#its not even my worst teenage cringe but by god its up there | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

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Little Bones 3

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series); harassment, general creepiness.

This is dark! (biker) Thor x chubby!reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: You’re a city girl stuck in a small town, but Birch isn’t as sleepy as it seems.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown and When the Weight Comes Down

Note: Another random update of a series for y’all as I toil away at drabbles in between!

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Masterlist

Your skin crawled as you walked to work the next morning. The memories of the night before made you cringe and tuck your chin down as you kept your eyes ahead of you. You feared if you looked around, you might summon the incessant biker from his hole.

The library was as empty as any other day and you claimed your seat at the curved desk. You booted up and sipped from your thermos, the coffee bitter on your tongue as you watched Melissa appear from the non-fiction section. She sat in her own chair and yawned as she signed on.

The monotony of Birch was sobering after the night in the dank bar. The bikers and their own little world, a microcosm of the worst types all in one place. You went about your usual tasks, there were a few returns on the cart to put back on the shelves and you walked the shelves and checked for out of order codes.

The hours slaked by like the peaks of a mountain against ancient gales. The stale lights made the days stretch to tedium and the grey without added to the sense of listlessness. Colin’s low snores escaped the back room and Melissa sorted through bent paperbacks in a far aisle to put out for the Sunday penny sale.

As the windows darkened, Colin gave his usual grumbled farewell and further mussed his wavy hair as he tried to smooth it out. It didn’t matter much as he covered it with the old faded Leafs toque and left through the automatic doors. His shadow was soon followed by Melissa as she looked forward to seeing her daughter and watching some new program on the local channel.

You were the last as you walked the aisles before final lock-up. The automatic doors were off as you checked for unlikely stragglers. You came back to the round desk and flipped off the lights for all but the entry way and the back office. You pushed open the door and locked the outside ones with a jangle of keys. As you turned back, you gripped the big key to the back door and shook your head.

You stepped through the space between the inner doors and stared at the man behind your desk. He sat in your chair, your purse sat before him on the counter as he shoved a large hand inside. You crossed your arms and watched Thor as he pulled out your coral coloured wallet and unsnapped it.

“What are you doing?” You asked harshly. “How did you get in here?”

He snickered and pulled out a card and lifted it up to look at it closely. He leaned back and flicked it with his thumb. “I knew you were a city girl.” He said.

“Get out. We’re closed.”

“Sorry, I’m late. I’m a busy man.” He slid the card back in place and searched the rest, uninterested by the few bills inside the fold and your various reward cards and outdated alumni ID.

“Late? You don’t seem the reading type. We don’t have that many audiobooks.” You neared and grabbed the other handle of your purse. “There’s an app for that now.”

Again, he laughed and dropped your wallet into the depths of your purse. He released it and pushed his shoulders back as you dragged the bag off the desk. He tilted his head and held up your phone in its shiny lavender case. He smirked as the screen lit up and he swiped it open. You never should have added the library as a trusted location.

“Hmm,” he turned it to face him and scrolled with his thumb, “I think you’re missing a number in here.”

“Give it.” You reached for the phone and he held it away from you like some annoying teenager. “Hey… Thor! Give me it. It’s mine!”

His blonde lashes flashed and he looked at you with delight. “Oooh, I love it when you say my name.”

“Stop. You can’t be in here and you certainly can’t--”

You swiped for the phone again and he caught your arm. He yanked you so hard you almost left the floor and you dropped your purse and keys. He held you over the counter as he twisted your wrist just a little.

“And who exactly is going to make me leave?”

He kept his thick fingers locked around your wrist as he searched your phone. You struggled with him but it only sent a violent jolt up to your elbow.

“I can do whatever I want and you can’t do anything to stop me. In fact, there’s no one in this town who can.” His jaw clenched and he locked your phone. “Well, kitten, I’m going to hold onto this.” He let go of you and stood as you retracted your arm and rubbed your sore wrist. “And when you want to be a good girl for me, you can come find me and ask for it nicely.”

“Ask? You’re crazy. It’s mine. You’re--” you sputtered.

You swallowed as his hand balled to a fist and his brow twitched. It was the first hint of anything but amusement. It was much more troubling, a slight tell. He was angry.

“I’ve been nice, kitten. I like you and your claws but don’t scratch too deep.” He warned as he backed away. “I’ll see my way out unless of course… you would take me up on my offer from last night.”

“Go. Keep the fucking phone.” You snarled and reached for your purse and the keys.

You stood and watched as he ran his tongue just below his teeth and turned away. He snaked his way through the back office and you heard the heavy metal door whine in his stead. You locked the inner doors and grabbed your jacket from the rack.

You went to the same door and hit the lights. You activated the security system and stepped out with a cautious look around the vacant parking lot. You locked the door and headed around the side of the brick building and out into the glow of the streetlights.

You could get a new phone, that was nothing, just a chunk out of your check. He could search your contacts, your apps, your phones, he’d find nothing but the pathetic life of a thirtysomething wash out. That wasn’t what worried you.

He was watching you. He had to be. He knew when you were alone and he knew how to get in. You might not see him but you were certain he could see you. You shivered and pulled your hate over your head and puffed out a cloud.

💀

You went home angry but slightly addled from the encounter. You watched over your shoulder the entire way home and locked your door with the tarnished chain. You found it hard to settle as you debated marching over to the bar and demanding your phone back and opening the wine you hadn’t touched since your impulsive purchase. You really hated Thor but you knew you could push him much further before he did something much worse.

You ignored your wrath and ate your dinner in front of the television before hiding under your covers and watching the snowfall until you fell asleep. Every night was as dull as the one before and the morning always came too quickly.

You woke and readied for your day with a cup of home-brewed Colombian roast and packed your lunch. You searched for your phone for two seconds before you remembered where it was. Your neck prickled as you thought of Thor with access to all your information and the barren social media accounts.

The snow was even deeper that day and you fought through the thick carpet. The library felt twice as far by the time you reached it and you were panting as you entered and shook off the powder. You took your usual spot at the usual time with your usual thermos and usual disillusion.

You whiled away the hours without the distraction of your phone. You realised how easily this man could torture you and not even be in the same place as you. You went searching in the aisles for something to do and scraped the gum off the bottom of the tables. A disgusting task but work nonetheless.

When the end of the day came, you were all too happy to go home and hide under your duvet with a tea and a sitcom. You hated this. You would go to the city and get a new phone if you had too. God, how much would that cost?

💀

The days slogged by and on your first free day, you were too tired to make the drive out of town. You resigned to your procrastination, instead taking a short walk down the main street to Babs’. Your usual order, but cinnamon instead of caramel in your latte, and a scone to enjoy at home.

The snow remained as thick as days before. You looked out the bakery window in dread as you awaited your order at the end of the counter. You still caught yourself reaching for your phone. If you waited too long, you might not even be able to make it into the city. Well, you could always order something online.

The door chimed as Steve’s girl came to the other side of the counter and placed your latte out for you. She smiled and you thanked her but her eyes rounded as you heard boots come close. You turned, barely surprised by the man who was better described as your shadow those days.

Since his visit to the library, Thor had made himself known in several instances, every day as you walked home he was outside the asp, watching. Other times, he’d be waiting by the steps of the library, mocking you silent as he pulled out your phone. You had too much pride to ask for it back and you knew that it would take more than asking.

You tried to sidestep him and he blocked your path. The foam pushed out through the hole in the plastic lid and you sighed.

“What do you want?” you hissed.

“I should ask you. I don’t know many girls these days can go days without their lifeline,” he taunted, “You know, it’s dangerous how much of ourselves we keep on these little things.”

He patted his jacket where he no doubt had your phone hidden. You looked down at your latte and thought of popping the lid off and tossing it at him. That wouldn’t be any good. You shrugged and looked past him.

“I gotta go--”

“Is there anything I can get you, Thor?” Steve’s girl eked out as if her voice could barely fit through her windpipe.

“I’ve come for something sweet but I think I found it,” he smirked, his eyes stuck to you.

“Give it up,” you scoffed and elbowed past him. He chuckled and followed you to the door as you sped up, your treads squeaking on the salt-stained floor.

“On you? Never,” he purred as you pulled the door open and he caught it behind you.

“You can break the phone for all I care,” you snarled, “just leave me alone.”

He kept up with you as flakes gathered on your scarf and you peered down the street and ran across. His boots crunched in time with yours as he lingered in your peripheral. You spun as you came to a stop on the other side and scowled.

“Jesus, I thought dogs were supposed to be obedient,” you snapped.

“I can be,” he winked and reached to brush the snow from the hair poking out from under your cap, “I’ll gladly get to my knees for you, kitten.”

You snapped at his hand and he pulled away with a surprised laugh. You gritted your teeth and took a step back.

“I won’t tell you again and I’m getting real tired of this.”

“You keep forgetting who you’re meowing at, kitten,” he stepped closer and you backed away again.

You turned and flitted away from him. You had not planned for him in your day off and you weren’t going to let him ruin it. You wanted to go home and enjoy your coffee, alone. However, that meant leading him to your front door. You stopped again.

“Go,” you pointed across the street at the Asp, the town’s marquee.

“Oh, kitten, you’re so cute,” he tugged on your scarf and you swatted him away.

“Alright, that’s it!” you smashed your cup against his chest and the hot liquid steamed as it splashed across his front and dripped down his leather jacket.

He held out his arms as he looked down at himself and slowly back to you. His blue eyes dilated as the ends of his golden hair sopped with caffeine. It was too late to apologize, too futile. You sputtered and quickly turned away.

You were thankful when you didn’t hear him behind you. You stopped and peaked back at the corner of the next side street. He watched you still and even at a distance you could see his rage.

If you hoped he’d lose interest, that optimism was dead.

💀

A snow storm stagnated the already stale town and you could guess that the highway was even worse. You could replace your sim online but that would take at least a week to arrive and with the weather, likely longer. It might be quicker to wait out the blizzard. You stayed in limbo, reluctant to pull the trigger.

You kept to your apartment for the rest of the weekend, with no reason or want to leave. On your way, you didn’t see him. You sighted a few figures through the falling powder but they were faces familiar to the streets. You kept an eye over your shoulder, glancing around every few steps.

You avoided the cafe. He might look for you there, he might even be waiting for you. You sat down at your desk but felt out of place. He could walk through those doors like he had only days before. He could taunt you and tease you. What made you so antsy was that he could do worse than that. You knew it but you’d let your temper get the best of you. A wasted latte might have cost you everything.

By the end of your shift, it was decided. You were leaving Birch. No one could know until you were gone. Not Melissa, not Colin, no one. You old all-weathers would have to get you down the highway, just to the city so you could lose yourself there until you had a real plan. Even as the snow piled higher and higher, there could be no delay. You’d waited long enough.

Paranoid, you were certain you’d be met again on your path home. The town was dead as the soft blanket covered the ground. The flakes turned to mounds and the tops of your boots let in errant clumps of snow. The store may as well been closed for the day, the library had been little different but its lethargy was expected. Even The Asp seemed to have dulled with the pale gusts.

You packed a bag. One. The apartment came furnished and you never cared much for miscellany. Anything you left behind was replaceable. You went down the back stairs and cleaned off your small Focus. Used but reliable. You were out of breath as you climbed into the driver’s seat and threw the brush in the back.

You drove carefully down the side streets, snaking around as you knew the main fair would give away your escape. You stopped at the sign that pointed to the highway ramp and wondered.

What if he had got the clue? What if you were running from nothing?

You remember the look in his eye and shivered. No, that glimmer assured you that return to your mother’s was as wise as it would be torturous. You followed the arrow and took the curve steadily with your foot planted on the gas. The traffic was slow and cautious as headlights were barely visible through the snowfall.

You gripped the wheel tightly and let out a breath. You would be gone before he knew. You’d get a new phone, a new job, a new life. Even if it was just pay-as-go, a McDonald’s visor, and your mother’s couch for a while. What good was a job in a place like Birch anyway? Just as good as your irrelevant degree.

You were startled and nearly lost control as a set of lights appeared behind you in the next lane. They were dangerously close to dinging your rear bumper as the reckless driver took a u-turn right before the upcoming barriers. You wrinkled your brow as you glared at them through the white haze. What kind of maniac was pulling shit like that in this weather?

And then, they did hit you. A nudge but enough to send you veering in the thick lines of snow. You clutched the wheel and tried to steer into it, tried to right yourself as you were knocked again. Your heart was in your throat as the engine revved and you hit your brakes, not knowing what else to do as a third collision came.

You spun out and hit the cement wall along the far lane, narrowly missing another car as it pulled ahead. You stilled, your seatbelt saving your face from a smack against the wheel, and stared down the highway as you stared at oncoming traffic. You were completely turned around on the arm.

You caught your breath and reached for your purse. Fuck, you had no phone. What was that asshole thinking? It didn’t seem like an accident.

The car that had bullied you into a crash pulled up along the barrier. You watched in the rear view as the barely visible tail lights glowed and a dark figure appeared between the car and the concrete. You squinted as the man neared, a long coat flapped around his tall figure as he held his hand to his face.

He came up beside your car as you heard his voice muffled through the glass and tapped on your window. He bent and knocked again as you shot him the finger. You were ready to give him a piece of your mind. You rolled down the window with the manual crank and growled, “what the fuck!?”

“Can I have your name, darling?” he asked in a sinisterly familiar accent.

“Screw you! You almost killed me!”

He turned his phone out as you screeched at him and quickly put it back to his ear, “that sound like her?”

A deep voice rumbled in the speaker and the dark-hair man nodded as he shielded his face from the blowing snow, “you owe me, brother.”

“Who the fuck are you?” you spat and reached to your glovebox. You grabbed the heavy flashlight and swung it at him, “get away--”

He caught with a leather-gloved hand and glared back at you. He tucked away the phone in his jacket. His nostrils flared and his green irises caught fire.

“Let’s not do this, darling,” he warned, “my brother has given me clearance to use whatever force necessary…” he pushed the button and pulled open your door as he wrenched away the metal flashlight, “and while he seems the bigger brute, I assure you his cruelty cannot match mine.”

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i-dont-want-your-hysteria · 3 years

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Up In the Air (Joe x Reader)

(surprise gift for you guys on Joe's birthday ^_^ I started this almost exactly a year ago, and it's finally done! Someone pointed out that I slightly hinted at the plot of this in my last fic post... you caught me.)

Words: 4,028

Prompt: Spring, 1983. Joe has an opportunity in his sights, but as luck would have it, it does not go his way (or does it...?)

-----

(1983)

"God, it was so embarrassing!" Joe put his palms over his eyes as he whined to Sav. The singer was flat on his back in the middle of their bed, and Sav's back was against the wall opposite him. The bassist had his arms crossed in exasperation.

They were back in a fresh, new hotel room after another flight to another city. They'd been settled in for a while, and- as far as you knew- Joe was physically well. Emotionally, however...

"What are the odds that things were placed so perfectly for me today, and then-?!" he swatted the air above him, "That happens? 'Just my luck!"

Sav didn't consider it as dire of a situation as Joe did. In fact, he seemed rather entertained than sympathetic.

"That was out of your control, mate."

"I know it was, but-" he sat up, "Y/n was right there! How was I supposed to keep it together?!"

"If it were anyone else other than her, you still would've had to keep it together, you know," Sav tilted his head down, but had his eyes looking up.

"Well, you're no help," Joe grumbled, crossing his arms back at the bassist and flopping back down onto the mattress.

"There's nothing to help you with!" Sav took a seat at the foot of the bed, "It's not my fault you got-"

Joe sat up again in a snap, warning with a pointed finger, "Don't say it."

"I was just gonna say that I had nothing to do with you being-"

"Don't say it!" Joe pleaded again.

"Joe, it's not that big of a deal that you-"

"Sav!"

"Alright, fine!" Sav threw up both hands, shaking his head and narrowly fighting off a laugh, "I won't say it!"

A loud sigh came from Joe, his head hanging now. The heat of embarrassment refused to leave his face.

"...do you think she's still hung up on it, too?" his voice went quiet, and his tone adopted a sad air.

Sav raised his hand, rubbed his fingers together, and patted Joe's ankle reassuringly.

"It's hard to say no," he admitted, "I know I wouldn't have liked to be in either of your shoes today."

~(5 hours earlier)~

A hand took a grip on your right forearm without warning. It snapped you from the hypnotic, musical trance you'd been in for most of the flight. Having been placed next to the singer for the first time on an airplane, you knew it was his action without a doubt. You looked down and sure enough, Joe's hand was there- holding onto you just a bit too tightly.

Your free hand took off your headphones and you asked him, "Everything alright?"

The singer wasn't focused on you, or anything, it seemed. "Unfocused" was probably the best word you could think of to describe him. His head was slightly tilted downwards, but his eyes were fixed on the back of the chair in front of him. Despite that, it appeared as if he couldn't see it no matter how hard he tried.

You gathered this impression from a split second of looking at him, but as soon as he heard your question, Joe's hold on you was instantly released. His own trance was snapped as well.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry. I thought you were the armrest..."

"You were holding on pretty tight," you pointed out, "Something wrong?"

That same look on his face was back again; unfocused. His hand slowly found its way back to the armrest- now that he knew it wasn't your arm. You saw his hand shaking before he gripped it tightly.

"You don't look so good," you noted, adopting a frown.

He hesitated slightly before going very quiet, his face suddenly appearing pallid.

"Fuck..." Joe cursed himself, "I fucked up, I fucked up..."

You pressed again, "Joe... tell me what's wrong..."

He lied to you in a halting voice when a new blush seemed to form on his face, "Um... it's nothing much. There's just- something I haven't told you, and I should've mentioned it before we got on board. But I..."

