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angryschnauzer · 3 years

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Blackwater Lake - Chapter 3

Summary: There’s a little town high in the mountains where everyone has a secret, and every family has something that makes them unique. In Blackwater Lake those that are outcast by nature come together.

Characters/Pairing: August Walker x OFC Freya (Forest Nymph) Original Female Character is described as white/pale, short and of small build, hazel eyes, long dark hair.

Warnings (for this chapter); Talk of past abusive relationships, on the run, alcohol consumption, Daddy Kink, DD/LG, Pet names, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, hyperspermia, cum play, cum feeding, unplanned pregnancy, pregnancy test.

Previous Parts:

Werewolf!Sy: Moonlight on the Sand Castle Under The Stars. Werewolf!Sy, Vampire!Walter: Chapter 1 Vampire Walter: Chapter 2

This will be a series of stand alone stories/2 parters, which will revolve around the residents of the town, with some recurring characters. The ‘reader’ for each story will be a ‘new’ reader, so its not the same woman being with all the male characters.

I do not run a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications. You’ll then get an alert every time i post something new.

Blackwater Lake - Chapter 3

The blood slowly trickled across the board and off the table, coating the floor before running into the drain. August raised the heavy cleaver, and with one thunderous swipe severed the femur clean in two. The cleaver made a metallic clang that echoed around the stark tile lined room, and wiping his hands on his apron he lifted the product of his work and inspected his efforts closely. A smile spread over his lips as he looked up;

“There we go Mrs Mackenzie, a nice juicy bone for your dog”

The old woman smiled, her purple tinted grey hair in tight curls that barely moved as she nodded;

“Oh yes, that’ll be perfect! My Clarence will love it!”

At that very moment Clarence started yapping outside where he was tied to the specials chalkboard that sat on the sidewalk outside Walkers Meats, 10lbs of teeth, fur and anger wrapped into the body of a small West Highland Terrier;

“I’m sure he will. I’ll wrap it up for you and Freya will finish ringing up your order for you. We’ll get it delivered this afternoon…”

August walked around the counter and set the wrapped bone into the box, nodding to his assistant to finish up the order. She knew that the bone would be free of charge, but that Mrs Mackenzie would insist on tipping and sliding her $10 which August was more than happy for Freya to keep. The slight girl turned and a tiny smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, before she quietly nodded and continued with her duties.

Returning to the butchery area August glanced up and caught sight of his reflection in the painted mirror, the design obscuring the scarring on the side of his face, giving him that moment of relief from those memories of a past long ago, a life he had left behind when he had sought out quiet solitude in the peaceful mountain town of Blackwater Lake. People minded their own business there and didn’t ask questions. If you had a skill that could help others you were welcomed into the community. How August got into the meat business is a story for another day, but as his gaze travelled across the mirror to where Freya was measuring out the wild herb mixes into small mason jars he smiled and remembered instead how she came into his life.

Pulling the sign in from the sidewalk August was exhausted. Running a business completely on his own had seemed like a good idea when he’d started, he enjoyed his own company and he distrusted anyone else to do the job to a standard he would approve of. What he hadn’t counted on was the residents of this sleepy little town not only accepting him, but joyous that he was there and wanting to talk endlessly every time they visited his store. Although he was always polite and did his best to end conversations quickly, after eight hours of it he had jaw ache and knew he would need to work well into the night on the new sides of beef that had been delivered that morning if he were to have any stock to sell the next day. He glanced longingly at the small sign that sat propped up in the window; ‘Help Needed - Enquire Within’, yet he hadn’t had any takers in the month the sign had been up.

The icy winter wind curled at his neck, sending a shiver down his spine as he let out a sigh, heaving the heavy sign into the building so it didn’t blow away in the night as a icy squall blew in from the mountains. As the door slammed shut behind him it echoed a knock around the store, but when it came again he turned and let out a far from masculine yelp; the face of a pale young woman stared back at him like a ghoul in the darkness. Clearing his throat and smoothing down his blue and white striped apron, he approached the door and opened it;

“May I help you Miss?”

She nodded down to the sign;

“Do you still need someone?”

Her teeth were chattering, and it was hardly surprising as she was barely dressed for the weather, the knitted cardigan doing little to ward off the cold wind. August opened the door to allow her to enter, looking down at the top of her head as she slunk past him.

“Let me get a pot of coffee on, you must be freezing”

As he disappeared into the back office he set the pot of coffee on to heat before grabbing an old jacket that was hanging on the back of the door, returning to where his visitor stood in the store a few moments later, handing her the jacket;

“Its cold in here, we can’t have the heat on because of the meat”

Nodding she took the jacket, her teeth still chattering;

“T-t-thanks… its still warmer than outside”

He handed her a mug of steaming coffee;

“Sorry, i don’t have any creamer or sugar…” She wrapped her delicate fingers around the mug using it more for heat than sustenance as he leant back against the counter on the other side of the store; “So… you’re wanting a job? What experience have you got? You worked in retail?”

She shook her head and muttered a quiet no, keeping her eyes averted from him as she spoke;

“But i will try anything… just looking for a new start”

“Are you running from something?” A gentle nod of her head and the way she clutched the mug tighter told August it was a someone not a something; “Look, if you’re willing to learn, work hard and pay attention, i’ll give you a trial. I’ve gotta level with you, you’re the only person who’s shown any interest in the sign, and i’m getting desperate, so if you want you can start tomorrow”

Her head snapped up and for the first time he saw her eyes, deep hazel peering out from behind long strands of dark brown hair;

“Really?”

“Yes. Really” he stated in a matter of fact way; “I’ll need to get your address and details for the wages…”

“Oh… i’m not… i’ve not got anywhere. I guess i’ll find a cheap motel…”

August paused;

“Kid, there’s no motel in town… at least not this time of year. But i might have a solution for you”

Her eyes widened in fear and August realised whatever she was running from had done more damage than she showed;

“No no, not that” he assured her; “There’s a small apartment above the shop - two in fact, i’ve got one and the other i’ve never rented out, never got round to it… its small but completely self contained, your own entrance and everything, completely secure”

Once a few forms had been filled out August had gotten the girl settled in the small studio apartment. He’d shown her how the fold out bed worked, explained that the hot water fed off the furnace for the whole building so she could use as much as she wanted. A couple of minutes after he’d left her in the apartment he knocked at her door, surprised to hear the locks sliding across at first, but then realising she needed to feel safe. When she peered around the door she almost looked surprised to see him there, as if it would be anyone else;

“Umm yeah?”

August handed her a box of things he’d scavenged from his own kitchen;

“Here’s just a few things to see you through the night… I haven’t been grocery shopping in a while, but the bread was in the freezer and it’ll defrost pretty quickly if you put it in the toaster”

He handed the box to Freya, surprised at how smooth but also small her hands were as she took it from him as they brushed against his own. She nodded and smiled;

“Thank you Mr Walker”

“Night. See you bright and early tomorrow morning”

The next morning August woke to an insistent knocking on his door. Grumbling to himself he pulled on his robe and stalked across his small apartment, pulling the door open with a thunderous look on his face, ready to give whatever maniac that was knocking on his door at 5am a piece of his mind;

“WHAT THE… oh… hi…”

Freya was standing on his doormat, a look of shock on her face;

“Hi… i’m ready to start”

“To… start?”

“Work. You said bright and early”

August ran his palm over his face;

“I… When i said…” he let out a long slow breath; “I meant 8am”

“Oh.”

That was a long day, but by lunchtime Freya had mastered the cash desk and had already started to come out of her shell, the locals more than welcoming for the tiny girl with the woodland eyes, and with her help August was able to catch up on his work.

Over the following month her input had helped August expand his products, suggesting a range of seasonings in reusable jars, where if the customer returned the mason jar they’d get a discount off the next one they purchased. He discovered she had this unfathomable knowledge of herbs and plants, but also had this connection with nature he couldn’t quite understand. He’d sometimes catch her staring out of the window at the trees blowing in the wind, as if listening to their songs that were beyond his own ears.

One thing was for sure, there was a sense of magic to her and August thanked the stars above that she walked into his store on that cold winter night.

Back in the present August was busy cleaning the cutting table as Freya busied herself with her jars - it was her own little enterprise now and one she was absolutely proud of. He could see that she kept glancing outside, gnawing on her lip;

“Freya, everything ok?”

“Yes Mr Walker. I was just thinking, the next batch wild garlic is ready to be picked, if i collect some this afternoon i can have more chimichurri mixed ready for tomorrow, and that’s when the beef delivery is coming in”

August let out a chuckle;

“How many times do I have to say to call me August…” he met her gaze with a smile; “And yes, that sounds like a brilliant idea. The store’s quiet and i’ll be doing deliveries in a while, so sure, go exploring”

“Thank you Mr Walker”

August rolled his eyes and let out a laugh, watching as she hung up her apron and grabbed her foraging basket, skipping out of the door and towards the creek that fed into the lake a couple of miles away.

Three hours later August was driving back along the gravel road that led into town, having made his deliveries. The spring air was damp but warm, rain threatening to spill but the clouds unwilling to release their bounty just yet. Rounding the bend he looked out over the soft marshland, the grass knee high already and he saw a familiar figure stepping through the green undergrowth. With a smile he pulled his SUV to a stop at the side of the road, stepping out of the vehicle he leaned against the door as he watched Freya as she slowly made her way through the field, before she stopped as her attention moved to the treeline. Following her gaze he watched as a bear emerged from the woods and his heart sank. The native wildlife would be coming out of hibernation, and would be grumpy and hungry. He went to shout but a sudden rush of wind silenced his voice, watching as she held her arm out and the grass flattened in front of her as if a wind devil had made its way through. Glancing back to the bear it had stopped in its tracks but was still staring at her, but then started to circle around on the spot before settling down as if for a nap.

August anxiously watched, knowing if Freya ran she could make it to the car as long as the bear was weak, but he didn’t want to risk that it hadn’t had a belly full of salmon yet, so he quickly reached into the vehicle and pulled his unregistered handgun from beneath his seat. Back at the side of the road he raised the firearm at the bear, glancing at Freya who had now spotted him waiting for her. She started to quicken her pace through the grasses, eventually breaking into a run as she neared the embankment of the road. August glanced to where the bear had been and let out a yell as he saw it was starting to approach them;

“Freya, RUN!”

Doing as he instructed she broke into a sprint, her legs carrying her through the grass and up the embankment. Flinging his door open he motioned for her to dive in, her basket being launched into the passenger footwell as she tumbled across the centre console and into the passenger seat, August launching himself into the driver's seat and gunning the engine as he slammed the door shut, the urgent crunch of tyres on loose gravel dulling the sound of the grizzly’s roar as it had caught up, but was now rapidly disappearing into the distance of the rear view mirror.

August only slowed down as he reached the urban centre of Blackwater Lake, Freya’s breathing having finally levelled out as she turned to him;

“So… there’s bears here?”

He slowed the vehicle and pulled to a stop in a parking lot before turning to her;

“Yes. And moose and cougars and mountain lions… hell sometimes I even hear howls in the night so there’s probably something wolfy up in those mountains too… We need to get you better prepared for nature” August paused; “And what was that thing you did with your hand? That made the grass flatten and the bear sit down…”

Freya shrugged;

“I’m not sure… it's just this thing i’ve always been able to do, calm animals down”

“Huh. Didn’t seem to work this time…”

She glanced at him, her eyes wide;

“I think that was because you were there…”

August let out a laugh, before sitting back in his seat;

“Okay, point taken. I need a drink. We’re at Big-G’s, I'll buy you dinner…”

August regretted his decision. He hadn’t factored in how slight Freya was in comparison to her ability to consume alcohol, so three drinks later where all he’d had was lite beer, Freya was completely wasted. The giveaway was when she’d fallen asleep on his shoulder whilst he’d been talking to Geralt - the bar owner - and she’d started to drool on his shirt. Geralt had told him to ‘get his girl home’ with a wry laugh, telling August his meal was on the house. Something had stopped August from correcting the ashen haired man, looking down at the imp of the girl leaning on him.

He’d managed to carry her to his car fairly easily but the journey up the steps at their building had been more of a challenge. He’d managed to get her to wrap her arms around his shoulders, but had been surprised when she’d also wrapped her legs around his waist. Although it meant he could use one arm to hold her up, the feel of her warm body clinging to his sent a rush of heat through his stomach straight to his groin, he was just thankful she was so out of it she didn’t notice the tent in his pants.

As he juggled his keys he found the spare for her apartment but then thought better of it, unsure how she was when she’d had alcohol, and instead opened his own apartment. Crossing the almost dark room he reached the couch and slowly lowered her down to the cushions, her whimpers of loss as he started to pull away making him pause;

“Mmmm Daddy, you’re so warm…”

Holding her still a low rumble slowly bubbled through his throat when she nuzzled against his neck;

“Daddy smells so good…” and she pressed a kiss to the stubble on his chin.

August knew she was drunk, probably didn’t even realise it was him, after all who would want someone as broken and scarred as he was, but for that briefest of moment’s he relished her touch and what was going on in her tequila addled mind. He couldn’t help himself and pressed the briefest of kiss to her cheek;

“Time to sleep now little Kitten” he muttered before reluctantly uncoupling himself from her grasp, pulling a blanket over her as she dozed on his couch. Raking his hand down his face he let out a sigh, before grabbing a glass of water and setting it onto the coffee table in front of her. A scribbled note on the back of a flyer explained that she was drunk and he wasn’t sure if she would need his help, and he didn’t want to invade her privacy of her own apartment.

Having poured himself a generous glass of vodka, August withdrew to his own bedroom, silently closing the door before stripping for bed. It was an early night but without the TV to entertain him and no desire to get lost in a book, he settled on top of the covers in just his underwear, sipping at the ice cold liquor as he willed the swelling of his loins to subside. However every time he tried to clear his mind, all he could imagine was Freya. The thought of her small body beneath his, their bodies sweaty and writhing as one. Finally with a curse he gave in to his desires, pulling his underwear down and taking his hard length into his hand, pumping dry to increase the friction as his mind descended further into taboo territory. He imagined it was her hand, calling him Daddy as she asked if she was doing it right, that her perfect lips would duck down and take his bulbous tip into her mouth, her tongue lapping at his slit as her hazel eyes would stare back up at him, wide with innocence. With a strangled cry he came in violent spurts, covering his hand and stomach in ropes of his cum, thoughts of the delicate woman in his lounge lapping at his spent seed prolonging his orgasm until he was aching and empty. With a curse he looked down at the mess he’d made, realising he needed to clean himself up.

The quiet click of his front door woke August the next morning, pushing himself up off the pillow as he heard small footsteps down the outside of the building and the quiet beep of his car being unlocked. Wondering what the hell was happening he leapt out of bed and peered out of the window, letting out a sigh of relief when he saw a dishevelled Freya gathering the wild garlic that had been scattered around his inside of his vehicle the day before.

A few minutes later the thud of his keys falling onto his doormat where she’d posted them through the letterbox sounded through his apartment, and when he went to collect them he found a small note with them;

‘Mr Walker, thank you for your help, I hope I didn't make a fool of myself last night. Your car stinks of garlic now, i’m going to walk up the creek and collect some herbs that will help reduce the odour, Freya x’

An hour later when she hadn’t returned, August set off towards the creek through the pleasant woodland, the sunlight leaving dappled patches of gold on the forest floor. Coming to the wide bend in the creek where the water was shallow, he saw the swing over the water that someone had put there years ago, mismatched ropes and a wooden seat, and how someone had now woven wildflowers into the ropes, and as he glanced upstream he saw Freya knee deep in the water, a butterfly dancing on her hand.

Something overcame him and he pulled off his boots and socks, rolling up his pants as he stepped out into the water and sat on the swing, silently watching as she charmed nature beyond a simple human’s comprehension, having control of the elements like a forest nymph. August had seen a lot of unusual things in the time he’d lived in Blackwater Lake, he knew those that had something a little special about them gravitated towards the sleepy little mountain town, so as he watched Freya make her way upstream towards him he realised there was magic in the air. Small water spouts rose from the water as she took each step, as if chasing after her touch as she stepped from rock to rock submerged under the water.

As she approached the shallow bend in the creek she finally looked up and saw August, a smile spreading over her lips;

“Hi”

“Its so pretty here, isn’t it?” she asked wistfully

“Beautiful from where i’m sitting”

She approached where he sat, stopped at arms reach, a hint of blush warming her cheeks;

“I’m sorry if I was inappropriate last night… thank you for taking care of me, i’m not a big drinker”

“You weren’t inappropriate…” he reassured her; “But it's been a while since a beautiful woman called me Daddy… since before… since before i was broken...”

Her gaze moved to the scar on the side of his face, and without a word she stepped forward and pressed her hand to the spidery scarring. In that moment August felt the magic in her touch, prickling at his skin before she nimbly climbed onto his lap, her legs wrapping around his waist and she lowered her lips to his, softly brushing against his as she spoke;

“You’re not broken, no more than I am…”

The kiss was soft and slow, and as her tongue started to gently tease at the seam of his lips she eased her weight completely onto his lap, her core pressing to his, the heat of their growing lust growing like an ember between them.

Her small tongue licked into his mouth, tasting him as she pressed her body flush to his chest, small whimpers coming from her as his hands splayed over her back and pulled her firmly down onto his growing arousal. When the need for oxygen finally took precedence August’s lips traced a path of kisses down her jaw and neck, her fingers winding through his dark curls as her head fell back to give him better access to the pale expanse of her collarbone;

“Oh Daddy…”

“That’s it my little one, i’m going to treat you so well, my little Kitten…” August’s mustache brushed against her heated skin as he spoke, the gentle sway of the swing letting their bodies move against each other.

Just at that moment an ominous creak sounded above them, drawing their attention up into the tree’s canopy, just in time to see the rope that held the swing up snap, plunging them down into the shallow creekwater below.

With shouts and screams the moment of passion was lost, taken over by the shock of the water hitting their heated skin. August helped Freya up, her dress plastered to her skin in much the same way his shirt was, soaked head to toe he shook the water from his hair;

“Home?”

“Yes Daddy” Freya purred, pulling into his touch as he wrapped an arm around her to help her out of the water.

Pushing in the door to his apartment, clothes were being pulled from each other's bodies even as the door was still ajar. As he pulled his shirt off, Freya’s hands were curling into the hair on his chest, an almost feral growl bubbling from her lips as she ran her hands down to his stomach and rested on the buckle of his belt. Catching her hands in his he held them gently, only speaking when she looked up and met his gaze;

“Kitten, I want to be sure you want this… You’re in total control here, you set the boundaries, you say when you need to stop. But if you do want this, i’ll be your Daddy and take care of you like a Princess”

Freya voice shook as she spoke;

“I want this… my last… he wanted to be my Daddy but didn’t treat me right. He took more than I could give…”

August lifted her small hands to his mouth, kissing each fingertip with such great care and tenderness her heart almost melted before she finally spoke again;

“We should really check for leeches”

“WHAT?!”

Freya had never seen anyone strip their clothing off quite as fast as August just had. For a big man - and a pretty tough one at that - the mere thought of little blood suckers had him stripping completely naked in a matter of seconds, Freya pulling her dress off a little slower until she stood in just her simple underwear. August was still patting himself down, turning to look at his behind;

“Am I ok?”

Freya couldn’t help herself, stepping forwards and taking two handfuls of August’s pert asscheeks, giving them a squeeze before running her palms over the perfectly rounded globes of his buttocks;

“More than ok”

In the following moments August carried her to his small bathroom, turning the shower on before he stepped under the warm jets of water, pulling her with him so he could soap her down. The scent of sandalwood of his soap as he carefully washed every inch of her body was overwhelming, taking care of her to wash any last traces of creek water from her body. He paused as he reached the apex of her thighs, waiting for her agreement which she quickly nodded for him to continue, his large hand sliding between her legs and caressing her lips. His skilled fingers soon sought out her pearl, teasing it gently from its hood before he slid a finger into her waiting heat, a cry falling from her lips which he quickly swallowed with a kiss. His work calloused hands quickly drove her to an orgasm - a first of many - and as she came she called his name, like a prayer on her lips.

Shutting the water off, August carefully lifted her out of the bath, wrapping a large towel around her before scooping her into his arms and carrying her to his bed. On the messy covers her hair clung to her skin, before he carefully lifted the long tendrils from her chest and was able to take in the sight of her petite naked body laying fresh and prone on his bed. Her hand reached out for him, pulling him close;

“Daddy, I want to feel you…”

August smiled;

“Will you be a good girl for me Kitten? Do you think you can take me? You’re awfully small, and I'm pretty big…”

She sat up, pressing a hand to his chest;

“Can I try? Can I go on top?”

Nodding August lay on the bed, propped up against the pillows, lifting her petite frame on top of him. He watched with pleasure as she wriggled down the bed, her hands gripping his thighs as she settled between his legs. Wrapping her small hands around his generous length she looked up at him as she started to give small licks to his hot flesh, her fingers struggling to encircle his meaty girth. Opening her mouth she took a good three inches between her lips straight away, a litany of curses falling from August’s lips as he felt the hot wet heat of her mouth engulf him. It was better than he could ever had imagined, and he had to grip at the bedsheets to stop himself from cumming at that very moment. Steadying his breathing he let out a low sigh before he reluctantly pulled her off, a trail of spittle hanging between his dick and her mouth;

“But Daddy, I want to taste your cum…”

“I know Kitten, but it's going to be a lot the first time, and I want to see your cunt dripping with me, knowing your tight little pussy is going to overflow with the amount I'm going to pump into you. Now be a good girl and see what you can do, let's make it fit…”

Straddling his thick thighs she positioned herself over his hard shaft, her hand holding him steady as she swiped him through her folds to douse his gnarled girth with her juices, before settling with the tip at her entrance. August ran his hands up and down her arms, comforting her and hoping to get her to relax. He was a patient man but the feel of her soaked flesh pressing against his crown was becoming a struggle not to grab her hips and pull her down until he was balls deep in one swift thrust.

Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, Freya slowly lowered herself onto August’s shaft, going at a pace she could cope with, but the strain of holding back caused perspiration to bead on August’s forehead;

“Doing so well Kitten… I know its a lot, but you can do it… you’re so fucking tight…. Fuck…”

Taking a deep breath Freya finally let herself fall the rest of the way, feeling him part her silken walls until she was settled on his lap. Tears fell from her eyes, tiny diamonds adorning her cheeks at the overwhelming sense of fullness she was experiencing. Seeing these August kissed them away, his praises made her swell with pride as he admitted to her he was struggling not to cum from just the feeling of her tight walls engulfing him. He pushed a hand between their bodies, resting his palm on her stomach;

“Put your hand here… you’re so tiny I can feel myself deep inside you, your little tummy blown out with my dick…”

His thumb crept down and grazed at her pearl, making her cry out before yearning for more. With his ministrations she was soon relaxed enough to start to ride him, her nimble thighs bouncing on his meaty counterparts, feeling the slick push and pull as he filled her whilst she drove them towards their peak.

Unsurprisingly Freya came first, the overwhelming pleasure that was coursing through her body was all too much to hold back, and she came with a silent scream, her body gripping August so tight it set him off, pushing in so deep he was sure his dick had kissed her cervix, before flooding her with endless ropes of his thick seed, soothing her inner core with his milky gift. Wrapping his arms around her he pulled her to his chest, holding her tight as the floods of emotions surged through her, stroking her back tenderly.

Eventually he carefully lifted her onto the bed, peppering her bare skin with bristly kisses, before parting her thighs and leaning back to admire his handiwork, a thick sheen of white covering her swollen petals. With a single finger he carefully swiped through his mess, before holding it to her mouth;

“Taste Kitten… taste our passion…”

Holding onto his wrist she sucked the digit into her mouth, her tongue tasting their combined essence. When his finger finally dropped from her lips his gaze fell down and hers followed, her eyes going wide when she saw he was hard and ready for more. Laying back she hooked her hands behind her knees and spread herself open for him;

“Daddy, will you fill me up again, please?”

Positioning himself at her cum soaked hole August smiled, a dark hint of lust glinting in his eyes;

“It would be my pleasure Kitten”

Three weeks later

Freya chewed nervously on her lip, having circled the isles of the drug store too many times to count now, waiting for a time when there was no-one near what she needed. Finally it was the right moment and she slunk into the isle, grabbing the thin rectangular box before stepping back and bumping into someone, her item tumbling to the floor as a third set of feet appeared;

“Freya! Mrs Syverson! Good Morning!”

It was Sue from the coffee shop, having appeared seemingly out of nowhere just as Mrs Syverson had backed away from the opposite shelf to keep little baby Luna from grabbing the glass bottles of antacid medicine. Mrs Syverson immediately clocked what Freya had been holding;

“Oh Freya, could you just reach those things for me? I can’t reach down with Luna here…”

With shaking hands Freya handed the bag of cotton wool balls and the pregnancy test to the woman only a couple of years her senior, who in turn smiled at Sue as she laughed;

“Sy’s always keeping me on my toes… in more ways than one” She winked before tugging on Freya’s arm; “Sweetie, I need to place an order for a big cookout we have coming up for Sy’s birthday…”

Steering her away from town gossip Sue, Mrs Syverson lowered her voice;

“I’ll meet you outside sweetie, don’t worry about it, i saw you circling the shop”

A few minutes later Mrs Syverson appeared at the door, two drugstore bags in her hand before handing one to Freya;

“My advice, tell August now, do the test together”

“Are you sure? Do you think he’ll be angry?”

“Angry? Hell no, i think it’ll be what he wants, and no matter what the result he’s always had puppy dog eyes for you, we could all tell from the moment you walked into his life”

Peering into the bag Freya saw there was also a bag of Hershey’s kisses;

“You’ll need the sugar, to calm your nerves afterwards”

“Thanks Mrs S… i appreciate it”

“No problem Freya… and i’ll see you tomorrow, i really do need to place that order, but get today over and done with first”

That afternoon Freya and August took the test, then feasted on kisses of every kind.

#august walker #august walker fanfic #august walker smut #august walker x ofc #henry cavill

148 notes · View notes

astro-nova9 · 4 years

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Feelings

Prompt: How did they realize that they had feelings for y/n?

Characters: Katsuki Bakugo, Keigo Takami, Tomura Shigaraki

Warnings:Mild language, suggestive themes if you squint reaaaaaal hard, cannon death mention.

A/N: ahhhhhh this is my first written post on this blog, i hope it doesnt suck too bad but dont put too much faith in me! Im not pulling from any kind of request list or anything i’m just posting a couple of prompts or requests that i would ask some other writer but i’m too shy to ask anyone else to take their time writing silly things like this out.

Bakugo Katsuki:

For him, it was slow and quick all at once. He never really put much thought into things as pointless as romantic feelings. He had no desire to waste his time. Just like he never really intended on making friends period. They were completely useless, but he had them even though he never once lifted a finger to try. That's kinda how he feels liking you started too. He never really had to try. You were always there just… existing? Like you’d always be sitting on the couch in the lounge on your phone it wasn't anything different than what you’d do literally every day but he found himself being happy about seeing you sitting in the spot that you’d claimed as your own. He’d find himself wondering if you’d be thirsty too when he’d get himself something to drink, going ahead and getting you your favorite drink, just in case. It wasn't even anything that he actively thought about anymore. Just like how you didn't have to call out for him to slow down for you to catch up on the way to class, he’d stopped walking ahead at all, saving the time and just waiting on you to get there before setting out. The only time he really realized a difference is the odd occurrences you weren't where you normally were when you were normally there. You had to go to class early so he felt lonely on the walk although Kirishima was with him. You stayed behind to train some more with your quirk and your spot on the couch was empty so he sat in his room because there was no point in sitting in the lounge alone. If you weren't sitting with the others at lunch because you had something else to do he’d carry around that damn drink all day until he had the chance to give it to you. It was one of the days when he was carrying around a lukewarm bottle of soda, craning his neck to look for you in the halls after classes were finished for the day when he stopped himself. Why in the hell was he doing all this? Yeah, you’d do the same for him, but what's the point? He didn't even know if you’d be thirsty and the drink was too warm to drink now anyway so why was he so adamant about giving it to you? Since when did he care so much about making sure you had a drink that had way to much sugar in it anyway? Since when does it matter to him that you walk with him to class or you're lounging comfortably in your spot on the couch? It was on his mind the whole day but what tipped him off that there was something different about how he felt about you was when he actually saw you after wasting 20 minutes trying to find you. The way he physically relaxed and the stupid ass smile that pulled at his lips when your eyes lit up as saw him too, taking the drink he was offering and telling him how stupid it was for him to wait for you to finish talking to your teacher. He did all of these dumb little things because he liked to and because he liked you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Takami To be honest it didn't take much for him to realize what his feelings about you were but the fact that he had them were wild to him. At first, he thought it was just the fact that he liked how you didn't seem to bat an eye at him. How you treated him just like he was anyone else. Like he wasn't the number two hero with the weight of the world on his shoulders. You never even called him Hawks, when you first met you’d asked him his name, and that's all you ever called him. When he had bad days you’d never ask him to explain or tell him that's what he’d asked for when he signed up for the hero gig. You’d just comfort him and affirm his feelings. It was like you always knew the right thing to say even if you didn't think so. He’d always thought you were cute and when you started tripping over words or getting flustered because of his flirting or being in your personal space it was nearly unbearable how ridiculously attractive you were. The way you’d never just assume something bad about him or outright reject him made it easy for him to seek you out for comfort. Your arms quickly became a safe place for him to just unload the unnecessarily large amount of shit he had to deal with. It was like you took the negative feelings out of his mind like a sponge the moment he said anything. With a gentle stroke of your fingers across one of his feathers or a soft peck on his temple, they were gone, replaced with warm comforting thoughts about you. He didn't put much thought or energy into how he felt about you until he started catching himself thinking about one very particular thing involving you. His future. He started realizing that he didn't want to deal with anything he knew that he’d have to take care of without you being there at the end of the day for him to run to. He wanted to keep you safe and give you pretty things to see you smile. When he started looking forward to seeing you again before he even left was when he realized the extent of his feelings.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shigaraki It was kind of like love at first sight for him. But love was a strong word to use when talking about anything to do with Shigaraki Tomura, the man who wants to watch the world crumble. So putting it more appropriately, you were one of the first people he’d ever met that he didn't automatically contemplate dusting as soon as he laid eyes on you. He didn't necessarily like you, he just didn't want you dead yet. He didn't get it either but that's how it was. He didn't want you dead though, which for any living thing was a start! He didn't get insanely annoyed when he’d walk into the bar and you were sitting in his chair playing on your stupid little handheld game, just slightly. Just like he didn't get super pissed with the fact that you’d find excuses to be paired up with him on missions. He knew it was because with him you’d have a lesser chance of dying but he didn't really mind, your quirk was useful too. He did get a little ticked when you’d bitch at him about taking care of himself, its not like it was any of your business anyway so he never cared to pay it much mind. What he couldn't explain though was the absolute palpable rage when he saw you captive behind Chisaki. The way he wanted to make every other living thing in a hundred-mile radius stop existing was kind of jarring. He didn't understand it and he didn't give enough of a fuck to care. The fact that a piece of yakuza shit would even consider you was enough to sign his death warrant, the death of Magne and theft of compresses arm made it worse. The only thing he could think of while you were gone was how much he fucking wished you’d walk in and ask him to beat a stupidly simple level on your game because you couldn't be bothered, or that you'd bitch about him not eating anything the last couple of days. Every second you weren't around made it all worse. The second he realized just how much he liked you was when you arrived with Toga and Jin after the whole situation was finished and they’d gotten what they were trying to get. Fuck quirk canceling bullets, he was just glad you were back alive. When you ran to him and hugged him he didn't flinch back but he almost passed out when he had to stop his hands from closing around you too. He didn't want to destroy you, everything else maybe, but never you.

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quidfree · 3 years

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hey im reading wuthering heights for school and i chose it over frankenstein bc i saw it on ur blog a while back lol do you mind sharing more of your thoughts on it if you have any more? they were so interesting!!

i really like this ask so i’ve been sitting on it trying to think of a good response, but i can’t quite formulate it in a nice digestible way so it’ll have to be a bit all over the place.

the main thing that i want to talk about is how funny it is that your main choices were frankenstein and wuthering heights, because to me these are extremely similar books in a lot of ways? firstly in that i really love both of them for quite comparable reasons (nb choosing WH on my say-so will hopefully nonetheless not be a choice you regret haha), but also because they have a lot in common?

both have two of my fav narrator set-ups in literature which involve a random intensely pretentious and obtuse outsider who is retelling the whole book as a tale within a tale about a really wild holiday he had. this is iconic because (a) i love reading povs from people who are annoying because the author made them so on purpose (b) it adds a fun layer of hearsay to the dramatic plot of the book to know how unreliable the story we get is. the nanny in wuthering heights is one of the most infamously controversial narrators in classic lit and honestly i don’t trust the bitch either. but yeah tldr lockwood and walton are both insufferable dumbasses who r taken by the dramatic male protags and way too into the super personal crises of the mcs.

obviously the Gothic Girl Core…. brontës and mary shelley really paved the way in the aesthetic and the horrible sad lives they lead. but they’re both incredibly good at conveying Gothic Atmosphere, from the Humanity to the Wilderness to the Evil Within. scenes w pathetic fallacy in both books have some of the best descriptive passages in western lit in my humble opinion. like the combo of the Dark Scenery and Inner Turmoil…. and theres also the Women Writing Men aspect that adds some Layers that i always find interesting.

mary’s is more about Privileged Male Intellectual Hubris (wonder why) and emily’s is more Emotional Turmoils of the Rich and Fucked, but both have a psychological element that disguises a deep and interesting questioning of ethics and society. What Makes A Man + Nature and Nurture are core qs of both… inherent savagery and the cultivation of goodness… yeah theres a lot going on there.

bad communication kills guys! (but really though)

everyone in both books is like, either deeply annoying or deeply horrible or both, and make Bad Choices constantly, so you have to be willing to ride out the consequences of these terrible choices to enjoy them. personally i love flawed people being horrible as long as they’re framed properly so for my money the vibe in both can be both Haute Comédie and Deeply Tragic as you ride along and it’s all very enjoyable. altho victor frankenstein is more of a bitch than anyone in WH and i will stand by that. actually WH kind of edges out frankenstein in this regard bc the whole supporting cast in frankenstein is like obnoxiously saccharine but in WH basically everyone sucks at least a little so it’s more fun and balanced. esp true wrt cathy and heathcliff vs victor and liz.

i like people’s Dark Urges and Personal Failings driving the story… like yes i enjoy greek tragedy inescapable fate bc it hurts the most but when people are Responsible for the bad they create… that’s Modern and yet real. both works walk the line between Inherent doom and people very much making Bad Choices A Lot. and i enjoy that they were both women in very repressed & sexist societies writing hard violent grim stories that disturbed audiences as much as enthralled them.

also this isn’t comparative but kate bush’s wuthering heights = top 10 songs based on literature, yeah?

anyways sorry this is only half about WH & uses very gratuitous caps for emphasis but seriously please submit thoughts or interesting essay questions on WH proper after this if you like i really enjoy talking about classic lit w you all :)

#qui repond #qui parle #anon #literature #wuthering heights #frankenstein #comparative #gothic queens 🖤#recs

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adamwatchesmovies · 3 years

Text

The Worst of 2020

Yeah, I know. This list is coming way too late. Still, I thought you might enjoy it.

10. After We Collided

It’s a tradition on his blog to save the #10 spot for a movie that’s “so bad it’s good”. There were a couple of contenders in 2020 but I’m going to go with After We Collided. This movie is such a wild departure from the first, it’s hysterical. I don't mean that the first was "good" and this one "bad". I mean the tone and the plot. The very first scene retcons the ending of After and demotes Hardin from “happily ever after” to living under a bridge like a troll. There are many unintentionally funny moments or structural problems with the movie that make it a laugh-riot. My only regret is that when I got my friends to watch it, we were all in different rooms and had to discuss it through video call afterward. I didn't get to hear their groans as Tessa scored the job of a lifetime, the kind that doesn't exist in real life, or the laughs when the "Jacob" of this series showed up. Its missteps scream “from the Wattpad fanfiction”. It’ll never become a cult classic unless the next movie gets even crazier but I had enough fun for me to look forward to After We Fell.

9. The Last Days of American Crime

I’m as shocked as you are to see The Last Days of American Crime as the #9 worst movie of the year. It deserves to be on the list… but this “low”? Unfortunately, yes. While this movie is boring and dumb, at least I can understand why someone green-lit it. In an alternate universe where this didn’t get 0 stars and was merely bad in an average way, I could picture it being remade or ripped off, and its descendant being good. In the meantime, this is just plain awful, a cataclysmic waste of time. Unlike #10, don't go near it.

8. The Wrong Missy

The Wrong Missy gave me essentially everything I thought it would. Even so, it’s unforgivable. This isn’t the rapiest movie on this list but that doesn't matter. It’s tired, unfunny, and phony.

7. John Henry

I was tempted to leave John Henry off the list because I didn’t think anyone would’ve seen this movie, even with the star power of Terry Crews and Ludacris. Then, I saw it for sale inside a Sunrise Records. I need to remind you of how awful this film is. Anyone with any kind of sense would turn it off minutes in and if you’re wondering, no, even with Ludacris playing a laughable flamethrower-themed villain with a piece of metal bling on his face, it’s never bad in a funny way.

6. Fantasy Island

This one had potential but Blumhouse squandered all of it. This film made money. I’m sure despite its scathing reviews, Fantasy Island is being talked about as a franchise starter by the studio executives. To them, I say please don’t. This movie can’t even keep track of its own simple rules and its “spooky revelations” are nonsense. It isn’t the least bit scary and I can’t imagine audiences will be dumb enough to hop on board another trip to this “be careful what you wished for” paradise.

5. Survive the Night & Hard Kill

I’m putting these two in the #5 spot because they’re basically twins. Two Bruce Willis-led action thrillers with zero budget, zero ingenuity, zero reasons to exist, both directed by Matt Eskandari. They prove the Die Hard star doesn’t care about anything but the paychecks he gets. These movies are born out of spreadsheets; columns of numbers that confirm a beloved action star in a movie - no matter how poorly advertised or bad - will draw a certain audience. Big box stores will sell X copies based on the name alone and no one cares about anything else. If they don’t, why should I?

4. Mulan

Unlike the other films we've discussed so far, Mulan looks great. The special effects are convincing, the costumes are a sight to behold. So what? No one would choose this adaptation over the original Disney movie. If you’re not into animation or music, there are plenty of other adaptations that don't require you to pay $30 for Disney+ premium access. I bet none of them have a lead as uncharismatic or uninspiring as this one. I don’t know what writers Rick Jaffa, Amanda Silver, Lauren Hynek, and Elizabeth Marin were thinking, turning an ordinary woman that used her wits to become a hero… into someone born with superpowers. You can’t relate to her, none of the side characters are interesting or memorable. It even botches the villain, who is about as threatening as a baby panda. This movie is part of not one, but two trends that I hate: “upgrading” animated films by making them live-action, and pandering to Chinese audiences - who rejected the movie anyway. Wonder how the people in the Xinjiang internment camps felt about this one?

3. Dolittle

Like Mulan , this movie had the money and the star power it needed. After ending his career as Iron Man/Tony Stark on a high note, we all wanted Robert Downey Jr. to move on to great things. Instead, he’s reaching into a dragon’s anus shoulder-deep to unclog its digestive system and then get a big fart in the face. Even before then, this movie contains enough annoying talking animals and out-of-place, would-be funny references to modern/pop culture to make it clear it’s one of the year’s worst movies.

2. Artemis Fowl

I can only imagine just how mad fans of the book were when they saw Artemis Fowl butchered like this. I’m furious and I had no attachment to it whatsoever. You can feel this plot trying to break free from the shackles Disney imposed on it and failing. It’s obvious Artemis Fowl is a villain, but he’s turned into a hero because ... ? Turning him "good" doesn't even work either. He’s a smarmy brat whose dad was kidnapped because some shadowy villain wants a shiny egg that does… something? This entire ordeal was poorly conceived; from the “giant dwarf” played by Josh Gad who unhinges his jaw so he can eat dirt and then shoot it out of his ass, to the useless secondary characters, the half-baked mythology, and the convoluted plot. I can’t believe it only lasts 95 minutes. It felt so much longer.

Runner-Ups:

The Babysitter: Killer Queen

This is a perfect example of a sequel that missed the mark so badly, it’s embarrassing. There are many other films I should’ve considered putting on my “worst of” list before this one but most of them were zero-budget movies no one saw; movies destined to be forgotten no one goes in with any expectations. I hate this movie as much as I do because the first is clever and fun. This is a desperate attempt to bring the dead back to life so clumsy you'll want to stay away from the original.

Antebellum I have to give credit to one aspect of Antebellum; whoever put together that trailer did a bang-up job. We all thought this was going to be the next Get Out. Instead, we got a movie that almost says something about… historical re-enactments? Boy was this movie contrived, and for what?

Pets United I haven’t heard anyone talk about or mention Pets United since its release. That’s great. It’s ugly, badly acted, badly animated, badly written. On the downside, it means no one knows what I’m talking about when I complain about this abomination. I can’t get over how lazy it is. During the climax, the villain’s giant mechanical spider gets a limb caught in a conveyor belt. Thankfully, it’s much too big to fit in the furnace this belt leads to. At best, the heroes will have a few moments to come up with a better plan to defeat it. Cut to them. Cut back to the spider, it’s now in the furnace, getting melted. Wow.

We Can Be Heroes I guess I’m in the minority when it comes to We Can Be Heroes. I thought it was awful. Generally, audiences seem to enjoy it, which is why there’s a sequel in the works. Am I the only one who was appalled by special effects that look like they come from a phone app? What about the performances? Are we just giving those a pass? How about that twist ending that makes no sense? Has no one else seen other superhero movies, seen how good they could be? Why are we letting this sloppy effort slide?

Love Wedding Repeat I don’t know what writer/director Dena Craig was thinking with Love Wedding Repeat. It begins as one of these generic “I’m reconnecting with the one that got away at the wrong time” and then 2/3 of the way in stops the ongoing train wreck, and restarts, showing us the “good timeline”. If you’re only going to show two results, why bother? It’s the limpest attempt at a time travel rom-com I’ve ever seen.

A Fall From Grace A Fall From Grace is the other 2020 movie I think might be worth checking if you’re into “so bad it’s good” movies. Unfortunately for you, it's been “improved” since its initial release to remove several mistakes (including bad acting from the extras, visible boom mikes, and continuity errors), which makes it “better” and therefore, less fun. There’s still plenty for you to enjoy ironically, however. My favorite aspect of the film is the ending, which makes NO SENSE. Well, unless you’re in a courtroom drama and the defense attorney is the worst lawyer who’s ever seen the light of day. It’s worth seeing just so you can hear “Ashtray, bitch!” in action.

1. 365 Days

First, there was Twilight, which might’ve had some contrived drama and dodgy performances, but served a purpose. Some might even call it good. At the very least, it tapped into a certain demographic's desires successfully. Then, someone went along and said “Yeah, but I don’t like this theme of chastity and waiting for marriage. Can they bang? Actually, can every scene be about them having sex? And instead of a vampire, could he be a deranged millionaire with a shattered past that makes him dangerous?” People cried foul, calling it sexist and unhealthy. Then, 365 Days comes along and says “Hold my beer”. Massimo Torricelli isn't a potential lover; he's a criminal. Not just a murderer; a kidnapper and a rapist! Oh, the movie doesn’t realize that’s what it’s showing us, but it is. This movie is disgusting. If you even have the misfortune of being in the same room as someone else while it plays, you’ll pray for an earthquake to open up the ground and send you straight to hell. At least two hours in a fiery inferno getting molested by demons would prove there’s a world beyond ours. The only thing this "erotic romantic drama" is good for is shrivelling your genitals.

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incarnateirony · 5 years

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i think there’s a distinction that needs to be made. i think those with power over dabb & co are the ones who are exuding more habits of queerbaiting, while dabb and co aren’t. and because those execs are more or less invisible, the blame/fault is put on dabb as he’s the perceived figurehead of everything in the show when he’s not. anything he may want to put in the show can be easily vetoed by a higher exec so

Okay so I said I wouldn’t touch related issues facing wanky-side, but while this runs the line this is such a genuine, and valid thought process it feels worth addressing.

So in short: Yes. But no. But yes. But no. But we’ll see.

What do I mean by that? I’m going to put this behind a cut. But first of all I want to thank this Nonnie for at least trying to critically think about where the problems lead to. This is FAR BETTER CRITICAL THINKING than I see in this discussion most of the time and this. More like this. Nuance, discussion, idea trade, history. Let’s do it.

