#like yes Michael is the hottest man ever to me but that doesn’t mean he’s not average looking girl | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fernweh-writes · 3 years

Note

I don't know if you already did this before but- what about the slashers reaction to a S/O that works as a tatoo artist?

I have not done this before, but this also reminded me I do need to update my masterlist so thank you. It’s the holiday weekend so we’ll see how well I can write…

-Fern🌿

Tattoo Artist S/O

Michael Myers

He would 100% let you tattoo him. Michael has probably always wanted a tattoo and just never had the means to get one. It’s hard to walk into a shop when you’re a wanted murderer after all. Plus, he most likely doesn’t trust other people enough to let them tattoo him. So feel special, cause it means he trusts you enough to take off his shirt and let you repeatedly poke him with a needle.

Michael respects tattooing as an art form. It takes a lot of dedication and precision to permanently place an image upon a persons skin.

He also just thinks it’s neat. Especially if you’ve done some of your own tattoos. He likes the way they look on your skin.

Probably has a weak spot for any red tattoos you have. We all know Michael loves the color red, especially on you.

Bo Sinclair

Again, would let you tattoo him but only after he trusts you enough. He can’t have you suddenly going rouge and trying to harm him with a tattoo gun. And lets be honest with ourselves here, Bo has trust issues so it’s going to take awhile.

He’s very indecisive about what he would want though. Luckily you know him well enough to come up with a few rough sketches of different ideas and placements just… pinky promise it will look good.

Also loves the tattoos on your own skin. Especially the more intricate ones with a lot of detail. He thinks that tattoos are hot in general.

Would try and get you to tattoo his name on yourself.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent is glad that his S/O is also into art. He thinks you’re really good at what you do and loves to admire your work. I also believe that Vincent has a bit of a superiority complex… so h would be glad you’re into different art forms than he is because he doesn’t feel like he can be outdone by you.

With that being said, he occasionally will give you tips on things like placement and critique the details you add to any pieces.

Still, you’re great at what you do and Vincent knows it. So, he would be happy to let you give him a tattoo. After seeing his twin knives I believe he would go for something snake or Greek mythology themed.

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas would want you to incorporate some of his scars into tattoos to make him feel better about them. Don’t worry about hurting him, this man has an insane pain tolerance and he won’t even flinch no matter how long the piece takes.

Also likes watching you come up with concepts. You always add so many little details to even the rough sketches. He really appreciates the time, effort, and attention you put towards what you do.

Even though his very traditional family is against tattoos, Thomas loves them. At night, he enjoys tracing the ones on your own skin. He probably has each and every one memorized down to the smallest detail at this point.

Brahms Heelshire

Our uppity little English boy would not want a tattoo. His parents were very high class and snobby people so they most likely raised Brahms to think tattoos were for hooligans. In all honesty, Brahms may not even know what a tattoo is…

Once he sees the ones that you have though, he’s less against them. His eyes hungrily take in the way the black ink decorates your delicate skin, and he’s hooked. Brahms absolutely loves to look at them.

Also loves to watch as you draw ideas for new pieces. You just look so cute when you’re focused and he’s mesmerized by your sketches.

Billy Loomis

This man + patchwork tattoos= the hottest thing in the history of ever

Would be more than happy to let you tattoo him…you are doing it for free right?

Billy thinks that tattoos are cool and they definitely add onto his intimidating look. If you compliment them it definitely gives his ego a boost as well. You won’t be able to save yourself from this narcissist after he catches you eyeing the ink on his skin.

Also thinks that the tattoos on your own skin are very sexy. Please show him each and every one of them. Yes even if you have to take your clothes off, that’s the best part y/n.

Stu Macher

Stu is more than happy to let you use him as a human canvas as long as you promise to make him look cool. He trusts you enough to not mess up after he’s seen some of the amazing work that you’ve done.

Doesn’t really care what kind of tattoo you put on him. He’ll give you all the creative liberty, occasionally throwing in a suggestion that he would think’d be cool.

Likes the tattoos you have on yourself as well. Stu would be the one to think giving yourself a tattoo is insanely cool! He would never be able to concentrate on little details if he was stabbing himself with a needle.

Would let you give him a very stupid, simple tattoo. Like the really dumb line art ones. Also 100% down for matching tattoos. Even better! Matching stupid tattoos!

Asa Emory

You cannot convince me this man doesn’t have a butterfly tattoo like the one harry styles has. He most certainly does, end of story.

He wouldn’t let you give him a tattoo in a very visible place. As a professor he has to keep up his neat and organized appearance. Coming off as professional is very important to Asa.

He’s fine with your tattoos though. He appreciates your attention to detail in each of the intricate tattoos on your skin. Asa even enjoys watching you draw your ideas on paper.

Jesse Cromeans

He loves tattoos and is more than down to let you give him one. Please do, he’ll even pay you if you want, he doesn’t care.

If you give yourself a skull tattoo Jesse takes it as a confession of your undying love for him. After all, you’ve pretty much marked yourself as his possession anyways.