He fell quiet.

"Yeah...?" you urged him to go on.

"I get... seasick- airsick... sometimes. Not every time, but... every now and then I do- and..."

He visibly swallowed, his breath trembling when he slowly shut his eyes.

Your eyebrows went up, alarmed, "And you're not feeling so good?"

"No, no, no...!" his inner voice screamed.

"Not really, but I'm fine, don't worry about me. It just happens."

His efforts to shrink the overall worry didn't work, as you instantly knew that if things went south, you were the only nearby acquaintance of his who could help him. You were also trapped with him for 2 more hours until you landed, so you would've had to help him if need be.

"Oh god- are you gonna be sick?" your hand raised up slightly to reach for a sick bag.

"No! No, I'm more dizzy than anything..."

"Well, take this-" you handed him a sick bag, "-and just try not to focus on your surroundings. And if you can't hold it down... well just keep it in the bag and away from me, okay?"

"...okay," he exhaled and took it from you, desperately hoping it wouldn't come to that. For fuck's sake, he was already embarrassed enough. He felt like a child. Even worse; he felt like your child.

Joe shut his eyes again and rested his head back on his seat. His whole body looked drained of energy, and you saw sweat forming on his forehead. It was obvious to you he was trying to make himself appear more okay than he was.

"I can do this," Joe nearly said aloud, "I can get through this without her knowing."

Unfortunately, for him, you already knew.

"The poor guy," you were thinking with sympathy, "Never knew he could look so ill."

You asked, "You've been feeling bad for a while, haven't you?"

"...what?" he squinted under his eyelids, lying to you again, "No, not really. Why, can you tell?"

"I don't wanna sound rude... but yeah, you kind of look like hell."

Joe quietly whined at your declaration.

"I know that look, Elliott- I've been in this position before."

The man next to you was intrigued by what you implied. He was suddenly beginning to think that maybe his situation wasn't as embarrassing as it appeared.

His eyes opened, "Wait, have you ever-?"

"Oh- no, I never get sick on planes, but you're not the first case I've ever seen."

"Great. This means she's stronger than me."

You held up your bottle, "You want some water? Maybe settle your stomach a little?"

Joe felt his stomach turn at the mention of liquid and shook his head, "No, I'll be fine..."

It was another lie, but you decided maybe it was best you just let him be. Perhaps he wasn't that bad.

Joe, on the other hand, was fighting the sickness with all the strength he could muster- hoping you wouldn't see it.

"Don't mess this up," he was telling himself, "She's right there. Keep it together and don't balls it up...!"

Going with your plan, you let him be, and put your headphones back on.

He took a deep breath, "Fuck, if only the seatbelt lock wasn't on... then at least I could hide in the bathroom..."

The Leppard waited in terrified silence for his ailment to subside. With the current turbulence, it was impossible. Every shudder and bump made him want to heave until there was nothing left in his stomach. Worst of all, there was no where he could run to; he was trapped.

Oddly enough, before the sickness hit him, he was actually excited to be trapped there.

It was no secret among the band members that Joe quickly developed a crush on you. What started out as a feeling of preferring you over anyone else in the crew soon turned into a reach for romance. There was no time for him to make a move in the midst of the tour, though, which left him to suffer in his teenage desire alone.

When he heard he would be seated next to you on the next flight, he instantly knew it was an opportunity he couldn't afford to waste. This was the first time he'd sat directly by you on a plane, after all. It was a brilliant time to make a move and bond together. He'd been nervous ever since he sat down, but he never got the chance to make a flirt or decent conversation before his body betrayed him. Yes, it was an optimistic opportunity, but now Joe wished it'd been anywhere except up in the air.

The stress of the situation only made him feel worse- but he wouldn't accept the fact that he was about to lose this divine opening.

Not 4 minutes of your music went by when the plane shook yet again. When it did, you thought you saw Joe suddenly move from the corner of your eye. When your head turned, you saw his fist pressed against his mouth, an arm around his stomach, and a green tint over his pallid face.

"Woah, you alright?" you took your headphones off again.

Joe only nodded, closing his eyes to reassure you (but also to reprimand himself under the surface).

"No, no no!! Stop being sick for fuck's sake! You won't have a chance with her!!"

"I'm good, I'm good," he swallowed again, wiping sweat off his bangs, "Go back to your music."

"Don't lie to me, Joe. You look terrible-! Are you sure you don't need anything?"

"I'm really not that bad, Y/n. Just a little... motion sickness..." his breathing became labored, and he angled his body as far to his right as he could. He began to fidget with something as he swallowed, "Ohh..."

The cabin teetering around him somehow made things even worse.

"Honey, I don't think it's just a little," your concern was peaked, and a hand was hovering over his arm, "You look like you're about to throw up or pass out, so how about we get you some club soda and you can rest, okay? If you want to, you can even-"

Joe was turned completely away from you, and had suddenly lurched forward to vomit into the sick bag you'd given him earlier. You knew that any hope of him holding back his condition was impossible now.

You'd initially flinched at his retching; cringing and holding your breath. Only a second passed until you remembered your duty; you were the only friend nearby.

"Uh oh-" sympathetically, you sighed and reached out to him, your hands holding his hair back, "That's not good..."

***

"I feel so humiliated... I was just- so deathly sick! I threw up twice, Sav- twice! And she was right next to me! I feel awful that she had to put up with it...! I feel like that's on me. She probably thinks I'm disgusting; she probably sees me as this huge fucking pansy who can't keep his lunch down while flying..."

"Mate, getting sick on flights isn't a personality trait, and I'm pretty sure Y/N knows that, too."

Joe, who was laying down again, scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"...I think this situation isn't all that bad, really," Sav shrugged, his voice going up in pitch to take on a suggestive tone.

"What on earth makes you say that?"

"It's quite obvious! I just think you were-" he adopted Joe's voice and air quotes, "-'so deathly sick' that you didn't even realize exactly what was happening...!"

"Really? How so?"

"Oh, don't even get me started, Joe."

*** Joe was laying against you now, exhausted from the physical labor forced on his stomach and throat. He was still pale and shivering, but finally willing to accept your advice and remedies. You'd ordered him some club soda (and some mints from your purse), and suggested he take a rest.

This left you where you were now. He had a hand on his stomach, and another one under your hand to calm him.

To say the least, it felt like having a nice, heavy blanket partially draped on you. You couldn't help but think it was at least a little funny. To most people, they'd be absolutely repulsed by a man with a weak stomach sleeping on them during a flight. You couldn't blame them, as Joe could still hurl at any given moment. However, the instinct to care for him overpowered any repulsion you may have had. To you, Joe was like a sick puppy, and you were the one who found him first. You knew he needed you in that moment, and you were okay with it. It was a nice feeling, to say the least.

Joe moved his head against you in his weary and mostly-asleep state of consciousness. A soft grumble vibrated from his sore throat.

Amid those circumstances that would normally gross you out, you managed to smile at him. That, and you gently squeezed his hand to reassure him that he was safe.

That pale, clammy version of the singer you were trapped with wasn't the form of himself he put on display to just anyone. This was a whole new side of him that you knew he never intended you to see; he was helpless. Joe had given in and finally let himself be helpless around you. You found it was rather sweet, and even somehow softening your heart.

It almost felt like a strange honor that not many people had the privilege of possessing, given that Joe tried so hard to hide it from you.

Him desperately vying to avoid your concern was typical for any one of the guys. Naturally, none of them wanted to appear vulnerable around you, but Joe seemed so hell-bent on keeping up his charade of feeling fine. You wondered what reasons he had for his strict act. Perhaps it was the intimate public setting that drove him to conceal his motion sickness at all costs. Maybe it was in order to save himself from certain embarrassment; you really didn't know.

Whatever reason he had, it didn't dwell in your mind for long. All you knew was that even with a half-dead, cold-sweated Joe on your shoulder, your heart was fluttering in a way that was even more inexplicable than his behavior.

*** "First of all," Sav held up a sassy finger at Joe, "She was the one who suggested she hold your hand, plus she held your hair back, plus she let you sleep on her shoulder and tried to make you feel better. Sounds rather tender, if you ask me. Tenderly intimate."

"I'll tell you what was 'intimate'-" Joe's grumpiness was still prominent, "-her watchin' me regurgitate my fuckin guts from 10 inches away!"

"But those were all girlfriend duties!" Sav bounced in his seat, trying to get the point across.

Joe finally fell silent. He sat up, and Sav could see the blush in his cheeks.

"...girlfriend duties?" he nearly whispered to the bassist.

"I'm right and you know it. Tell me those weren't girlfriend-ly actions! She got affectionate with you!"

Joe let his sight fall, then rise back up after a brief moment of pondering.

"She did, didn't she..."

"She definitely did."

Sav was smirking at him now.

Joe asked him again, "You really think she did...?"

"There's not a doubt in my mind."

"Oh-" Joe made a swatting motion and shook his head. He looked diagonally down at the floor, "She probably would've been affectionate to any one of us in that situation..."

Sav laughed out loud at his friend's comment. If he didn't know any better, he'd say he was back at home, gossiping in Joe's childhood bedroom during a sleepover.

"Mate, when I had food poisoning last month, she didn't wanna get near me! But today, she was touchin' you and strokin' you and whatnot! Now that I mention it, I saw her smile while you were sleeping and holding her hand! Believe me, she wanted to help you. It was like she had an excuse to get close to you, just like you saw the flight as an excuse to get close to her."

Resting his case, Sav crossed his arms, tongue in his cheek.

They both remained quiet while Joe sat in thought. The pieces slowly began to fit together in his head, forming a train of thought he could somewhat follow.

"Suppose you are right; what do you suppose I do about it now?"

Sav could tell his argument was a success. His work there was done.

"That's entirely up to you."

*** You hadn't been awake that long, and were still pretty groggy when dawn began to break the next day. The unfortunate sensation of jet lag was beginning to catch up with you at that time, too. It didn't matter, because it was all part of the business. Your day would begin soon enough, jet lag or not.

After rubbing your eyes and throwing on your robe, you drew back the curtains and peered out at the misty morning. Thinking the hypnotic trance might wake you up more, you began to stare. Just as quickly, your eyes began to flutter shut again. Right before they did, however, there came a gentle knock at your door.

Blinking yourself back awake, you brought yourself to answer the call.

Initially, you found no one outside your room via the door's peephole. However, when you opened the door to search for anyone nearby, there came an unexpected surprise.

Rather than a person standing before you, a colorful bouquet of flowers lay on your doorstep. Of course, it was strange, but it also left you quickly growing bashful. You just hoped it wasn't one of your guy friends playing an early morning joke on you. Even so, your mind would be too cloudy to process that.

Looking around with sleepy confusion and flattery, you crouched down and picked up the bright bundle. You shuffled your fingers through the top of the arrangement to try and find a label or card that would give away the sender's identity. Eventually, you found the exact clue you were looking for; in the form of a small note.

The fresh, awakening scent of the blossoms wafted around you as you made out the handwriting.

"I'm so sorry I almost threw up on you on the plane! 🙁 -Joe"

It couldn't have been any more straightforward if it'd been put up on a neon sign. You chuckled out loud in the empty hallway and peered around to find a trace of the man in question.

Instantly, you found his eyes peeking from around the corner a few yards away. A guilty smile on his lips made him look so shy- in contrast to his average demeanor.

"This was really unnecessary, you know," the bundle was waved teasingly at him.

"I felt it was necessary," Joe's body slowly appeared more from behind the corner, "Considering you had no choice but to put up with disgusting ol' me."

Leaning on your door's frame, your eyes followed him while he strolled forward and leaned his shoulder on the wall in front of you. You both wore humorous smiles aimed at each other. If you could think any more clearly, you'd recognize this as flirting. Maybe it was- but it seemed oddly natural in that moment.

"Despite what you may think," your eyebrows lifted as you raised the bouquet up to your chin, "You weren't as gross as you expect. That, and you weren't any trouble."

"I just feel icky about the whole thing," he scrunched up his face and shrugged in disgust, "I promise it won't happen again- if I'm seated next to you."

"Don't worry about it, Joe. You just had a bad flight; everyone's got them from time to time."

"Not you, apparently."

Joe's smile turned rather bashful when he diverted his eye contact elsewhere. He silently chuckled with a hint of embarrassment. When you'd reassured him, he all of a sudden realized what Sav was trying to make him see. There was something in your eyes and your smile and your voice that just spoke to Joe; something that hit him and made him realize you wanted to be in the position you were in the day before.

You wanted to be affectionate with him.

Out of his daze, Joe spoke up after a brief hesitation, "So- um, I know it's early... but it's the perfect time for breakfast, so would you wanna go downstairs and get something to eat?"

"You mean with disgusting ol' you?"

"Don't worry-" his face almost went red at the cheeks, and his dimple appeared at the corner of his mouth, "You don't have to think about me keeping it down this time."

Your arm holding the flowers dropped down to your side as you broke up into giggles.

"I'm not worried- in fact, I'd love to go."

You couldn't be certain, but you swore you saw Joe's face actually go red that time.

"Cool! Cool. Did you wanna get dressed or-?"

"Well, you don't seem to be dressed either, so why should I?" you reached back into your room to place the bouquet inside. When you shut the door, you joined the singer, "Let's hit it before Mike and Mal take all the good pastries."

Joe showed his teeth in his grin when you came to his side and began walking.

"If they're all taken, I'll steal one for you- considering I owe you a favor after what you did for me yesterday."

"What did I do?"

The answer was simple, but Joe didn't know how to say it without implying his feelings for you.

"You nursed me back to heath- or at least tried to..."

"I told you not to worry about it..."

"Alright, alright, I'll try not to."

"I'll tell you something, Elliott," you giggled as you both got inside the lift, "You've got a strange way of flirting."

Heat rushed to Joe's cheeks, and more threatened to join them at the thought of you noticing.

"Oh yeah?" he laughed.

"You hope I won't notice every tiny effort, yet you keep doing tiny things to make me notice. Even if we're, for example- up in the air..."

"Oh, god..." just like that, Joe thought he'd be the first person on earth to die of embarrassment. He pinched the bridge of his nose, "Fuck- please don't tell me I was that obvious..."

"Calm down, don't make yourself sick again," you laughed and patted his back, "If it makes you feel any better... I did notice what you were trying to do on the flight. And- um... it worked. So..."

You stood on your toes, and lightly planted a kiss on his cheek, "Let's just say- you don't have to be sick if you want to hold my hand next time."

Joe's hand lowered from his face, and he quickly flashed a bashful glance at you before darting his eyes away.

The elevator doors opened, the smell of coffee seeping everywhere. Instead of walking out, Joe reached out to you.

"You said I didn't have to be sick next time, and I'm quite well now..."

A bashful smile of your own made an appearance as you took his hand like you did the previous day. When you did, Joe giggled to himself.

You glanced over, "What?"

With a pause, Joe rolled in his lips, then looked right at you, "Oh nothing. Just- if you get sick on the next flight, I guess we'll be even, then."

"So, you're gonna sit with me on the next flight, then?" you raised an eyebrow.

"If it means getting even with you, then yes."

"And if it doesn't mean getting even with me?"

"Well," Joe said, smiling widely, "Then the answer is still yes."

That answer was more than enough for you.

Strolling out together, hand-in-hand, you and Joe made your way towards the breakfast counter. In the corner of your vision, you noticed him snagging a pastry off of Mike and Mal's table when he passed by.

The end

#this took me exactly 359 days to 100% complete g__g #another very rare occurrence where a fic isn't based off a song or has the title stolen from a song #unfortunately the next fic is going to break that streak hah :3D #def leppard #joe elliott #def leppard fanfiction #joe elliott x reader #def leppard x reader #original content #rick savage #sav is a perfect mediator I'm sorry I have him in that role all the damn time orgiwroimvwr #everyone is a dumbass and sav is the keeper of dumbasses #I also spent nearly 4 hours making that moodboard i hope you're happy g_g #I just recycle the same boring joe birthday post every year bc I don't have any ideas nor do I have any resources in order to make-#-something different and/or better

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thr-333 · 4 years

Text

Drastic Measures- Part 2

@daminette-december2019-2020

~Swordplay~

To summarise: I will have the love square one way or another!

Ao3

First >Next

--------------

As far as homes go it’s pretty good” Adrien stretches out, Plagg curls up next to him.

“Don't get too comfortable we’re going to be on the move,” Marinette types furiously at her computer.

“I will try my hardest,” Adrien stares blankly at her, sat atop a pile of grubby blankets next to a broken window. Marinette loses connection to her computer and slams it shut with a huff.

“Get some sleep I’m going to find an internet cafe,” Marinette stuffs the cheap laptop into her bag, amazing how something she bought at a hole in the wall place for thirty bucks didn’t work well.

“Who needs sleep when you can have coffee,” Adrian stands up, ready to follow her.

“Sleep Chat,” She pushes him down by the shoulders, “I need my partner fully operational,”

“Yeah kid, take a break, we worked hard,” Plagg yawns, turning over.

“You also worked hard Bug,” Adrien lets himself be pushed back onto the blankets.

“I won't be able to sleep until I know how everything is in Paris,”

“Neither can I,” Adrien protests, already half asleep.

“Sure you can, night Chat,”

“Night M’lady,”

Marinette leaves the same way they came in, though the window. She has to slide down the gutter to get on the street, Tikki hiding away in her bag. She has to go pretty far in town to find a suitable cafe, too far from Adrien to be comfortable. Marinette pops in her earbuds before opening her computer to let her talk to Tikki freely.