Okay, so.

How can it be yes no yes no maybe eenie meenie miney mo?

Because it really depends on what part of this 15 year legacy show we’re talking about.

What I’m about to say isn’t going to be popular, but I’ve said it before, I just can’t find the ancient ass post discussing it.

We’re going to rewind. Like, a fucking lot. A lot, a lot. This is going to be a history ride, and you’re probably going to wonder how it connects to the conversation at first, but bear with me.

Ignoring any personal frustrations I have with the casting of season 4 – frankly a chapter of this FUCKING show that haunts me somewhere in the ballpark of, “If my friend wasn’t dismissed as not white enough and got the role, would we have Misha, Destiel, any of this, would the show be on, would she have been chased off as the other actresses?” – and frankly these are the things people don’t even fucking *think* about.

TLDR a bajillion years ago CW made a casting call and we got this super cute character named Anna that Dean was slated to bend over in two seconds flat, as old canon used to be before modernly growing. The actress expressed discomfort, and frankly went over with the audience about as well as wet cardboard. And like, while I agree that a lot of women were hated for misogynistic reasons in this show, she really was about as interesting as a plank of plywood to me once she got past her first performance or two.

At the same time, this handsome bastard named Misha Collins auditioned for a bit role originally intended for 3 episodes and quickly extended to 6. But, identified as lightning in a bottle and with on-fire chemistry, while Anna waffled for *several* reasons, summarily, their story ends swapped. That’s… not like *exactly* what happened but it’s *basically* what happened. Anna became the herald and contagonist instead of Cas, and Cas quite frankly took on the role of the goddess.

With Lisa already entered before Anna, there’s no evidence whatsoever she was intended as endgame. Story flip. Thank you for everything last night on earth fall by angel banishing almost like this was foreshadowed woohoo! But… don’t lend towards a relationship. No point. Given, they made a few jokes on set at that point, but it wasn’t really an idea *they thought anyone took seriously*.

Coming from a phase where most of the leads were introduced to “slash fandom” by Wincest, which they literally used to torture and prank each other, the idea of this being anything serious really wasn’t on their radar. The one I remember most was Misha choosing to sit on Dean’s side of the bed as Cas in the famous “What were you dreaming about?” and Sgriccia being like “that’s kinda gay” “nah keep it”

I mean, is that… queerbait at that point? I don’t think it’s fair to really call it that. They respectfully tried to scrub out the leading romantic edges from what would have been Anna’s story, but ultimately, the human psyche kind of recognizes 8000 years of storytelling history subconsciously when using the Hero’s Journey narrative, so it was resonant. Nobody was crazy for seeing it. That didn’t mean it was right, that didn’t mean it’s what they were consciously leading anyone for.

Hell, Jensen didn’t even know what the fuck Destiel WAS until season 7 (”Deathstiel?”) due to the way cons, circuits, and fansites kept the conversation force-muted at that point. Anything they had floated somewhere in the area of “hah that is kinda gay I guess”, and even that there’s no evidence of being frequent.

Kripke left, the show petered, social media was new, and summarily, Sera Gamble was a dumbass and listened to the wrong crowd that seemed super big back when big accounts were a whole 10K followers and you had 50 asshats screaming as a coordinated group about Ruining The Show™. Ratings tanked, somewhere between Misha being fired and the show turning into a parody of itself with dick jokes that made it seem like Gamble was trying to target 11 year old boys for her audience, and like, that’s it, that was the season.

Until that nosedive spiral essentially turned into a shorthand apology reversal, a panicked and roughly written script that was *SO GAY* that *EVEN MISHA FUCKING COLLINS* couldn’t seriously choke out the dialogue. It was cheap, it was out of character, and as Jensen put it, the dialogue might as well have had him petting and sobbing into Castiel’s coat while essentially being like I SLEEP WITH YOUR COAT EVERY NIGHT TO REMEMBER YOUR SCENT UWU and shit that just LITERALLY vaulted from alien fascinated staring into desperate teenage gay drama in the body of a 30 year old man.

So yeah. Did I consider it reasonable to change that? Fuck yes I did.

Was what Sera Gamble did queerbait? Yes, actually. And she did it again in the Magicians. You see, Gamble had fucked over an audience, and then tried to exploit that audience in reverse when she realized she fucked over the *wrong* audience, but had zero intent of fulfillment.

And then magically, Sera Gamble didn’t fucking work there anymore after a whole like, year and a half as showrunner.

Now, at the same time, Dawn Ostroff was leaving the CW. Jensen’s had some pretty fierce words about Dawn Ostroff not understanding the show and how to manage it, but whatever. Bye, Dawn. Hello… MARK FUCKING PEDOWITZ. But at the same time, WELCOME BACK CARVER and most of all HOWDY DO NETFLIX, so nice to make a guaranteed deal with you (that ended as of this year due to a CBS merchandising meltdown).

When Carver came back, he said a lot of things. He… very tactfully called Gamble’s era trash by phasing it like “:) Watching the show :) since I left :) I realized :) a lot of our mythology :) has been difficult to follow :) so I went :) back to basics :) please help”, and others, like mentioning he had a three year plan on his desk. So 3. Season 8, 9, 10. He had notes for his S10 finale in mind and everything! Great stuff.

Now the fandom, at this point, generally didn’t pay attention to the network or production. In fact, the actor worship around here is some other kind of wild and I don’t know how after 15 years people haven’t figured out that it isn’t how to go about paying attention. Either way – plot switches, showrunner switches, author switches, and NETWORK LEADERSHIP SWITCHES.

Now, this little part here is speculation – but I am 99% sure that when Carver was pulling SPN out of the cancellation toilet, he had bigger things to inform the new execs about than “btw I might make it gay.” Like “Hey, since CW just got its netflix deal, if you give us another year we can import fresh demographic while bringing back Collins’ old fanbase by setting him back as a regular.” SURE, SOUND GREAT, MAKE MONEY, THX.

Cool. Cool. Make sense so far, you still with me?

Because at this point, S8 into early S9, fandom had gotten itself into all kinds of a stir. It was about to go canon, rite nao, said a bunch of bloggers, who at that point WERE pretty much chasing wallpapers and Tshirts and making the most bizarre uncorroborated parallel interpretations like “IF U PARALLEL IT TO MOBY DICK-” WHAT WHY WHERE– ??? BUT cAS = fISH

Okay, my fucking annoyance at what counted as lit crit in those days aside, we’ll get back on track. Everybody started vibrating for this shit because, you know what, S8 did resonate pretty strong, almost like authors were toying with ideas. I’m not gonna get into stuff about Robbie, I THINK fandom knows the statements he’s made and I don’t just mean the whole Destiel being canon tweet both antis and bitters descended on him to eviscerate him about. About what? Calling it queerbait!

So here we go, the great advent. About a year after a dramatic network shift, a CW exec was like :))))))))) I’D LIKE TO LEARN ABOUT THIS FANDOM THAT IS SUDDENLY MAKING ME MONEY!! WHAT SHOULD I DO??? TO TWITTER! HASHTAG TALK TO THEM!

[logs in]

Beep boop. “Destiel?” “Destiel?” “Destiel?” “Destiel?” “Destiel?” “Destiel?” “Destiel?” “Destiel?” “Destiel?” “Destiel?” “Destiel?” “Destiel?” “Destiel?” “Destiel?” “Destiel?” the FUCK is a Destiel? Wait what no I don’t know what you’re talking about representation isn’t our intention with these characters. “QUEERBAIT” “QUEERBAIT” “QUEERBAIT” “QUEERBAIT” “QUEERBAIT” “QUEERBAIT” “QUEERBAIT” “QUEERBAIT” “QUEERBAIT” “QUEERBAIT” “QUEERBAIT”

And then the network exec got so slammed he deleted twitter entirely and everybody popped confetti and felt accomplished and did NOT realize how fucking BAD that was. And frankly, anyone that did kinda didn’t want to admit it, because taking responsibility for that tire fire was… not… attractive. In fact, several folks are still around to this day, bitter blogging or making weirdass meta or accusing other people of wallpapers and Tshirts because that’s what they did so *YAY, PROJECTION!*

My own frustrated bitterness aside, I’m going to place some questions down, and not so much answer them as, now that the reader has really taken history in, let them decide:

At this point… is this queerbait?

Because this is when the queerbait yelling began. It’s when every fan with even a moderate platform or site blasted it out there.

It’s when the fandom made DeanCas a big problem.

And it’s also literally the same time Carver left his very first recorded, known direction with a romantic tilt, “The note I got from Jeremy Carver was to play it like a jilted lover, so that’s what we played there,” on LGBT author Bobo berens’ very first episode. Everyone runs circles around that modernly, or goes “SEE??? QUEERBAIT!” without realizing what the FUCK just happened here.

So, SPN went from cancel rating line to their most successful show between 7 and 9. Suddenly corporate sees their successful product *ON FUCKING FIRE* so do you know what happens?

Fuck it this IS one line I’ll break: Corporate panicked. They changed their press packets. If you noticed a bunch of media-adjacent people and their friends suddenly get bitter as FUCK in season 10 after still surviving the S9 mess, here’s fucking why. Because now that everybody spent the last YEAR trying to burn down the product yelling about shit that corporate had been literally blindsided by, they added temporarily a new section to the packet that included sexuality. They were, at that moment, suddenly listed collectively as heterosexual men. SEE, WE AREN’T QUEERBAITING IF WE TELL YOU THEY’RE STRAIGHT *will smith pose*

Congrats fandom, you have now officially made Destiel A Huge Problem™ to the corporate behemoth behind the shiny pictures. The iron curtain dropped. This is what you could call “Protect the Product Mode” if you will.

Now again, at this point: Is it queerbait?

Because at this point, S9-10 was rolling out. We all know it, Cain, Collette, *gestures off into infinity* But let’s fall back to Carver’s statement. 3 years. 8, 9, 10. You know what else happened season 10?

A bunch of shit, including shit Carver *wrote himself for the season 10 finale* got filmed, then cut. Coincidentally, it was all very gay shit. Things that pulled forward the Crowley/Abaddon Cas/Colette Sam/Abel parallels, arguing over who was who’s boyfriend, Rowena mentioning about them both being shattered at the Altar of Winchester (15.3 is calling), the secret admirer dream, I could go on. I mean, this shit literally would have shifted the entire storytelling arc to full-frontal taking that parallel and addressing it right up in your face. First you’ll kill your mistress but you’ll get it done, and then you’ll kill your wife. He’s your boyfriend no he’s YOUR boyfriend. You’ve BOTH been shattered at the Altar of Winchester. Really, this is what you dream about? Your secret admirer Cas?

K? K. K?

Is it queerbait for Carver to have entered with a plan? Is it queerbait for Carver to have been interrupted on that plan despite attempting to pursue it? And is it queerbait for the network to still lock down on that plan so close after the event?

You see why this conversation gets increasingly complex.

S11 rolled around, Carver was half in half out, Dabb was stepping in, big gay heart songs, take what you will out of that entire mess, and by S12 Dabb entirely took over and we started entering the era we are in today.

So let’s address where we’re at today.

Now :) I can’t say anything for sure :) because anybody that’s been to or worked on marketing stuff definitely has an NDA :) but let’s play for a minute. Let’s say with the stone wall up, a set of creators still wanted to actually *go somewhere* with this story.

“But!” remembered the network, “Remember the tire fire?! And all the people that hated the gay?! What about our profit?!”

“No,” a creator might say, “Tides have changed.”

“We’ll see,” a network might say, “Take it to market testing.” At which point, one would enter a few years of polling how the general audience reacts to this.

Now, if they were seeing promising numbers, they might be given a bit of rope. Why, let’s … just pretend. Totally. Totally pretending. That Dabb pitched this idea to take up Carver’s mantle. Let’s say that started S12ish when he took over. Let’s say they ran through hiatus. And then… authors might be given a little bit of a line. “Looks good, but we’re not sure,” said a network quite fond of its split conservative/liberal demographic, “Try it out a bit and see how it goes.”

And so an author room that would be full of LGBT creators fed out good faith groundwork. They might even be like YALL ITS NEVER TOO LAAAAAATE TO START ALL OVER AGAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN and just throw their whole boy howdy cowboy into that shit and get great ratings.

What if even if the results came back positive leaning, the network ho’ed and hummed and stayed noncommital? Might the creators scale it back while still writing it lowkey just in case they got flashed a greenlight? I know I sure would, woudn’t you?! Or I guess would you prefer we drop the whole thing cold and stop writing anything vaguely in the direction?

Difficult question, in reality, isn’t it?

So in this TOTALLY HYPOTHETICAL SITUATION, this leaves the authors holding the bag, waiting for a sign, and being held with limitations. And just in case anybody thinks “BUT AUTHORS CAN DO WHATEVER THEY WANT!! AND!! OTHER SHOWS!!!”

K have we come down to reality yet? So, sure kids, try the gay, we’re interested, but you can’t like, go Full Gay Frontal with it. You gotta imply the gay. Wouldn’t want to offend conservative america! Besides! We’re totally exploiting marketing making this LGBT content for you over here! *jingles a carrot on a stick* LOOK AT HOW MUCH WE’RE FLEECING ADVERTISING PROMOTING ALL THIS GAY STUFF FOR YOU AREN’T THE RAINBOWS GREAT?

Some creator of limited LGBT content: How’s the marketing looking?

Some network: EH! We’ll see!

Some creator of limited LGBT content: K guys we’ll scale it back to not upset them but don’t drop it.maybe we can have them hold hands at the end or if we’re lucky maybe they’ll say we can do the whole thing

Some LGBT creators: K

Making sense still? STILL WITH ME?

So at this point… is this queerbait, or is this business?

Put aside the emotional reaction. Realize this really only hit scale in S9, hit front line S10, and hit potential corporate discussion in this TOTALLY theoretic universe around S11-12. We’re talking 3-4 years. Not 10. And we’re talking only a few of it really being tested.

So again I ask, history minded: Is this queerbait, or is this business?

That’s where the nuance and complication comes in, and let it be said I am in no way defending the CW. I fucking hate the network. They have literally personally screwed over real friends of mine and I hope they choke on a whole bag of dicks with their bullshit, but honestly, the shit I have seen and heard would make people stick their heads in the sand like scared and ashamed ostriches for every time they trumpet “BUT OTHER SHOWS” – you don’t know what’s going on in those shows. You don’t know how they’re getting hardballed on budget decisions, you don’t know what that show’s marketed demographic is about, you don’t know what they demand cast how, you literally don’t have a fucking idea unless you’re up in that disaster zone.

And even IF you’re in that disaster zone, unless you’re truly in the upper echelon, you only know so much.

Now let’s pretend, again, totally metaphorically, and absolutely not inspired by a real person at all, that someone worked with the crew for a while and, because they saw support inside creeping upward siiiiince mmmm gosh we’ll say season 12 since that’s our advent and totally not when anybody specific started working there and telling fandom ladder fans what they thought they saw going on, only to get sad and bitter and angry and eventually leave, and all those friends, still abiding old bitterness from S9~, now get angrier because of somebody else’s burnout on their ITK level and perspective, even if that was *probably* aggravated by other work stress conditions as well, but hey! WHO KNOWS!?!?! :)))) What a weird hypothetical though and I’m getting weirdly super specific on it aren’t I so LET’S MOVE ON.

We’re in S12-13 discussion category now.

So my question is, from this perspective… when do you call queerbait? When not swept up in misguided hysteria… at what point do you say “Yeah, you know what, yup, that’s all queerbait”?

So we’re gonna take a bit of a break here for a second and really process all of that hypothetical world, where a creator pitched going for it, and got it put into market testing, and was given enough rope to hang themselves on if the network changed its mind.

After only a few years of conscious thought on it… do you even think the network is truly consciously misguiding specifically those fans, or do they see it as giving the fans something they want while testing the idea of possibly truly giving it to them?

Because here’s what fandom misses – the corporate perspective. And again, I’m utterly not fucking justifying the CW as a whole, but people look at this from the angle of fans, and then argue what they think is representative dialogue from the angle of fans, often while missing all of this history. All that history up till S9? That’s all very real. But looking at history in perspective… who are you going to blame for that? Is it fair to hold S4-9 to that five year stretch of queerbait when that was… pretty much fandom manufactured from blissful ignorance to begin with? I mean if you want to go yell at Sera Gamble Specifically okay (please don’t) but beyond that like– that shit? Is that anybody’s fault? Do you blame a company for actually shutting DOWN the talk of it on a press angle? Can we call that and S10 queerbait then? Was Carver’s attempt at writing through it queerbait? Was trying to continue the story in S11 after theoretic shutdown queerbait? These are all genuine questions that are not asked enough. Most people don’t even realize they need to be asked.

So back to Totally Theoretic Land, where S12ish market testing would have been going on to see if people really thought it was Gay N Shit. Like a lot of people in an overwhelming majority after the amount of apprehension the straight old dude running the network has ever since the goddamn tornado of horse shit that happened like a year after he took over. Probably not the fondest fucking memory for him either. Probably also why he dismissively called most of that demographic “casual fans”, because in Smug White Guy Brain, “tru” fans would have all known, I guess, exactly the shit I’m telling you in history backtrack so, look at the silly girls wanting the gay shit :) Ahhhh girlllllls

Okay so, my impression of douchebags aside, let’s give it 12-13 hiatus to give the first test rope lead and 13-14 hiatus for the next, only to have at best noncommital and uncertain numbers and authors, theoretically, cautiously pulling back while writing it as generally established and implicit, as if it might, I don’t know, go from BIG GAY DRAMA to DEADASS DOMESTIC all of a sudden despite ITS NEVER TOO LATE TO START ALL OVER AGAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN cuz get it, they started over, after he came in his room and played him. *elbows* You all get it right?

K. So maybe numbers changed. Maybe they don’t. Maybe I’m not comfortable talking in this hypothetical, maybe I don’t have access to this hypothetical AU’s current marketing data as of this year, I just don’t know! We don’t know where those cards fell.

But if, at this point, after 2-3 years of market testing, and leading authors on, and giving them enough rope to hang themselves with to get themselves accused of queerbait just for trying to lay good faith groundwork for a cohesive narrative, because fans don’t care that 2 open closet LGBT authors are on deck or that there’s totally theoretically probably and in no way fingering anyone at least one closeted author on deck, or at least publicly so, their coworkers would probably know. But I mean. That’s just. :) statistics. Right?

K whatever moving on. If at this point they’ve been boggley bounced around… you know, I gotta say. At this point… I might actually call queerbait if the network stonewalls it. At this point, they’ve had a few years to really get their shit together, and if they’ve just used it to play yo yo with LGBT creators trying to make content then yeah, go suck a whole bag of dicks.

The problem being with the lack of nuance in this conversation, you’re right, Dabb and co would catch it rather than the guilty party, which is why I HATE faux activism culture. If you’re going to be an activist pay the fuck attention to what you’re being an activist in, don’t bite the hand that’s feeding you just because it was a PBJ and not filet mignon, go after the bastard 1%’er that’s eating all the goddamn filet mignon. But nobody will. It never works like that. And then everybody wonders why this continues – be it in this show, or on other networks.

But hey. Maybe this theoretic network got enough material to change their mind. Maybe another executive got promoted that might help one of the other creators argue it to corporate with their new shiny title. Maybe they can convince someone. Convince them of what and to what level, who knows. Maybe just continue telling the established story, give them a divorce, mention marriage, divorce, dead wives, breakups every 0.2 seconds while they go through a classically framed dark point in the romance everybody with brains and eyes understands because, again, historic storytelling we literally all recognize, but pretend we don’t when stomping about personal representation lines? Or hey! Maybe it’ll go further. (Don’t hold your breath.) Throw in some other shit that even a straight guy would look at and be like “two dicks one chick that shit’s gay bro” because WE LITERALLY ALL FUCKING KNOW WHAT IT MEANS EVEN IF IT’S IMPLIED BECAUSE THE NETWORK IS A BUNCH OF PUSSIES.

…*stops, breathes*

If you can’t tell this is a very long term topic of frustration to me, because nobody, absolutely nobody, wants to introspect and think, you know, maybe it wasn’t queerbait back then, maybe we SHOULDN’T have set a corporate exec on fire about it, that might have been fucking bad.

There are other ways to be an activist than to scream queerbait into the void at whoever is unfortunate enough to cross your paths. One of the best examples I can remember is Exorcising Emily collecting demographics on fandom, and testimonials from LGBT fans about resonating with the content – no fanfic, no fanart, no attacks – and sent copies of this to several powerful creative names.

Now… if with this history… if, from season 9 to 12… one of those names became a creator. If, by some FLUKE of imagination… he still had that book around… and even gave it to his freshly joined new employees like 2 weeks after they started working there–

oh wait and i oop

The mentions would be much as you expect, antis screaming and demanding her job (QUICK, somebody tell Andrew Dabb that she’s READING ANDREW DABB’S OWN BOOKS THAT HE CHOSE TO KEEP AROUND FOR THREE YEARS).

Has Dabb’s era seemed… more plugged in? More resonant? Better and stronger in its storytelling? More hooked into fandom?

See, that’s what well thought activism can do. Well thought activism can structure an entire movement. Poorly thought rioting thinking itself as activism can cause the literal opposite effect of what it wanted. That is how these things contrast each other. And that is something fandom needs to DEEPLY consider.

…but is it queerbait for him to try to continue the story? Even if, say, we drop the marketing talk, because TOTALLY nobody can ACTUALLY know because AGAIN anyone that DOES would have an NDA so we DEFINITELY can’t say anybody knows anything for sure, because anyone that said jack shit would probably get sued so hard their descendents down in whatever homo superior evolution 1000 years into the future would feel it, so you know. We’ll put aside this totes theoretical shit and ask

…If he just was told no– would you prefer to just drop the storyline entirely at this point?

Again. Genuine question. And difficult. And something poorly thought queerbait screaming can actually cause, too.

So here we are in the land of the final season. Whether you consider it network queerbait or not – again, they can choke on the whole bag of dicks at a network level for all I care for ANY number of reasons, even well beyond the domain of Supernatural, and may all their bacon burn from here into the next life – it’s a lot more complicated than fandom has ever let it on to be, because letting it on to be what it really is, in full perspective, also demands a lot of introspection and acceptance, and we all know nobody in this fandom can ever make a mistake ever and they’re all fucking perfect darlings.