Needless to say he also loves seeing the ink you have on your own skin. Tattoos are a big turn on for him.

370 notes · View notes

litwitlady · 4 years

Text

give you my wild

In honor of Kinktober - a smutty little nipple kink ficlet.

Read on AO3.

Michael arrives home one day to find a stranger sitting in the living room. Alex introduces him as Benny Jones, friendly neighborhood nipple piercer. And then he drags Michael into their bedroom for a more private conversation.

‘I want to pierce my nipples.’ It’s obvious there’s more so Michael sits on the bed and watches Alex pace. ‘But I knew that getting my nipples pierced in a public place was not a good idea.’ He looks at Michael pointedly. ‘You understand, right?’

‘Your nipple kink. Yes, Alex. Well aware.’ Michael smirks at him and reaches out for Alex’s hands. ‘Where did you find this guy?’

‘Don’t get mad - Isobel helped.’ Michael rolls his eyes but Alex keeps going. ‘I needed someone who would be willing to come into our home and deal with my…,’ he pauses, licking his lips. ‘With my fetish.’

Heat floods Michael’s belly, but he keeps that his secret for now. ‘What do you mean by that? Someone who doesn’t mind listening to you moan in pleasure rather than pain?’

Alex shakes his head slowly and swallows loudly. His eyes darken and Michael notices the flush creeping across his neck. ‘I want to be naked when he pierces me. So, I needed to find someone safe and understanding. Benny does this kind of thing regularly - he belongs to a local fetish and bdsm group.’

‘Naked?’ Michael is just trying to keep up. He did not expect his ordinary Wednesday to take this rather eventful turn.

‘Yes. Not for Benny, of course. For you and for me. And maybe - if you don’t mind - I’d like you to watch while Benny pierces me and I touch myself.’

Michael gapes at Alex. ‘You want to jack off while that complete stranger sticks needles through your tits? And you want me to watch?’ Despite his incredulous tone, in his head Michael has already agreed, cock half-hard at the thought.

‘Benny’s a professional. He understands why I need this. And Guerin, I really do need this.’ Alex tugs his t-shirt over his head and strips down to his boxer briefs. Cock fully erect and straining against the thin cotton material. ‘Are you okay with this?’

He stands so suddenly Alex has to take a quick step backwards. ‘Lead the way.’ The sweet smile Alex rewards him with is enough to make Michael dizzy.

Back out in the living room, Benny is putting on gloves and pulling a brand new needle from its sterilized packaging. Alex has to stop and take a deep breath, clenching his fists to keep them at his sides.

Michael steps up behind him and wraps his arms around Alex’s waist. ‘I love the way you love your body. You’re so fucking beatiful.’ He sucks at the sensitive skin underneath Alex’s ear and runs his fingertips up to his chest, rubbing them lightly across his nipples. Alex whimpers and nearly loses his balance. Michael steadies him and slides his hands back down to Alex’s hips. Slipping his fingers beneath the waistline of Alex’s boxers, he pushes them down slowly - revealing Alex inch by inch until he’s naked and trembling with need.

‘Where would you like to sit?’ Michael had forgotten about Benny.

Alex points to the armchair. ‘So Michael can watch me from the sofa.’ They dutifully take their seats and Michael marvels at how unashamed Alex is in his own skin. Naked and hard and flushed with desire, fully on display before this man neither of them knows. It’s the hottest thing Michael has ever seen.

Collapsing onto the sofa, Michael looks on as Alex sits at the edge of the armchair, thighs immediately falling open. It’s rare that Alex is ever naked and still wearing his prosthetic. Propping one elbow on the chair’s arm, he leans back so Benny has better access to his chest. Benny walks them through the process and grabs a cotton ball, dousing it in alcohol. As soon as Benny touches the cotton to Alex’s skin, he throws his head back and moans, loud and strangled.

Michael white knuckles the edge of the sofa, barely able to keep himself seated. His own cock is painfully erect and uncomfortable in his jeans. But he doesn’t dare do anything about that without Alex’s help.

Benny swirls the cotton ball around Alex’s nipples, taking his time to thoroughly clean the area. Alex bites his bottom lip swollen, trying desperately not to touch himself yet. But then he catches Michael’s lust-drunk eyes and loses his control, wrapping his fingers around his cock and fisting himself slowly. Michael and Alex both groan, low and feral. Smile at each other and laugh. Alex mouths I love you and Michael answers me too.

The needles are next. Freehanded, Benny places the tip at the side of his nipple and Alex looks down, eyes blown black. ‘Please.’ He’s practically begging. Michael knows how long he’s wanted this - how long it’s taken him to allow himself this simple joy.

Alex’s fist works at his cock in earnest now, chest heaving and hips wriggling. Benny counts to three and shoves the needle clean through. Michael can hardly believe the sound that escapes from Alex’s mouth or that he somehow manages not to come. His toes are curled in on themselves and all the muscles in his legs and stomach trembling. Sweat glistens over his skin and tears leak from the corners of his eyes. Michael gives up and undoes his pants, pushing them down past his ass and freeing his own cock.