She doesn't immediately search up missing person cases. Looking instead at Paris tourist destinations and guides. Switching to the dangers of traveling to Paris; the only mention of Akuma being on obscure question and answer sites. She looks at kidnapping potential and then moves onto missing person cases. Adrien's is the first to come up, obviously.

There was lots of outcry among his fans. Many were throwing around accusations of foul play on Gabriel's part from abuse to locking Adrien away from the world. However, Gabriel was also fiercely looking for his son. Adrien hadn’t left behind any sort of note. Well only to Nino, which Adrien had told Marinette was asked not to mention to anyone.

Marinette then feels safe enough to look up her own case. It was smaller, although was gaining attention as Jagged proclaimed it to high heavens; more so asking what they did wrong and how they could fix it and asking for any sightings of her. That could be a problem if her picture was already around. Marinette pulls her hood up higher. They might have to get haircuts and wear disguises… on second thought wearing suspicious disguises in Gotham might cause more problems.

“Tikki they seem really worried,” Marinette watches the videos Jagged posted, her parents in the background running around talking with police.

“Of course they are Mari,” Marinette feels a light tap on her side, “But you're doing the right thing,”

“No I’m not,” not when she’s watching a video of her parents crying, “I’m doing what needs to be done, this is my responsibility, no matter what a certain someone thinks,”

She spits with venom. Maybe Adriens rant last night rubbed off on her.

“He’s the hero here,” Tiki says non accusingly, “Imagine if another hero came to Paris without asking you… remember Volpina?”

“Ah now that was an actual villain,” Marinette hadn’t trusted her from the start, “Plus she was akumatized,”

“Marinette,” Marinette can’t bring herself to feel guilty, even under tikis scolding.

“Right but that still doesn't give him the right,” Marinette huffs, “After all would he attack Marinette? No!”

“Are you implying you would attack Lila?”

“......... no,”

“Marinette,”

Marinetti smirks to herself instinctively looking around for Adrien to share her joke. Then Marinette froze. The cafe was empty, not even a barista. How had she not noticed!?

“Wait,” Marinetti says out loud before Tiki could talk, “I’m going to have to call you back, something just came up,”

Something was watching her from the kitchen door as if she couldn’t see them. Marinette tries to act normal going for the pepper on the table and putting it on her food. They move at the same time. The attacker runs towards her, Marinette throws the shaker at- Robin?! It hits him square in the forehead, with a curse he touches his bleeding forehead.

“I am so sorry!” Marinette panics, “That was meant to explode in your face!”

“How is that better?!” Robin runs forward, sword drawn. Marinette ducks behind the table grabbing her plate and frisbeeing it towards him, he manages to dodge this one, “Draw your weapon coward!"

“I don’t have a weapon!” She grabs the table cloth ready to take the vigilante down, “What is wrong with you?!”

He doesn't answer lunging at her again with the sword. Marinette kicks up the table then kicks it towards him in one swift movement. With the impact of the table he drops the sword, Marinette jumps up landing on the table which pins Robin down to the ground with its weight and hers, with the legs sticking up.

“I knew it,” Robin spits and she presses her weight into the table to keep him pinned.

“Excuse you,” Marinette catches his wrist as he tries to pull a dagger on her using the table cloth to tie it to the legs of the table, then does the same with the other, “You attacked me,”

“-Robin!” she hears a faint call, no one is around so it must be from his communicator, “-Robin report back to the cave!”

“I’ll take that~” Marinette sings songs ignoring how he growls at her. She rolls her eyes stepping off the table she needed to get out of here now.

She steps out of the cafe throwing the communicator and likely a tracking device too on the roof of a passing car then sprints in the opposite direction. She heads for the alleys looking for an area with no cameras as she runs. When she finds a spot Marinette transforms running back to their base with record timing.

“Adrien wake up!” Ladybug jumps through the window, barely avoiding landing on him, “Batman’s after us,”

“What?!” He sits bolt upright, Ladybug pulls him onto his feet.

“Move! Now!” She grabs their bags, Adrien transforms and they take off over the rooftops.

“What happened?!” Chat shouts as the runaway, “Is Batman chasing us?”

“Yes, well kinda-- Robin tried to kill me,”

“He what?!”

“As Marinette,” She adds, slowing down as they should have put enough distance between them.

“Did they figure us out already?” Chat Noir slows down into a walk then collapses on the rooftop,

"Probably,"

“This is the worst wake up call ever!”

“Well, it's about to get worse,” Ladybug cringes feeling the distinct trace of magic she was all too familiar with.

“Akuma?”

“Akuma,”

“Great, perfect,” Chat complains standing back up.

“At least we’re not at school,” Ladybug shrugs, launching herself over a roof.

“No you’re right being chased by a masked vigilante is a massive improvement,”

---

Wow

“Robin! Get your head out of the clouds and get over here!”

Damian breaks out of his trance, regrettably tearing his gaze away from Ladybug to the much less awe inspiring sight of Batman trapped under a car. They shouldn’t be wasting their time worrying about these established amazing hero’s and worry about that assassin on the loose. Who knows who she was after. She could be planning Batman’s demise at this very moment; if she was close with his mother then surely she knew their identities which was far far more dangerous.

Ladybug could handle herself as evidence by her going toe to toe with the newest villain. In a matter of minutes, the villain was down for the count with no help on their part.

“Ladybug!” He calls before she leaves again, maybe she could help him convince his father that he was being an absolute buffoon.

“Oh it’s you,” She says surprisingly coldly, “What do you want now?”

“Now?”

“Are, you here to attack me again?”

“... I didn’t attack you?” He had spent all morning tracking down a dangerous assassin.

“... Oh! Of course, you did- haha I just ummmm-- there must have been an… Akuma! Yes! There must have been an Akuma earlier that looked like you,”

“An Akuma was impersonating me?” Robin growls.

“Yeah, they do that sometimes,” Chat Noir pipes up, “It’s annoying,”

“Yes and if you’re here, that uh… that means the Akuma is still out there so we gotta go deal with that so-bye!” Ladybug swings off closely followed by Chat Nor; off to go save his name and reputation.

---

“So you really think that was an Akuma?” Adrien asks as they transform back.

“Maybe- I don’t know it was just an excuse so he wouldn't figure out my identity,”

“Well at least he doesn't know it,” Adrien shrugs as they walk through the alleys in search of a new place to rest that night.

“If he doesn't know then why would he attack Marinette?” She asks, “And if it was an Akuma that means Hawkmoth knows my identity which is so much worse!”

“Is it tho?”

“Chat,”

“I mean back in Paris it would have been bad,” They both cringe, “But here we have no home, no family, no friends! He cant use any of that against us now!”

Adrien beams his contagious smile.

“You always manage to find a bright side,” Marinette smirks punching him in the shoulder.

“So that's why,” They both turn around, staring in shock.

“Batman?!” Turning back their way out is already blocked by mister boy wonder. Who, by the way he is glaring at her, was not an Akuma this morning.

“I can't believe Talia called me because some teenagers were eloping,”

I know that name- WAIT!

“Eloping?!” Marinette chokes, “We are not eloping!”

“As in not at all,” Adrien blanches, “And I mean no offense Marinette you are literally the sweetest person but I can’t imagine anything more horrific!”

“Oh god, same!” At least now, “I mean once when we were younger…-- it was a silly crush!”

“Wait you had a crush on me?!”

“Yeah, well, you had a crush on me!”

“... oh god… I did, didn’t I?!”

While Adrien is dealing with that little revelation Marinette looks around for an escape. There isn’t much opportunity since both have their eyes on them, partly out of morbid curiosity at their little freakout. Well if you don't have a distraction homemade is fine.

“AKUMA!” They both look, predictably.

Marinette grabs Adrien and runs. She goes for the side Robins guarding, sweeping his legs sending him crashing to the ground.

“I’m not sorry!” Marinette calls as they sprint down the alley.

Marinette heads for the main street, enough of a crowd to camouflage. As they are walking through as casually as possible Marinette sweeps them both for bugs putting any she finds on random passerbys. They walk sometimes ducking into busy shops in hopes of losing their trail. They come across the mall which works perfectly for them. They stay until it starts to approach closing time, it’s easy enough to avoid security and so they get locked in for the night.

“So what do you want to do?!” They walk through the empty halls Adrien skipping along and looking at each display. Marinette stops outside an electronics store, the tv’s still on and displaying the news.

“Make a plan for a way to deal with that,” On-screen are the two of them, a video of Ladybug throwing a car at Batman, “This is taken completely out of context!”

“What’s the context?”

“Batman was being a little bitch!”

“I’m sure that will hold up in court,” Adrien laughs taking a seat in one of those massage chairs, “Besides what's the problem?”

“The problem?!” Marinette yells, “The problem is that now all of Gotham is going to hate us!”

“So? Do we really need them to like us?” Adrien gets up to stand by her, rubbing her shoulder.

“They did in Paris,”

“We’re not in Paris anymore,” Adrien says quietly, leading her towards the seats, “We have a chance to start new again, everyday something we haven't done before, a couple of pals living day to day on the edge, isn’t that exciting?”

“I just--” want to go home, “I’m tired,”

“Take a break,” Adrien sits her down in the massage chair with a kind smile, “I’ll keep watch,”

“.. ok,” Marinette curls up in the chair Tikki coming to lie beside her. With not much strength to fight it, Marinette falls asleep while she can.

-------------------------

Taglist? nope don’t have one, horrible at keeping track of them sorry~

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug fic #miraculous fanfic #miraculous marinette #Marinette #badass marinette #batfam #daminette #good adrien #slow burn

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kogo-dogo · 3 years

Text

Okay, so people who have only been in the TES fandom from Oblivion or Skyrim onward are really lucky, because I wouldn’t wish the jump from Morrowind to Oblivion on anyone. And I’m very glad the current gen of TES fan is a lot tamer because, hoo boy, I hate Oblivion for a reason and the entire reason is just the baggage it brought with it.

Picture this: I am a young teenager when I am introduced to Morrowind. I spend a lot of time on a forum called Planet Elder Scrolls. By and large, most of the people there are tired modders who’ve been doing it for ages in other games or people who lean more toward the “nerd” criteria than “gamer” criteria. Because this was an age when being a COOL MAINSTREAM GAMER(tm) was relatively… new, I guess? Halo really changed the landscape on that one.

So, it’s a quiet community of modders and nerds who mostly just post screenshots and cringe fic and everyone thinks their Nerevarine is the best and most coolest Nerevarine ever. The biggest argument we have is about mods being lore compliant and, even then, the consensus is “if I want to put my Altmer in assless chaps and a thong, he is GOING to be in assless chaps and a thong. Fuck you.”

This was the era of Westly and AlienSlof and Kikaimegami and we were JUST figuring out who TrainWiz was.

But, when I was sixteen years old, Oblivion was released and there was a… shift. A change we could sense. This was the era where COOL MAINSTREAM GAMING was in its infancy and I don’t think the previous TES fandom was prepared for what that brought to the doorstep. Because, suddenly, it went from “oh my god I can’t wait for Oblivion, look at how alive the world feels!!” to a quiet “we are going to burn this fandom to the ground and start anew.”

Now, I didn’t really go much on the Bethesda forums because they were big and the idea of talking to a dev was intimidating and maybe they handled it better. But PES was small and independent and suddenly there were GAMERBROS everywhere whose bread and butter consisted of starting shit and ignoring rules. Morrowind was ugly and stupid and they didn’t understand why we still played it, and they’d drop into topics about Morrowind and tell us so. Our characters were stupid and didn’t fit lore, but the front page was PLASTERED with meticulously modeled big titty anime demon girls from their Oblivion saves. Oblivion began the MASSIVE BOOB AND SEXY WALK movement, and we were helpless as our screenshot forum suddenly looked like a weird corner of pornhub.

Here’s some of the worst (funniest? Frustrating?) things I remember:

- AlienSlof was an admin for PES and a mod maker who, essentially, was all about making Hot Guy mods… and also horses, for some reason. She liked her dudes to be thotted up before it was cool, and she made her personal mods available publicly in case anyone else wanted their elf boy in a mesh crop top. She was, predictably, not scandalized by Hot Girl mods, though they didn’t appeal to her.

But then the Gamer Bros descended on her, angry that she would dare not make mods tailored for them, making homophobic comments, being general pricks. And it sucked because Slof was also an exhausted thirty-something whose response to this is “I don’t got time for this shit,” and she… delisted everything she ever made.

- There were some who tried to brave Morrowind and every last one of them seemed to completely miss the Dwemer Puzzle Box from the main quest. Morrowind General was flooded with “where box?? CUBE?!?! HELP MODS NO CUBE!!! CuBE?? plz wher box plz?” to the point that one of the mods angrily made an entire screenshot-riddled guide to how to walk into a room and look to your left.

- My last straw was a guy who decided Morrowind was too bland and boring and so his idea was to make a mod that would gut it entirely and rebuild it as some edgy Ashland post-apoc volcano hellscape. Part of his manifesto was changing the racial traits to make more sense, and one of the changes he made was to make Redguards immune to fire, which he specifically pointed out that he did in order to make them “more realistic.” We had to explain to him that melanin did not make you incapable of burning to death.

- Though I was also mad about the theft of Intellectual Property that suddenly sprang up. I had fics I wrote spread wide and far. :(

Unfortunately, a few years after I left, GameSpy (which hosted PES) shuttered. The site eventually redirected to The Nexus and now… well, it’s but a distant memory and so many of the old mods are probably gone, save for some hard drives. I know a lot of them were archived by Fliggerty, but now Fliggerty is also defunct and searching the Morrowind archive is a hassle.

But yeah. There you go. Oblivion was the bane of the TES fandom for a very long time and I’m glad to see we somehow recovered from that shit. Awesome!

#I am bored at work so you get a rant #about TEs #have fun with that #one day I should tell you about some good old mods #and old creative stuff still floating in my head #I am DYING to tell people about captainjordan and his pirate logs

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 3 years

Text

The Killing Cure (Part 19)

It is faintly entertaining to see those little fly beasts greet their mother. They swarm her, quite literally engulfing her in a cloud of flies. They haphazardly smack into her as though she is the only streetlamp on the roadside. Finally their frantic energy comes to a slow and they assemble themselves into their human guises.

Daniela throws her arms around Alcina first, enveloping her in a tight grip. He can see on her face that she is struggling to breathe and more so when Cassandra adds her own hug. “You guys are crushing her!” Bela scolds and they loosen their hold. Alcina exhales.

“Mother, you’re home!” Cassandra beams.

“Yes dear, for the night and then I have to leave again.”

Daniela’s grip tightens once more. “No, mother!”

“I’ll be back before you can miss me.”

“But we miss you right after the door closes, mother.” Bela pouts. Ethan’s stomach twists.

Alcina ruffles the girl’s hair. “Has the Duke been treating you well?”

“Oh yes, he brings us the best food.” Cassandra answers.

“And we get to…” Daniela nudges Bela before she can finish.

“Before you can what? What does he let you do?”

“Nothing mother!” Bela replies, earning herself an eye roll.

And Ethan’s stomach lolls again both with affection and sorrow. It is a delight to see Alcina smiling again--that soft, warm smile that she has reserved for her daughters alone. All the same it is growing harder and harder for him to imagine a future where he gets to hold his own daughter again. Harder for him to imagine a future where he will eventually get to scold her and ask her why she had been out so late or what petty teenage secrets she is keeping from him.

If worse comes to worst, he wonders if Alcina would let him have moments like this with her daughters. It is better than not having them at all.

God, he hopes that his Rose is still alive. Alive and still Rose and not something that this damnable village has warped her into…

“Manthing, come here!” Daniela shouts.

At least he knows that one of them would welcome him to the family if he had no other…

His tummy does another flip. He is thinking as if his daughter is already gone. He can’t afford to think that way. He tries instead to imagine a future where those fly beasts play with his daughter and give her their warped version of what teenhood and young adulthood is all about.

Bela, he notices, still has not let go of Alcina. He isn’t sure that she will.

.oOo.

“I should hate you, I should absolutely loathe you.” She pauses. “And make no mistake, I really do want to. I think about everything you’ve done to my daughters, how you’ve almost killed them, how you’ve hurt them. I think about what you’ve done to me.” She hovers her hand over the spot on her side. “I think about how terribly it still hurts.” He cringes but she continues, “oh, and it works, Winters, I want to flay you alive…”

He takes several steps back, somehow plenty assured that she would be able to find a way if she really wants to. “Then why don’t you?”

“I can’t.” She mumbles. “You’re...thrilling, Winters. I haven’t met a human that has impressed me in a very long time. They’re all the same, mostly.”

He very nearly points out her humanity but he curbs his tongue at the thought of getting flayed alive. “I don’t know, I’m kind of just a man myself.”

“Not quite.” She murmurs. “You have...ambition. You have goals and determination.”

He finds himself soaking the comments in like a sponge, absorbing them until they warm his soul and his cheeks. He doesn’t think that he should let him get used to them though. He imagines that he will say or do something that will earn him twice as many insults.

But the expression on her face remains rather soft. Kinder than he is used to. Truly he finds it hard to understand this woman. This woman who hates him one moment and then cherishes him then next. He wonders if she is like this with everyone she meets or if he makes her feel a special sort of conflict; habit and a comfort zone versus change and adaptation.

She seats herself at the head of the table. “Be a dear, Winters, fetch my daughters and I something to drink.”

Her daughters eye him with excitement.

“What’s the magic word?” He tries with a lopsided smile.

“Go.” She points towards the wine cellar. He supposes that he should be thankful that she is permitting him to enter her treasured cask at all. He stands up and she flashes him one of her smug, self-satisfied smiles.

.oOo.