It’s a complicated answer to a simple idea… and unfortunately I don’t think this fandom will ever really sit here. They’ll yell “VICTIM BLAMING” because it’s buzzy, they’ll yell “HIDING YOUR GAYS” which I mean, yeah, but let’s talk about what led us here. They’ll yell a lot of things. But they will rarely quietly think, and study, and hone down to what’s going on in the world out there beyond what they have, at this point, become obsessively hotlocked on.

Supernatural, as of 15.7, has already taken several steps further than it ever is before. No, that’s not a signal of me saying [Your Personal Goalpost] is going to happen. But it’s a sign that if they have a line, they’re testing it with every strength they have.

Going back onto the Fateful Advent: Cain. The mentor– who was never going to stop; I can’t stop samuel; he was never going to stop; I will never stop; Rowena, the mentor, never going to stop, shattered, at the altar of Winchester. Long ago, when Cas was human, Dean sealed him away, and now, he’s doing the same to him. So Shirt Of Bad Decisions Deanmon basically karaokes with his friend like the Crowley days, REPEATING the Crowley dialogue but infinitely harder to dodge, as if some sort of calculated method of cat’s cradle of How To Write The Gay was discussed. Man, whoever wrote that kind of shit would probably even publicly thank whatever big gay mastermind helped them map out THAT level of stuff. Wouldn’t it be funny if most of that shit had been written by a gay dude that’s still around and it’s still popping back up in the show louder and harder to dodge than before? That’d be fuckin’ wild, man. Oh, fucking WAIT.

And this is why I hate the way shipping culture thinks it’s doing activism. Most of the time it’s cosplaying as an activist and at this point it’s become more of a furry convention than it has any kind of organized rights movement. Nobody’s out here fighting for the rights of these LGBT authors this year, nobody’s helping them get a voice, and in fact, often scream at them or bury what voice they’ve had as not enough.

And I want to fix it.

Desperately.

And frankly, I don’t know how anymore.

But what we’re not talking about is some 3-5 year show that came in early and started intentionally fucking at you. We’re looking at happy coincidences, so let’s check with our gay king, the father of Wayward that everybody coincidentally accepted as canon with far less because of a (meaningful) third party line DeanCas had elsewhere but hey it didn’t have antis so suddenly it counts; let’s check with him about that.

That’s my king. That’s my king that wrote the first recorded episode to be intentionally directed as jilted lovers. My king that gav eus Colette. My king that gave us the mixtape. My king that gave us the PR framed breakup. My king that gave us Cas leaving Dean. That’s my King. That’s my gay king who has been fighting his ass off, only to be hung out to dry by a fandom that doesn’t even care to look where or how to scream, or maybe consider that perhaps screaming isn’t the option.

Is he yours yet? Have I broken through to a single soul on this?

That’s my king who wrote about the necessary evils in 2003, before the youngest in this fandom were born and while many were still in diapers or kindergarten; about the unfortunate necessary evils that he loathes and acknowledges about moderate queer content gaining exponential amounts of platform compared to whatever is considered hardline aggressive at the time, about how that incrementalization is what helped our media landscape evolve to this day.

And he isn’t wrong.

And he’s getting roasted for doing just that.

And I really wish I could just psychically make everyone fucking stop.

But I will say one thing.

“It’s network queerbait!” I mean

Yeah

That

Because… realistically? like 99% of modern queer content is queerbait, even stuff with canon queer content.

ESPECIALLY on the CW.

If you’ve noticed CW panicking the last year and trying to slap rainbows and DARE TO DEFY on everything, it’s because their entire fucking ecosystem just got fucked over by CBS wanting 100% merchandising profit like it already took 100% digital profit and Netflix was basically like “miss us with your bullshit” and broke the CW contract which was *HOW PEDOWITZ BANKROLLED MOST OF HIS NETWORK*. Now? Now CW has to carve a niche. So LOOK AT ALL THE FUCKING PRIDE COLORS ON– OUR– STRAIGHT–CHARACTERS??? BUT WE HAVE GAY ONES LIKE LEGENDS OF TOMORROW AND *flips notes* THAT SIDE CHARACTER LESBIAN ON SPN.

*gets a whisper* What they killed her? Shit. Maybe bring her back. AND THERE’S THIS PERSON OVER ON JANE THE VIRGIN oh that just got cancelled uhhh VAMPIRE DI-wait fuck. Well we’ll just make one of the chicks in this shitty charmed reboot CBS just forced down our throat and killed Wayward over, that’ll fix it *jazz hands*

TV is a business. Businesses make money. The entire LGBT battle is basically us industriously proving we can make money. It’s about rights and visibility on our end, but on their end it is *always* about money and I really don’t think anybody really groks what that really means.

So “it’s the network! Queerbait!”

…yeahhhhh.

…welcome to working in television. Now you just have to sit and think about how many other times this has completely missed your radar.

The network will never get a shit about you, they give a shit about your money, and that’s just the reality of capitalist america whether we like it or not. When it’s 2143 and bernie sanders’ floating head in a jar is president and andrew yang’s base income shit is in effect and we’re all a socialist country and the world has figured out how to run high cost businesses like TV on the power of unicorn farts, they might actually give a shit. But they don’t. There may be a few advocates WITHIN the company that do, but as a whole body, the network will never give a shit. They don’t care if you’re black, white, straight, gay, disabled, male, female, beyond what, explicitly, that totals to in dollar signs depending how they feed you, when and where.

So it’s not like... *just* a queer rights issue, it’s an “Anything Trump’s America may consider offensive on their television” issue. It’s businesses weighing who they think pays their bills while making it and beyond that who they think is the safest investment to make the most money.

As a side note: Personally, I’d consider it dumb as fuck to not do it. SPN will taper within a few years down to just trekkie-esque addicts unless they find a way to get a new burst of viewership and boy howdie do I hope so, but how much Pedowitz overvalues the conservative US demographic, or certain international markets, I don’t know. I’m not in his head and I don’t have this year’s marketing numbers beyond basic live, +3 and +7 ratings, and digital calls. And just general nielsen released demo. But how he’s added that all up? Can’t say. And I sure ain’t gonna bank on him not being a dumbass, when he’s famous for it, so don’t go get your hopes up either.

#supernatural #representation #queerbait #intersectionality #business #corporate #marketing

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tsuki-chibi · 4 years

Text

Blackberries (Adrinette April) Day 26: Sick day

Or see it on AO3: Blackberries

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When Marinette walked into school on Monday morning, she kind of wished she had taken a sick day, because the hottest topic of conversation was Coccinelle and Lynx and the new Bee and Fox miraculous holders. As she walked to Madame Bustier’s classroom, she couldn’t help looking around and wondering if one of the students around her was Coccinelle or Lynx. It could’ve been anyone.

‘This sucks,’ she thought to Adrien, who had already arrived at the classroom. Rather than wait outside for Marinette like he usually did, he’d been dragged into the school by an overly excited Alya.

‘It’s frustrating,’ Adrien thought in agreement. ‘But maybe, with time, it’ll get a little easier and we won’t wonder as much.’

Marinette had her doubts about that. Any attempts at getting Tikki to give so much as a hint about Coccinelle’s identity had been met with either silence or polite refusals or, last night when she had pushed Tikki too far, a gentle scolding about respecting privacy. Adrien had also asked Plagg about Lynx a few times, but Plagg usually just laughed at him and refused to say anything.

“Marinette, there you are!” Alya cried as Marinette slid the door to their classroom open.

“Uh – what?” Marinette said, freezing and wondering if her phone had lied and she was late.

‘You’re not late. Alya is just going crazy,’ Adrien thought, waving to her from where he was still sitting beside Chloé in the front row. Chloé wasn’t there yet.

“Did you read my newest article on the Ladyblog?” Alya demanded, practically jumping down the stairs to shove her phone in Marinette’s face. “Look! It has over two hundred thousand views already! That’s over twice as many views as I got from Lila’s interview!”

“Wow,” Marinette said, gently easing Alya’s phone away from her nose. “That’s really cool! And of course I read it, but my mom made me help in the bakery all day yesterday. We were slammed. I didn’t get a chance to text you.”

“Sure, yeah,” Alya said absently, all of her attention on her blog as she hit the refresh button again. Marinette slipped by and made her way up to her desk, thankful that Lila wasn’t there yet either. Maybe she would be lucky and Lila would be the one who was out sick.

“Good morning, Marinette,” Nino said.

“Hi Nino,” Marinette said with a smile, taking her seat. “Long weekend?”

Nino just sighed. “Let’s just say I’m kinda glad that Alya and I have shields up,” he whispered, leaning towards Marinette. “All she’s been talking about nonstop is that article she wrote.”

“Ouch,” Marinette said, who was well acquainted with exactly how obsessed Alya could get. She suddenly found herself grateful that she had been preoccupied all weekend. Listening to Alya drone on about Ladybug was awkward enough. She really didn’t want to have to listen to endless theories about the new Bee and Fox too!

“So do you think there’ll be an akuma attack today?” Alya demanded, throwing herself down in her seat. She looked from Marinette to Nino to Adrien, clearly expecting an answer. Marinette looked at Nino and shrugged, so Nino turned hopefully to Adrien. Adrien sighed.

“Uh – we don’t know,” he said at last. “I don’t think anyone but Hawkmoth knows that.”

“But I need someone to get akumatized!” Alya cried.

“Alya!” Nino said. “That’s awful.”

Alya scrunched her face up. “I know, but how else am I going to find out more about Coccinelle and Lynx?” she asked, dramatically flopping over the desk. “If they’re anything like Ladybug and Chat Noir, they’ll only come out when there’s an akuma or when they’re on patrol. And who even knows if they’re going to be doing patrols? I just have so many questions I want to ask!”

“It’s very unlikely that they’re going to tell you what you want to know even if you do get to see them,” Marinette pointed out.

“You don’t know that. I can be very persuasive,” Alya said, wiggling her eyebrows.

“What do you even want to know?” Adrien asked.

“Everything! I want to know why Ladybug and Chat Noir stopped being heroes, I want to know who Coccinelle and Lynx are, I still want to know who Ladybug and Chat Noir are – I want to know it all!” Alya proclaimed.

“Why don’t you just ask Lila?” Marinette said before she could stop herself.

“Why would Lila know?” Alya asked, puzzled.

“Well, you said Lila and Ladybug are best friends. If Ladybug doesn’t have the Ladybug miraculous anymore, then surely she would’ve told Lila who she was so they could keep hanging out,” Marinette said in the most innocent voice she could muster. “Lila probably knows all the details now.”

Adrien was hard-pressed to restrain a smirk as Alya’s eyes lit up. ‘You’re evil,’ he thought.

‘You know it,’ Marinette thought smugly. She was extremely curious to find out what Lila would say in response to that. Though knowing Lila and the wild stories she could pull out of mid-air, she’d probably make something up about Ladybug having to flee Paris unexpectedly. After all, it wasn’t like Lika could give the name of someone. Not unless she had someone willing to lie for her…

“That’s a great idea!” Alya burst out. “Maybe she’d be willing to do another interview!”

Nino was smiling at Alya’s enthusiasm. “You won’t know until you ask. And there’s your chance.” He nodded to the door and Marinette turned to look as Lila walked into the room. Chloé, Sabrina, and Ivan were right behind her.

“Hi Lila!” Alya said.

“Hi,” Lila said, making her way up to her desk.

“Did you see the Ladyblog this weekend?” Alya asked.

“Yeah,” Lila said slowly. “Why?” She looked from Alya to Nino to Adrien before settling on Marinette, her eyes narrowed. It was obvious that she knew something was up, but she wasn’t sure what. Marinette couldn’t help a small smirk.

“I wanted to know if you’d do another interview!” Alya said, and it was wonderful to see the way that Lila froze.

“Another interview? Why?” Lila asked.

“Because you’re Ladybug’s best friend, of course! You’ve got the inside scoop on why she’s no longer a superhero,” Alya said. “And maybe even on her identity?” She looked hopefully at Lila.

‘This is great,’ Adrien thought gleefully.

‘She looks totally panicked,’ Marinette thought, biting her lip to hold a smile in.

“U-um… I’ll have to see…” Lila said, clearly trying to think fast. “Ladybug, she – she doesn’t really want me spreading her secrets…”

“But she’s not Ladybug anymore,” Nino said. “Hey, maybe you could even introduce us!”

“That would be amazing!” Marinette chimed in, unable to resist.

“I’d like to meet her too,” Adrien added.

“So would I,” Chloé said, setting her backpack down behind Asrien. “You did say on the blog that you’d do more interviews. You wouldn’t want to disappoint your fans, right?”

“Of – of course not,” Lila said weakly.

“Speaking of blogs, did you guys see the picture of Marinette and Adrien?” Chloé went on, turning to Alya and Nino.

“No,” Alya said, looking baffled by the fact that Chloé was speaking to her.

“You need to see it. They look like the perfect couple,” Chloé gushed, pulling her phone out and turning it on. She aimed it at Alya and Nino – and, Marinette realized, at Lila, who took one look at the photo and went white. Then she flushed red with anger.

‘Remind me to bake Chloé a dozen cookies,’ Marinette thought.

‘She deserves way more than just a dozen,’ Adrien thought. ‘I almost feel bad for enjoying this.’

“Wow, that is a great picture,” Alya said, impressed.

“Excuse me,” Lila mumbled, grabbing her backpack. She rushed down the steps and out the door.

“Oh, poor Lila,” Alya said, her smile immediately falling. “Seeing you guys together is so hard for her.”

Chloé put her hands on her hips. “And why would that be?” she asked tightly.

Alya awkwardly glanced over her shoulder at Marinette. “Ah, well…”

“If the next words out of your mouth have anything to do with soulmates, then save it,” Chloé sneered. “You call yourself a journalist, but you’re really failing to check your sources. I’ve never heard of an ethical and genuine journalist that ignores an established source of information for pure clickbait bullshit.”

“Watch it, Chloé,” Nino said warningly.

“Shut it, Lahiffe. This doesn’t concern you,” Chloé said haughtily. “Everyone, listen up!” She yelled that last part, and everyone in the class turned to look at them.

“What is it?” Alix said.

“At first I thought it was funny, but now I’m sick of it and so I’m putting this dumb rumor to rest. Adrien Agreste and Lila Rossi are not soulmates. Whatever Rossi thinks she feels towards him is all in her head,” Chloé said. Adrien’s mouth dropped open in surprise.

“How do you know?” Alya demanded.

Chloé glared at her. “Because Adrien and I have been friends since we were children. I know what his words are, and I guarantee you that Rossi did not, and never will, say them.”

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #chloe bourgeois #alya cesaire #lila rossi salt #nino lahiffe #soulmates au #blackberries #adrinetteapril2020

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somekpopthingsuknow · 5 years

Note

Hey, I’m new to your blog yet I love your writing so much honestly 💖 Could I request a Blackpink reaction to their s/o being insecure about their weight because all the girls have perfect bodies and bp being comforting and loving?

Blackpink recation: Their s/o are insecure because of their weight and Blackpink comfort them

Thanks for requesting!

Before everything, remember that Blackpink have perfect bodies but you have too!

Then, the TW: for all the girls, there are mentions of self-hatred and body-image issues. And for Rosé and Lisa (it's really rude for Lisa's part) they are explicit fatphobia/hate comments. Please, be safe! If it's make you uncomfortable don't read! And if you need to talk about your own issues, you can always dm me ^^ !

Kim Jisoo:

Their comeback is a huge success. Everybody talks about it and praises it. You are also so proud of your girlfriend, she worked so hard for her vocals, her dance and her visuals. Jisoo has a beautiful voice you like very much. Blinks also love her voice.

But among all of her talents, her visuals are the most praised. And you understand perfectly why. Her face is a creation of god and her body is the definition of perfection. Every bit of her is perfect.

You were at her side during the pre-comeback. You were with her when she was making all of her beauty masks and you helped her sometimes with those. And you also sometimes were the feedbacks of her hairstyles.

You know your girlfriend isn't allowed to go on social medias during a week after her comebacks, to try not to hurt too bad her mental health. You, however, hasn't any interdiction.

Lying down in your couch, Jisoo's head in your thigh, you scroll through her latest Instagram post.

allineedisjisoo

omg 😍😍😍 Jisoo is so endearing!! I lov her so much ❤❤❤❤❤

jisooisourqueen

Look 👏 at 👏 her 👏 She 👏 is 👏 beautiful

blackpistherevolution

my bias is rosę but jisoo is lit 🔥🔥🔥 perfect face, perfect hands, perfect thighs, perfect body, she has everything

They are good comments, complimenting your girlfriend's body and you are very pleased of that. But somewhere, in your chest, something is heavy.

This something goes up along your throat, then to your eyes and you has the sudden urge to cry. The more you look at all these praiseful comments, the more you feel the tears come up.

Your girlfriend is so beautiful and you, well, you are just you. Not enough pretty, not enough handsome, not enough for her.

"Honey?" Jisoo asks, feeling something is wrong.

You want to answer but you hold back your tears so hard you aren't able to speak. Jisoo sit up, her beautiful face in front of yours. You couldn't help but look all over her body. Why everything about her has to be perfect and everything about you has to be wrong?

"Honey, hey, Love?" Jisoo keeps trying to make you speak to her but you just shook your head. "What's happening?" She touches your cheek and makes a small smile, trying to be reassuring.

"It's j-just," some tears begin to fall down on your cheeks, "you're so b-beautiful, I don't understand why y-you would be with me."

She tries to speak, visibly worried. Why are you saying that? You are her s/o, you are perfect! But you don't let her any time.

"I'm so ugly, my body's so ugly with all my fat and all..." You cry for good.

She is at lost for words. She used to comfort the girls, and she hates herself to not being able to comfort you. But finally she knows what to say.

"Honey, look," she puts her hand on your thigh. "This, your thights and your tummy are one of the thing I prefer about you. They're so comfy, I can sleep all day on it!" She places her hand on your tummy. "I like your body as much you like mine." She now kisses your cheeks and removes the tears on it. "I love you, I love your body. You're beautiful, love, don't forget that."

Kim Jennie:

You starte fondly at your girlfriend when the photographer takes pictures of her.

Jennie stands, quickly moves as the photographer speaks. Her dress is beautiful but not as beautiful as her. No wonders why this very popular magazine asked to have Jennie as ambassador.

She slightly bites her lips and accentues the move of her hips and then giggles when the photographer is done. It always amazes you how much she was able to have the vibe of Venus and then being the cutest kitten.

"Beautiful, very beautiful" says the photographer as he takes other photos. The photographers use to say that sort of things and you don't mind. You know it's a common thing among the photography world and if it don't bother your girlfriend, it don't bother you either. Plus, your girlfriend is actually beautiful, so he only speaks the truth.

You can't help but stare. At every occasion, you takes a look on your girlfriend and a photo shoot is a perfect occasion. You observe her feet, gently covered by thin shoes; her legs, muscular and clear, perfect in every point; her breast, thin and very graceful and her arms, very elegant. Another thing you can't help: you are a bit jealous. Not because everybody looks at your girlfriend but because everybody looks at your girlfriend AND nobody looks at you.

Without really think about it, your eyes fall on your own body and you frown. What a disgrace. Your eyes quickly alternate between her body and yours, studying and geez, there are so much to compare.

You are so disgusting. No wonders why everybody praises her and nobody (beside Jennie) praises you. There is nothing pleasing to look at.

Tears come, almost running on your cheeks, but you bite your inner cheeks. Your girlfriend has a good moment, you have no right to cry and break the spell. Especially for something so...so stupid. But the more pictures are taked, the more your sobbing are hard.

Finally, Jennie glances towards you and sees you crying. You try to remove the tears but she is already heading to you.

"[Y/N]? Why are you crying? Something's wrong?"

You shake your head, trying to reassure her. "N-nothing."

"Baby," she embraces you, even if the photographer protestes because she's loosing time. "I'm here, don't worry. What's wrong?"

"Y-you're so beautiful..." Jennie chuckles, unable to do anything else and hugs you tighter. "And me I'm-I'm ugly. Everybody is heels over head for your body and I'm to fat to anyone love me."

"So I'm anyone now?" Immediatly responded your girlfriend, facing you. "These people have no taste, no idea about what is beauty if they find you ugly." She kisses your nose. "You're beautiful [Y/N]. I find you beautiful and everybody with eyes find you beautiful."

You dry your cheeks, smiling a bit at her words.

"Now," she continues, taking your hand, "I will show at everybody how much I love your body and how much you're beautiful." As she speaks, she leads you in front of the camera, posing for the magazine cover with you.

Park Chaeyoung | Rosé:

Allowing YG ent. to let you come in their studios has been a big deal. They want to protect Rosé's image (and not have an another scandal and lose more money). But finally, after a lot of persuasions, you were allowed to come see Rosé.

You don't come often though. Even if you want to see your girlfriend every time, you understand what could be the problems so you don't come that much. Enough for every staff member/trainee to know who you are but not enough to being caught by the press.

"I have to left," you tell Chaeyoung, pouting. You don't want to go, but you has to. You plan to reorganize some things in your room and you want it done before you girlfriend comes back so you can profit of your evening with her.

She pouts too, but she also has some things to do: working on her vocals for their next comeback. She kisses you in the lips, lightly bites your nose and let you go. "I can't wait to be home".

"Me too," you chuckle. You don't live in the same house but she often comes over.

Normally, you haven't any trouble in your walk to your home. But this time, you aren't out of YG's building that you heard three trainees speak together.

"Honestly, I don't understand. She could really have anyone she wants," says the one on the left.

"Yeah. She could have an idol or a model. I don't understand what she dates somebody so...random."

"They're not even that pretty," adds the third trainee. "I mean, Chaeyoung-subaemin is so pretty, it's so lame someone like this date her."

You walk past them, head down, and almost run to your home. Once you're here, you drop your bag and just...crash on your couch, roll in a plaid, thinking about what you just heard.

They are actually not wrong. Chaeyoung can do better, can date all the idols she wants. You look at you. You clearly haven't a body idol type. Your mind start to want wild, thinking that your girlfriend must be ashamed to show you at YG, that she is with you because she has pity...

You are sobbing when she steps inside. At first, she doesn't notice. "Babe, I'm here." You don't answer, instead sniffing. "Babe? You okay?"

"No," you croass. No need to lie when you are crying for the past few hours.

"What's happening?" She's immediately at your side, worrying.