Benny never bats an eye. The consummate professional. He just grabs another sterile needle while Michael and Alex watch each other jerk themselves off.

By the time Alex feels Benny ready the next needle at his other nipple, his balls have pulled tight and his tip is glistening with precum. With each tug, he runs his thumb over the head of his dick and lets his orgasm build. He looks at Benny and then Michael. ‘I want to come when the second needle pierces me. I’ll let you know when.’ Benny nods and Michael starts fucking into his hand faster, frantically trying to catch up to Alex. They stare at each other over the coffee table, hips beginning to buck wildly. Working at the same rhythm and never once breaking eye contact. ‘Come with me, Michael.’

All Michael can do is blink yes and hope Alex understands. He runs his hand over his own nipples and watches Alex’s eyes flare with desire. Thumbing his left nipple taut and blood-flushed, he pumps his cock faster and comes the moment Alex says ‘Now.’

With his orgasm spilling hot onto his stomach, he watches through pleasure slitted eyes as Alex explodes. Whole body radiating with release, quaking and spasming from neck to toes. Throat growing hoarse beneath the strain of his cries. Michael finds the energy to stand up and go to him, falling to his knees and jerking the last of Alex’s orgasm free with his own hand.

Muscles nothing but jelly, Alex sinks to the floor and into Michael’s lap. Benny quietly leaves, shutting the door behind him.

‘Did it hurt?’ Michael sits back to get a better look at Alex’s new jewelry.

‘Yes.’ Alex is still breathless but a grin begins to stretch across his face. ‘In the best fucking way. I want to do that over and over again.’

Michael laughs. ‘Once they heal, I’m going to have so much fun pulling orgasm after orgasm from you with nothing but my mouth on your nipples.’

Alex shudders and hugs Michael tighter. ‘God, I can’t wait.’

#malex #malex fic #alex manes #michael guerin #kinktober

53 notes · View notes

aewriting · 4 years

Text

To Run Away From You

Hi everybody. I was reading @sabrinachill ‘s EXCELLENT new fic last night, and it inspired me to finally right down the little fic idea that’s been in the back of my head for months now. This is Outsider POV, and AU about Alex leaving Roswell, but having a hard time actually moving on.

Here it is on AO3, if you prefer.

Warnings for mention of an OC’s past, controlling relationship. Implied sexual content. Brief mention of Jesse Manes.

***

“Dude. What the fuck?” Luke whips around to look at Angela. “You said that the guy you met was ‘kind of cute.’” She glances at the bar, where Alex is currently ordering them another round. “That,” she says pointedly, “is not ‘kind of cute,’ that’s fucking hot.” Luke sighs. “Believe me, I know.” Angela’s frowning, just sipping the melted dregs of her margarita and looking thoughtfully at Alex. ��What?” “Nothing.” “No,” Luke says quickly. “That face is not nothing. What are you thinking, seriously?” Angela hesitates a beat too long. “Angela,” Luke says, a little sharply. “I want to know. After everything with Rick...” Angela blows out a breath. “No, no, you’re right. It’s just... the way you described him, with the whole off-the-grid cabin in the woods and the mysterious past and job and the injury and everything... like, this just isn’t what I pictured.” “He’s out of my league. Just say it. Like, you’re wondering what’s wrong with him.” “No! Oh my god, Luke, no.” Luke scoffs a little, sips his beer. “Cause that’s what I’ve been wondering for the past three months.”