Her wine doesn’t taste the same and it makes her sick in every way that it can--physically first and then emotionally, realizing that she can no longer stomach such an extraordinary, delectable taste. She supposes that she can still have herself a good blood bath every now and then, the texture is still pleasant, perhaps just not on her tongue. She rifles through her dresser for the most comfortable nightgown she owns. She might as well enjoy it while she has it. When she finds it she carries it to the bathroom. She supposes that she can fill it with the wine that she can no longer drink...

“You used to sing!” Ethan declares from across the adjoining bedroom. Alcina’s face flushes, the man wasn’t supposed to have found that again, he wasn’t supposed to remember it.

“Can you still sing?”

“I haven’t done so in a very long time.”

“You should give it a try.” He grins.

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on mother!” Daniela perks up. “Sing something for us!” She isn't sure when the girls had come to join them. She sighs, having a feeling that her bath will have to wait a little longer. Probably becomes a definitely when The Duke find his way into her room.

“You haven’t sang to us in a long time.” Bela agrees.

“Girls…” She mutters through gritted teeth.

“Just one song, mother?” Cassandra requests.

“Now look what you’ve done.” She glowers at Ethan. But the man looks plenty pleased with himself. “I’ll sing if you can get The Duke to play the piano.” She folds her arms stubbornly across her chest.

“Gladly, m’lady.” The Duke replies. He strolls his way over to the grand piano and shifts in his chair several times until he finds himself a position that he finds to be both comfortable and optimal for reaching the keys. He plays a few test notes. “What are we singing, Miss D?”

Alcina crinkles her noise. “That’s Lady Dimitrescu, to you Duke.”

The man gives a hearty chortle.

She tries to think of a short song, one that she hasn’t forgotten over time. “I will sing Vai Mindruto. You know the cords, yes?”

“Most assuredly, m’lady.” He strikes the first few notes and Alcina inhales deeply. It has been so terribly long since she has sung even a note. Much less since she has sung before a crowd, nevermind that her audience is small and familiar.

.oOo.

What she no longer has in size, Lady Dimitrescu makes up for in presence, demeanor, and volume. With a voice like that she might as well be ten feet tall. Her vocals are smooth and her diction is flawless and powerful.

He had been expecting an uppity jazz number and she has graced them with an operatic ballad. He thinks that this might just be better than what he’d expected. She has a voice that transcends eras. A voice akin to sipping opulent champagne with his free hand clutching the gold filigree railing of a balcony. Her voice has likeness to the warm glow of a diamond chandelier throwing prisms around an otherwise dark and empty ballroom.

It is haunting and elegant and haunting in its elegance.

He observes her daughters as they look upon their mother. Bela is falling asleep on Cassandra’s shoulder as she leans forward to have a better listen. And Daniela buzzes about in a slow, languid sway, dancing with a partner who isn’t there at all.

Alcina herself stands with her eyes closed and her head tilted up, perhaps imagining herself at another place and in another time entirely. For the first time in a while she looks to be at peace. And just when he thinks that the song is reaching its peak, it reaches its end. He resents that it had been so short. The air is still charged with energy several minutes after the last ghost of a note tapers off down the hallway. Still charming even now that the room is fully silent.

Her hands fall back to her sides and she opens her eyes. Daniela gives several absurdly loud claps and Bela bolts upright with a disgruntled grumble. The Duke stands up and stretches, “it’s always a pleasure to do a number with you, Lady Dimitrescu.” He clicks his tongue. “A lovely voice for a lovely lady.”

She clears her throat, “thank you Duke.”

“Why did you stop singing?” Ethan asks.

She furrows her brows. “Mother Miranda says that it is a waste of time.”

The more he hears of that woman, the more he resents her. “Do you enjoy singing?”

Alcina hums as she ponders the question, that in itself is answer enough. Finally she nods, “well enough, yes.”

“Then it isn’t a waste of time.” Ethan flashes her a smile. “It makes your girls happy too.”

It makes him happy.

#Alcina Dimitrescu #Lady Dimitrescu #Ethan Winters #Alcina/Ethan #Fanfiction

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sarnie-for-varney · 3 years

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in9 moments that haunt you? 👀

Thank you @lapis-lazuliie for the suggestion!

THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS!!

Series 1:

The Understudy - The scene at the end when Kirstie admits to all the stuff she's done. I'm not sure why, but its SO unsettling. Especially even she says "I'm always watching" ✋🏻😨

The Harrowing - The end scene honestly scares me so much. When she's screaming and mostly naked, it's just so disturbing to me. The fact that she's playing a teenager and she's in that plight just makes my stomach turn. I know the actor probably isn't a teen but uGHHH its gross 😂

Series 2:

Cold Comfort - This whole episode made me feel super uneasy and uncomfortable. I think it's super unsettling to see George actually SPEAKING as Chloe. Like that is disturbing, especially because we know how much it's affecting Andy's mental health. Also the darkened office scenes, I was fREAKED out. I thought something was gonna jump out. The whole CCTV camera thing was eerie, honestly

Series 3:

The Devil of Christmas - Do I even need to expand on this one? That end scene is one that will forever terrify me. Because as the director says, you can really see the genuine fear on her face as she realises it's real. (Obviously it's still acting, but it's a whole other thing to act badly on purpose and then make it seem so genuine). And just... the disturbing concept that she's surrounded by all these sick and twisted people as she's being killed. Freaking horrifying.

The Riddle of The Sphinx - Honestly, I was already uncomfortable when Squires starts... touching her while she's vulnerable but that wasn't even the worst part! When Tyler cuts that cHUNK out of her, and knowing she can still feel pain but can't even react is just the most awful thing ever. And then watching Squires eat it 🤢🤢. THEN HE FINDS OUT ITS HIS DAUGHTER OMFG- IT'S A SHIT SHOW!!

Diddle Diddle Dumpling - I really don't talk about this episode often, but the ending really made me think. When we find out that he did all this because of his lost child, I was like bRO- but then finding out he mURDERED that guy. I was like 😱

Series 4:

To Have and To Hold - I'm not sure why but there's something so unsettling about Adrian feeding that woman a Pot Noodle and then unzipping his trousers. Honestly glad he fell down those stairs, ngl

Tempting Fate - AHHH when Maz gets that sPIKE in her head omfg I almost vomited. But when Nick wished for Charlie's recovery, I was like oh GOD NO-

Deadline - This whole episode scared the shit out of me. The way they broke the fourth wall with it. I was watching it on iPlayer and it still tricked me, I'm not even kidding. And when they went back to the A Quiet Night In, and the strange ENTITY- I shat myself.

Series 5:

Death Be Not Proud - I know this was a tribute to Psychoville and it wasn't really that scary but like... when he's about to plop that baby into the boiling water, I was like MATERNAL MODE: ACTIVATED! The way I cRINGED as it got closer to the boiling pot, my face looked like I'd sucked a lemon.

Thinking Out Loud - Most of this episode was unsettling to me. It's one of my favourite episodes, but one of the most terrifying. Galen is a SCARY character and the way he looks at the screen, completely lifeless and interacts with us. The fucking jumpscare too, I was like 'rEALLY?!'. But it was unsettling also when the music builds up as Nadia starts to understand that none of these people exist, and she's just one person. AND again, the ending was just jarring. The way Galen appears and murders Bill, but then Nadia steps back covered in blood. Gosh, actual chills!

The Stakeout - AHHH this one, cHRIST! That dagger going ALL the way into his neck, nO- sorry, I cannot handle gore and my toes curled. And the way the feeding scene seemed to go on for so long, it was sooo haunting!

Series 6:

Wuthering Heist - My jaw dropped when Pantalone sliced Collie's throat, and just the way she fell to the ground and reached out for help. How the others just stared at her as she died, it was quite disturbing. (Also what Scaramouche was going to that gun, but we'll skip past that)

Simon Says - Do I really need to elaborate? "We don't want him looking at us, do we?" YEESH-

How Do You Plead? - I know this episode was all Dr. Faustus-y with Lucifer and like... evil things but that kid choking up that orange? Gross and horrifying.

Last Night of The Proms - Three words: The Sailor's Hornpipe. Yeah... because this was the episode I chose to watch with my dad. The murder didn't bother me, and neither did Brian's groping but when Penny starting throwing it back... nah-

I hope that answered your question!

#ask #asks #ask response #question #questions #suggestion #suggestions #lapis-lazuliie #inside no.9 #in9

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sanchoyo · 3 years

Text

danny phantom season 2, ep 12-16 thoughts! these episodes, in comparison to the first 10 or so, felt way more laid back and low-stakes, which I appreciate sometimes. I didn't appreciate how lazy jack's halfa design was in masters of time, it made me so annoyed I redesigned it. 👎🏻 u_u

see prev episode thoughts in this tag <3

-'picking a fight with me and my upgraded form!' 'you upgraded to a mullet?' DANNNNY. YOU CANT SAY THAT TO TECHNUS. YOUVE HAD A MULLET TWICE NOW ('fun' split danny, and evil future danny BOTH HAD THEM). I HAVE THE RECEIPTS.

-danny seeing technus hurting valerie and yelling I AM GOING TO BREAK YOU IN HALF. SAMEEEE <3

-axion labs is now a part of vladco. FUCK YOU VLAD. hes not even really IN this episode, but just thought I'd throw out a nice fuck you anyway.

-'capable of blasting a single person into space in (2) minutes!' tucker. that would kill someone. i mean yeah they might get to space, but theres NO WAY THEY WOULDNT CATCH FIRE, OR THEIR ORGANS WOULDNT LIQUIFY BECAUSE OF THE STRAIN. THEY'D PROBABLY PASS OUT BEFORE THEN, BUT. ...no, okay, I get why vlad bought this company. this is RIGHT up his alley.

-danny KNOWS VAL DIDNT DO THIS, THAT SOMEONE STOLE THE SUIT. AND SPENDING ALL NIGHT CHATTING WITH HER. <3 and val is a 9TH DEGREE BLACKBELT?? danny's mom is, too!! omg and she hunts ghosts, his parents would love her. and her fav fruit is kumquat bc its a funny word. im so with danny val is amazing. I love her and I Do Not Want To Hear It From Sam.

-I knew danny wanted to be an astronaut, but the bowling tidbit is like. yes give me more useless info abt these characters, I love tiny details that make them feel more human, and im glad hes got hobbies aside from ghost stuff, we dont really see a lot of that!!! (I mean, we knew 'fun' danny from when he split himself in half liked bowling, so obv it makes sense he LIKES it, but hes very GOOD at it. so proud of him, bowling king) val calling him neil armstrong and them teasing each other. LOVE THAT.

-technus you are my favorite grandpa for setting this up. SAM WHY ARE YOU BEING SO CREEPY BE HAPPY FOR YOUR FRIEND!!! STOP SPYING ON THEM!!! who actually cares if technus did 'set them up' together, theyre having fun and enjoy each others company!!! 'you think the universe wants you two to be together?' 'i dunno, but maybe /I/ do!' EXACTLY DANNY!!! SOO TRUE.

-and valerie being happy sam said she wants to try and be happy for them and make room at the lunch table for them. and hugging sam over it. VAL NEEDS MORE FRIENDS.

-VAL GOING AFTER TECHNUS IN HER SUIT WITH (1) MILK, AND (1) TREE BRANCH AND KEYS!!!. I LOVE YOUUUU BEST GIRL. her new suit kicks ass

-dannys like 'HEY IM AN ASTRONAUT :D' AW. ...HES IN SPACE... the fact he's actually intending to give her the ring. with SAMS NAME ON IT?? IM CRINGING DANNY NO. YOU CANT DO THAT...thank god he didnt. thank god valerie cut it off and said they can just stay friends for now. tbh, they both have a lot on their plates!! they obv both still like each other...it can be a future thing!! when she knows about phantom! youre 14 theres no need to rush. I just want her to have friends and be happy :(

-...danny struggles to do (1) pull up. SAME. but all the ghost fighting in phantom form REALLY doesnt carry over at ALL? that sucks

-sam being as fit as she is, is not just a goth. shes a goth jock.

-honey I Shrank Our Kid, One of his Enemies, and his Bully: the episode

-dash's crush on phantom is So Obvious. fitness buddies :) watching them interact always makes me laugh. also, phantom, with PANTS. 'how many costume changes you gonna go through, what is this, vegas??' DASSH DJKSFHASKDF

-MADDIE GOING AFTER THE MOUSE WITH A BROOM, WHAT THE FUCK. AAAH. JUST BUY SOME KIND OF MOUSE TRAP.

-danny likes lime and vinegar chips. which sound very good.

-'our boy finally has the physical prowess of a 60 year old president!' ...poor danny LMAO

-'what's wrong with beauty pageants' oh tucker you sweet naïve child. what ISNT wrong with them. who approved this for a high school?? (I mean, yes. unfortunately child pageants exist, but...) also danny and tucker once again treating the pretty girls like objects. I need to meet the grown man who wrote this, I just want to talk...

-prince aragon's dragon form reminds me of maleficent (color scheme wise) which is always a bonus. considering the episode is called beauty marked, I feel like the sleeping beauty references are deliberate

-sam with the fake fangs. once again her accessories never miss. hate the 'not like other girls, girls who get sucked into this kind of thing are all shallow and all want to be carbon copies' bs tho.

-sam trying to be the Worst Bride, being rude as shit. DORA IS GOING TO GET KILLED. DID YOU MISS THE PART WHERE SHE SAID THE PRINCE WILL HAVE HER HEAD IF YOU ARENT THE IDEAL BRIDE. YOU /KNOW/ DANNY WILL COME SAVE YOU. JUST ACT CHILL UNTIL THEN. even if you were doing fine to get him to take off the crown, consider maybe not letting his poor sister get punished also?? sure, she could also take off the crown and has dragon powers, but did you know that for sure?? dora didnt even really realize it until you guys talked!! (or at least, she was scared to stand up to him. you had no guarantee she would...) but. good for dora. ANOTHER friendly ghost to add to the List :)

-tucker is so under appreciated in his time. if he was doing a tech-based campaign today he'd have a better shot. people in 2004 had NO IDEA how much tech would be a part of our day-to-day lives...altho. tbh if you're going to be running for student council president, maybe you should..focus on things to actually improve the school? since he's going for a tech angle, he could say like, he would be running fundraisers for the schools computers to be upgraded, etc? we've already SEEN he can be good at money-making entrepreneur type stuff!!

-oh my god wait. this episode is JUST YUGIOH?????! A REBORN PHAROH USING A TEENAGER AS A VESSEL?? YESSSSSS

-tucker using his new minion to feed him grapes and carry him. AND LOCUSTS ONTO THE BULLIES. I love how when he's possessed, he gains winged eyeliner.

-this episode is giving me big 'plankton makes everyone in bikini bottom his slaves and build monuments of him from the spongebob movie' vibes. and the pharaoh has a traitor who works for him? VERY big yugioh vibes. aknadin confirmed

-I like that danny is still completely exhausted after using ghostly wail. (still patiently waiting on him to get duplication)

-LOVE the fenton's 80s outfits. I get hes 14 and embarrassed by everything they do because theyre his parents, but. cmon, this is one objectively cool thing theyve done. love 80s fashion.

-...was vlad just standing on that streetlight waiting for danny to come out? how'd he know they'd be coming out the back? how long has he been up there???

-oh, wait, his ecto-acne has flareups? that SUCKS. danny was...well I dont want to say he was LUCKY HE HALF-DIED, but he was lucky his was pretty instant (I'm assuming that had to do with the power/scale of the portals being different?) I remember in the ep we met him, vlad made a point of saying he was stuck in a hospital for a long time, so. that really actually sucks and I feel bad. not that it excuses anything he's done...but like. it does suck.

-vlad being so sure danny wouldnt help him he made it somehow contagious to his friends to make sure he'd get help? danny is a nice boy, he wouldve helped if it was anyone else. the only reason he wouldn't have is because of the shit vlad did to him, on purpose. vlad 100% dug his own grave by being the biggest asshole, so it is very hard to feel bad for him.

-clockwork is back!!! and making danny learn lessons The Hard Way. Uhhh, okay. I kind of get Danny’s logic, that time traveling this far back would prevent vlad from becoming a halfa also, ergo no arch nemesis or ectoacne to worry about. But the fact that was basically the first solution Danny came up with to solve this problem is actually so funny. It’s so extreme

-APPRICIATION FOR THESE 80S LESBIAN BG CHARACTERS.

-vlad telling maddie in the lab (in the 80s) he has something he's wanted to tell her 'for a long time'...how long have they known each other? I assumed they met in college, since jack always calls vlad his college buddy/roommate, so jack and vlad for sure met in college, but did vlad know maddie longer? thats surprising if so. Tho we don’t know what year of college they’re in so they could mean they met as freshmen and a few years have past…speaking of maddie shes crushing the 80s look.

-vlad blames jack, but. maybe dont stick your face 2 inches from the portal??! THIS FEELS LIKE LAB SAFETY BASICS. IF SOMETHING HAS POTENTIAL TO BE DANGEROUS, DONT GET NEAR IT. WITH YOUR FACE UNPROTECTED IN ANY WAY. (altho jack didnt really give a Big Warning besides screaming BONZAI. so. also that, but cmon.) also, they need gloves, goggles, and to pull all of their hair back tbh. but fuck lab safety, I guess!

-cryyyyinnng at how lazy they were with jack's ghost form design, its just plasmius' design on jack!!! you couldve given him his own design!!