"J-Just some thought," you pause, trying to formulate a correct sentence. "Why are you dating me? You're around so much more beautiful and thinner persons than me."

It suprises her, saddenes her the way you thing you're lower than the other people. "Well, I don't even look at the others," she says, playing gently with your hair. "I'm dating you so I only see you and I only want you."

"You could have anyone-" you protested.

"Maybe, but I don't care. I want you, I have you and that's all that matters."

"I love you," you wisper before sleeping, tired of your cries and berced by her hand in your hair.

Lalisa Manoban | Lisa:

Lisa and you have being through a lot. First, you had faced hurtful critics when you came out. You didn't mean to happen, but things are like that and now everyone know you are dating. The amont of hate you receive decreased with time and you are now more or less in peace.

However, these past few days, hate increases again, but not against Lisa or your relationship: it's all about you. Her "fans" insulte you because of your looks. You aren't very confident about yourself and those hateful comments don't help you to fix it.

lisaismyqueen

its disgusting...[y/n] so ugly!!!

bp_lisa_saranghae

7 billiard humans & and theyre with lisa...theyre so fat, i'll be too shameful to even go outside 😩

kittenlisa

So gross

You decide to not tell your girlfriend about that. She is busy, she works on her dances, you don't need to bother her about some things you read. Plus, hate usually stops after time, so you just have to wait.

But the more you wait, the more you receive hate. It reaches a point where you often cry about that, whether in your bed or in front of the mirror.

This is one of these nights. Your girlfriend stays at home. She's on the bathroom and you're crying. Just a quick crying session, like you use to have these few weeks. Usually, your eyes are dry before she comes out but you fail this time to remove your tears.

"Baby?"

You burst your face in your pillow. With a lot of chance, she will think you're asleep.

"I know you're not sleeping. What's wrong?"

You shrug. You really don't want to speak about that.

"Baby, speak to me. You know I will never judge you." She kisses your head. "So?"

"It-It's just there are rude comments about me and I don't know how to deal with that," you sob.

"Rude comments? Where? Who?" She seems angry and her kisses on your cheeks are angry as well.

"It's all over Internet. I'm fat and ugly and people-"

"Gosh, I hate people," she growls, frustrated to know about this. "Baby, you know they're wrong. You and your curves are stunning."

"You're biased-" you try to argue.

"Baby," she stops you, "Do you thing I'm untalented, not at my place in Blackpink and ugly?"

"No, obviously not!" You almost yell. Who can say that? She's obviously perfect.

"Well, it's what Internet say. But it's wrong. And what's haters can say about you is wrong too, okay? They are just jealous because you're the only I find beautiful."

You kiss her on lips, thankful for her comfort.

Requests are open!

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snarkwriteswrasslin · 4 years

Text

wild winter | dirty dancer; sammy guevara [ suggestive]

PROMPTS USED

Situation : Strangers / dirty dancing

Location : In a nightclub while Sammy was on the road.

Extra: Guilty Pleasures, grinding / thigh riding + heavy makeout.

Notes:

So... this isn’t exactly smut, but.. Thighs are ridden and hickies are left on skin. What can I say, Ginger just really, really, really loves to tease Sammy’s ass. Anyway, I found this one and I knew I had to transfer it over to this blog too. So, here it is.

Pairing:

Sammy Guevara x OFC, Ginger

Warning:

uhh.. this is suggestive, thigh riding / biting and hickies. Beyond that? Nada.

SAMMY & GINGER in

DIRTY DANCER;

“This place is not my scene. I’m out.” Jake Hager’s words barely registered on Sammy, his eyes were fixed on the dance floor. More to the point, they were fixed on the curvy brunette in the middle of the dance floor with the tequila bottle clutched in her hand. Each sway of her hips had Sammy tugging at the collar of a fitted black tee shirt and when he finally did tear his eyes off of the brunette, it was to discover that his friends bailed on him.

“Their loss.” he was quick to shrug it off, making his way over to the bar. He needed to sit down and compose himself because watching the mystery girl dance had… Gotten him all sorts of hot and bothered. Downright stirred up.

He dragged his hand over his eyes to rub them and ease the strain he felt due to the low lights in the club and that’s when he felt someone press against him from behind and soft hands covered his eyes.

“What the hell?” Sammy yelped, about to turn around and punch whichever of his friends it might be screwing around with him.

“I saw you staring.” Ginger mumbled the words confidently against the outer edge of the handsome guy’s ear. She’d been eyeing him since he’d come into her favorite hangout spot earlier in the night with his entourage. She’d have been able to dismiss him as just another frat-boy tourist if he hadn’t started to openly fuck her with those magnetic and deep brown eyes of his. Eyes… They’d always been her downfall. The deeper a man’s eyes, the more of a guilty pleasure that man became. The more she just had to have them, even if only for a little while.

Her voice was whispery soft when she spoke to him, almost a velvety purr. It sent a shiver straight down Sammy’s back and he chuckled, turning on the stool to face her, eyes roaming slow and lustfully over her body. He bit his lip and mulled over his response as he leaned in slightly, reaching out, pulling her closer so that the crowd about to come past didn’t knock her over. He pulled in such a way that she ended up almost on his lap and she gave this little giggle, shaking her head as if to chastise him.

“You’re not denying it. Interesting.” she mused quietly as she moved away from him slightly, almost in a playful way. She was teasing, it didn’t take an idiot to figure that out. Sammy took a shaky breath and nodded to her tequila bottle.

“Partyin’ hard tonight, bomboncita?” Sammy had to say something to break the thick lingering tension between the two. The music was so loud that when he said it, he had to lean in. And yeah, he pulled her in closer all over again, flashing an almost teasing and bold smirk at her as he winked upon doing so. His fingers dug into her hip lightly and he swallowed hard, eyes locked on her.

Ginger’s teeth snagged on her lower lip as she shrugged in answer. She wasn’t even going to begin to think about just how damp she started to get when he used a Spanish pet name on her. Before tonight, before him.. That was not one of her known weaknesses. But something about the way he said it seemed to make it become one before she could stop it from happening.

“All work and no play makes for a dull girl. What about you, tiger?” Ginger offered as an answer, leaning in a bit more, her lips next to his ear.

Sammy bit back a groan and his fingers dug into her hip a little more. “Well, I’ve been chillin here. To make sure nobody messes with ya.” - it was a bold move, but if Sammy was anything, it was definitely true that he was a bit… territorial. And he’d been coming into this nightclub every single night since the show came to town because he was passing by and he saw her standing in the line outside.. There was just something about the way the red lights overhead bathed her in this glow.

He nearly walked into a light post that night and Ortiz and Santana hadn’t been able to let him live it down yet.

Ginger giggled, a brow quirking at his bold statement. She had to give it to the guy, he was nothing if not straightforward. She liked it. It was a refreshing change from the assholes she normally picked up at this place.

Or the ones who tried and failed miserably at picking her up.

“Aw, sweet. So you were gonna protect me, hm? Is that so, tiger?” Ginger was in full blown uncensored flirt mode. She’d grown up here, she knew the guy wasn’t a local and that most likely, he was just passing through. It really made it that much easier for her to just let her inhibitions completely go. There wasn’t any pressure, there wasn’t any potential for heartbreak. And picking up guys like this was another of her guilty pleasures. But this time something felt completely different. This felt… More natural. She was actually being herself right now, not going through her usual little act. The thought was certainly a sombering one and it left her a little dazed.

What he’d told her came rushing out before Sammy got a grip on himself. It wasn’t like him to just blurt something out at first meeting, he was normally much more close to the vest than that. But watching her all week, he’d gotten this whole mental image of her built up in his mind.

And maybe it was the fact that he knew they’d be pulling out of town in another day that gave tonight a sense of urgency.

“ I mean, you’re here all alone.” Sammy wanted to groan at himself, stating the obvious, but it was something. He was talking to her. Not just standing there all tensed and ready to swing if anyone approached her like he had been thus far. It was a step in the right direction. Events finally lined up perfectly.

“Oh but you don’t know that.” Ginger was quick to correct as she winked and leaned in. “Do you dance at all, tiger? Or are you afraid that maybe I’m not here alone?”

“Oh, I dance.. Question is, are you sure you wanna dance with me? I can’t be held responsible for your actions.” his attempt at being suave had her giggling. When she turned to face away from him, he pouted briefly, standing there for a second or two, eyes glued to her ass as she rubbed it right against him. Letting out a low whistle, he pressed himself against her, his hands moving up and down her sides, his mouth next to her ear as he muttered quietly against it, “Fuck. If you’re not here alone, you’re not leavin with the same person you came with. Not if I got anything to do with it, baby girl.”

His hands squeezed her hips, rocking them so that she rubbed against him repeatedly. Ginger’s eyes fluttered open and shut as the strobe lighting overhead lit them up a little better momentarily. She licked her lips, pressing her ass completely against his groin and when his lips grazed against the side of her neck, she exhaled deep. The scent of his cologne, the warmth of his body, his breath against her ear and the way he strained at the dark blue jeans he was wearing; all of it combined to send her into a lustful frenzy.

And with the tequila already working overtime to assure that her inhibitions were pretty well gone, she gave into what she wanted, turning to face him, hands on her chest, gently guiding him down into the nearest chair as she straddled his lap.

Sammy grunted and growled quietly, shifting in the chair to try and get seated in a way that was comfortable for both of them, bucking against her from below. When she whimpered and grinded herself against his thigh, he gasped and his head fell back, his hands dipping down and locking across her back to hold her in place as he leaned in. “You like that, do ya?”

Biting that lip again, Ginger could only nod as Sammy centered her on his thigh completely, chuckling. She leaned in, her mouth crashing against his clumsily, their noses bumping hard causing the two of them to spring apart as they held their noses. It was Sammy who stopped laughing first, raising a hand from where he had it resting against her lower back to cup her jawline and pull her mouth against his completely, his lips latching around her lower lip as his fingers tangled in long and thick dark locks and tugged to pull her into the kiss fully. His tongue pushed past her lips and crashed against her tongue, taking over control of the kiss. His other hand raised to her hip, rocking her back and forth against his thigh, sucking in a sharp breath as the contact and the feel of her starting to get hotter; wetter.. She was practically dripping, he could feel the thigh of his jeans starting to dampen a little.

Her breathing was ragged and when she finally broke the kiss and pulled back to catch her breath, Sammy could take one look at lust blown pupils and tell that she was dangerously close to getting off. And she wasn’t the only one, he thought to himself. If she’d been grinding right against his cock and the way it strained against his jeans, he wasn’t entirely sure he could’ve stopped himself.

The little purple sundress she was wearing gave him easy access. He lowered his hand down, letting the tips of his fingers drag lazily over skin hidden away by the fabric of the flimsy little dress and then, exhaling sharply, he pulled her so that she was seated fully in his lap again, leaning back in and pulling her into another deep and dizzying kiss as he bucked against her from below a few times.

“Your place or my hotel room, baby girl?”

“My place.” Ginger managed to gasp against his neck as she danced her lips down the side, lowering her hand to tug at the waistband of clothing that was in her way and only frustrating her the more and more friction she managed to get just by rubbing herself over his cock. Her cunt was throbbing.

When they got back to her place, she wasn’t even entirely sure they were going to make it into the doorway. She couldn’t recall a time that she wanted anyone quite this badly to have her achy and dripping.

Sammy stood, not even bothering to untangle Ginger from his body. They stumbled out into the night, stopping several times to lean against walls and continue their heated kisses and touching.

–

The sun was shining bright through gauzy curtains and Sammy rolled over, burrowing into the cover until he realized that he wasn’t alone in bed. Brown eyes fluttered open and he yawned, smirking to himself as he sat there, watching her sleep for a few seconds before untangling the sheets from around himself and carefully moving her arm to rest flat against the bed again. He leaned down, brushing his forehead to her lips.

The hard part was having to leave. He was really kicking himself for not just approaching her earlier in the week.

He spotted a red lipliner pen and a napkin and he smirked to himself, leaving her a note.

Last night was the most fun I’ve had in a while, princess. But I don’t want this to be a one night thing, you feel me? I’m gonna leave my cell number. If you call, I’ll know I wasn’t imagining things and you felt something last night.

Sammy.

He tucked the napkin so that it stuck out beneath her phone and finished getting dressed, hoping she’d see it when she woke up, then he walked out, locking her front door behind her. It took him a few seconds to gather himself together but as he leaned against the brick wall of a little cafe a block over from her place, that smirk came easily and he knew he was going to be on pins and needles for a while.

Because she had to call… he couldn’t have been the only one to feel something the night before. He had this strong gut feeling she’d call. Now all he had to do was wait and see if his gut was right or wrong…

#sammy guevara fanfiction #sammy guevara fanfic #sammy guevara fic #sammy guevara oneshot #sammy guevara imagine #// no one under 18+#// four seasons of sm*t self challenge #// suggestive ; implied s*x #// thigh riding ftw

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mtvswatches · 4 years

Text

Wynonna Earp 3x04 No Cure For Crazy

Click here for previous recaps!

Stray thoughts

1) Did that… did that tree just fucking walk?

Is the tree possessed by Dolls or something? Why is a tree helping Wynonna and Doc?

And why is Peacemaker not working?

3) Okay, the trees are fucking bleeding and this dude just called it “a murder tree” and what the actual fuck!

4) So… the “fire” never really happened, it was just a Black Badge cover-up for the massacre. I really want to see where they go with this whole backstory they’ve given Nicole because so far? Not into it.

Nicole does make a good point of asking Waverly why she hasn’t talked to her mom yet to figure out who her parents are. She seemed quite intent on figuring it out last season, and here she has the perfect opportunity to have every answer she’s looking for, and she’s not taking it? Waverly is anything but a chicken, so I’d figured she would confront her mother head on but I guess she’s been conveniently written OOC so that the writers can keep this mystery going for a while. I hope they don’t stretch this for too long, though.

5) Why did Nicole randomly and carelessly throw the ring in the middle of the forest? Huh? That’s also kind of OOC? Wasn’t she talking about disposing of it carefully two minutes ago?

6) MORE OF THIS, PLEASE.

7) And more of this.

8) Okay, so Waverly IS going to see her mother, she just didn’t disclose that bit of information to Nicole, why? She just made this big speech about not keeping secrets from each other… or is it that she wasn’t planning on seeing her mom until Wynonna brought it up and basically set it all up for her?

And suuuure, Mama is doin’ just fine!

9) So, Wynonna couldn’t shoot Peacemaker because she ran out of bullets, which is a more logical explanation than what I was expecting. I don’t know why but I just assumed Peacemaker had magical ammo and it didn’t require reloading? Anywho, look at these two idiots flirting with each other and basically dry-humping…

10) SHIT. That was a low blow.

But how fucking adorable is it that he’d taken the time to buy - or build! - baby Alice a crib? My heart!

11) Why was their mother so intent on Waverly never finding out where she was or seeing her? And what’s going to happen when Waverly does…? There must be a reason. It seems she was trying to protect them.

12) Why are they giving me so much Doc/Wynonna in this episode? What’s going to happen? (Listen, I’ve grown up watching Joss Whedon shows, I’m conditioned to believe that happiness is followed by utter and complete destruction and mysery!)

13)

NICOLE: Can we talk? It’s about Nedley.

WYNONNA: Not again. How many more plungers do we need?

14) Wait, did I forget that Jeremy was gay or they haven’t mentioned it before? Because I’m all for it, and especially about the way it was casually brought up in conversation because it’s not Jeremy’s single defining characteristic.

15) I guess the mother-daughter reunion is happening sooner than expected, since Waverly was contacted as her last known emergency contact.

16) Jeremy is totally vibing with this Robin dude who found the murder tree and they’re making silly tree puns and it’s gay heaven, I love it.

17) Well, that couldn’t have gone any worse…

And yet, I can’t help but feel she means something else? I still feel she’s trying to protect Waverly.

Something happened when Waverly touched her, too, and then she kept saying “she’s unbound, she’s loose, kill the demon.” Waverly of course assumes her mom is referring to her as “the demon”, but I have a feeling she’s talking about an actual demon.

18) I really felt for Nedley when he admitted he’s tired of covering the supernatural shit up. Man, I hated him on the first episode of the show and now I’ve really grown to like him? And Wynonna suggested he should step aside and let Nicole take charge, and he’s actually considering it, and I’m here for Sheriff Haught.

19) Listen, I’m not usually into Gay, meet Gay, now get together because you’re the only two Gays so therefore you must be attracted to each other and date, but… I’m really liking the Jeremy/Robin interactions so far? They’re really cute!

20) And now they’re two gays who have zero idea about the woods lost in the forest and they found the stairway to heaven…

21) Mama Gibson is not messing around.

22) Ah, great, the idiots who let a dangerous convict escape have now locked Wynonna up. Marvelous.

23) Damn, Waverly keeps thinking her mother wants to kill her and that she called her a demon, but I just fucking know she’s talking about a literal demon that’s probably threatening Waverly’s life, that’s why she’s kept away from her.

24) Wait, what?

NEDLEY: Michelle didn’t go to prison because she burned down the barn. She went because her youngest daughter was in it.

Her youngest is Waverly? So did she try to set Waverly on fire? I have a hunch she’s possessed.

25) Oh, dang, Doc is hearing a baby’s cry in the woods. Of course, this is a trigger for him, he’s thinking of Alice, and he’s being lured into the woods.

26) Major Spike vibes in this scene…

27) Hm. Bulshar just tried to strike up a deal with Doc – he’ll give Doc reprieve from the knowledge of his miserable destiny if Doc does his bidding. And Doc was really contemplating accepting. Don’t be weak, Doc. Come on. There has to be a way.

28) So, this fucking corrupt guard suggests they should just off Wynonna and write it off as if Michelle murdered her own daughter when she was trying to escape. And of course, he’s a fucking revenant. It’s definitely going to be interesting to see how Wynonna gets out of this one while handcuffed and without Peacemaker…

I mean, she was fucking tasered and yet…

QUEEN.

29) Nedley, my heart. He’s so heartbroken over this.

NEDLEY: Well, I got a call to a situation at the Earp farm. By the time I got there, the barn was lit up like a torch. You... somehow you escaped. I mean, you were covered with soot, you were crying, but you were unharmed. WAVERLY: And my mother? NEDLEY: She was... locked in your daddy's patrol car. She set the fire. But she was no murderous sociopath. She was Michelle Gibson. Rodeo spitfire. The wild heart and loyal soul of Purgatory. Even the thugs and the dimwits drank to her. With her. They loved her. Look, she wasn't herself that night. She kept... she kept insisting that... that she was trying to vanquish a demon. WAVERLY: A demon she thought was... me. NEDLEY: Well, that would explain The occult nonsense that Ward saw plastered all over the barn before she lit the match. Did you believe it? That was Ward's interpretation. Look, your pop was my boss, so... And I know... I know I should've been braver. I should've defended her. But... I booked Michelle like I was told to. God, this just keeps getting worse. I've been trying to make up for it ever since. I kept watch over you. I tried to set Wynonna on the straight and narrow. That didn't work out. And when I became Sheriff, I pulled the report. I didn't want anyone seeing it.

30) Why would Wynonna let the revenant in on the fact that she got a kid? I mean, wasn’t the whole point of sending Alice away to protect her from the likes of him? I get that she used that bit of information to distract him, and yeah, she did this later…

…but maybe don’t go talking about your child out loud around the enemies?

31) Why is he coughing dirt? Is he going to get gay-buried before he can be allowed to actually gay?

32) Now Waverly is listening to her mom’s tapes with a psychiatrist or therapist or something, and yep, I’m still convinced she was possessed or something and the reason she was trying to stay away from Waverly is because she wanted to protect her. As she was talking to the therapist, she said “Shut up!” or something like that and she was clearly talking to someone else who was not there, like someone who might be in her own head or that only she can see. Someone or something that might be using her to kill her own daughter. The question is, who and why? Is it Bulshar manipulating her the same way he tried to manipulate Doc? Or is it something else altogether? And why is this something or someone so intent on killing Waves? What is she? What kind of role is she supposed to play in the grand scheme of things for this evil entity to want her dead so badly?

33) Okay, theory confirmed, Doc just heard a third, infernal voice on the tape.

34) Oh shit, is history going to repeat itself?!

Yep, there was an actual demon in serious need of a facial and makeover.

35) Bye bye Robin, I guess?

36) Who the fuck is Jolene and why is everyone acting like Stepford Wives? Is this some sort of Ted/Dawn scenario?! And why is it that, in a supernatural show, this is by far the creepiest thing I’ve seen?!

37) So, I’ve got a lot of questions. First of all, I want to know more about the murder trees. How do they come to be? Are they inhabited by serial killers? We saw the face in one of them, and they can actually walk and move around, but why do they bleed? Is it like their victim’s blood? Also, who the fuck is Jolene? I mean, I know she’s probably the demon that showed up in the barn, but what’s her deal? What does she want? I mean, she didn’t kill Waverly, and instead she’s feeding and glamouring the whole group… to do what? Where was Robin taken? Can we please not do the whole bury-your-gays trope? I expect better of this show. Will Doc accept Bulshar’s deal? Please don’t, Doc. And what is Waverly?! That’s the biggest question of all, so I’m guessing the answer will be delayed till the season finale.

That was yet another fun, exciting Wynonna Earp episode, setting up a lot of stuff for the season, I guess. And I want answers!

38) Hope you enjoyed my recap, and, as usual, if you’ve got this far, thank you for reading! If you enjoy my recaps and my blog, please consider supporting it on ko-fi. Thanks!

#Wynonna Earp #Waverly Earp #Nicole Haught #Doc Holliday #Jeremy Chetri #Wynonna Earp 3x04 #WE RECAP #recap #No Cure For Crazy #mine #WE 3x04

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wavesmp3 · 4 years

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i’m so terrible at remembering to do tag games so here i am compiling all the ones i can remember into one post jsbgkakn

i was taggged to do these by @secndlife @queenoats (tecnically on my main but shh) @chocosvt @tidalstorm @oh-my-vocal-unit

and if anyone wants to do any of these you can just say i tagged you

this one i was tagged by karol and choco i think

rules: bold all statements that apply to you

[Appearance]: I’m over 5′5”. I wear glasses/contacts. I have blonde hair. I prefer loose clothing to tight clothing. I have one or more piercings. I have at least one tattoo. I have blue/green eyes. I have dyed or highlighted my hair. I have gotten plastic surgery. I have or had braces. I sunburn easily. I have freckles. I paint my nails. I typically wear makeup. I don’t often smile (well maybe i do actually idk). I am pleased with how I look. I prefer Nike to Adidas. I wear baseball hats backwards.