*** They’d met in a bar, because of course they did. Luke isn’t even a big drinker, but that’s where he’d met his last three boyfriends. Not, like, the same bar, he’s not that bad. And the night he met Alex, at least, he’d just been there for the live music. He’d come to find out that’s what had reeled Alex in, too. He’d been in total disbelief when they’d gone back to his place, after. He’d been taking a break from all the hook-up apps and really really had just been trying to listen to some live music, and suddenly this gorgeous guy was unbuckling his pants, reaching down, then... Pausing. Fuck. “I have to tell you something.” He knew it was too good to be true. “Um, before this goes any further, you should probably know...” Shit. He has a husband. A criminal record. “I’m missing part of my right leg. I wear a prosthetic.” Luke couldn’t help the relieved little laugh that escaped him. “Shit, man, that’s fine.” He’d grimaced, briefly. “I mean, it doesn’t change anything on my end, okay?” he’d said, gesturing to the evidence. The guy, Alex, seemed to relax a little at that. “Right, then.” *** “I don’t usually do shit like this,” Alex had said, after. His breath had sounded almost normal again. “Mmm,” Luke had said, noncommittal, because he did usually do shit like this. He’d glanced at the clock, frowned. “Damn. At this point, you should just stay.” Alex had frozen. “I mean, you don’t have to,” Luke backtracked. “But the days are so long now, and the sun will be up soon enough, and didn’t you say you live a ways out?” He could tell Alex was considering it. “We can go to a diner or something in the morning, grab a bite?” Alex had looked at him for a long minute. “I’m trying to do some things differently,” he’d said, carefully. And in that moment he’d looked almost... shy. “So, yeah,” he’d finally said. “I’ll stay.” *** His friends hadn’t believed him. “I think he’s fake.” “Who?” Erika had scoffed. “This Alex guy you’ve been telling us about. The hermit.” Luke had rolled his eyes. “He’s not a hermit, he’s just...” His voice trailed off as Erika stared at him dubiously. He’d shrugged. “Okay he’s kind of a hermit.” “Thank you!” Telling Alex about the exchange... that’s how they’d ended up out with Angela tonight. Because Luke had tried to pass it off as a joke, like it didn’t bother him. “I mean, look at you,” he’d said, gesturing at Alex. “I get it if you don’t want to be seen out in public with me.” The effect was immediate. Alex’s face had hardened. He’d swallowed, once, and met Luke’s eyes with a ferocity Luke wasn’t anticipating. “Plan something,” he’d said. “Tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.” His next words were so soft that Luke could barely hear them. “I’m not running away. I’m not.” *** The sex is... well. It’s good. It’s very good. In retrospect, maybe that’s why Luke never questioned too much, never really pushed for, for more from Alex. He knows a few things. Alex is new to Austin. From somewhere out west. Ex-military. Something pretty shitty in his past that he doesn’t like to talk about. Maybe a lot of shitty somethings, given Alex’s general reticence. God, the sex, though. “Like it’s weird, right?” he’s telling James over brunch. “He just, like, spends all his time holed up in his little cabin, working on shit that he can’t tell me about.” He drags a small piece of English muffin through the hollandaise sauce, chews it thoughtfully. “He’s the hottest guy I’ve ever been with.” James glares at him. “God, I’m sorry,” Luke says, genuinely regretful. “I always forget that we actually...” James raises an eyebrow, then grins. “I’m just messing with you, man. I don’t care. It was one time, and we were both drunk.” “You’re very hot, James,” Luke says earnestly, by way of an apology. James shrugs, smiles. “I know.” At that, Luke pulls out his phone. Brings up one of the few pictures he has of Alex, a casual snap from a few weeks ago. Silently, he slides the phone over to James. “Well, damn,” he says, looking it over for a long moment before sliding it back to Luke. “I know.” “I mean, you’re no slouch but...” Luke blows out a breath. “Yeah.” He shakes his head a little. “And, like, it would be one thing if that was all this was, right? If he was just some, like, pretty boy gym rat. But he’s actually nice. Smart. Kinda tough, too, in a way, which I like. Like, he was in the military and shit, still does...” “What, what does he do?” Luke sighs. “That’s the thing, I don’t know exactly what he does. Something with computers, and security, maybe? He doesn’t really talk about it, and I don’t really push.” James is quiet. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you like this. “Yeah.” He gulps the last of his Bloody Mary. “I... I think I might really like him.” *** He’s at Alex’s cabin one night, far outside Austin. They’d gone out in the city - a rare thing. Does Luke wish it happened more often? Yes, of course. But there’s something about Alex that makes him want to follow his lead, give him space. “I know,” Alex is saying softly as he runs his hand up Luke’s hip, “that I’m not always the easiest. Like, I’m never going to be the guy in the middle of everything - going to shows, to brunch. I... with the work I do and my,” he falters, swallows hard, “my past, I need this distance. Privacy.” His eyes are wide as he looks at Luke. Luke just leans in, kisses him, and Alex kisses back. *** It continues like this for almost a year. They talk, and text, video chat during the week. Weekends, Luke either goes out to the cabin, or Alex comes into town. Some weekends Alex is gone, though, on “business.” He’s always cagey about where he goes, what he does. Once, he’d come back with a bandaged wrist. Luke wishes he’d trust him enough to tell him the truth. But after everything with Rick - Rick, his ex, an older banker who’d tried to tell him what to wear, what to eat, how often to work out... yeah, after Rick, a little space is not something Luke’s going to complain about. And besides, he’s pretty sure Alex could kick Rick’s ass if it ever came down to it.

***

He teases Alex all the fucking time about how off the grid he is, how out of touch with pop culture. Alex quirks an eyebrow. “Don’t come at me about pop culture. Back in school, I...” He trails off, notices that Luke is watching him with rapt attention. “What?” he asks, a little uncomfortable. “It’s just, you never really talk about growing up, or your past.” Luke shrugs. “I... I just want to learn more about you.” So Alex tells him - not a lot, but a few things. He’s from a small town in New Mexico. Had a mean dad. Used to have a septum ring. Liked Panic! Complicated feelings about the military. After, Alex looks thoughtful. “That’s the most I’ve told anyone in years.” “Thanks for telling me.”