-there. I did that in about 10 minutes and its somehow less lazy than what made it into the show. embarrassing! better yet, I think the episode would've been better if maddie would've gotten the ectoacne. or maybe its just me, wanting to see her design! anyway. I'm sure people have already done redesigns of them both as halfas. I have to go look after I finish this watch through. Also mildly frustrated jacks resentment and bitterness is basically also a copy paste of vlads backstory. They’re different characters, I really don’t think jack would stew in bitterness and jealousy the same way vlad would!! I also don’t think he’d give up after one time of trying to hunt ghosts and getting laughed at. Our canon timeline says different…I dunno, I get it was for laughs, but I’m annoyed because the POTENTIAL this plot has…

-did vlad really wear a stupid cheese hat to his wedding. ok actually that kinda rules. and the cheese door knocker. the dairy-only buffet table. vlad still got rich, just on being the New Dairy King. (Assuming that means he owns a lot of dairy businesses?) ok! this actually is great. hope maddie isn't lactose intolerant!

-'no matter how hard I tried, I could never get rid of my ghost half, the half I knew Maddie could never accept' ohh, ouch, what a horrible thing to say to her HALF GHOST SON. 'YOUR MOM WILL NEVER ACCEPT YOU' BASICALLY.

-maddie strapping danny to the table with a lazer pointed at him in a secret lab she keeps from vlad that she makes a point of saying is sound proof so he can scream all he wants...CHRIST. DANNYS POOR PYSCHE.

-also, not to feel bad for alternate vlad (because, he did lie to maddie saying jack blames her and never wants to see her again...) but. being married to a woman 20+ years and she immediately goes back to jack? if she didnt love vlad and feels like she had to hide shit from him, and says she wasted her best years with him, WHY MARRY HIM. it feels like leading him on!!! cannot believe im feeling bad for vlad, but. this alternate timeline vlad is significantly Less Horrible than Our Vlad. did she not think she'd get funding for her ghost stuff? (which, fair assumption since they're considered 'ghost fanatics/nuts in canon...but...) why did she think jack or vlad would be her ONLY OPTIONS? be like your sister. be single. Actually, this au could’ve been really interesting if after the accident, vlad lied to her and said jack never wanted to see her again, but she stays single. Imagine how much that would bug vlad… like, in her mind, it was never a competition it was jack or no one type situation…

-danny being like 'leave him ALONE' this jack is a HOMEWRECKER, DANNY. let them go to court and settle this at the least. ...or just throw vlad into the portal. (100% human, defenseless vlad) CHRIST, MADDIE THATS BRUTAL. THATS MURDER.

-danny seeing his mom immediately accepting him and his dad being half ghosts in this universe, if I was him this would be a great sign that his universe's maddie would also.

-*maddie voice* "clockwork will help!" *2 seconds later, with clockwork* "I will Not Help." TOUGH LOVE KING. YES LET DANNY SEE THE SODA HIMSELF AND DEVOLP BETTER OBSERVATION SKILLS.

-when clockwork ""reset time to the way it was"" just before danny "meddled"" ...did he really erase a whole alternate timeline? ...damn. because maddie and danny both called it an alternate timeline by name, it splitting when the college incident went different, so it wouldnt have really mattered if he reset it, right. like because danny's timeline is on a different stream? why didnt clockwork just. show danny a replay and not Reset That Timeline. wh...I wonder how many people that Erased From Existence. Anyway! once again stating clockwork is casually terrifying!

#danny phantom #dp thoughts #sanchoyorambles

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mellometal · 3 years

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gurrrrrrl i love your dhar mann posts. ive seen some youtubers call him out for cringe but you are the only one who calls out his racism. if you watch his videos you usually see black kids being portrayed as bullies to the white ones or asains being portrayed as smart. not to mention the portrayal of women - their eithr housewives-esque women submissive to their husbands or 'bitchy' sluts that act spoiled, and are usually punished for not liking the boy...it just reads like a terrible incel fanfiction

Hello, anon! Thank you for sending this in. ^.^

There are definitely more people who do call out his racism in those videos, and they did this before I called him out on it, so I'm not the only one. (Did you mean on here or in general?)

Being a white woman, I will never know what BIPOC or AAPI go through on a daily basis. What they go through in general is horrible and I wouldn't wish that on anyone. That doesn't stop me from educating myself about what they go through, reading up on their histories, sharing things about BIPOC and AAPI historical figures and their impacts on the world, supporting BIPOC and AAPI creators, speaking out against racism, signing petitions, sharing resources with people who may need them, and calling out racism in general.

His videos with disabled people are pretty ableist too, which is what really infuriated me, as a disabled woman who works with disabled people for a living. The video he made about Autism Spectrum Disorder especially was so insulting, filled with misinformation, and so ableist, that it felt like he was treating being autistic like it was a bad thing. It's not a bad thing to be autistic. I'm autistic. I was diagnosed when I was sixteen (when it was still referred to as A$p3rg3r'$ $yndr0m3), but never was open about it until this year. That kind of rhetoric was one of the factors that made me mask for seven years.

A lot of times, he doesn't cast a physically disabled actor for physically disabled characters. He just gives a couple of the child actors crutches. This is a reoccurring thing in the entertainment industry as a whole. Glee is another example of an able-bodied actor being cast as a physically disabled character. (I hate that show for a plethora of reasons. The fact they didn't bother to cast a physically disabled actor for the role of a physically disabled character is one of them.) I very rarely see physically disabled actors in media. Specifically, younger physically disabled actors. That needs to change. At least for live-action media. I'm sure the physically disabled kids would be happy to see actors who are like them. I've seen a lot of physically disabled characters in cartoons, which is great! I encourage them to make more physically disabled characters in cartoons. I don't see too many in anime either, so hopefully that'll change too.

The way Dhar Mann portrays BIPOC and AAPI in general makes me sick looking at it. He either paints black people as total damsels in distress or makes them big bullies. When Karen, the racist and ableist soccer mom™️ is being racist towards her son's friend and assuming the worst of him, it turns out that kid has rich parents! (Totally unrealistic too.) She goes on the whole, "I'm sorry for judging you before I got to know you!" shit instead of saying, "Hey, I'm sorry for being a racist bigot towards you and believing in gross stereotypes about black people."

Painting black people as "thugs" who all are in gangs and steal stuff is so incorrect. I'm sure that people who think like this get their pseudo education from watching movies with black people in them or rap music and get the impression that they're all like that. Like, no. Don't believe everything you see on the big screen. Not to mention how they targeted a black kid as a suspect for drugs in a video, when the real suspect turned out to be a white kid. They do that in real life A LOT. It's nauseating.

Selling drugs and stuff isn't an inherently bad thing. Not ideal, but some people don't exactly have any other choice except to sell drugs. Doing drugs doesn't mean you're a bad person. That kind of stuff hits home for me. Being brought up by parents who both did drugs, being around people who do drugs, and having friends who do drugs, I don't see people who do drugs as inherently bad people. They need to be treated with decency and like human beings, not like aggressive animals.

The whole "Asians are geniuses" stereotype is damaging. It's bad enough that Asians as a whole have all these ridiculous expectations put on them. Pretty gross and harmful stereotypes! Saying that all Asians are geniuses isn't a compliment to them. Yes, you can praise their work all you want, but don't treat them like they're attractions at a zoo. They're not robots. They're real human beings with their own thoughts, opinions, feelings, emotions, families, friends, jobs, issues, etc.

A YouTuber named Jarvis Johnson is an example of a person calling out Dhar Mann's racism in his videos. If you want to see them through a black person's perspective, definitely check Jarvis out. He's a great content creator and he definitely deserves more subscribers.

Oh my god, don't even get me started on the "sugar daddy" videos. There are so many of them, I don't know where to begin with tearing them apart. They're so BAD. Dhar Mann paints almost all of his so-called "morals" at the end of his videos with "Don't judge a book by its cover! uwu" instead of actually addressing the real issues in the video. He never bothers to address how people think money can buy you happiness. I mean, it can, to an extent, but only so much.

He recently made a video about a gay teenage boy in sports, his coach was being all homophobic, kicked him off the team, etc. First off, if that happened in real life, that school AND the coach would get sued for discrimination and the coach would most likely lose their job.

The fatphobia in some of his videos is fucking gross too, speaking as a bigger woman. One of the child actors was literally put in a fat suit in a "flashback". I mean, they do have fat actors. They have fat child actors too. Wouldn't it make sense to hire fat actors for fat characters? He's done that for another video he made about a girl getting bullied for her weight. (Fat suits are fatphobic.)

I feel bad for all the actors in those videos. I'm sure none of them vibe with the scripts. I hope they actually get roles in better things.

#anon #answered #dhar mann talk #tw racial violence mention #tw racism mention #tw ableism mention #tw homophobia mention #tw fatphobia mention #tw drug mention #dhar mann will live to regret his decision to make these fucked up cringe videos #dhar mann will live to regret his decision uwu #please stop supporting dhar mann #those actors deserve better #dhar mann is a piece of human garbage #tw dhar mann

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adorpheus · 4 years

Text

on fujoshi and fetishization

Lately, more and more, both here on tumblr and on other sites, I keep seeing people spew unfiltered hatred at fujoshi - that is, women who like mlm content such as gay fanfic and fanart featuring men with other men. And I don’t mean like a specific type of fujoshi, like the ones who are genuinely being weird about it, but just like a general hatred for girls (but especially straight identifying girls) who express love for gay romance.

I hate to break this to you all, but women (including straight women!) actually are allowed to like mlm fanfiction and fanart, even enthusiastically so. A woman simply expressing her love of gay fanfic, even if it is in kind of a cringey way or a way that you personally don’t like, is NOT automatically fetishization.

I’ve been on the receiving end of fetishization for my entire life, from a very young age, as many black and brown folx have, so I consider myself pretty well acquainted with how it works. Fetishization isn’t just like, being really into drawings of boys kissing, or whatever the fuck y’all are trying to imply on this god forsaken site.

Fetishization is complicated imo, and can encompass a lot of things, such as (but not limited to):

1 - dehumanization, e.g. viewing a group of people as sexual objects who exist purely for entertainment purposes, rather than acknowledging them as actual people who deserve respect and rights

and

2 - projecting certain assumptions onto said people based on their race/sexuality/whatever is being fetishized. These assumptions are often, but not always, sexual in nature (like the idea that black people in general are more sexual than other races, etc etc etc).

I’m going to use myself as an example to illustrate my point. Please note this isn’t the best or most nuanced example, but it is the most simplistic. A white person finding me attractive and respectfully appreciating my black features as part of what makes me beautiful is not, on its own, fetishization. A white person finding me attractive solely or mostly because I’m a PoC is now in fetishization territory. Similarly, assuming I’m dominant because of my blackness (like saying “step on me mommy” and shit like that) is hella fetishistic.

That being said, theres definitely a difference between how fetishization works in real life with real people, and how it shows up in fandom.

Fetishization manifests in many different ways in fandom, but most commonly on the mlm side of things, I personally see it appear as conservative (or centrist) women who love the idea of two men together, but don’t actually like gay people, and don’t necessarily think LGBT+ people deserve rights (or “special treatment” as its sometimes dog whistled). These women view queer men as sexual objects for entertainment rather than an actual group of people who deserve to be protected from systemic oppression. I’ve noticed that they often don’t even think of the men they “ship” together as actually being gay, and may even express disgust at the idea of a character in an mlm ship being headcanon’d gay. In case its not obvious, this is pretty much exactly the same way a lot of cishet men fetishize lesbians (they see “lesbian” as a porn category, rather than like, what actual LGBT people think of when we read the word lesbian). There’s a pretty popular viral tweet thread going around where someone explains seeing this trend of conservative women who like mlm stuff, and I have also personally witnessed this phenomenon myself in more than one fandom.

The funny thing is, maybe its just me buuuut.... The place I see this particular kind of fetishization happen most is not in the anime/BL fandom, from which the term fujoshi originates - I actually see these type of women way way more in western fandom spaces like Supernatural, Harry Potter, and Hannibal. I can’t stress this enough, there’s a shocking amount of people who are like, straight up trump supporters in these fandoms. If you want to experience it, try joining a Hannigram or Destiel group on facebook and you will probably encounter one eventually especially if you happen to be living through a major historical event. Like these women probably wouldn’t even be considered “fujoshi”, because that term doesn’t really apply to them given they aren’t in the BL/anime fandom, yet they’re the ones I personally see actually doing the most harm.

Of course this isn’t the ONLY kind of fetishizing woman in the mlm/BL world, there are other ways fetishization shows up, but this is the most toxic kind that I see.

A girl just being really into BL or whatever may be “cringe” to you, or she may be expressing her love for BL in a “cringey” way, but a straight woman really enjoying BL is not, on its own, somehow inherently fetishization. Yes, sometimes teenage girls act kind of cringe about how much they like BL and that might be annoying to you, but its not necessarily ~problematic~.

That being said, IT NEEDS BE REMARKED that a lot of the “fujoshi” that you all hate so deeply, are actually closeted trans men or nonbinary people who haven’t yet come to terms with their gender identity, or are otherwise just NOT cishet. I know because I was one of these closeted people for years, and I honestly think tumblr and the cultural obsession around purity is one of the many reasons I was closeted so deeply for so long. STORYTIME LOL!!! In my early adolescence, I was a sort of proto “fujoshi”. I identified as a bi girl who was mostly attracted to men, or as most (biphobic) people called it, “practically straight”. I wrote and read “slash” fanfic and looked at as well as drew my own fanart. We didn’t use the term fujoshi back then, but that’s definitely how I could have been described. I was obsessed with yaoi, BL, whatever you want to call it, to a cringe-inducing degree. I really struggled to relate to most het romances, so when I first discovered yaoi fanfics (as we called them at the time), I fell in love and felt like I finally found the type of romance content that was made for me. I didn’t know exactly why, I just knew it hit different. LGBT+ fanart and fanfiction brought me an immense amount of joy, and I didn’t really think too hard about why.

At some point, in my early 20s, after reading lots of discourse™ here on tumblr and other places like twitter, I started to get the sinking feeling that my passion for gay fanfiction was ~problematic~. I had always felt a sense of guilt for being into mlm content, because literally anyone who found out I liked BL (especially the men I dated) shamed me for liking it all the fucking time (which btw is literally just homophobic, like can we talk about that?). In addition to THAT bullshit, now I’m seeing posts telling me that girls who like BL are cringey gross fetishists who inspire rage and should go die?

Let me tell you, I internalized the fuck out of messages like this. I desperately wanted to avoid being ~problematic~. At the time, I thought being problematic was like the worst thing you could be. I was terrified of being “cancelled”, before canceling was even really a thing. I thought to myself, “oh my god, I’m gross for liking this stuff? I should stop.” I beat myself up over this. I wanted so badly to be accepted, and to be deemed a Good Person by the internet and society at large.

I tried to shape up and become a good ally (lmfao). I stopped writing fanfic and deleted all the ones I was working on at the time. I made a concerted effort to assimilate into cishet culture, including trying to indulge myself more deeply in the few fandoms I could find that had het content I did enjoy (Buffy, True Blood, Pretty Little Liars, etc). I would occasionally look at BL/fanfic/etc in private, but then I would repress my interest in it and not look for a while. Instead I would look at women in straight relationships, and create extremely heterosexual Couple Goals pinterest boards, and try to figure out how I could become more like these women, so I, too, could be loved someday.

This cycle of repression lasted like eight years. Throughout it all, I was performing womanhood to the best of my ability and trying to become a woman that was worthy of being in a relationship. I went in and out of several “straight” relationships, wondering why they didn’t make me feel the way reading fanfic did. Most of all, I couldn’t figure out why straight intimacy didn’t work for me. I just didn’t enjoy it. I always preferred looking at or making gay fanfiction/fanart over actual intimacy with men in real life.

Eventually, I stumbled upon a trans coming out video that someone I was following posted online, my egg started to crack, and to make an extremely long story short, after like 3 years of introspection and many gender panic attacks that I still experience to this day, I realized that I’m uh... MAYBE... NOT CIS..!? :|

I truly believe if I had just been ALLOWED TO LIKE GAY STUFF WITHOUT BEING SHAMED FOR IT, I probably would have realized I was trans way way sooner. Because for me, indulging in my love of gay romance and writing gay fanfic wasn’t me being a weirdo fetishist, it was actually me exploring my own gender identity. It is what helped me come to terms with being a nonbinary trans boy.

Not everyone realizes they are trans at age 2 or whatever the fuck. Sometimes you have to go through a cringey fujoshi phase and multiple existential crises to realize how fucking gay you are AND THATS FINE.

And one more thing - can we just be real here?

A lot of anti-fujoshi sentiment is literally just misogyny. omg please realize this. Its “women aren’t allowed to enjoy things” but, like... with gay fanfics. Some of the anti-fujoshi posts I see come across my dash are clearly ppl projecting a caricature they invented in their head of a demonic fujoshi fetishist onto any woman who expresses what they consider to be a little too much enthusiasm for gay content and then using their perception of that individual as an excuse to justify their disdain for any women, especially straight women, ‘invading’ their ~oh so exclusive~ queer fandom spaces.

god get over yrselfs this is gatekeeping by another name

idk why i spent so long writing this no one is even going to read it, does anyone even still use this site

*EDIT: HOLY SHIT WHEN DOING RESEARCH FOR THIS POST I FOUND OUT THAT Y-GALLERY IS BACK OMG!!!

#rant #fujoshi #I SAID WHAT I SAID #personal #gender stuff

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starkeristheendgame · 4 years

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I would love to read something about peter accidentally stealing a piece of Tony’s clothing without either of them noticing, but it’s something extremely valuable and everyone else (like maybe peters friends from collage or something) notice and are very confused. Would you write something like this? (It’s totally fine if not)

This was the actual cutest idea, and I loved writing this! I hope this is the kind of cute-awkward you were going for. Thank you sm for sending me this, honey! I’m an absolute sucker for clothes sharing. This begins as unest and is AU from AOU+. Peter is 18+

The first time it happened, it was a slate grey shirt with silver-leaf decor, the front brazenly depicting a boy with a wolf’s muzzle face. There was an oil stain on the right sleeve where it fluttered about his bicep, and a charred hole on the hem where Tony had skewered it with a soldering iron. Peter had just lost his own shirt to a grinding machine, and had accepted the shirt that Tony had offered him thoughtlessly, promising to bring it back on his next visit.