[Relationship]: I am in a relationship. I have been single for over a year. I may have a crush. I have a best friend I have known for ten years. My parents are together. I have dated my best friend. I am adopted. My crush has confessed to me. I have a long distance relationship. I am an only child. I give advice to my friends. I have made an online friend. I met up with someone I have met online.

[Hobbies/talents]: I play a sport. I can play an instrument. I am artistic. I know more than one language. I have won a trophy in some sort of competition. I can cook or bake without a recipe. I know how to swim. I enjoy writing. I can do origami. I prefer movies to tv shows. I can execute a perfect somersault. I enjoy singing. I could survive in the wild on my own. I have read a new book series this year. I enjoy spending time with friends. I travel during school or work breaks. I can do a handstand.

[Aesthetics]: I have heard the ocean in a conch shell. I have watched the sunrise. I enjoy rainy days. I have slept under the stars. I meditate outside. The sound of chirping calms me. I enjoy the smell of the beach. I know what snow tastes like. I listen to music to fall asleep. I enjoy thunderstorms. I enjoy cloud watching. I have attended a bonfire. I pay close attention to colours. I find mystery in the ocean. I enjoy hiking on nature paths. Autumn is my favourite season. I enjoy gazing into the forest canopy.

[Miscellaneous]: I can fall asleep in a moving vehicle. I am the mom friend. I live by a certain quote. I like the smell of sharpies. I am involved in extracurricular activities. I enjoy Mexican food. I can drive a stick-shift. I believe in true love. I make up scenarios to fall asleep. I sing in the shower. I wish I lived in a video game. I have a canopy above my bed. I am multiracial. I am a redhead. I own at least three dogs. I am most calm in nature.

this one i was taggged by eros

real me vs fantasy me (i had to use a diff template for real me cause i couldn’t figure out how to make that one look like me so yeah also lets ignore the fact that ‘fantasy me’ is just a whole other person,, also i added the mask because i’m so bad at making things look like me, but i feel like the ‘real’ me is relatively accurate)

i was tagged by liz

to list ten songs i really like all by different artists

1. smiling at phone // tobi lou 2. sleeping lessons // the shins 3. can i call you tonight // dayglow 4. affection // between friends 5. violet // peach tree rascals 6. summer // brockhampton 7. dominic’s interlude // dominic fike 8. godspeed // frank ocean 9. maar dala // from the movie Devdas 10. 3005 // childish gambino

i was tagged by eros to do this one

Rules: bold the statements that apply to you, italicize your aspirations, then tag nine people

Air

i have small hands / i love the night sky / i watch small animals and birds when i pass them by / i drink herbal tea / i wake to see dawn / the smell of dust is comforting / i’m valued for being wise / i prefer books to music / i meditate / i find joy in learning new truths from the world around me

Fire

i don’t have straight hair / i like to wear ripped jeans and overalls / i play an organized sport / i love dogs / i am not afraid of adventure / i love to talk to strangers / i always try new foods / i enjoy road trips / summer is my favourite season / my radio is always playing.

Water

i wear bracelets on my wrists / i love the bustle of the city / i have more than one set of piercings / i read poetry / i love the sound of a thunderstorm / i want to travel the world / i sleep *til* midday most days / i love dimly lit diners and fluorescent signs / i rewatch kids’ shows out of nostalgia/ i see emotions in colors not words .

Earth

i wear glasses or contacts / i enjoy doing the laundry / i am a vegetarian or vegan / i have an excellent sense of time / my humor is very cheerful / i am a valued advisor to my friends / i believe in true love / i love the chill of mountain air / i’m always listening to music / i am highly trusted by the people in my life.

Aether

i go without makeup in my daily life / i make my own artwork / i keep on track of my tasks and time / I always know true north / i see beauty in everything / i can always smell flowers / i smile at everyone i pass by / i always fear history repeating itself / i have recovered from a mental disorder / i can love unconditionally.

also tagged by eros for this one, i feel like i might’ve done but i can’t remember so i’ll just do it again

name: shawna height: like really short either 5 ft or a little under, i think that’s like 150ish cm languages: english, malayalam (ish), and spanish (ish) nationality: american favorite season: fall favorite flower: peonies favorite scent: jasmine favorite color: i guess a good purple, either a light lavender or a dark royal purple favorite animal: sloths! favorite fictional character: april ludgate and coffee, tea, or hot chocolate: don’t make me choose dogs or cats: can i say neither :/ average hours of sleep: anywhere between 7-10 hrs no. of blankets i sleep with: just one dream trip: italy! (mainly for the food but shh) blog established: i think a little over two years now followers: one, it’s me random fact: idk i suck at getting to tag games lol

and this one i was tagged by choco probably back in like april or march its been literal months

i think thats all hopefully but i probably missed some cause my notifs stopped letting me scroll down so yeah XD okay i apologize that i’m so crap at remembering to do tag games

#tagged

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wordywarriorwrites · 5 years

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Chapter 10: Behind Enemy Lines

Masterlist: The Boss of Brooklyn A03 Story Link Author: @wordywarriorwrites Summary: When it comes to being The Boss, James Buchanan “JB” Barnes rules with an iron fist. For him, there’s no room for sentiment, and certainly no time for distraction, even if it is in the form of an old flame. Steve Rogers had bowed out of the life a long time ago, but a twist of fate brings him right back into the fold, and face-to-face with a man he once loved. When a game of cat and mouse turns into a matter of life and death, both will be forced to decide whether they’ll be loyal to the business, or faithful to each other. A/N: Bucky Barnes Mob Boss AU. Stucky. For: @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan Star’s Multi-Fandom Follower Celebration with the prompt, “Why did you do it?” & @sherrybaby14 Sherry’s Fall Into You Challenge with the prompt, “Show me. Prove that you can handle me.” Warnings: Language, violence, drug use, alcohol, smoking, explicit sexual content, illegal activities. *Re-blogs are welcome. Plagiarism isn’t. *

There had been too many close calls and Steve knew it was well past time to get out of Brooklyn.

Fury had managed to incite enough fear to scatter the Families, and in less than six months, he’d infiltrated their city and obliterated generations worth of hard work by using a combination of violence and propaganda. He’d essentially given them just enough rope to hang themselves with, and as a result, the Families had lost their authority and credibility, and would soon lose their livelihoods.

Blood had been spilled, and if they didn’t take the fight to Fury, he would continue to push in. If anyone resisted, bodies would continue to drop, and if it went on for much longer, people would either turncoat or tuck tail and run. It didn’t take much to convince Bruce and Natasha that they needed to go on the offensive, but The Boss, per usual, had not been so easily swayed.

Precious time was wasted because Bucky squabbled about everything and nothing. When Natasha pointed out that arguing and delaying would only serve to give Fury even more opportunity to do further damage, Bucky finally conceded, and agreed to get out of dodge for a while.

Once the decision was made, it was only a matter of retrieving their passports and booking a flight. They decided not to tell anyone where they were going, didn’t bother with luggage, replaced their cellphones with burners, and only used cash. It wasn’t until they were in the air and flying over the Atlantic that Steve felt like he could breathe again.

They arrived in Jamaica and got out of the airport without any problems. Since it was the only island in the West Indians Fury had yet to infiltrate, it was the best place to lay low, recuperate, and do some recon. Montego Bay, located on the north coast, was home to a major cruise ship port. As a popular tourist destination, there were plenty of resorts available to hide away in, and the crowds made it easier for them to blend in.

While Bruce, Natasha, and Bucky focused on plans for taking back their city, Steve spent his time healing, and it took weeks for him to start feeling normal again. White-sand beaches; long, unobstructed stretches of ocean views; jerk food; Mento music; the freedom to go where he pleased; not having to look over his shoulder all the time; the kindness of the hotel staff – it all aided in both his mental and physical recovery, and when he felt ready, he set about making contact with the team he used to run with.

It took a few days to get the word out, but with Bruce’s help, he managed to do it without drawing attention or raising suspicion. Steve chose a restaurant on Gloucester Avenue for the meet and the outdoor seating offered just enough privacy and ambient noise to ensure they wouldn’t be overheard. He selected a table that offered a full view of the street, and made sure to sit at the end so nobody could sneak up on him. The scent of pimento wood and authentic, local cuisine wafted through the air, and though he was the first to arrive, he wasn’t alone for long.

Maria Hill, Scott Lang, Carol Danvers, and James Rhodes were an A-list squad of thieves and baddies. They made it appear as if they were meeting up with Steve for dinner, calmly took their seats at the table, and perused the menu. They kept their features schooled, but their furtive glances suggested they were truly shocked to see him, and after the waitress served them their drinks and took their food orders, they immediately started talking.

“Nick said things went sideways in Brooklyn,” Scott voiced after taking a long pull on his beer.

“You pissed off the Families,” Maria stated bluntly over the rim of her wine glass. “Went rogue.”

Carol toyed with the umbrella in her drink, “Your actions got a man killed.”

Rhodey sat back swirled the whiskey in his tumbler, “And your Boss put you down for it.”

Their assertions, however misinformed, were not at all surprising. Fury was cunning and knew how to maneuver and coax people to his way of thinking. If he couldn’t connive, cajole, or get something credible to use as leverage, he resulted to wild accusations and downright lies. People in their line of work were hardwired to look for betrayal in all forms, and expect it to come from any direction, and because Nick was their leader, he was never second-guessed or questioned.

It was difficult for Steve to come to terms with the fact that someone he had worked side-by-side with for four years could so easily turn on him. He knew Nick wasn’t a good man, but then again, Steve himself wasn’t exactly a choirboy, and that probably explained why Fury had hooked and reeled him in so easily. Nick had saved his life. Gave him a job. Helped him and guided him when he was at his most vulnerable and least deserving. Perhaps he’d been naive, or maybe it was just a flaw in his character, but Steve had trusted him.

He believed they’d been friends.

“Steve, what the hell is going on?” Carol prodded. “Why would he tell us you were dead when you’re clearly very much alive?”

Pulled out of his internal self-loathing, Steve just sighed, and shook his head.

“Fury’s good at what he does,” he told them. “He sent me to Brooklyn and it went pear-shaped, but I swear to you, I didn’t sabotage anything. It was all him.”

The declaration made everyone fall silent, and during the moment of quiet retrospection, servers arrived at their table with heaping plates of food. The grub was so good, they didn’t start speaking again until after the dishes were cleared and another round of drinks were delivered.

Maria furrowed her brow and crossed her arms over her chest, “He wanted a foothold in the States. When the Senator fell through, you were his ticket in.”

“Which means he set you up and got you pushed out,” Rhodey said. “And since he doesn’t like to share, he’s decided to take it all.”

“And he hung me out to dry in the process,” Steve finished.

“So, what’s the next move?” Scott wondered.

Steve swallowed hard and ran a hand through his hair, “Fury drew first blood and the Families aren’t going to let it slide. They have the numbers, and no matter the cost, they will fight to the last.”

“Meaning what, exactly?” Carol asked.

“That despite your best efforts, war is coming,” Steve declared gravely. “And whether you like it or not, you’re going to have to pick a side.”

Rhodey held up his hands, “Look, what Fury did to you was bad, but he’s been good to me – to all of us. We did what we could for you, but none of us signed on for a fight.”

Steve sat forward and rested his forearms on the table, “Treaties don’t work unless all parties stick to the arrangement, and Fury has no intention of upholding his end of the bargain. It may not be your fight, but he will sure as hell make it your business.”

“For the sake of argument, let’s say we switched allegiances,” Scott countered. “How can you guarantee your Boss won’t do exactly what Fury did?”

“Yeah, what’s to stop him from taking all we got?” Rhodey inquired.

“Or putting bullets between our eyes?” Maria tacked on.

Their interrogation, ignorance, and constant referral to Bucky as his “Boss” lit his fuse. Unable to stop himself, Steve let out a sound of frustration, and slammed his fist down hard on the table.

“I should’ve better than to think any of you would step up,” he snapped sharply.

In the wake of his outburst, the restaurant fell quiet, and more than a few heads turned in their direction. Hands shaking and heart pounding, Steve apologized loud enough for all to hear, and once it was clear to everyone that a fight wasn’t going to break out, they returned to their meals.

Carol cleared her throat and rubbed her arms, “We trust you. We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t.”

Steve arched an eyebrow, “But?”

“We looked into James Barnes,” Scott confessed. “And we don’t do what he does.”

He snorted, reached into his pocket, and tossed some cash onto the table, “Yeah, you do. You just prefer not to get your hands dirty.”

“We do what we can do avoid conflict,” Rhodey reminded him. “Your Boss doesn’t. In fact, he seems to enjoy mayhem and violence.”

“And I came up with him, so, you think we’re the same,” Steve fumed. “Because deep down, I’m still just a two-bit, gutter-rat thug like the rest of ‘em. So, fuck me, right?”

“Steve, you’re not being fair,” Maria argued.

“No, you want to know what’s not fair?” he snarled lowly as he got to his feet. “It’s not fair that one of my oldest friends is dead. It’s not fair that I keep getting fucked over. It’s not fair that I keep getting stabbed in the fucking back. It’s not fair that I’m being left to shovel the shit that every, goddamn one of you has dumped on me.”

Scott stood up, “Steve, come on, man. Let’s just talk about this.”

Without another word or backward glance, Steve stepped away from the table, and onto the street. Even though he could hear Maria and Carol call after him, he ignored them, and pushed onward. His rage carried him all the way out of the downtown area and back to the hotel, and as soon as the room’s door shut behind him, Steve reached for the chair tucked under the desk, lifted it above his head, and slammed it down as hard as he could onto the floor.

The stream of expletives that flew out of his mouth was punctuated by the sound of snapping wood. The little chair didn’t stand much of a chance; it was pulverized in seconds, which prompted him to drop what remained, and send his fist sailing through the drywall. Steve was gearing up for another swing when the sliding door that connected to the private patio slid open.

“I take it your meeting didn’t go well?” Bucky taunted as he stepped inside.

Steve flipped him the bird, but said nothing.

“Well, as entertaining as your tantrum was to watch, you had better not continue,” he ordered. “If you do, someone will call security, and we don’t need that right now.”

“Thanks for the lecture,” he gritted out as he moved into the bathroom. “Now, fuck off.”

Steve waited until he heard the patio door shut before he stepped up to the sink. He cranked the water too hot, and the sting of it as it ran along his raw knuckles hurt like hell. When he glanced into the mirror, the reflection that stared back at him was all too familiar. Flushed face and hard-lined mouth; eyes full of something that bordered on madness; a wildness and furor that hadn’t been let loose since he was a too-angry, closeted, punk-ass kid.

It was this face – these feelings – that he’d been running from for so long. Steve had been on everyone’s side but his own and he was sick of it. Sick of the constant, nagging fear. Sick of being taken for a fool. Sick of the blame always being left at his feet. Sick of the orders, the lies, and the whole god-damn circus his life had turned into.

Disgusted with himself, he turned off the water, and dried his hands. He had every intention of packing what little he had and making a run for it, but when he stepped into the room, Bucky had returned, and that brought him up short.

Curtains drawn. Shoes lined up neatly by the dresser.

Box of condoms and a bottle of lube on the nightstand.

“Take off your clothes,” Bucky commanded lowly. “And get on the bed.”

Chapter 11: Strange Bedfellows

Everything: @jennmurawski13 @nerdy-bookworm-1998

Steve Rogers: @patzammit @hearttoearth The Boss of Brooklyn: @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @captain-rogers-beard

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my-whumpy-little-heart · 5 years

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Cracks. (Defective Series 3)

In a request from @burtlederp for my @badthingshappenbingo card, this will be based off of the trope: Lifted by the Neck. (Requested squares are white hearts, completed squares are red hearts. If you want to request any, send an ask with the trope and (optionally) a character of mine to fill it with.)

The previous entry in this series is here.

Tagging @castielamigos-whump-side-blog as well, who wanted to see another continuation of this :) Since this will probably be an ongoing series now, anyone can ask to be on a tag list or taken off.

One final announcement! These characters now have names since I’ll be continuing the series. The sister (previously X) is Elle Valencia, and the brother (previously Y) is Jirard Valencia. As for the box boy’s name… well, you’ll just have to read a little further.

By the end of his first training session, the boy had passed out. Jirard figured he pushed it a little too far when it almost lost its voice from screaming near the end, but he had reached his goal. Whether by obedience, delirium, or weakness, his boy had stopped pulling away altogether by the fourth cauterized knife wound. Elle had gotten a little bored when she realized she wouldn’t get to shock him any further, but he promised he’d make it up to her. So, a few days later, he invited her back over.

“What’re you doing, Jirard?” Speaking of his sister, she must have let herself in. He closed the book in his hands and looked over.

“Just writing in my journal,” he shrugged, setting it aside and standing up.

“Journal, eh? Didn’t know you kept one.”

“I do now: started the other day after you left, actually. It’s mostly to write about the boy and observe his progress. Whumpee Barn is getting a strongly worded letter on the importance of quality control when I find the patience to write it, and I’ll need to remember details. Thus, journal,” he gestured to the book once more before starting down the stairs, waving Elle after him. “Plus, I can’t lie; it’ll be nice to have a window down memory lane when it’s finally properly trained.”

“Speaking of it, did you think of a name yet? Might be easier to train commands into if it has something to respond to.”

“No, I haven’t actually, but you’re right about that. The instructions I read through mentioned names too. You have anything good in mind?” Jirard stopped at the landing of the stairs, leaning against the basement door just opposite them.

“Personally, I thought it’d be funny to name it something strong sounding. Maybe like Maximus or Orion. More satisfying to talk down to it, then.” Elle smiled, and her brother paused with a contemplative look on his face. A few seconds later, he looked back up with a grin.

“I like your style, Elle... You sure you’ve never owned one of these bad boys?”

“Just got good taste in friends, I guess. I pick up a few things being around them and their pets enough.” she laughed, walking down to the basement when Jirard finally opened the door.

“Yeah, isn’t one of them some hotshot blogger now or something? The one with the wild green hair?” He made some awkward gestures trying to describe them, and Elle snorted at her brother’s ignorance.

“Oh my god, you turn thirty and suddenly you’re completely out of touch. You’re literally only five years older than me, you dolt; you should know they’re a YouTuber. We should totally watch some of their videos later if we get time. You’d like them; they’ve got flair.”

“Ugh, whatever you say. Those videos do sound like they might be fun though,” he said as they finally reached the boy’s room. “Getting down to business, the boy hasn’t been too active since you were last here, though I’ve really only gone in there to feed it. Thought it should have some time alone in the dark to really think about what’s important, you know?”

His sister took that as a rhetorical question and stayed quiet when Jirard opened the door. He flicked on the light to illuminate the room, and his own face lit up when a groan came from inside. In the corner, he spied the boy curled into itself, squinting against the light assaulting its vision.

“Oh, so you are awake this time! Honestly thought I might have broken you for a bit there. Well, broken you more anyway. You’re already aware of your manufacturing defects.” Jirard walked across the room to sweep a hand across its cheek and down its bare neck which still bore marks from the shock collar. It made sure not to flinch away from the touch. In fact, it almost seemed to lean into it, as both he and the boy realized.

“...I almost want to take that back. Seems like your training did pay off a little after all, huh?” It nodded its head slightly at that, almost akin to bowing it down in shame. Its face remained set in a grimace. “Hey, that’s not a bad thing. You’re just fulfilling your purpose as a product; nothing wrong with that. Oh, speaking of! The manual didn’t give me anything to call you, so I’m just gonna have to name you. What do you think about Maverick?”

The grimace set in deeper as it frowned disapprovingly.

“I, personally, think it’s a lovely name. Suits it well.” Elle butted in with a sparkling smile.

“It’s decided then. You’re my little Maverick, and you’re going to respond whether I call you Maverick, Mav, or any matter of pet names. Got it?” The nod he got in response was short and clipped this time, but it was an agreement. It was beginning to learn what he wanted. “Great. Elle, you can take it. I trust it knows its place by now and won’t try anything, but here’s the obligatory warning just in case, Mav. Don’t go getting your priorities switched up now.”

Jirard turned around before it could respond and his sister walked over instead, grabbing it by the back of its neck and pulling forward. It got up on unsteady legs, trying its best to keep up with the quick pace already being set as it was dragged along. Maverick was almost choking around the strong hand, but its cramping legs had trouble keeping up and staying stable. If it didn’t trip on its own, some strand of the long, plush carpet threads would catch on its toes anyway and send it stumbling behind only to be yanked forward again.

And god if that grip didn’t already hurt. That shock collar had left scarring that Elle’s rough hand now rubbed painfully against with every movement. Up the staircase, she stayed one step above it, moving opposite it and pulling up hard on multiple occasions.

At the top of the steps, Mav finally got a full scope of the house. There was a large, luxurious entrance, lit by a glittering crystal chandelier and framed by a curving wooden staircase. It couldn’t see the scope from just one room, but this house could easily be an entire mansion. No doubt it was fit with a high end security system that would lock all the doors and windows at the tap of a finger, leaving no way to escape…

“Maverick,” Jirard’s call lingered in the air for a few seconds before it remembered that was supposed to be its name, and lifted its head. “Did they at least teach you how to complete basic chores where you were trained?”

It gave a curt nod, eyes still wandering the open space. Fingers snapping in front of the boy’s face brought its attention back to the situation at hand, and looked back at Elle, whose fingers had just retreated from its face. She shook her head and pointed back in front of them, to her brother who was staring with a less than pleased expression.

“I may as well address this now rather than later, Mav. I’d love it if you could give some verbal responses every now and then. You know, so I don’t have to constantly stare at you to have a conversation. Not to say I didn’t wish I could stare at you all the time, of course.”

“...okay, then.” A hint of sass shone through the words.

“So how would you answer my previous question…?” he asked expectantly, leading it on.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?” The boy only stared blankly with a carefully guarded expression, lip twitching. “...Oh, come on, I’m sure they gave you a few ideas of what to call your owner back where you came from. Sir, Master, Mr. Valencia… take your pick. Honestly, I’m really not all that picky as long as you can show me some basic respect.”

His boy seemed to have frozen halfway through the statement, eyes blown wide and somehow clearer than they had been in days. It trembled in an unnatural way, which would have been interesting to him had it been in fear and not what looked to be pent up rage. He made eye contact with Elle over it and she only tightened her fingers on its throat, adding her other hand for extra security.