***

They’re eating really good enchiladas at a new place downtown. James had told Luke about it. “Take your man there. Impress him. Have a real conversation about the two of you.” It’s working, Luke thinks. Alex looks more relaxed than usual. “God, these are good,” Alex is saying, big smile on his face. “Tastes like home.” “Yeah?” Luke asks, pleased. “Yeah,” Alex says. Leans back in his chair a little. Considers Luke. “Look, I’m, I’m coming to the end of a work project. And once that happens, I think... I think I want to give this a real try, you know?” Luke frowns a little. “A, a real try?” he asks, confused. “Yeah,” Alex says carefully. “Boyfriends?” Luke is frowning now. “Is that not... is that not what we’ve been?” Alex swallows. “I... I didn’t know. With you working downtown and me so far out, I just, just didn’t know if, if that’s what this was to you.” Luke is staring at him, a little uncomprehending. “What else would it be?” Alex shrugs, doesn’t say anything. “It’s been over a year, Alex.” The frown deepens. “All this time, what, do you think I’ve been seeing you on the weekends, and banging other dudes during the week?” Alex shrugs. “Wouldn’t... wouldn’t blame you if you did.” “Well I didn’t.” Luke’s frustrated now - at Alex, for assuming this, and at himself, for never bringing this up before. “Is... is that what you were doing?” Alex’s eyes widen. “No!” He scoffs. “You know where I live, what I do.” “I know where you live, but I have no clue what you really do.” Luke bites his lip. Debates what he’s about to say, says it anyway. “Who’s Michael?” He knows he’s hit a nerve by the way Alex’s face immediately pales. “He texts you. All hours of the night.” Alex looks at him coldly. “You’ve looked at my phone?” he asks in a measured tone. “The lock screen, yeah,” Luke says. “You’ve got two modes at night, man. You’re either tossing and turning or you’re out cold. There’ve been nights where I’ve heard you get three, four messages in a row. Sometimes more. They’re almost always from him. Or some guy named Kyle.” Alex laughs a bit at that one. The laugh dies quickly though, and he’s left staring at Luke. “Kyle’s a friend. He’s helping me with a side project. And Michael’s a...” He trails off, takes a small sip of his tequila. Sighs. “Michael’s damn complicated. I guess he’s an ex?” He shakes his head. “We, we were on and off for a long time but never really, like, dated. It’s over. It’s been over since before I moved out here.” “He know that?” Alex scoffs. “Oh yeah.” They’re silent for a while. “Look, Alex, I really like you. In, in my mind we’ve been together for a while, and I’m sorry now that I never actually, like, talked about that with you. I’m, I’m not used to, like, taking the lead on stuff like that. In a relationship.” He looks down. “I’ve told you. About Rick. And I’ve always liked, with you, that you don’t try to control me. Like, at all.” He looks up. “But there’s a difference between not trying to control someone and not giving a shit. So,” he eyes Alex, “do you give a shit?” Alex sighs, very deeply. “Of course I do.” He’s quiet for a while. “I’m older than you,” he finally says. It’s not what Luke expects. “And you, your parents seem nice. Supportive.” Luke nods. “Wasn’t like that for me. My dad... hated me. Hated this part of me specifically,” Alex says, gesturing between the two of them. “And when I joined the Air Force, it was still DADT.” Luke looks at him blankly. “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell.” “Oh okay,” Luke says. “I’ve heard of that.” “Yeah. Made it illegal for me to be with another guy. Publicly, or even just if anyone found out.” He swallows. “I’ve known Michael since high school. All that stuff - my dad, the military, it played a big part. There were other things, later. But that’s where it started.” “You guys still, like, friendly?” Alex’s lip twitches. “It’s weird, with Michael.” He looks at Luke. “In the interest of being honest, he’s kind of wrapped up in some of the work I’m doing. Like, I’ve seen him a few times since I’ve lived here, since you and I have been involved. Nothing’s happened,” he’s quick to add, “but he’s one of those people that, if he needed me, I, I’d have to help him out. I’d want to help him out,” he amends. “He, he’s more family than the people I’m actually related to, if that makes sense.” Luke can feel his own heart thumping in his chest. “It... it sounds like you really care about him.” Alex purses his lips. “I do.” Luke frowns. “Why did it end?” “He wanted to be good for somebody,” Alex says. “And it wasn’t me.” *** They’re closer, after that. Alex starts to talk a little more about his past, seems a little more secure in the relationship. It’s his second real one, it turns out. Luke just gapes at him when he says that. “Why?” he sputters. Alex scoffs. “The homophobic dad, the small town, the military... take your pick. And Michael was always...” He trails off. “Michael had a lot of secrets. He had a tough life, tough background. We were never really open about what we had. I never felt like we could be, really. Not in a safe way.” He shakes his head. “Anyway, there was a guy. Also from my hometown. That was right before I moved here. We dated for a little while. It was nice. He was nice.” Alex shrugs. “It, it was good for me. It’s the first time I was ever really out with a guy in public. Like for a date, not just a…” He smiles a little. “Yeah. Anyway, it helped me take a chance with you, when I saw you in that bar.” “Then I owe him one,” Luke says, leaning in for a kiss.