Tony had waved him off and told him not to worry - The shirt was old and he had plenty others. Peter had thought nothing of it, not bothering to change as he collapsed into his bed. He had an early lecture in the coming morning, and he’d overstayed at Tony’s. Again.

He still lacked any thought on it when he awoke to his final alarm shrieking at him insistently, and he scrambled out of bed, nearly swallowing his toothbrush as he floundered to get ready. He skid to a halt in front of his bedroom mirror, eyed what he’d gone to sleep in, and deemed it acceptable. The shirt was clean - He’d only worn it to bed that night, and his jeans surprisingly matched it well.

It was like any other morning, until he’d been in line at the lunch hall for a coffee, and the girl walking past had stuttered to a halt, eyes wide. “Oh, my, God. Is that a Yohji Yamamoto?!” She’d squealed, eyes wide and round, and Peter had blinked across at her, sleep-dead and at a loss. “That thing is like, a thousand dollars! Its limited edition!” She continued, and Peter glanced down, ready to defend his piece of shit shirt.

Except.

It wasn’t just a piece of shit, ratty old shirt, was it? No, because it had come from billionaire Tony Stark’s closet. He cringed, lip curling as he stared at the shimmering silver pattern. Ah, fuck. How could he explain this? Several people had noticed her loud speech and were staring, curiosity piqued. And, why wouldn’t they? Scruffy Peter Parker in a thousand dollar shirt.

“I don’t think so” he barked nervously, before his brain had even come up with a plausible explanation. “I got this at a thrift store! Yeah. A thrift store, so. I mean, if it looks like some fancy shirt, its definitely a knock off” he laughed nervously, clamouring desperately for his coffee before he cast her an awkward smile and shuffled off, fleeing the lunch hall.

Luckily, he had an old zip-up in his bag, and he tugged it on over the shirt. It meant he boiled in his last classes, but nobody else asked him about his thousand dollar shirt. He drove home with the windows down and the AC on, and when he pulled up outside his apartment, he paused, and rummaged for his phone. It took almost ten minutes to find the shirt he was wearing, but when he did, he sucked in air through his teeth and shoved his phone away. Yikes. A thousand? Closer to two thousand.

The second time it happened, Peter had been to breakfast with Tony before classes. The older man had presented him with a beautiful custom Rolex, complete with deep, red rubies and rich blue kyanite. An early birthday present Tony had said, clasping it around his wrist with a warm, satisfied smirk. Peter’s birthday was months away, but Tony wouldn’t hear anything of it.

He’d grown so used to the weight of it in between eating and talking that he’d completely forgotten about it by the time he arrived at his morning study session, sinking down at the library table and pulling out his books. MJ was already there, and Peter offered her a shy smile as he kicked his bag under the table. They were tentative friends after getting to know each other near the end of their final year, and though Peter had outgrown his initial crush, he was still glad she’d gone to the same college as him and Ned.

He was just pulling out a pen from his case when MJ shifted. “Hey, nerd. What’s on your wrist?” And Peter’s heart seized then skipped when he cast a careless glance aside and watched the sharp halogen lights glint off the brand new gold and precious stones. His first thought was ‘aw, fuck. Not again’ and then his second was ‘how the fuck can I explain a Rolex that costs more than this building?’

“Fake!” He yelped, and ducked his head when a sprightly girl two tables across leaned forwards to glare at him. “I mean, y’know. My Aunt...Bought it for me. Thought she’d found a real Rolex on Ebay for $40, y’know? Ha. Some people” he coughed to clear his throat and to hide the fact that his voice had risen several pitches before he reached for his wrist, tugging his sleeve down over it.

When he looked up, she levelled him with a flat, unimpressed look that clearly stated she thought he was a few marbles short. He spent the rest of the study session twitchy and tense, and she spent the rest of it reading and glancing at him now and then like she was afraid he might start frothing at the mouth. When the hour was finally over, Peter ran back to his car, wrapped the watch in several soft tissues from the restroom and hid it in the glove compartment.

MJ didn’t mention the lack of watch, but she did pointedly stare at his arm for the rest of the day. It made him prickly and jumpy; a thousand worst-case scenarios running through his mind. Nobody knew he was Spiderman, and since joining college he’d done his best to keep the ‘Stark Industries Internship’ thing on the down-low. That was relatively easy, since most people hadn’t believed it in the first place. As for Spiderman - The only people who knew were May and Ned. He kind of intended to keep it that way for as long as possible.

He was vigilant then, for the next few weeks. He inspected himself carefully before getting out of his car at college, and he always made sure to remind Ned to remind him any time he wore anything that a struggling college student wouldn’t. All in all, after three months had passed with only a few close calls, he felt pretty secure.

That was, naturally, his doom.

But! In his defence, Tony Stark had kissed him. On the mouth. And not by accident, either. One moment Peter was talking about his Chemistry class and how the next Tony Stark was kissing him, lips warm and a little chapped, stubble pricking at the corners of his mouth.

They'd kissed for almost an hour after that, gripping onto each other, learning what made the other twitch and moan. Tony liked his lip sucked and Peter liked his hair pulled and it had led to eager grinding and groping. Peter had never been more loathe to leave, but he had dinner plans with Aunt May that night.

Their first kiss had evolved into kissing every time they were together, chaste and shy or filthy and wet like teenagers. Groping turned into Mr. Stark jacking him off and sucking him down, to Peter sucking him in return and to slowly working their way towards Peter getting done up the ass for the first time (four times, actually. Peter was insatiable and Tony had been more than happy to oblige).

It had been a Thursday night, though, and Peter had a mid-day lecture on Friday. His own shirt had been used as a rag from the first and third rounds, so he shyly accepted when Tony offered him an old, soft black one. It was ratty and stained and he thought nothing of wearing it to his lecture, scribbling notes furiously and paying attention because they had a test in two weeks time.

Towards the end of the lecture, he felt something brush at itch at the back of his neck, and he twisted to find the girl from the lunch hall sat directly behind him, her arm retreating. He blinked in surprise; he hadn't even recognised that she was in his class at the time.

"You had fluff caught on your shirt" she noted casually, though her eyes were narrowed suspiciously. Peter gave her a weak smile, mouthed 'thanks' and turned back around.

It was relatively forgotten until he was done for the day, paused near the doors to try and find his power bank. Footsteps echoed through the hall, and he looked up they stopped near him. Standing there was the girl from his class, and he offered her a warm but puzzled smile. "Hi?" He asked after a pause where she simply stared at him with folded arms.

"I know your secret" she announced, and he nearly dropped his bag, grumbling to catch it as his heart ticked up. That could mean anything - Tony? Spiderman? Even just the spider bite could be disastrous. He'd have scientists experimenting on him and then they'd know and-

"Secret?" He barked out a little hysterically, straightening. "What secret? I don't have any. Not any worth exploiting, anyway. I mean, I peed in the pool once, but I was six and I-"

"I know how you're getting such expensive clothes" she interrupted, arching a brow at him, though the corner of her mouth had ticked up into a smile.

"What? Oh, the shirt the other month? I told you, it was a knockoff" Peter stuttered nervously, and she gestured.

"You're wearing a Gucci shirt right now".

"What? No I'm not. Have you seen this thing?" He asked, plucking at the hem, even as he died a little inside. Was it too much to ask for Tony to shop at Target once in a while?

"Well, it's in horrible condition, but I looked at the tag in class. I know how you're getting all this expensive stuff" she repeated, and Peter twitched a little, glancing around the hall before shuffling out of the way a little.

"I want in" she added, following him, and he paused, blinking across at her while his coherent thoughts stuttered to a stop.

"Uh."

"I want you to teach me".

"...Uh…"

She rolled her eyes at him and stepped closer, lowering her voice. "I know you're a Sugar Baby, Parker. There's no other way you could afford all this stuff, and nobody puts Gucci in a thrift store. I want you to teach me how to do it. Show me what website you used or whatever".

Peter stared at the wall over her shoulder, his thoughts effectively flat-lined. Sugar Baby? Website? Teach her?

"Listen, I don't know who your guy is or how you did it, but clearly, he's minted. And sharing. I'm only able to work part-time around my studies, and I want in. I'm not gonna tell anyone, I'm not a bitch, I just want to be able to afford stuff" her voice softened at the end, and Peter shuffled uncomfortably, trying to kick his brain into gear.

On one hand, she thought he was fucking an old guy for ratty Gucci shirts. On the other, this was the perfect out for all his mishaps. He considered it, head tilting as the corners of his mouth dipped down, and then he nodded.

"Sure, why not".

#fanfic #starker #starker fanfiction #starker fanfic #starker fic #starker cu #starker ncc #ironspider #ironspider fanfiction #ironspider fanfic #ironspider fic #ironspider au #starker au #tony stark/peter parker #peter parker/tony stark #sie fics

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dreamwritesimagines · 4 years

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Okay, I know this may sound bad but

I CANNOT...ABSOLUTELY CANNOT

STAND MINA OR PETAL'S MOM.

ABSOLUTELY CANNOT STAND THEM.

I find them condescending; I dont like how they are all up in her business in the worst way but make it seem like love...its manipulating.

I know their history makes them over-protecrive but they take it too far and then cover it with words of care and love and then Petal just lets it go. Like the P.I thing? She could have let her mom know that she didnt appreciate how she disregarded her feelings and instruction to throw the folder away (which caused a break up and hearache) - it was completely the moms fault. But she was still expected to go home, to eat with them, to go to things with them (with obligation and NOT willingness - that's not family love).

Mina, I feel, speaks for itself... She just doesnt seem to know when enough is enough. She is emotionally a child and cant seem to understand that her words have consequences (which I would love to see Petal show her what they are, just once). Sometimes you have to give loved ones space so they can heal a bit before running your mouth and causing more damage. (Kinda getting angry here lol).

They hurt her, stomp on her but she still has to do what they want and SHE DOES! (For the most part) but at least they apologize....OH WAIT! THEY DON'T

Sorry about the long rant but I couldnt take it anymore... I cringe every time I see their names or mentions. Ugh.

On a positive note: I love you and I love your writing; I know that it is a part of life to not like some one, even fictional. I am actually loving the story. I hope you can forgive me for my rant...trying to find words to end this on but am so awkward.

I do love you and the story, I hope I didnt cross a line here.......

Oh my goodness, honey you don’t need to apologize at all! I find the way we look at characters and situations/dynamics from different viewpoints very interesting, so it’s quite lovely, you can love some characters, you can hate some characters! ❤❤

This is in no way like an apology or “but this and this” kind of reply btw, I’m just going to explain the way I see the characters and of course we’re all free to disagree, that’s the best thing about fiction!❤ It makes us think and see things differently❤ If you see them in a different way or if you have another approach, please let me know! ❤

So in my mind, when it comes to their family -even if they tend not to talk about it- the dad’s arrest was a huge trauma for each of them, and they all had different reactions to it. Trauma unfortunately changes people, and what they went through -Petal was too young yes, but the mom wasn’t and Mina was a teenager, which means her personality still wasn’t exactly...fixed in a way- basically shifted not only the power dynamics, but the understanding of each other.

So their mother, when the dad was arrested was obviously very shaken, and the way that whole incident resonated on her personality was that....the first thing she felt was possibly guilt, and guilt can alter our whole personality. I’m not a mother obviously, but based on my interactions with my own mother and people who have children, it’s my understanding that the worst feeling in the world for them is not being able to protect their child. So, the way it goes in Petal’s mother’s mind is that their father clearly scarred Petal, that’s for sure but the thing is, she had no idea what was happening and that put Petal in such a danger. Spencer keeps saying that his “profile” doesn’t fit into a killer that would harm his family, but the way her mother sees it, he could’ve killed Petal or Mina, and she wouldn’t even realize what was wrong until it was too late. This is the man who’s the father of her children, the man she put her trust in to protect her children and in doing so, she put them in danger. So in her mind, it goes like 1) survival 2) psychological wellbeing. Of course it’s important, but she feels like she can fix her mental state if Petal “survives” first, so that’s the first priority. That’s why the P.I is a huge part of their lives, and that’s why she’s so... the way she is 😂

Which bring us to Mina, whose teenager years were shaped by the trauma of her father. As multiple people stated in the story, Mina is her mother’s daughter, like a small copy with small traces of her father, and she grew up witnessing how devastating that whole thing was to her mother. Seeing something like that also shifted her view on “protectiveness”, and also, Mina is the oldest daughter right? I think there are certain traits that are very visible in oldest daughters, because she feels like she needs to protect everyone and she somehow feels almost...responsible? She was ready to cover up actual murder for her family, and while she was growing up, as it is very common with a lot of parents, her parents raised her with “You’re Petal’s big sister, you need to protect her”. That’s a huge burden to put on a child or a teenager, and she can’t help but feel guilty that she somehow “failed” Petal by letting her father traumatize her like that.

And lastly we have Petal, whose whole understanding of “family” is....twisted at best. That whole thing with her father happened when she was very young, so she grew up thinking that the people in her family are the only people who she could trust, especially after what happened. She was close with her father, and when they arrested him and found out what he did, it basically pulled the rug from under her, so she clung to the nearest people, which were her family.

I mean is it healthy? God no, it is very unhealthy and very dysfunctional. But the thing is, I feel like a fictional work should be free to show the good and the bad at the same time, we can’t cower away from it if we want to...awaken something in our audience, at least in my opinion😁

That being said, my education also taught me that like 99.9 percent of the time, the reader can analyse the characters much better than the writer, so if you disagree with me, that’s absolutely alright! ❤❤❤ I love exchanging ideas with you! Thank you so much for this, this is a very different viewpoint I will keep in mind ❤❤❤

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ninja-go-to-therapy · 4 years

Text

Whumptober 13: Breathe in Breathe Out

Choking

Did someone say hurt the monkey boy? What? No? Oh, too late :)

Summary: MK is captured by the Spider Queen.

Trigger Warnings: spiders, dehumanization, pet whump, choking and strangulation, panic attacks, physical and psychological torture, near death experiences, mild self harm

3596 words

MK curled in on himself, trying to block out the cold.

Fuck, it was so cold.

And… damp?

What was going on? He didn’t remember what had happened, or how he’d gotten here. He’d only woken up just now, tied up in the dark. His eyes had yet to adjust.

He shivered, jerking at the ropes that bound his hands behind his back. They didn’t budge.

It was definitely very bad that he couldn’t remember what had happened. He was pretty sure he remembered saving Pigsy and Tang from — ick — spiders (or like, a spider demon lady or whatever). Same difference. He shuddered. He absolutely hated spiders.

But on the bright side, they’d all gotten out of there, no problem!

Er… actually, considering that was the last thing he could remember, he wasn’t so sure if that was true. Where was he?

“Hello?” he called, cringing when his voice echoed loudly through the… wherever he was. Well, if anyone was here, they could definitely hear him.

Hopefully it was just Red Son or something. That guy was a loser, he’d be easy to defeat. Plus, MK had no doubt that his team was working on getting him out of here right this very moment.

Oh fuck, he hoped Pigsy wasn’t pissed at him for missing work again.

In his defense, this wasn’t his fault! Pigsy would probably understand. And if he didn’t, well, he had everyone else to vouch for him. Probably.

“Is anyone here?” he asked, the only response being his own voice echoing back at him.

Ugh, apparently he was alone down here — wait. He could hear something. Footsteps? No, it sounded different than that. Kind of like…

“Hush up now, little monkey.”

He looked around wildly, frustrated that he still couldn’t see anything. The sight of truth that the staff gave him would really come in handy right about now. Come to think of it, where was his staff?

The voice, which was previously kind of far away probably, was suddenly very, very close. “Can’t have you screaming, now can we?”

Oh fuck, he was just now remembering where he recognized this voice from. Oh no, was he back in the nightmare hole? Oh no, were there still all the creepy crawly spiders everywhere? Nope nope nope, he was absolutely not thinking about that right now. Ew… The absolute last thing he wanted in life was to be in a place that was absolutely crawling with… those.

“Untie me!” he said, struggling fiercely. Wait, if this was the Spider Queen and her nightmare hole, then…

Nope nope nope nope, he was suddenly very thankful that he couldn’t see much of anything. If he couldn’t see, then he couldn’t confirm whether or not he was actually tied with — ick — spiderwebs. He wanted to cry just thinking about it.

Why couldn’t she just use some good old fashioned rope? There was nothing wrong with rope! He would even be fine with chains, even if they pinched his skin! Just… anything but spiderwebs.

The Spider Queen laughed, the sound reverberating through the cave. MK really could do without this stupid echo. “Untie you? Oh, honey, where would be the fun in that?”

Well, that wasn’t the reaction he was hoping for. He wasn’t surprised, but still, it would have been nice if maybe for once—

“See, I was planning on eating you,” she said.

Eating him? Oh shit, oh shit, he’d forgotten about that in the midst of his earlier battle. Oh god, he didn’t want to be eaten! He was too young to die!

“You don’t need to eat me!” MK said hastily. “I mean, I bet I’d taste terrible! I would be totally disgusting! You don’t need a teenage boy who eats nothing but noodles! If you’re gonna eat somebody, at least eat someone who’s healthy!”

“I said was,” the Spider Queen said, cutting off his rambling. “But I’ve changed my mind.”