Only Jirard saw when it broke, something greater than itself taking control of its body, and signaled a warning to his sister just seconds before Maverick reared up against the restraining hands, teeth bared and snarling.

“Valencia, VALENCIA! I knew you were familiar. Damn it, it’s you- it’s fucking YOU! You’re the asshat from up the street who would never stop harassing my mom before she- she-! And of course you’re enough of a sick BASTARD to treat a fucking human being as a pet! Fuck you! Fuck-” Its words were cut off by its head slamming into the wall, and feet leaving the floor, hands curling further around its neck, cutting in and taking his breath until it could only wheeze through sobs and tears that spilled down its cheeks. Its expression only dropped further at the realization of what it had just done--what it had just said!--and the surely looming consequences he couldn’t even dream of.

“That’s. Enough.” Elle hissed as her hands closed over its throat, and it could only gasp fruitlessly and scramble for footing as Jirard stepped closer, expression unreadable.

“Let off a bit, Elle.” He stalked forward, talking slowly to his boy now as if addressing a toddler, “I think we need to have a short discussion before I beat you senseless for what you just did, don’t we Mav?”

“Th-tha’s not- nah-” it sniveled and cried as it spoke, knowing any more of its defiance would only make things worse, but some spirit had awoken inside that it couldn’t push down.

“Are you trying to tell me Maverick isn’t your real name?” A brief moment passed, as if he was expecting a response. “Okay, sure, I’ll indulge you,” Jirard remembered the manual advising strictly against speaking over a boy’s past, but he figured it already broke that boundary for him, “What is your ‘real’ name then?”

The boy froze at that, looking ahead with empty eyes. Its lips trembled and breath hitched around Elle’s hands, but it was still silent. He resisted the urge to smile at his risk having paid off. With specific memories so fresh in its head, Maverick would need more of an overhaul than he had planned for, but it would certainly be interesting to try out.

“Oh, can you not remember? Are you sure you really ever had one in the first place? Because from what I remember, you never had a proper name until today. Anything that came before must certainly have been miserable--something you’d never want to remember, of course--for you to sign up for a program like this.” The words came sweet from his lips, but his boy was having none of it with what those memories had instilled in him. It muttered things about how it didn’t agree to this, how it had people down the street that cared about it, and it only saw Jirard’s raised fist right before it smashed across its cheek.

The hands on its neck held Maverick in place as its face snapped to the side, a wretched, choked moan escaping its mouth. Elle eyed her brother, but he nodded in a motion for her to keep holding it. Punches came in strong to its head, hitting anywhere that wouldn’t make it immediately pass out, and pained noises became shouts that rang and echoed in the open space. Elle counted seven before he finally brought his fists down, and the body under her hands groaned deliriously.

“Very elegant. Beating it senseless, you said?” She smiled, letting it drop to the ground, barely clinging to consciousness.

“You see it having any senses right now? It should have a few concussions by now, at least. Figure that’s the easiest way to mess with its head.”

“Well, it’s not gonna take to anything you tell it right now. Gonna need, I don’t know, at least an hour if I had to estimate.” She nudged the boy with her foot, and it leaned faintly into it in its half-conscious state. Maybe the training the other day had caused that, but she wouldn’t place bets on it with this one. “...maybe two, actually.”

“Is that enough time to watch one of those videos you were talking about earlier?” Jirard’s voice rose in a hopeful tone, and Elle smiled back.

“Oh, definitely a few at least!”

She grabbed Maverick’s arms while her brother took the feet and they dragged it to the living room with his flatscreen TV, abandoning it on the floor in favor of sitting up on the couch.

“Okay, so we should definitely start with one of the earlier videos,” Elle scrolled through the channel on her phone which was streaming to the TV, “would you rather the collar haul or the prank video?”

“Ooh, the prank sounds fun…”

Videos played on the screen for hours as Maverick lay on the floor, disoriented by its throbbing head and swirling vision, unable and unwilling to force its confused body to move, and hearing only the muffled sounds of audio and the piercing, too loud laughter of its owner and his sister. In the back of its head, memories of defiance and punishment danced like a curse, and it just wished it could think clearly enough to remember what it was trying so hard to defend.

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xsixxx · 5 years

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Bad Influence, Chapter Six

Authors note: Ok so I really struggled with this chapter, hence my major delay, but thank you for bearing with me! 🙏🏼 So this is a super long one (for me) & I’ve just finished writing this at 5am after staying up all night, so I’m sorry for any mistakes etc. Also this is my first time writing a sex scene & I’m so super nervous & awkward about it, so please go easy on me 😂 Feedback is always welcome 🖤

Warnings: A bit angsty & some major smutttt but not the smut you want, that’s coming later (pun intended)

Tags: @triplehaitches @freddiessmallnipples @queen-crue @scarecrowmax @lovesick-heart0 @littlesunnymoon @80sheart-strings @cranberribread @inthebackofmycarlaytheirbodies @deaconsroger @zoenicoles @crazysaladchopshop @ggorehorror @lunamadhatter99 @justtryingtoovercome @chaoticvybe @you-know-im-a-dreamer @eightiesrockbaby @valentines-in-london @xrosegoldwolfx @sukimousepaw @lilypetite88 @this-blog-must-be-the-place

(Couldn’t find a suitable gif, so here’s one of the two stars of this chapter)

((I wanted a gif of that scene in the dirt when Vince is fucking that chick in the dressing room right before his gf takes back his leather pants but I couldn’t find one 😭😂))

Spring ‘83

I checked my make up in the mirror for the 10th time in as any minutes, pouting my lips & fluffing up my platinum blonde hair.

“Fuck Beth, you’d think Gene Simmons himself was coming back from this tour the way you’re dolling yourself up.”

I scowled at Sophias reflection in the mirror, her irritation evident as she stood in the doorway with one hand on her leather-clad hip, drumming her fingers impatiently. “Ew, no. Gene Simmons, what is wrong with you?!” I laughed.

“Really, you don’t see it?” She puzzled, furrowing her brow with an amused look on her face. “The make up always kinda did it for me..” She trailed off, giggling to herself before snapping out of her momentary daydream. “Anyway, can you just hurry your ass up, we’re gonna be late for work & Paul is already on our case!” She finished, referring to our boss.

“He caught us drinking with the guys once on shift, he’s hardly on our case.” I shrugged nonchalantly.

“Yeah, but he’s heard they’re coming back & he’s already on edge about the whole thing, he knows how they get & he’s planning on amping up security to keep them in check. I mean, they have just been kicked off of a tour with Kiss for bad behaviour, for Christs sake!” I rolled my eyes at her, always the sensible one nowadays. Sophia was right, of course. Mötley Crüe had become infamous on the Sunset Strip. They’d drink, fight & fuck, usually in that order, anything in sight & they showed no signs of stopping. The band was on their way up & people knew it, so everywhere they went, trouble, & girls, followed. And tonight, they were on their way back to the Whisky.

“How do I look, honestly?!” I asked nervously, turning to Sophia & gesturing at my outfit, smoothing out my high waisted acid wash mini skirt & fiddling with the collar of my leather jacket awkwardly.

“Well, if Vince doesn’t fuck ya, I will.” She winked, laughing. I smiled weakly before blowing her a kiss & turning back to check myself over once more, messing with my hair & trying to pretend I couldn’t feel the butterflies fluttering around in my stomach.

“Babe,” Sophia started gently, frowning “why are you stressing so much? It’s not like this is anything new.”

“I don’t know, it’s been like a month since I last saw him & he’s probably slept with god knows how many girls on the tour & I-”

“Beth, they played like 5 shows, how much damage could they do, really?!” I looked at her with raised eyebrows, laughing with amused disbelief at her naivety. Did she know them at all?

She caught sight of my face. “Ok, ok, you’re right, carry on.”

“Look, I know there’s nothing serious between us & I’m fine with that, honestly, I am. But I just don’t want to look like another groupie to him.. I - I just wanna look good, ok?” I rambled, realising I was sounding way more defensive than I was intending.

Sophia sensed my nerves. “Well, you make one fine ass groupie, Vince won’t be able to resist you.” She said playfully, before pausing, a slow smile appearing across her plump, pink lips. “& neither will Nikki.” She added smugly, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

I let out a high pitched, fake laugh at yet another one of her goddamn Nikki jokes. “You’re so fucking funny.” I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes. “When are you going to let that go?!”

She shrugged. “When you guys do us all a favour & fuck so we don’t have to be around your obvious sexual tension.”

“Soph, I hate the guy, he’s an rude, arrogant narcissist & I’ve got more sexual tension going on with Mick than I do with that asshole!”

“Hey now, don’t drag poor Mick into your fucked up Nikki fantasy!” Sophia chortled. “You can deny it all you like babe, but I’m your best friend & I know you, you love to hate that guy because secretly, except not really secretly, you wanna screw his narcissistic brains out.” She finished, grinning widely at her fabricated conclusion.

I scowled at her once again, tired of hearing these assumptions constantly over the last few months. “God, can we just stop with this now please?!” I begged, turning back to the mirror, stressing more than before. “Maybe I should go change..”

“No!” Sophia said quickly, grabbing my hand & pulling me towards the front door. “You look great, Nikki is gonna love it- I mean Vince.. Whichever one it is you’re trying to impress. Now can we please just go?” She begged, exasperated eyes looking pleadingly at me.

I sighed & followed her out, the anticipation of the night ahead lingering in the air as I shut the door behind me.

*Later, at Whisky A-Go-Go*

I took a long drag on my cigerette & exhaled the smoke into the brisk, refreshing breeze that swept through the night sky. I savoured the moment, knowing that, in a few minutes, whatever band was playing tonight would finish their set & the crowd would surge back to the bar, impatiently demanding their drinks & trying by any means to gain my attention, whether it be just to order or try to, usually unsuccessfully, hit on me.

The back door swung open as Sophia stepped out, armed with trash bags, distracting me from my moment of peace.

“What are you doing out here?” She asked, spotting me hiding on the other side of the dumpster. I waved the lit cigetette clutched between my fingers wordlessly in response. She frowned. “You don’t smoke.”

“Well I always end up smoking with the boys & I just figured I’d use it as an excuse to get some peace before the rush kicks off.” I shrugged, ignoring her obvious disapproval. Sophia had perfected her judgmental stare over the past 6 months, every time she saw me sniff a line of coke or come home tipsy. It’s not like she didn’t partake, in fact, she was almost as wild as Mötley were, keeping Tommy on his toes. But Soph couldn’t help but look at me the way I knew most people that knew me did; like I was some fragile, innocent being that needed protecting. I’m the good one, the well behaved child, the straight A student, the protective big sister, the motherless daughter with the overbearing father. I’ve spent my life being exactly what everyone expected of me. The boys were the only people that didn’t make me feel that way &, for a night every week or so, when I got to party with them, it was fun not being who everyone thought I should be & just being whoever I wanted to be for the night.

“It’s a shit habit to have,” Soph mumbled, pulling out a cigerette from her almost empty packet, placing it between her lips & lighting it. “You’re better off without it babe. Quit whilst you’re ahead & all that.”

“Thanks for advice, mom,” I responded, rolling my eyes as I took another drag.

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask, have you finished that paper for Dr Andersons psych class yet?” Asked Sophia, suddenly changing the subject.

“Erm.. You want the truth or..?” I grimaced, knowing I hadn’t even started my essay on the theory of human motivation.

“Beth, girl, come on!” Sophia whined, sounding irritated. “You know if you ask Anderson for another extension, she’s gonna loose her shit with you! You gotta stop slacking..”

I shot her a warning look. “I am not slacking”, I said cuttingly, offended by her words. I’d never been accused of not trying hard enough in my life & I didn’t like it.

Soph looked a little sheepish. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, I know how hard you work. It’s just this is the second paper in a row you haven’t prepared for & you’re usual so on it, I’d just hate to see you fall behind because of..” She trailed off.

“Because I’m fucking a Vince?” I spat, suddenly angry.

“No, Beth. Come on, you’re twisting my words now. You know I’m all for you having fun, especially after how everything was for you at home, I don’t blame you for rebelling a bit. But I’m also just looking out for you, you just need to find a balance is all.” Sophia looked embarrassed, obviously regretting her change of subject. I glared at her, watching her chew her lip awkwardly, avoiding my stare. The rational part of me knew she was only trying to be a good friend, but the defensive side to me felt she was trying to shield me from having any fun, treating me like that fragile girl once again & it immediately brought out my inner hostility.

I flicked my cigerette across the alley & stormed past Sophia, catching her shoulder as I did. She whipped round to me, eyes ablaze with shock & anger.

“Excuse me, you did not just shoulder barge me!” She yelled, stunned.

“Why cant you just mind your own goddamn business?!” I screamed back, throwing my hands up in the air with exaggerated exasperation. “You’re supposed to be my best friend, you know everything I’ve been through better than anyone. I’m just trying to enjoy myself, do all the dumb shit I never got to do when I was 18. Why are you treating me like a damn kid?!” I could hear myself arguing like a teenager who’s parents wouldn’t let them out, but I couldn’t help it, I was belligerent.

“Maybe stop acting like a damn kid & people wont treat you like one!” She fired back.

“Fuck this.” I snapped, barging through the door & back into the hot, sticky air of the Whisky. I marched back behind the bar just as the band were playing their last few chords & grabbed a bottle of jack. I quickly poured a shot & necked it, seconds before Paul rounded the corner.

“Where’s the other one?” He asked, rudely.

“I’m here.” Sophia mumbled, rushing back, just as the crowd began shifting its way from the stage to the bar.

“Right, back to work, no more fucking breaks.” Paul spat, pointing at us both before disappearing off to his office, as per usual whenever the bar got busy. I stuck my middle finger up at him as he walked away, directing my anger at him. I heard a chuckle & turned around to see a familiar, dark figure in the sea of gig-goers, his eyes lost behind a mass of black hair, yet somehow I could still feel them trailing along the contours of my body. His lips were curled into his usual, heart-stopping smirk & I found myself catching my breath when I caught sight of him.

“Someone’s in a good mood, I see.”

“Not now Sixx, for fuck sake.” I muttered, taking an order & pouring the drink.

“Have you missed me, Angel?” He asked, flashing me a wicked smile, draping himself over the bar to get a better look at me. I ignored him, tending to customers & refusing to make eye contact. “I’ll take that as a no.” He chuckled, darkly.

“Nikki, I really haven’t got time & I’m not in the mood for your games.” I said sharply, finally looking into his dark, green eyes. My stomach knotted as his gaze burnt through me, reigniting that flame that only he could seem to light. And he knew it.

“What’s wrong, Princess?” He drawled, lazily.

“Can’t you see how fucking busy we are?! I haven’t got time for you!” I snapped at him, dropping a tumbler in my frustration, sending glass scattering in all directions. “Fucking great.” I growled, crouching down to clean it up, my impatience & anger growing more & more by the second, only made worse by Nikki, who was now smiling smugly at me from over the bar. “Unless you’re going to be any help to me, I suggest you leave.” I yelled at him, standing up & charging over to the bin with a dustpan full of broken glass. I took a deep breath as I emptied it, attempting to regain my composure. I turned back & immediately cussed under my breath. Nikki had hopped over the bar & was now talking to customers.

“What are you doing?!” I hissed as I marched back over to him.

“I’m helping you, like you wanted,” he shrugged, an aura of smugness about him, as he took orders.

“What I wanted was for you to go away!”

“See, I don’t think you want that at all.” He responded, sliding past me, his hand brushing against my lower back as we moved around the limited space behind the bar. “I think you’ll take any excuse to be near me.” He whispered in my ear as we crossed paths once again, his hands gripping my hips this time as he navigated past me. Me body reacted to his touch, my heart thrumming as I felt unwanted excitement flood my veins. I snapped to attention, determined not to let him get to me again.

“Well, if you’ve got it all covered here, you wont mind if I take a quick bathroom break, right?” It was my turn to smirk as I walked from behind the bar, seeing his face fall as I turned & sauntered away from him, letting my hips sway a little more than usual as I felt his eyes drop to my ass, as they always did.

I strode into the bathroom stall, locking it behind me, & rested my head on the cool, metal door, breathing sharply. Nikki had a talent for pissing me off & frustrating me in ways I couldn’t explain & tonight was not a good night for it. Between him, Sophia & Paul, I was wound up past the point of no return & the next person that crossed me was going to feel the full force of my pent up rage.

I was working on slowing my breathing when I heard the door to the bathroom open & shut. Within seconds, my head started vibrating as someone rattled the door to the bathroom stall violently, trying to get in.

“Occupied!” I yelled, my voice oozing irritation.

It shook once again, whoever it was clearly not giving up. I took a step back from the door, anger flooding to every inch of my body as my hand flew towards the lock & I wrenched it open. I was ready to hurl cathartic insult after insult at the poor, unsuspecting person that was to be the subject of my blind fury, when a skinny blonde fucker stopped me in my tracks.

Vince stood in the door way of the stall, leaning casually, his tousled blonde hair framing his chilsed face perfectly. He had on brilliant white jeans with rips at the knees & a distressed denim jacket with nothing on underneath & plastered on his face was the biggest, goddamn sexiest grin that immediately calmed my rage & sent my heart racing.

“You having a bad night doll?” He asked, doing his best to feign concern, the corners of his mouth twitching as he tried to hide his smirk. I took a second to drink him in, savouring the sight of him before I grabbed the collar of his denim jacket & pulled him roughly into the cubical with me, knowing exactly how I was going to satiate my temper. I slammed the door shut behind me & turned around to face Vince, pushing him down into a seated position on the closed lid of the toilet. His smirk was from ear to ear by now & there was a hunger in his eyes I wanted to satisfy so damn much. I straddled my legs either side of his, hiking up my denim skirt that was restricting my movement, exposing my strategically chosen lace black underwear. I sat down on his lap & pressed my mouth lightly against his, running my tongue across his plump, lower lip, tasting the remanence of whisky left there, a flavour I’d grown to love. I trailed my lips across his jawline, placing kisses as I went, until my teeth found their way to Vince earlobe, grazing their way along it as subtly began grinding my hips into his lap. He let out a soft, intoxicating groan that made me weak. I craved him.

Vinces fingers had wound their way into my hair & he grabbed a fistful, firmly pulling my head back, exposing my neck to him. I felt his smirk caress my skin as his nipped & sucked his way down my throat, leaving his mark as he went, before running his tongue back up, sending lustful shivers running down my spine. He brushed his lips across my chest as his hands left my hair, gliding their way down the contours of my body & under my shirt, roughly pulling it up & over my head. I felt him grow harder underneath me as he cupped my breasts in his hands, his tongue lightly flicking & caressing my nipples before he gently grazed his teeth along one, causing an involuntary moan to slip out of my parted mouth. I bit down on my lip, desperate to keep quiet, but Vince has other plans. He widened his legs, forcing mine open at the same time & slipped his hand between my thighs. He groaned as he felt my wetness through my lace panties & ran his finger teasingly back & fourth along the damp patch, causing me to squirm.

“Keep quiet for me now, Princess.” Vince teased, raising his eyebrows & smirking as he pushed my underwear to one side & slowly he eased one finger inside me, causing my to stifle a gasp of pleasure. His thumb brushed lazily over my clit, teasing me, driving me crazy with desire. My eyes closed & my head tilted back as he pushed another finger inside, moving them rhythmically at just the right speed to leave me wanting more. I bit down harder on my lip, trying my best to keep a moan from escaping as Vinces speed picked up. I rocked my hips back & forth against his fingers, pushing my lips roughly onto his to keep quiet, moaning into his mouth instead as he tasted my urgency.

Vince pulled my hair back once again, denying me of his lips. There was a look of arrogance dancing in his eyes as that he kept them fixed on mine, watching me intently as he brought me closer to the edge. I held my lower lip firmly between my teeth as his fingers moved faster & his thumb circled my clit in perfect harmony the way he knew drove me crazy, bringing me ever closer to the release I so badly needed.

“Let me see you cum baby.” He demanded, his eyes not leaving mine once, a sly smirk on his irresistible face. His words were all I needed as I reached the edge & came around his fingers.

“Fuck, Vinny, yes!” I yelled breathlessly, not caring who heard me. I felt the waves of pleasure crash around me as Vinces fingers carried on, pushing me to my absolute limits until I couldn’t give anymore & I grabbed his hand to stop him. He gave me a sly, proud smirk as he looked at my exhausted, content expression.

Christ, I needed that.

But Vince wasn’t done with me yet.

He slowly slid his fingers out from my wetness & brought them up to his lips, sucking on them sensually, making my still throbbing pussy tense in excitement.

“You taste so fucking good.” Vince smirked, watching me squirm with lust once again. I felt his rock hard cock constrained in his tight jeans & I rocked my hips into him once again. His smile widened & suddenly his hands were under my ass, picking me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist & buried my hands into his blonde hair, grabbing it & pulling his mouth on to mine. Within seconds, we were out of the cubical & Vince sat me on the basin countertop without a thought as to who might walk in. We didn’t care.

“I want you inside me.” I moaned, hastily undoing his jeans with intense urgency & pulling him towards me. I found my way to Vinces cock & he let out a low groan as I wrapped my hand around it, slowly stroking him up & down.

“I’ve fucking missed you.” He growled. It was my turn to smirk.

Vince pulled away, expertly rolling on a condom with ease, before pulling me panties to one side once again. He rubbed my wetness, as I grabbed his rock hard dick & guided it towards me, using it to tease my entrance, a cocky smile playing on my lips as I watched Vinces eyes grow dark with desire & impatience. His lip parted to complain, but I silenced him by swiftly easing him inside me. We both moaned simultaneously as he pushed all the way in, stretching me out.

Vince groaned as he began thrusting slowly, finding his rhythm. “I forgot how tight your perfect little pussy is.”

I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper in to me as he picked up speed, his hips bouncing against mine. “Oh Vinny,” I moaned, raking my nails across his back, leaving my mark on his skin to repay him for the bruises on my neck. The pain caused his pace to quicken, as his hunger for me intensified. He grabbed my one leg & lifted it over his shoulder, giving himself a better angle to fuck me deeper, harder.

I felt the pleasure building once again with each stroke, bringing me closer to orgasm. “Don’t stop.” I panted, digging my nails into his hips. Vince groaned loudly as I started playing with my clit, the hedonism getting too much for us both to withstand. I threw my head back & bit my lips to suppress my moans as best I could as the waves of pleasure started reaching their crescendo.