***

Then it happens. “Pick up your goddamn phone,” Luke is muttering through gritted teeth. He’s sent about twenty texts already, and he’s worried. About Alex, yeah, but also about the whole goddamn world. And himself. And Alex, well. Alex is ex-military. Kind of a prepper, maybe? Like, a little paranoid, but that’s good, in a situation like this. If Alex even knows what’s going on. Cause Luke can just imagine him, plugging away at his computer, oblivious to the world and the big fucking bombshell that’s just dropped. Voicemail. Fuck. Luke hangs up without leaving a message, reconsiders, calls again. Breathes impatiently through all the rings, hears the tone, and starts talking. “Alex? Alex, I don’t know where you are or what you’re doing, or if you’ve seen the news, but...” he falters. “God, if you haven’t already heard, this is going to sound absolutely insane, but there, there are aliens. Fucking aliens, and they’re like, broadcasting messages, something about an ‘Alighting,’ and they’re like, looking for other aliens, and they’re showing pictures and they look just like the rest of us, man, and I’m kind of freaking out, and I thought your cabin, with you, might be better than my apartment downtown, so if you get this, just, just please - “ Another tone cuts him off, and he hits the steering wheel in frustration. “God damn it!” he shouts. He tries to make himself breathe, be safe. Cause the last thing he fucking needs is a car wreck in the middle of a fucking alien invasion. The cabin’s in view... but Alex isn’t there.

His car is gone, and the door is ajar.

Alex... Alex’s door is never unlocked. Luke parks, opens his door. Approaches the cabin. There’s a sinking feeling in his chest as he sees the single piece of paper taped to the door. Luke, it reads. I’m sorry.

#my fic #roswell nm #malex #alex manes

39 notes · View notes

lady-divine-writes · 4 years

Text

Need for Speed: New York - Chapter 3 (NC17)

Summary: It's been years since high school graduation, and Kurt and Blaine are living the lives of their dreams in New York City alongside their best friends, Nick and Jeff. Car racing behind them, they're working towards the future - Kurt and Jeff at NYADA, Blaine and Nick at NYU. But soon after moving from their tiny apartments to a bigger loft, bits and pieces of Ohio start to weed their way in to their lives - along with some New York grown angst, causing rifts that hopping behind the wheel of a Mustang might not be able to solve.

Read on AO3.

“Kurt? Are you doing all right over there?” Nick asked, straining under the weight of their new sofa - the sofa Kurt picked out and was infinitely proud to have found on clearance. The guys had decided collectively to give Kurt carte blanche with regards to decorating the communal rooms of the loft because - they had to face it - interior decorating was more his forte than theirs. If he didn’t become a Broadway star, he would definitely end up a designer.

Kurt’s eye for detail was exceptional.

If Blaine had his way, he’d bathe the entire place in leather and chrome. He’d even suggested it to Kurt once while he was sitting in bed mulling over fabric swatches. Kurt scolded him, told him to excel beyond his stereotype.

Blaine accused Kurt of being a philistine.

And then they fucked.

Jeff, on the other hand, would forgo the stress of furniture altogether in favor of maintaining the empty space. He wasn’t opposed to eating on the floor and often said that all he really needed to be comfortable was a bed and his boyfriend … and the bed was negotiable.

So with that and the chili pepper lights he bought for his and Nick’s room, he considered himself set.

If given the chance to decorate, Nick would probably end up making their loft look like Dalton Academy. Not on purpose. That’s what he was raised with, what home looked like - hard wood everything; tartan fabrics declaring fake provenance; fine China and collectible figurines locked behind glass; anything soft and comforting, like the couches and recliners, wrapped in plastic. Sanitized.

Protected from human touch.

Besides, between Blaine, Nick, and Jeff, not a one of them had the time nor the patience. So they pooled their money together, gave it to Kurt, and told him to have at it.

And he did.

Kurt ordered the sofa first because he said it would be the heart of the room - the thing that would bring all other design elements together. But placement was key. He’d already had Nick help him move it twice. He wanted it in the spot that got the most mid-afternoon sun, and seeing as it was delivered at eight in the morning, the movers put it in the wrong place.

Before the rest of the living room furniture arrived, this needed to be rectified.

“I’m alright,” Kurt replied, nudging his end forward, signaling Nick to move his end a little more to the left.

“Then what in the world are you grinning at?” After a third consecutive peek over at his friend, Nick noticed Kurt beaming at him like a proud parent watching their kid star as a tooth in a middle school play.

“Oh, nothing,” Kurt sang in that way that indicated it definitely was something. “It’s just nice to see you guys come up for air after violating our new loft for the past three days.”