“You… have?” Oh, thank god. Being eaten sounded like one of the worst possible ways to go. He’d rather die. …Okay, that wasn’t a good comparison. Still, the point remained. He had officially found one thing worse than spiders. Being fucking eaten.

But spiders were still a very close second.

“Course I have,” she said. MK’s eyes were finally adjusting to the darkness, and he could now just make out her wicked smile. “I have a feeling you’re going to be so much more useful than just a light snack.”

MK shuddered at the idea. Thank god she’d changed her mind. Wait… why had she changed her mind? And worse, what exactly was she planning to use him for? He wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

“I think the obvious solution here is to just let me go,” MK said, laughing nervously. “I mean, why keep me around if you’re not gonna eat me, right? And as we’ve already established, you’re definitely not doing that. Please don’t change your mind again.” He really needed to stop talking before he changed her mind for her.

She laughed again, but said nothing. MK, as best he could, squirmed uncomfortably in the following silence. He hated not being able to move his hands.

The Spider Queen hummed, observing MK carefully. She took his face in her cold hands, turning it side to side.

MK jerked his head free of her grip, glaring at her. “Unhand me!” he said, hoping he sounded confident and not, you know, completely terrified.

“I think we need a rundown on how this is going to work,” the Spider Queen said, standing up to her full height again. MK gulped, looking up at her in terror. Don’t focus on the spider thing don’t focus on the spider thing don’t focus on the spider thing.

He was fine. This was fine. It was all totally and completely fine. Everything was good!

“It would just be so much easier for the both of us if you would cooperate,” she continued, “You think you can be obedient, little monkey?”

MK wrinkled his nose at the wording she’d chosen. Obedient? Hell no! “I told you before,” he said, “I am a monkey man!” with that, he attempted to break free of his bindings heroically so he could then pummel her.

Which, theoretically, would have been great. If it had worked. Instead, he was stuck struggling in the ropes, wriggling around on the ground like a worm.

Well. This was going great.

“You are adorable,” the Spider Queen said, amused. “Yes, I think I can make this work quite nicely.”

MK was too busy looking and feeling like a fool to really pay attention to that. He could worry about it later, it was fine. For now, he needed to break out of this.

She looked down at him, and MK only struggled harder, if only to shake away the discomfort of being watched like that.

“You really are a little monkey,” she chuckled after a moment.

“Stop calling me that,” MK grumbled. He could feel it, he was almost free! Maybe, if he just kept stalling, he could take her by surprise.

She reached down, hoisting him back up so he was sitting upright again.

“Hey!” he cried, more offended than anything. “What are you doing?”

“Just trying to get a good look at my new pet.”

Oh, okay — come again now? What had she just called him? Oh god, and the way she’d said it — he wanted to vomit. He was pretty sure he could actually feel a bit of bile rising in his throat.

MK laughed uncomfortably. “Your new what now?” he squeaked. Dammit, that was supposed to come out sounding… well, definitely not sounding like he was a scared little baby. Which, he definitely wasn’t.

“Powerful little monkeys like yourself don’t need to be out leveling cities,” Spider Queen said, casual. MK waited for her to continue explaining, but she didn’t. Okay, that didn’t clear up his concern at all. In fact, it probably only elevated it.

“Okay, first off, I know the whole “Monkie Kid” title thing can be confusing, but I’m definitely a human. Like, completely a human. Not an actual monkey.” Plus, he hadn’t been out leveling cities, he’d been out stopping people like DBK from leveling cities.

All he got in response was a smug, “We’ll see about that.”

With that, she undid his headband, his hair awkwardly flopping into his face in its absence.

“Hey! Do you know how long it takes to get my hair to look good—?” he was forced to cut off as the headband was retied, rather tightly, around his neck. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice becoming slightly raspy as his airway was getting cut off. “What are you — no — st-stop!” He gasped, and though his hands were tied behind him, he still tried to lift them so he could clutch at his neck desperately. He made no progress, and the band only tightened. He couldn’t take in enough breath to do more than make the tiniest of sounds.

The Spider Queen didn’t relent, pulling it so tight and cutting off MK’s air so quick that suddenly his vision was swimming with black specks and his head was going fuzzy like TV static.

He struggled to the best of his ability, using the last of his energy to get her to stop. Still, it wasn’t enough, and his eyes slipped shut. The world was darkness, a galaxy of nonexistent stars.

Finally, mercifully, just as he was sure he was going to die, it came to a halt.

He fell forward, unable to catch himself with his hands tied as they were, but grateful for the ability to breathe all the same.

He took in gulp after gulp of air, his entire body trembling uncontrollably. For a minute there he’d been so sure that it would be his last.

And then the Spider Queen said something that MK couldn’t even attempt to comprehend, and suddenly the feeling was back.

His neck was being absolutely crushed — but she wasn’t touching him anymore. How… why… stop…

Just like the first time, it went away right as all hope seemed lost. This time, the feeling didn’t come back, and MK was able to frantically take in as much air as his lungs allowed.

“What…” MK panted when he could finally breathe again, “What did you do?”

“Well, every pet needs a collar,” was all she responded with.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, “I already said, I’m… I’m…” oh man, he was way too lightheaded to be arguing right now. For a moment, he could only focus on taking breath after breath.

“Now,” she said, plucking at his hair and standing upright again. “I’ll take that, and…” she dropped it into a cauldron which definitely hadn’t been there before. Had it been? He couldn’t remember. Was he losing his mind? “You, my adorable little monkey, are going to help me reclaim my empire.”

And then, as if the lack of oxygen in his brain wasn’t bad enough, he was suddenly just… really… so fucking exhausted. The kind of exhausted that he could barely even find it in himself to move. The kind of exhausted that seeped into his bones and wouldn’t let go.

He slumped over on the floor, unable to hold himself up any longer.

He couldn’t just fall asleep… not here, not now. He didn’t even know how she was doing it, or what she was going to do to him if he did lose consciousness. He forced his eyes wide open, but they were fluttering shut anyway, against his will.

“Well, isn’t that just perfect?” the Spider Queen asked, likely rhetorically. If MK had the energy to think of a good response, he would definitely be doing that right now. He’d be all… uh… god, he was so tired. He could probably sleep for like, a thousand years.

He zoned out on whatever monologue she was giving. He couldn’t fight this exhaustion any longer. He just wanted to sleep…

He yawned faintly, drifting off and allowing himself to give in to the cold clutches of sleep. He couldn’t resist it, anyway.

The world faded away around him.

———

MK woke up what he presumed was a short time later, still completely out of it, but at least with enough energy to think.

He was alone. Thank goodness.

Alright, he had to get out of here. First he had to somehow get untied, and then he had to find his staff, and then he had to find a way out of here. That seemed simple enough. That was totally simple enough! He could handle this.

Carefully, he sat up, doing his best not to make any noise.

He had to get this perfect. Just the memories from earlier had him feeling nauseous, and he had a feeling that if he didn’t get out of here before the Spider Queen came back, there would be more where that had come from. He wasn’t exactly eager to experience that.

Hmm, maybe if he could find something sharp to cut the ropes — yes, he knew they were webs, but the very horror of that idea was too much to comprehend. It was easier to just think of them as regular old ropes. He really didn’t need to be sending himself into a panic attack right now.

He looked around for… he didn’t know, a pointy rock or something? Anything remotely sharp would do. Probably.

It took a minute, but he finally managed to get to his feet. He stumbled, biting back a shriek as he immediately tripped forward. With his hands tied behind his back, he couldn’t make an effort to catch himself.

His face collided with the floor. Hard.

The sound echoed throughout the cave. Oh shit, now not only was he in immense pain, but he definitely had a limited time frame to get away.

He scrambled to his feet again, leaning against the wall to steady himself before he took off in a staggering run. Forget the getting untied part, first he just had to get away.

He was actually making progress! He had been right, it was all completely working out. He’d be back home and cozy in bed before he could say noodles.

Don’t look back, don’t look back, just keep running.

Oh man, he could actually see light! Light meant freedom! He moved towards it, panting with effort and exhaustion. Almost there. He was almost there. He could take a nice long nap as soon as he got out.

He was so close.

And then he was choking again.

He fell to his knees, gasping for breath as the band — he absolutely was not calling it a collar, because it was just his headband — tightened around his neck.

Stop stop stop stop!

His lungs were already burning, and his neck was going to bruise, he was sure of it.

It hurt so bad, he just wanted it to stop, oh god.

“There you are,” the Spider Queen said, her voice barely registering in MK’s fuzzy brain. He just wanted it to stop. Nothing else mattered.

He was vaguely aware of his body being plucked off the ground.

“Can’t have you running off like that, little monkey. Lucky you, I have a delightful punishment picked out.”

MK, for all his fighting, could do nothing to stop her.

The band stopped squeezing the life out of him, thank goodness, but he had a sick feeling that whatever was going to come next would be just as bad (or worse).

He was all but thrown into a dark, disgusting cell. Full of… full of… nope nope nope too many spiderwebs, way too many spiderwebs.

“You’re going to stay in this dark, nice little cell — full of spiders, by the way — until you learn how to respect your queen. I’ll be back in the morning, little monkey. Let’s hope you’ve learned your lesson by then.”

With that, the cell door shut and locked, and MK was left alone. On the bright side, he finally managed to free his hands from their bindings. On the downside, he was alone. In a scary nightmare cell full of horrors.

Full of spiders.

His entire body jerked in a shiver.

He could hear scuttling — no doubt one of the horrifying little beasts themselves. Oh god, how many were there? He could barely see, he certainly couldn’t make out any insects.

What if they were everywhere? Was every inch of the place crawling with them? There were so many webs, too many webs, too many spiders, oh god.

He was struggling to breathe once again, practically hyperventilating as tears filled his eyes. The crushing panic of the situation was slamming into him.

He wanted to go home. He would take anything over this. He would take being thrown across a goddamn volcano over this.

Something scurried across his leg.

A quiet sob left his throat. He was sitting there, completely frozen, unable to do so much as flick the spider away. God, he was so pathetic.

He could swear more spiders were crawling on him, now. His skin was burning. They were everywhere. He couldn’t breathe.

His fingers twitched, but he couldn’t make himself move.

Tears were streaming from his eyes and his skin was so itchy and he couldn’t handle this, he really couldn’t handle this.

His face was growing numb from how hard he was crying.

He didn’t even realize that he was finally moving, barely registering the pain from how hard he was scratching at his skin. Even when he realized how bad it did hurt, he couldn’t stop, scratching his arms, his hands, his legs, everything he could.

It was starting to burn.

The scratching got more frantic. He couldn’t stop until the spiders were gone. With the lack of light in the cell, he had no way of knowing when that would be, so he just continued to scratch and continued to cry.

The panic turned the world into a haze. He stared blankly ahead, unseeing, doing nothing but scratching at his skin. Tears continued to pour from his eyes.

He was so pathetic. He was so pathetic. He was so pathetic.

He couldn’t even handle some stupid little baby spiders. He was supposed to be the brave protector of the city, the successor to the great Monkey King, and he couldn’t even handle spiders.

He sniffled. If Monkey King had known how pathetic he was, he’d never have chosen him.

And now look at him. Stuck in an eternal nightmare hole — which really did seem to be eternal, as wherever he was being kept wasn’t somewhere he’d seen while they’d been rescuing Tang and Pigsy — having lost the staff.

Oh god. He’d lost the staff. He really was worthless.

He couldn’t believe he’d been so careless, so stupid. The scratching increased, and he hissed at the feeling. He wasn’t cut out to be Monkie Kid. Monkey King had made a mistake, choosing him. It had all just been one big mistake.

He sobbed. Maybe he deserved to rot down here with the spiders. At least here he couldn’t fuck anything up for anyone.

His sobs turned to high pitched cries. He couldn’t handle this.

He cried for a long time, until there were no tears left to cry. Still, the panic didn’t go away. They were all over the cell, even if he couldn’t see them. His skin was still burning from how hard he’d been scratching.

His earlier exhaustion was hitting him again, full force. But he couldn’t sleep, not now. Not when he was surrounded by them.

He sniffled, pressing his arms close to his body and covering his face. As long as they didn’t get on his face or under his clothes or on his skin or anywhere near him it would all be okay. It would all be fine.

But it wasn’t fine. He was so far from fine.

He wondered briefly if Mei would laugh at him for panicking so badly. They were just spiders. Most of them couldn’t even hurt him. Unless they were big, or poisonous, or…

He hugged his knees to his chest. Mei would think he was being so stupid.

Blearily, he opened his eyes, surveying the cell nervously. He couldn’t see any spiders. That didn’t mean there weren’t any there. It only made it all the more nerve-wracking.

His eyes landed on the faint shadow of a spider. It was huge. Absolutely massive, actually. He scrambled back towards the edge of his cell.

No no no no no no!

Breathe, just take deep breaths, it wasn’t going to come any closer, it probably didn’t have any interest in him, just stop please get away he wanted to go home.

It didn’t move for a moment. Maybe it would leave. Maybe it would leave! That sounded pretty likely, right? It could totally leave!

Instead, out of nowhere, it scurried way too close for comfort.

MK shoved himself back against the wall of his cell, clawing at the door behind him.

“Let me out!” he shrieked, his voice strained. He received no response other than the spider getting ever closer. He had nowhere left to run. It was too close.

Whatever he’d thought he would go through as the Monkie Kid, all the horrible torture and the kidnappings and the near death experiences he’d dreamed up…

This was worse. This was so much worse.

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lipstickbisous · 4 years

Text

the rei brown series (1/3)

PICTURE FRAMES.

notes: yeah so i do write for (y/n) lol. just not for my oberyn series. this will have two parts but that’s it. this really has nothing to do with the plot of narcos, so sorry, but instead, we’re getting self-loathing javi. literally the only thing i’m good at is angst so...send that shit in. heaavvvvyyyy inspo from @gummiishark 😘

IT IS IMPORTANT THAT YOU LISTEN TO THE SONG.

the poem used is NOT MINE.

there is a part that might not add up with the whole 80′s setting, just ignore that pls.

pairing: javier peña x reader

summary: what happens when memories begin to resurface and javi can’t stop them?

warnings: A N G S T -- ANGST ANGST ANGST. there will be a part two but ANGST. an a john mulaney reference ;)

based off of picture frames by rei brown.

word count: 3.2k

it was dark. that was all javi knew in the moment because he didn’t feel like getting up to check the clock in his kitchen. it hung delicately on his wall, almost like how his heart was delicately and barely clinging onto life. something inside of him was hurting, and it hadn’t hurt in a long time. it was foreign, yet when javier first felt the pang, he was nostalgic.

nostalgic of you? most likely, but he hadn’t thought of you in the past twenty years. it’d been too long, and if he was being honest, he’d been too busy--so he assumed that you had been as well. that you were married off to a kind man, because that’s what you deserved, with several beautiful children, a dog, a big house with good money (because that’s what you deserved). he wasn’t sure if you had gotten that, but he hoped to god it’s what life was meant for you. he knew was his life meant now--cheap alcohol and cigerattes, expensive girls and informants, and a job that had him slumped on his couch, ignoring the spanish being spoken on his television.

he had wasted the past two decades with a career he thought was destined for him, but instead, he had made his living in murder. javi had spent countless nights with girls who were now unidentifiable. three nights ago, he had a pretty brunette in his bed, and once she left in the morning, he couldn’t even remember her name. martina? no, it started with an ‘f’, he was sure...

even though he had managed to convince himself over twenty years that he had completely rid himself of you for good, he could still remember your name. your teenage face smiling in the texas sunlight. sometimes, you would come over to the ranch and simply just sit with the horses. you’d stated that they had a certain essence to them that you enjoyed, but he knew that despite the girls in your grade teasing you about it, horses were your favorite animal. you had light laugh lines creasing from behind your nostrils to the corners of your mouth every time you laughed. javier could remember admiring them.

god, javier admired everything about you. even now, as his eyes were focused on the television but couldn’t think about a single thing it was showing him, he still admired the way you had laughed during summer hang-outs, or during the halls of high school when he tried to crack a joke. and they hadn’t even all that funny--but then again, you did have a big sense of humor and were easily amused.

he had polaroids of the two of you somewhere in his bedroom. he had made sure to pack them along with him on his way to colombia. he didn’t even want to think about the last time you two had spoke. it had been a neutral departing, and even if javi didn’t know it, you were both hiding things you had to say. he’d given it to you simply--a straightforward “i’m leaving texas”--and you were frozen.

you wanted to support him, of course you wanted to support him. you would be attending college as well, but you were staying in the state. your mother had been scared to death of you leaving texas for school, and as much as you hated it, you could never defy your mother. so, in that moment, you hadn’t moved for a good three minutes. it took a gentle hand on your shoulder to wake you.