Vinces strokes became delectably slow & purposeful, each one deeper than the last as we both began our decent into sweet release. Vince gave one last thrust that sent us both over the edge & I came around his cock as he came inside me, his forehead pressed against mine as our duel moans of pleasure filled the bathroom. The perfect harmony.

*Nikkis POV*

How fucking long does it take to have a piss?! I thought angrily, as I pushed open the door to the bathroom, Sophias not-so-polite request that I get “the fuck from behind the bar & go & find Beth” still ringing in my ears.

I heard them before I saw them, but my brain didn’t comprehend what I was hearing until my eyes fell on her.

Beth was sat on the countertop, one leg draped over my frontmans shoulder, the other wrapped around his waist as Vince stood with his back to me. Her fingers were gripping his hair like she was holding on for dear life, her head was titled back in the throws of passion & her face.. Her face was that of an angel, as it always was, but twisted & distorted with sin as I watched her cum before me. Her glossy pink lips were parted as sounds that I wished I was causing left her pretty little mouth. Her forehead was glistening with a light film of sweat, her eyebrows were furrowed & her eyes were clenched shut as she indulged in her release that I so badly wanted to feel.

It was heaven to watch her.

And hell to know that she wasn’t coming for me.

I felt intense, unwarranted jealousy descend over me as I watched the girl that I disliked with such ferocity, but still so badly wanted to demoralise get fucked by one of my best friends. I wanted to feel her nails in my skin as I wrapped my hand around her pretty neck. I wanted to see those big, innocent, doe-like eyes look up at me pleadingly as I brought her close to orgasm, only to stop, making her beg for me to touch her. I wanted to taste her delectable pussy & feel her cum against my tongue, her sweet voice calling out my name as I sucked her clit. God, how I fucking wanted her.

Beths eyes fluttered open & immediately fell on mine, causing me to snap out of my fantasy. I adjusted myself quickly, hoping she wouldn’t see the semi I had rubbing against my tight leather pants.

She seemed shocked & embarrassed to see me standing there in the doorway, yet still somehow she managed to look smug. Guilty, yet satisfied. She shot me a shit eating grin before she kissed Vince, her eyes fixated on mine as she did so.

I let out a loud, purposeful cough that caused Vinny to jump & instinctively pull away from Beth. He looked in my direction & visibly relaxed, shooting me a typically sly Vince Neil smile.

“Oh it’s just you Sixx,” he laughed, buttoning up his jeans as Beth climbed down from the worksurface with as much modesty as possible, adjusting her skirt as she did.

I ignored Vince, my face like stone as I kept my eyes on Beth. “Sophia is looking for you.” I said bluntly.

“Shit yeah, I need to get back.” She said quickly, turning to wink at Vince & give him a peck on the lips. “You have no fucking idea how much I needed that,” I heard her mumble seductively. Vince grinned.

“Anytime Princess.” He drawled. I could’ve punched his arrogant fucking face.

Beth stalked towards me, holding her head high & proud as she pushed past. Vince looked like he was about to say something, but I didn’t stick around to hear what it was. Against my better judgement, I followed Beth, my anger brewing.

“Have fun?!” I snapped at her, letting my frustration show without meaning to.

“Loads.” Beth smiled simply, looking me dead in the eye without hesitation. I felt my anger bubble closer to the surface.

“You know, I’m surprised he hasn’t gotten bored of you yet.” I shot nastily, wanting to rile her up. “Groupies never last long with Vince. You should’ve seen all the sluts her got with on the tour.” I let out a sharp, short laugh, convinced I’d strike a nerve.

“Huh, weird, isn’t it?” She shrugged. “That he always comes back to me. I must do something for him that the other girls don’t.” Her voice dripped with confidence as she walked behind the bar & back to work. “I wonder what it is I have that they don’t..” she finished.

Beth knew exactly what she was doing, she’d known me long enough now to figure out how to push my buttons & her new found arrogance was doing just that. But she wore it well.

I grabbed her arm as she walked past & pulled her in close, my anger & my desire at war inside of me. My lips found Beths & I brushed them against hers in the way that I knew drove her crazy, even if she’d never admit it.

“He’ll never satisfy you like I would, Angel.” I whispered.

Beth swallowed, her confidence visibly shaken & I smiled as I watched her eyes glisten with involuntary desire. I knew she couldn’t resist. “& h-how do you know that?” She stuttered, trying to regain her self-assured composure.

“Because he doesn’t know you like I do.” I mumbled, letting my lips graze hers as I spoke. “I see past your good girl, innocent act. I’ve said it before & I’ll say it again, there’s a little bit of devil in your angel eyes. You don’t want just sex, you want to be fucked, you want to know what it’s like to loose all self control, to be with someone that’ll fulfil your darkest desires, who will indulge your every fantasy. I can please you in ways you couldn’t even begin to imagine, Lizzy. I want to bring out the bad in you.” I finished, my eyes burning into hers with intense, desperate craving that I knew she felt too. She looked at me, her eyes almost fearful, but I could see the seductive intrigue lying just beyond that fear & I knew I was right about her. “So, what do you say?”

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canyouhearthelight · 5 years

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The Miys, Ch. 50

The past week has been an abominably wild ride. I’m in the U.S, and we have had entirely too many shooting recently. Add to that the fact that our election season is starting to ramp up, and the vitriol is spewing at work. I’m a very opinionated person when it comes to politics and human rights (this really shouldn’t be a surprise if you’ve followed this far), and I try to keep the majority of it out of this story and off this blog. That said, I’m down for some discourse if any of you want to message me.

Moving to the actual story: This chapter gives a bit of insight into where the story is going next, plus some of the background stuff I always have cluttering up my head. It always gives me good material to show the different personalities and skill sets of the main and secondary characters. Overall, I really like how this chapter turned out.

And don’t worry - that difficult conversation is coming very soon.

I managed to compose myself by the time the men came into my sister’s public room, but only just. I hardly noticed the jostling on the couch as Tyche refused to move from my side and allow Maverick and Conor to sandwich me in between them like usual. She elbowed me to get my attention, and only then did I realize that she was still sitting next to me. Maverick on my other side, with Conor on the floor leaning against mine and Maverick’s legs.

Antoine looked so amused at the situation, I thought he might explode. When I arched an eyebrow at him, he just shook his head and settled into the one perfectly empty chair. “So, the festival?” he ventured.

Thank you for the safe ground, I thought before responding. “Overall, huge success. I still have to debrief with Alistair tomorrow, but preliminary reports are pretty good. There was a minor kerfluffle with a vendor before everything got set up, but we got that resolved pretty tidily. I think so, at least.”

Tyche shook her head. “I don’t recall any vendor issues.”

“Exactly,” I pointed out. “Originally, there was going to be a location that specialized in a certain pork product, and Alistair caught it when the vendor wanted to be stationed where the Jainist cuisine ended up being.”

“But that was between….” Maverick trailed off, horrified. Conor’s shoulders shook with laughter, resulting in getting a swat on both shoulders – one from the pilot, one from my sister. “Dude, it’s not funny! That’s just deliberately being rude. You don’t put pork between two groups who have religious prohibitions against it!”

Conor held his hands up in surrender. “I’m laughing at the tongue-lashing our Sophie probably gave the poor sod, I swear!”

“Actually, I didn’t.” Four heads turned to stare at me in disbelief. “Seriously. It was so much worse than you’re thinking, but I managed not to chew anyone out… much. Remember all the gourmet bacon that was everywhere at the festival? That was the guy. For whatever reason, the vendor and Simon thought there was nothing wrong with having a bacon-themed stall.”

“At the same event that was intended to help everyone recover from the attack on the ship by a certain terrorist group?” Antoine asked quietly, in a tone that I had learned meant he was boiling mad.

“Yep,” I popped the last consonant in emphasis. “I called him, pointed out how tasteless it was, and we decided instead to let the other alcoves feature the wares. To his credit, it never even crossed his mind that it was a bad idea. He was focused on the flavor list, and the vendor was focused on showing off like everyone else was.”

He nodded thoughtfully as my sister spoke. “So, the bacon gets out there, in the best possible way, without anyone being distracted by the connotation.”

“Pretty much. And, honestly? I think that particular vendor got better coverage than anyone else at the event… that stuff was everywhere. Maple and bacon donuts, chocolates with candied bacon, on burgers, wrapped around seafood, you name it.”

“And that was the only vendor issue?” she asked.

I nodded, before switching gears. “Now, I want to hear about the low-stim portion of the event. I have the official reports from everyone, and Alistair is going to give the highlights tomorrow, but I want to get an idea from you three how it plays against the regular session.” Automatically, I started playing with Conor’s hair, just because it was by my hand. I had no idea how many times I had done that in the past, but I was very conscious of it right now.

Maverick spoke up, snapping me out of my distracted thoughts. “Well, it was a lot calmer, better lit, pretty much as intended. With a very few exceptions, the vendors were much more relaxed during the low-stimulus session, too. I think that had a positive impact on the attendees, since they felt less like a bother.”

“There was definitely less resistance from the vendors in regards to food preferences in the earlier portion,” Antoine added. “In the first session, when presented with a list of foods that were not an option, they largely cooperated. However, when we went back, this dropped by an estimated thirty percent.”

“That’s disappointing,” I muttered.

Maverick reached over to squeeze my hand gently. “Hey, on the plus side, the Japanese vendor kept the natto covered the entire time.”

“That was surprisingly popular,” my sister pointed out. “Probably the novelty, from what you two told me about it. We may need to be on the lookout for natto-eating challenges in the near future.”

I shook with revulsion before composing myself. “To be fair, there are people who do actually like it, and it’s supposed to be very nutritious. Don’t let our bias stop you from trying it. Just… please don’t do it when either of us is around?”

Conor took that chance to jump into the conversation. “Any of the typical disturbances you would see from a big event like that? Fights, drunk and disorderlies, that kind of thing?”

“I haven’t heard anything,” I responded cautiously. “And the alcohol was limited to two drinks per attendee, non-transferable. Even at The Undine, the drinks were low or no content after each person had their allotment. Xiomara will have the exact data, though.”

“Oh!” Tyche grabbed my arm for attention. “The quiet rooms? Huge success. I ducked in several of them both times I was there, and even toward the end of the festival, people were really respectful of them. Any groups were small, and they kept their voices at a whisper or a very low – “ She waved her hand at the word she was looking for. “Mutter. Not mutter. The other one. But that, yeah.”

Antoine chuckled at her excitement. “Yes, the attendees were keeping the noise to a minimum, as she says. It felt very much like walking into a library. You may receive some requests to keep the rooms in place, Sophia.”

Regretfully, I shook my head. “I wish we could, but the majority of the space we used for the festival was only loaned to us by people who actually live there. If those people want to keep the rooms as they are, they are more than welcome to the free re-decorating, but those are still private residences. In fact, most of the people have already moved back in.” A collective groan came from everyone in the room, Conor going so far as to bury his face in my knee out of disappointment. “The best I can do is offer the design plans freely to everyone on the Ark, and I can talk to the Council about the demand for spaces like that. Maybe we can set up a few small libraries or botanical gardens throughout the ship, if Miys is okay with it.”

“I think the botanical gardens will go over well,” Conor offered, glancing up. “Noah is fond of air-cleaning plants, it turns out. Calls them little trooplings.” When Maverick furrowed his brows so hard it looked like it hurt, our resident pseudo-botanist clarified. “Hujylsogox are mycogenetic, which means they evolved from fungus-like lifeforms. Mushrooms grow in colonies, clusters, and troops. The word’s probably not the same, but the closest the translators can get to the concept of a baby Hujylsogox is ‘troopling’.”

“But why would Miys compare plants to baby-thems?” Maverick asked, glancing around for explanation. Tyche, Antoine, and I just stared at Conor, waiting for an explanation.

With a sigh, he continued. “Noah – or Miys – absorbs nutrients and sustenance from the air, constantly. It has to be supplemented with rations, sure, but it’s a function they can’t control. Miys jokes about not having a sense of smell, but they can definitely tell how clean the air is, and they’re sensitive to caustic fumes.”

“Just like the plants,” Tyche ventured.

He nodded. “It’s really similar. The plants are a bit less sensitive to things like fumes from spicy foods, though.” Tyche and I flushed at the reminder of the time we ran Miys out of my quarters while making dinner. Antoine smiled, but Conor roared with laughter and told the story to Maverick.

When he finished, Tyche jumped in. “In our defense, we didn’t know the smell of the chili sauce reducing would give Noah actual burns. The fumes or vapor, or whatever you want to call it, had run a couple people off, but Noah told us before that they don’t have noses, so it never occurred to us that it would be a problem.”

“Nothing in what you just said argues against the fact that you two were deliberately cooking and eating something so spicy that people ran away and one needed treatment for burns,” Maverick pointed out.

“Miys pointed that out, too,” I admitted. “Okay, new topic, before I die of embarrassment. Festival is out of the way, so the gravity adjustment is scheduled for two days from now.”

Antoine leaned forward with laser-focus. “We need to expect increased anxiety and paranoia, along with some fatigue.”

Tyche and I nodded, while Maverick made a noise of agreement. Conor glanced around at all of us. “Okay, superbrains, tell the dumb lug what I’m not understanding here.”

I rolled my eyes at the self-assigned appellation - he had just given us a small lecture on the similarities between Miys biology and that of a potted plant - and gestured for Antoine, following the evening’s convention of deferring to the people with the most expertise. He nodded and explained, “The increase in gravity will only be five-percent of Earth gravity, putting the entire ship at 1.1. It is not enough for anyone to really notice, beyond some minor discomfort, as everyone has already adjusted to the initial increase to 1.05. However, our brains know something is ‘not right’ for lack of a better term. Not necessarily wrong or dangerous, but not the same and not what we have grown to consider normal, similar to if everything was moved two centimeters to the left – just because you cannot tell exactly what changed, it does not mean you cannot tell something has changed. This results in increased anxiety and sometimes paranoia.”

Conor nodded as it started to make sense to him. “Even knowing ahead of time that the gravity will be adjusting, it can still happen?”

I snorted violently. “Never expect people to read all their mail.”

“Good point,” he conceded. “How many total adjustments to gravity are we going to have?”

“Ten, total,” Tyche answered as she flicked open her data pad, shrugging apologetically. “I know, I know. Family rule: no data pads on dinner nights. But I don’t have all the information memorized, and this is a good discussion.” Scrolling through the information, she stopped and mimed tapping a screen. “Kepler 442b has half-again as much gravity as Earth, which is more than our scientists Before had initially estimated. Its star is slightly bluer than Sol, but not quite as bright. It isn’t tidally locked, but just barely. A year there is about three Terran months, with the days half that long. It’s also colder than Earth, due to its star being smaller, but not by much once you compensate for Terran global warming and Kepler 442b having a denser atmosphere.” She scowled up at me. “We need to name our new home, you know. I thought you were going to work on that.”

“I’ve had a lot on my plate,” I objected before sighing and slouching against the back of her couch. “But you’re right. We need to get on that. I want to do an Ark-wide poll, but I need to set the criteria and have it approved by the Council, first. Nobody actually wants to name our second chance ‘Colony McPlanetface’, and I would like to weed out the multitudinous variations of home or dirt.”

“Have people submitting ideas include a justification,” Maverick pointed out. “That will weed out a lot of people who aren’t serious, if they have to include an essay.”

I grinned widely at him, squeezing his arm in affection. “That’s a great idea, actually. Granted, I don’t look forward to reading all those essays – even if a single-digit percent of people submit, that’s still hundreds – but at least it will limit the submissions that are intended as a joke.” I thought for a moment. “And… if we include the criteria that the name cannot be certain words or versions of certain words, Zach can probably write a program to weed those out, as well.” I turned to my sister and Antoine, nudging Conor gently.

“Start thinking of names we don’t want to see. I’ll send a message to the Council tomorrow asking for their input and running the idea by them tentatively. And whoever is keeping track, add Goldilocks to that list. It was unoriginal to start with, and now it just feels cursed.”

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#the miys #humans are weird #original sci fi #science fiction #aliens #apocalypse #writing #humans are space orcs #earth is space australia

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ritacaroline · 5 years

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Starshine Ch. 60 Jimmy Page Fan Fiction

The band and crew and wives flew out to Germany in mid - November. They had two weeks of dates scheduled in three different cities. Jimmy had made sure

that Jill would be well taken care of, avoiding any exertion to her body.

Once landed, they were all driven to the gorgeous hotel. A high quality, high service, glorious old fashioned hotel. Jimmy and Jill had a huge suite, huge living area room. After everyone had gotten comfortable in their rooms, the band and their wives congregated in a huge common area in the main floor of the hotel. They ordered some foods to try along with various types of German beer, to go along with the other alcohol they had brought along. All were sitting around the big table.. It was dimly lit and a touch of spookiness in there. Darkly stained wooden walls with taxidermized animal heads hanging about. Deer, fox, rabbits, wild foul. Gave a light chill to the décor. Some how the subject of ghosts and spirits took over the conversation. A few real life stories were told. All were getting a little spooked. Percy asked Jill what had happened to her parents, since he knew they had passed on when Jill was about 18. She had never mentioned much about the details, but now, she felt more comfortable to share it. She had known them all for about a year now. And there was plenty of closeness. Jill had met Jimmy right after Thanksgiving the year before.

They all tossed back a few brews. She began to explain to the group, that when her mom was still alive, before the accident, Jill and her Mom had an on-going chronic argument. It was about the fact that their mom coddled Jill’s younger sister. Jill complained that her parents were just so lenient and easy to squeeze money from, for her younger sister. Any whim that struck Hannah, their parents would be steps away agreeing to it and ready to fund it. Jill complained that, they were not this same way with herself when growing up and that they needed to change their ways. Needed to harness the open flood of leaking cash from them to Hannah. Her mom argued, “Well, we’re getting older now, and what if we don’t have that many years left. Why not use our money to provide fun for our girl ??“

That’s when Jill came out with the sentence she currently regretted . It was :

Jill : Well,…. if you only have a short while left on this planet, then why would you spend your time wrong ?

A day later, Jill received a call telling her that her parents had been killed in a traffic accident. She was in complete anguish. To top it off, her last conversation ended rudely between herself and her mother. No “I love you.” Just snarky comments.

Jill continued

Jill : Ok. So about 2 months later, I was alone in my apartment. And I was thinking.about the last conversation I had with her. I was reliving it in my mind. I would hear it playing in my head, her part of the words. Then I would speak out loud, my words, reciting my part as best I could remember.

Just as I was reliving my last line, I was also sitting down into my chair at the table. So, while saying “do you want to live your last year wrong ?“ At that exact second, I landed into the chair, my hair got entangled on a latch on the door behind me. It yanked my hair so hard that I saw stars from the pain. When I looked at what had grasped my hair, there was actually a tuft of my hair, pulled out, stuck in that door latch. A segment of my hair had been torn right out. And it hurt like hell. My thoughts immediately went to - that was my punishment for saying something mean like that to my mother. Either she personally pulled it, or maybe someone else in the afterlife did. As payback for my rudeness to her.

Clare : Holy moley. You just gave me chills with that one.

John Paul : Yeah me too.

Linda : My hair is standing on end.

They were all seated at a long table with bench like seating.

Jimmy just stared with his mouth partly opened, in awe. With a knitted brow and with troubled intensity.

Jill : Jim ? Are you okay ?

Jim : (tuning back in to reality, suddenly.) Oh, …yeah. Yeah. I just never heard you mention that event before. It’s totally intriguing. And especially since you nearly never speak about your parents.

He put his arms around her and held her against himself and kissed her lips and the side of her face.

Jill : I’m aware of that. I don’t like thinking about it. Or talking about it. I just don’t.

Jim : There’s nothing wrong with that angel. Whatever feels right for you.

Jill : Thanks.

Jimmy used his other hand to press her head against him and kept kissing her forehead and side of her face. She loved his sensitivity and caring. She absolutely adored him. He made her feel so protected and loved.

Percy : Ok then ! Anyone have a funny story ?

Bonz : At the farm, we have a goat. It’s totally crazy, but this goat has become seriously attached to the dog. The dachshund !! They follow each other around, have become utterly bonded like soulmates. Ginny doesn’t care to mingle with the other goats. It’s a sight to see, so funny, ya know.

As he continued, Jimmy whispered to Jill, “Babe, do you want to go upstairs, lay down for awhile ? Or possibly off to sleep for the night, girl ? It’s been a long day for you, my love.”

Jill : Yes, I need to. I’m thankful you’re watching over me.

Jim : Yes, I’m doing the best I can.

So they said goodnight and headed for the elevator to their suite.

Once in there, he helped her get undressed and into a nightgown. He put her into the bed and covered her with a warm blanket. He got his clothes off and turned the lights off. Only the light from the fire in the fireplace lit the room. He lay down next to her, snuggled up against her, kissing her face. Placed the blankets around himself too. It was so warm and comfortable, they were both fast asleep within moments.

Next chap 61 : https://ritacaroline.tumblr.com/post/189118792356/starshine-ch-61-jimmy

Chapter Index for “Starshine” is located at bottom section of Ch.1 , click here :

https://ritacaroline.tumblr.com/post/184383708541/starshine-ch-1-jimmy

Link to “In The Light” - original fan fic -https://ritacaroline.tumblr.com/post/173286165501/in-the-light-jimmy-page-fan-fiction

JimJam Mistresses : @tremble-and-shake @ledoftherings @gimmeeshelter @adonna1964 @justanotherzosofangirl @starchild0985 @girlofthemoon75 @bonscottintheimpala @12909168 @jjullz @cherryfloyd @tenementcrazylittlefruitcake @save-me-from-the-gallows-pole @marauderofworlds @ultrabitchystudentperfectionus @satanspizzadeliveryguy @misspenylane @catherine0627 @page-daddy @yerawizardjimmeh @jimmyypagey @magnetacuddles84 @ledxzeppelin @luvejimmy @how-many-more-times-blog @loveinher-eyess @miniaturewinnerwonderland @http-jinx @basementmermaid @crying-over-rock-legends @cherrrywitch @scarletrossetti @miamorjimmypage @jimmypageismylife @pennylane1968 @jlmmypage @flappypage @gamermattias-blog @generouswitchrebel @ countcranky

*Please advise if you would like to be tagged or untagged

#Fan Fiction #submission #jimmy page fanfiction #jimmy page fan fic #jimmy page fan fiction led zeppelin

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