Nick grunted, prepared to drop his end and call it quits if Kurt insisted on poking fun at him all day long. He’d made a comment when he woke up (Look who finally decided to join the land of the living!), before breakfast (Now tell me, before I plate, do I have to bleach the table first?), after breakfast (Must be nice eating something other than tube steak for once …), then just before his shower (I considered putting a black light light bulb in there, but I haven’t had the chance to steam clean and I’m afraid the place would light up like a Christmas tree!). It was all in good fun, Nick knew. He’d done the same to Kurt about a hundred times when they’d spend the night over at their place. He just … wasn’t in the mood.

He couldn’t say that to Kurt, though. He’d be walking right into the remark that would follow and would have no one to blame but himself.

But in a blink, Kurt’s smile dipped, and he became serious.

“Out of curiosity, in between all the screwing that was going on here, did you guys ever get the chance to talk about what’s been bothering you?”

Kurt stopped walking and lowered his end, and Nick took that as his cue to put his side down. He sighed in exhaustion. Not from moving the sofa. The sofa wasn’t that heavy. But this conversation might be. “Not exactly.”

“Nick …”

“There never seemed to be a right time.”

“Of course there’s never going to be a right time if you use sex to stall! Jeff takes his cues from you, and you know he’ll choose jumping on you like a trampoline over a heart-to-heart if that’s what he thinks you want!”

“It’s … it’s not just that.” Nick side-eyed the sofa, missing a few minutes ago when he was lugging it around and didn’t have to talk about this. “It’s that … I know what I’m feeling is stupid.”

“It’s not stupid, Nick.”

“Yes, it is!” Nick flopped onto the closest cushion, resting his forehead on the heels of his hands. “The things that I’m feeling, they’re more about how I see myself than about how Jeff sees me! I know that! But I can’t stop myself! Even before we started going out, I was always afraid I’d lose him to someone smarter … more talented … better looking ...” Nick’s eyes darted Kurt’s way after each superlative and Kurt felt them tug at his heart. There was a time after Kurt and Jeff became friends when Nick assumed Jeff liked Kurt. Like liked Kurt. Kurt knew that, felt guilty about it, and for a while, he was sure they might never become friends because of it. But look at them now. “And I’m afraid that if I talk to him about it, he’ll think I’m having doubts about him. A-about us. But it’s not about him or us. It’s about me. My sucky internship and my boring-ass classes and how absolutely uninspired and stuck I feel. I mean, that right there is the height of stupidity! Who the hell feels stuck in New York City? It’s the city of dreams! New York is supposed to be the place where anything can happen! It’s happening for you and for Blaine, and definitely for Jeff. So why isn’t it happening for me?”

“I don’t know, Nick,” Kurt said, sitting on the sofa beside his friend. “And I wish I could be more help. But I do know that Jeff loves you. All he wants to do is make you happy. It’s what he lives for! He talks about you like you’re the smartest, kindest, hottest thing on two legs!”

“Really?” Nick chuckled. He knew that Jeff did already, but he still found it difficult to believe.

“Yeah. And it’s super annoying!”

“Thanks.”

“I also know that if he found out that you’ve been harboring fears and doubts that you’re not talking to him about, he’d be hurt.”

“I know, I know. I owe it to him. That doesn’t make it any easier.”

Kurt put a hand on Nick’s knee and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m not trying to pressure you. Think it over, then talk to him when you’re ready. And I know it’s hard, but please, don’t make him wait too long. You might think you’re stealthy at keeping secrets, but I can’t help feeling he knows something’s up.”

And there it was. The thing Nick had been trying to avoid. But Kurt saw it, which meant Jeff had to have. If Nick could get his self-absorbed head out of his ass, he could put this to rest once and for all. “I’ll talk to him,” he said, putting a hand over Kurt’s and holding it. “Soon. I promise.”

***

“Settle down, settle down! Ladies! Gentlemen! We have a lot of ground to cover today so … shut up!”

The dancers laughed as Madame Dufraine marched into the room, the square heels of her dance shoes clicking against the smooth floor.

“We need to discuss semester projects!” she continued, shrugging out of her coat and handing it to her TA. She didn’t look before she let it go, knowing he’d be there to catch it before it hit the ground … or else. “Chester, Chad, Lonnie, Michael, and Jeff are our contestants today. Let’s shake things up and start from the end.” She peered into the wall-length mirror, tucked a stray brown curl underneath her plum turban. Then she turned to her class, tapped the floor with her cane, and announced, “Jeff? Darling? You’re up.”

“Okay.” Jeff popped to his feet straight from his seat on the floor and took the teacher’s place at the front of the class. He clapped his hands in front of him, pausing to get his thoughts in order. The smile glowing on his face was distracting. It earned him several giggles from the girls who knew who that smile belonged to. “My semester project is very special to me,” he began, voice quivering with excitement. “It’s a modern take on a classic pas de deux. I’ve been planning this for a while, and I was originally hoping to dance it with Kevin.” Jeff paused to shoot a look at the man sitting on the only chair in the room, his left leg locked in a cast that ran from his foot up to mid-thigh. “But he took himself out of the running when he broke his leg.”