“oh,” you whispered, but it was more of an incoherent noise. “that’s nice.” you’d said as well.

at first, you were angry that he could go back on a promise he made to you when you were both four years old--neither of you would ever leave the other. then, you were quick to realize that your frustration was nothing more than your fault. why would you back everything that was happening on a stupid promise you made when you were four years old?

he’d driven you home that night and you had murmured a quiet goodbye in the sticky summer air, but it had gotten caught on its way to javier’s ears. to him, you had left his truck without a word.

javier pushed that memory away. he dug a hole in his brain and buried the thought in its gravery, shoving the dirty onto its wooden box and taking a swig of whiskey. he stood from his couch and flipped the television off, watching as its screen remained with the green halo and the top was still hot. the streets outside of his apartment were always loud, but even now, whether it was a coincidence or not, only two or three cars were passing by quietly.

he let out a grumble and flipped off the light to his living room and kitchen, stumbling into his bedroom and collapsing on top of the bed. his sheets, a pristine pearl white, usually calmed him in the dead of night when he had a long day at work or maybe he had lost an officer. these sheets, the ones that held so many girls but never you, now did nothing for him. even the smell seemed bland, they weren’t the normal fresh detergent smell. he pressed his cheek flat against the mattress and pulled a pillow over his head, trying to muffle out any small noise or sight that could bother him in the morning. when stuck between his bed and pillow, he exhaled and immediately cringed. his breath reeked of whiskey and cigarettes and whatever spicy food he’d eaten that night--he couldn’t even remember.

then, an idea sparked. it hadn’t been sinful or devilish but his eyes shot open and he threw the pillow to the floor. a car drove past his window, the lights moving through his room. javier propelled himself from his bed and swung his hand over the floor lamp in next to his desk. the room was illuminated and he could only imagine how insane he looked; his hair tousled in different directions, his eyes puffy from absentmindedly crying, his hands frantically running themselves over every piece of furniture in his room. he flipped the covers from his bed and looked underneath but found no monsters or anything. he pulled out drawers from his desk and emptied their contents onto the floor, but only found highlighters, papers, pens, and work-related material (that, if javier was being honest, should not have been in his home). he left the empty drawers on the floor and turned to the bookshelf, pulling every book off of its surface until the shelves were bare.

a hand rubbed over his mouth as he felt tears threatening him again. he could not cry--he wouldn’t. it was then that javi realized the mess he had made and his anxiety completely tipped him off of the cliff edge. he began to lose his composure, breaking down in a way that he was sure made him look ugly. he fell to his knees and leaned against the end of his bed, bringing his knees to his chest. he wore only a t-shirt and boxers, but even in the colombian heat, he felt cold.

he couldn’t bring himself to say your name. javier felt that just the small noise of his own voice would scare him, but he had always thought your name was the prettiest.

(y/n). he thought in his head, that mental voice almost screaming at him. just fucking say it.

javier stuttered, choking on his own words, and he never stuttered. he always knew exactly what he wanted, and in this moment, he only wanted you. but you were over a thousand miles away and he had no idea if you even still thought about him. he hoped so, but he wouldn’t blame you if the name “javier peña” hadn’t been used by your lips in a long time.

back in texas all that time ago, he had left the next day. you called his father back at the ranch to try and make some sort of contact but the news had been announced that javier peña was no longer in texas and was on his way to a new school to meet new people and--this hurt you the worst--new girls.

you had never been one for jealousy. it was a vile monster that you just morally could not let take control over you, but for the second and that second only, it was all you felt. you loved javier and he just left? he left you at home while he traveled over the country.

javier didn’t dare to think about it. as he continued to stutter, he let out the smallest of whimpers with the syllables of your name. “(y/n),” he cried to himself and squeezed his eyes shut. hot tears stained his cheeks as they continued to flow in a way that seemed endless. the feeling of his lips pronouncing your name sent chills down his spine as he said it again, “(y/n).”

there were now small splotches on his shirt where his tears had left his face and dripped onto the fabric, and when pressed flush against his skin as he stood, it felt icy. he didn’t feel like doing much, and maybe that was because in his eyes, he had wasted almost his entire life so far on a fucking job. he was practically praying that you had found something good to do--even maybe hoping that you would still visit the ranch sometimes to sit with the horses, but that seemed like a stretch considering your last encounter.

finally, javi looked to his small closet that held nothing more than button-up shirts, tan-colored suits, and stacks of blue jeans. he chewed on his bottom lip and furrowed a brow. he couldn’t have possibly been that simple as to put something he held so close to his heart in his...closet? his feet carried him to the closet doors before he ripped them open and began throwing out hangers of clothes onto his bed. really, he didn’t care if it was a mess now--he’d clean it up later because in this moment, what he was searching for was all that mattered.

there was a shelf above the bar of his closet that held all of his hangers, but even though javier was considerably tall, he couldn’t reach it. with a harsh sigh, he kicked all of the clothes surrounding him on the floor away and grabbed the chair from his desk. he cringed as the sound of the wooden pegs meeting the wooden floor was insanely loud in the quiet moment before standing on the chair. he could just barely see over the shelf, but he didn’t need to see anymore. a large cardboard box that had been collecting dust and sitting in bored in closet for years seemed to shine in a halo of angelic light. his gaze softened once his hand reached the back and he pulled the box down to him.

the creases of the cardboard had aged over time and the edges were slightly ripped, but overall, it had been kept in good shape--even when considering that javi hadn’t even looked at it for a long time, let alone hold it in his arms.

it felt like it was almost an historic artifact, that if javier applied just a bit too much pressure, it would turn to dust in his hold. he breathed carefully before gently setting it down on his bed, throwing the hangers of clothes onto the floor. currently, not a square inch of wooden flooring could be seen in his room. his eyes were wide as he traced his fingers over the box, recognizing the faded logo of the brand of boots you wore in highschool. he’d asked for your shoe box, you had no idea why, but now here javier sat with it in front of him all these years later.

his fingers just barely grazed over the edge of the lid before lifting it from the rest of the box, the dust gently blowing the air and small puffs of his breath. the first thing he noticed was the photo of you he held dearest.

it had been winter in texas and you were both sixteen. usually, during the cold season, because your hometown was so close to the border, the most winter-ish reaction you could get from texas was ice, but this year had been special because it had snowed. little snowflakes fell so delicately and collected on the ground until it grew to be at least several inches high. the roads were completely ice so your school had been cancelled on that thursday. it had been, personally, you and javi’s first taste of snow. and you both had spent ten minutes outside, bundled up in snow gear you never had to use before until you both decided that the snow was not for you and you retreated inside. his father had even gone as far to make hot cocoa and sandwiches for you two. javi had taken the photo with his father’s camera, one that he normally wasn’t allowed to use, when he had captured the perfect moment of you caught up in your laughter.

he pulled out various other photos from that day and others out of the box and reached a series of polaroids, and this time, it had been from summer. you had daisies in your hair because javier had taken the time to weave them through they strands so they stayed in place. he remembered how you had poked fun at him because while the gesture was so effortless, he stuck his tongue out like he was intently working. in the picture you sat in the fields while the horses were home in their stables, but a small foal had managed to escape. it’s wobbly knees kept it struggling to stand. the next photo was you noticing the creature almost falling over behind you. the third was you laughing and holding it up with your hands on both sides of its stomach.

you had never faked a smile. javier knew so because the one time you had tried, it had gone horribly wrong and he saw right through it. you immediately spilled everything that had been bothering you and he took you out for dinner the diner.

he continued to shuffle through the polaroids, carefully examining each one that showed your genuine excitement and happiness of life. his fingers would trace around the rim before he sensitively placed them in one large pile. he grew closer to the bottom of the box, and as he began to see its cardboard base and that boot logo again, his art ached. back in texas, he had so many more photos of you and he absolutely loathed his younger self for not packing them.

there was more in the box than just photos. he had also managed to pack one of your hoodies because you had left it at his house and never bothered to retrieve it. javier wasn’t sure if the act was creepy in a way, but the fabric had been so soft that whenever he held it, he thought of you. of course, during the past years, the smell of your perfume had completely faded and the sweatshirt smelled like any other old hoodie.

beneath the hoodie was a numerous amount of papers you had written and hidden in your room, but you had never been one for secrets. a day together over the summer and javi found them sticking out of your dresser drawer. he wasn’t sure if even to this day you knew he had them. on the paper, which had turned yellow due to age, you had written small poems. some had been about love, others about friends, and a few about summer and winter. (javi liked to believe that when you were writing about the winter ones, you were thinking of your time in the snow with him)

then, there were the poems he had written. he had never let you see any of them or even know about them. he had written them in a journal he kept at his desk, and whenever you asked about it, he would dismiss you and say it was ‘an old school journal he kept for notes’, but when javier was packing, he ripped each page out and clipped them together and put them in the box. tears clouded his vision as he reread his poems.

a sunflower soul, with rock and roll eyes. curious thoughts, and a heart of surprise.

he had written about you.

finally, javier stared down at an empty box, apart from the single card that remained at the bottom. it been hidden underneath every memory he had of you, and when his fingers unfolded the paper, he let out a choked sob when he recognized the numbers.

never in his life had javier felt such nausea. was the number even yours? were you even in texas anymore? you could’ve moved to fucking new york and completely altered your life. but...it wouldn’t hurt to try...right? he stood from his knees, instantly feeling the imprinted lines from the wooden flooring in his skin, and he only hesitated no more than two seconds before sprinting to his dining room, almost running straight past the phone.

with the paper in between his fingers and his hand violently shaking, his tears falling and his throat constricting to keep in a sob, he dialed the number and hopefully waited for a voice--any voice, even if it wasn’t yours, although if it did belong to himself, he didn’t know what he would do.

three dial tones later and no one had picked up. his eyes became lost in the darkness of his dining room before the line went blank. “no,” he whispered. “no, no, no, no.” so foolish of him to think that there could possibly be hope. javier dialed the numbers again and waited several seconds before a groggy voice answered. he realized just how late (or early) it had been and that whoever answered would be woken up by this phone call at two-thirty in the morning.

“hello?” the voice was unrecognizable yet familiar. javi was quiet, his breath even inaudible as he contemplated how to reply. “hello?”

he chewed his bottom lip and squeezed his eyes shut, releasing any other tears that were preparing themselves to fall . “(y/n)?” he spoke your name again and god did it feel good to say the one word that gave him solace.

it was silent. unbearably, cruelly, life-threateningly silent. his breathing began to quick as he felt his heart stop. his brows furrowed in some sort of shock but he was defeated. he clenched the paper in his palm so that it crumpled with a gentle sound, the only thing that really broke that painful silence. until the voice spoke again.

“javi?” you whispered, sitting up in your bed. your eyes were now fully open, your drowsiness had completely left your body. your gaze into the darkness of your room softened as you began to happily cry. “javier?”

on the other side of the line, javi only smiled.

tags: literally no one lmao @gummiishark @cyarikaaa @honeyedspace @talesfromtheguild @absurdthirst @pascalisthepunkest @wakalas @zeldasayer @blushingwueen @forever-rogue @otherthingsinhead @pedropascalito @thewaythisis @javierpenaspinkshirt

#THERE WILL BE A SECOND PART #javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena x oc #narcos #javier pena fic #steve murphy #steve murphy x reader #steve murphy x you #steve murphy fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fic

66 notes · View notes

a-pretty-nerd · 5 years

Text

Oopse Part 2 (Rodrick Heffley x pregnant reader)

Request: "Hi, i was wondering if you could do a part 2 to the Rodrick x Pregnant!Reader where they tell Rodrick's parents about the babie?" ~ anonymous

*cringes* okay ❤

A/N: I'm not gonna lie, I hate this prompt, the original was meant to be funny but it got SO MUCH ATTENTION. The idea of telling parents that you're pregnant at 16 is terrifying, and its not gonna end well. But Im writing this because I feel like Ive been rejecting too many asks latley and people aren't responding well to that. So I hope you enjoy this. Just a warning, I refuse to sugar coat this topic and make it so the parents are happy and supportive. That's a trope I truly hate and if that is what you are looking for, I can name like 3 other amazing blogs that will happily write that for you.

Warnings: Teen Pregnancy, Parental confrontation

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So Rodrick knew. Not only did Rodrick know, but he stayed. Not only did he know and stay, but he confessed his feelings for you. NOT ONLY did he know, stay, and love you, but he was supportive and shockingly mature about things.

Rodrick was not mature, he just wasnt, that wasnt him. You thought that as time went on that maybe his immaturity would come out and he would get scared or he would be stupid about things and it wouldn't work out. But, that didn't happen.

A few weeks had passed since you gave him the news. The only thing that had changed, was that the two of you were now offically going steady. You told Rodrick to keep things a secret for now. Your parents didn't know, his parents didn't know, no one at school could know. You kept it that way until you figured out what to do.

You hadn't really disgusted it with one another either. Rodrick, while kind and supportive, didn't have a clue as to what to do about it. You feared about what keeping it meant, what adoption meant, or abortion. Where the hell do you even get one of those anyways? You were so conflicted and confused, and most of all, scared.

You walked around the high school campus with Rodrick's arm firmly placed around your shoulders. He walked with a proud smile, standing up straight like you were a trophy. Amungst your peers, you weren't exactly at the top, you had your fair share of friends and enemies. You were absolutely perplexed by the way your new boyfriend presented you. You weren't a trophy girlfriend, you weren't a prize, even if you were the idea was insulting. You pulled yourself awat from him at lunch and hid in a secluded hallway linned with lockers.

You sat on the floor and held your knees to your chest. You felt your heart race and your stomach turn.

"There you are, hey..." Rodrick slowly approached and knelt down, "are you okay?" He asked softly.

"I'm fine."

"You look pale," he leaned in, "is it making you sick?" He whispered softly.

"ITS fine!" You barked. His eyes widened and he pouted for a moment before sitting down beside you.

"Whats going on?" He asked often a long pause.

"Why do you do that?" You asked.

"Do what?"

"That thing you do with me."

"What thing? C'mon Y/N I can't read your mind." You could tell he was fustrated, but he kept himself calm.

"The way you get when we're around friends and at school. You parade me around like I'm some kind of prize! I'm not like those girls who dool themselves uo everyday, I'm not Heather Hills!" He watched you as shouted away from him, you didnt want to face him. He paused and thought for a moment.

"You don't like being a prize?" He asked, genuinely confused and concerened.

"No! I'm not some prize to be won, I'm a person with thoughts and feelings and...and I'm not even a prize to begin with! I'm-I'm I'm ruined." You cried.

"Oh no, no no no, you're not ruined you're- don't cry, don't cry." He tried to pry your hands away from your face so he could dry your tears and hold you close. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry if I hurt you, I didn't mean it," he paused and waited for you to take deep breaths and relax before he started talking again, "I just, I really like you Y/N. Like I...really really like you. I've told you I love you a hundred times. You're not a prize, I know that now, But you make me feel like a winner. Having you, makes me feel like I have something to be really proud of. I'm sorry if me showing you off makes you uncomfortable, I'll stop. But I can't help but gush about you a little."

"But Rodrick...I'm pregnant." You whispered to him.

"So? I can't still be proud of my super smart, super hot girlfriend?" He smiled. You paused and held him close for a moment before letting go.

"We have to decide what we're gonna do." You changed the subject.

"Whatever you want." He'd said that so many times, it was driving you mad. You didn't know what you wanted.

"What do you want?" You asked him. Rodrick paused and leaned his head against a lock as he thought.

"I don't know," He admitted, "maybe we should tell someone."

"What? No." You argued.

"We can't keep it a secret forever. People are gonna find out eventually and maybe our parents can help!"

"Not my parents!" You spat. They werent bad parents, you just feared the worst.

"Then lets tell mine, they can help, they'll help us." He pleaded.

"No, no, they'll want us to keep it and get married. They won't understand."

"...Trust me, they'll understand. Please. I want to tell them." You starred at him as you thought.

"...fine." You made a plan, that night at dinner. You went home with Rodrick, and awkwardly shuffled around the house behind him. You had met the Heffly family before, you had stayed for dinner before. But not as Rodrick's girlfriend, and not pregnant.

They greeted you with big smiles, they were happy to have you for dinner. You sat at the table and picked at your food as your leg bounced under the table. At one point, Rodrick placed a hand on your leg to keep is firmly planted. When dinner was over, Greg went to his room, and Manny was put to bed.

"Can we talk to you guys for a sec? Before I take Y/N home." Rodrick asked as his parents sat back down at the dinner table.

"Oh god, somethings wrong." His mother spoke.

"Well, Uh, We-"

"You're pregnant!" His father cut him off. His eyes wide, they starred at you for a long moment. Yout heart raced.

"What?" You spat in shock.

"I knew it, whenever teenage couples sit their parents down, they're pregnant." His mother told her husband.

"How could this happen- Well, I think we know how but you two have only been dating for a few weeks!"

"How could you be so irresponsible?"

"We messed up, you don't have to be so angry at us." You croaked.

"Its true...you are pregnant?" His mother asked softly. You slowly nodded.

"Oh my god..." His father muttered. The room feel silent for a while. Rodrick looked at you, and held your hand tightly.

"What are you going to? Rodrick can't be a father." Mrs. Heffley chuckled.

"We don't know, we thought maybe you could help." You told them. They looked at one another.

"We never thought this would happen." She sighed.

"Me neither!" Rodrick laughed, you gently swatched as his arm.

"Well, how far along are you?"

"A month, maybe."

"Do your parents know, Y/N?" Mr. Heffley asked you. You shook your head.

"We'll figure this out don't worry, it'll be fine." Mrs. Heffley spoke to calm the room.

"What are you going to do, Rodrick? You can't play in that band anymore with a baby." His father told him with a knowing look. Rodrick's expression turned sour, he looked sad but then he held his up.

"I know." He spoke.

"Wait what? No you don't have to stop playing, its your passion." You argued.

"Y/N, a baby is a lot of responsibility, if you keep it, your dreams and your passions take a back seat." Mrs. Heffley warned.

"Well who said I'm keeping it? And who said you can't follow your passions in life? Plety of people do that! Rodrick isn't quiting the band." You were firm. You looked up at Rodrick who starred back, his eyes were lit up. Sparkling as they watched you. "What?" You asked him defensivly, he smiled.

"I love you." He blurted.

"Love you too." You mumbled.

#Rodrick Heffley #Rodrick Heffley x reader #Rodrick Heffley x pregnant!reader #Rodrick Heffley x pregnant reader #DOAWK #Devon Bostick #Oopse

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