“More like a Dodge Charger took me out of the running, my man.”

“If that’s the story you’re going with,” Jeff teased. The giggling returned. “Anyway, my semester project isn’t only about dance and what it brings to us in this room. It’s about how dance influences life, how it brings people together.” Jeff’s cheeks turned red as he approached the meat of the matter. “My project wasn’t choreographed by me alone. It was choreographed by me and my best friend while we were in high school - my boyfriend Nick.”

A chorus of ooo’s accompanied his revelation, and his cheeks got redder.

“Dance didn’t necessarily bring us together, but it’s always been a huge part of our lives. Even now, while he’s studying to become a lawyer, he helps me practice.” He bit his lower lip thinking about dancing with Nick, dressed in their pajama pants and t-shirts, taking a turn around their living room wrapped in each other’s arms. “He doesn’t need to study dance to be a dancer. No one does. He’s a dancer because a love of dance lives inside of him. And to be honest … his love inspires me. I wanna use this project to show him how much.”

The dancers in the classroom awww’d in unison, then clapped in support of his plan … all except for one man hunkered down in the corner of the room, out of sight, rolling blue eyes.

***

Nick wrapped his coat tight around his body and bounced on the balls of his feet, waiting outside NYADA for his boyfriend to appear. Students dribbled through the doors dressed in stylish clothes, talking excitedly about art and music and theater. All of the beautiful people seemed to reside in NYADA’s halls and his own wickedly talented boyfriend was among them.

One of the elite.

Nick was just Nick - law student. Nick, with mousy brown hair and wearing sensible shoes. Nick … soft and meek and utterly uninteresting.

His heart stuttered when he saw Jeff walk out the doors, blending seamlessly with the other ballet gods and goddesses, almost all of them with an eye for his man. And why not? If Jeff was stunning as a teenager, he had grown into an absolute dream. His body had become even more defined through hours of practice and working out and discipline. He had more strength in his forearms alone than Nick had in his whole body, or so Nick imagined. With his innate charm and natural grace, no one would ever guess that Jeff was anything other than a New York socialite instead of coming from a working class family in Ohio.

Nick came from a much better-to-do family in Ohio, but the difference was that, regardless of having more money than Jeff’s family, Nick looked like he came from Ohio.

He and Jeff no longer matched, and Nick didn’t know how to fix that.

Jeff stopped outside with a pack of ballerinas, and one particularly friendly man sporting a black up-sweep and piercing blue eyes, whose fingers seemed to find a way to brush along Jeff’s arm no matter where he moved; whose lips lingered around his ear a little too long. Nick didn’t interrupt even though the urge to strut over and wedge his way between them overwhelmed him.

That’s what Kurt would do. He’d part them like the Red Sea, declare his superiority, and have everyone bowing at his feet.

But Nick couldn’t, no matter how much sass of his own Jeff claimed Nick had.

Maybe Jeff belonged with them. And Nick … well, Nick should find somewhere else to call home.

***

“Can you believe how many times Erik fell during that jazz combination? I thought Ms. July was going to put him through a window!”

“Now there’s a man with two left feet! And he’s a contemporary dance major! I can’t imagine what his knees are going to look like tonight!”

“The same way they look every night, I imagine.”

“Keisha! Don’t say that! That’s rude!”

“What? If you don’t think that man doesn’t spend every night on his knees, then you’re delusional!”

“And so what if he does? Have you seen his boyfriend? I don’t think Erik’s getting the short end of the stick by any means.”

Jeff laughed politely when the other dancers did. Man but the ballerinas at NYADA gossiped more than Kurt, and they didn’t pull any punches. Most of the time it was amusing to listen to whether he agreed with it or not, but today he was eager to get home. He hadn’t been this excited since he graduated high school. He felt like everything in his life was starting anew - new semester, new classes, new loft, and his project which, if he played his cards right, might lead to something else new.

Something he’d wanted for a long time.

He just needed to find the man that would make that happen.

His man.

He lifted his eyes and glanced around, searching the crowd impatiently for his boyfriend.

It took only a single sweep of his eyes to find him.

As if Nick had called out his name, Jeff spotted him standing awkwardly off to the side, looking oddly uncomfortable. Jeff smiled, breaking through the crowd of dancers mid-sentence to greet his adorably clueless man.

Nick, with the sharpest wit of any person Jeff had ever met.

Nick, always so oblivious to how amazing he was.

Nick, the man Jeff swore he would someday marry.

Jeff greeted Nick the way he always did, by grabbing him around the waist and lifting him in the air, spinning him and kissing him breathless. It didn’t matter that they were on a busy street in the middle of the afternoon. It didn’t matter that a whole gaggle of people stared at them. Either way, whenever Jeff laid eyes on Nick, the rest of the world melted away until the only person that mattered was in Jeff’s arms.

“So, Mr. Handsome Law Student Extraordinaire,” he said, taking Nick’s hand and sticking it in his own jacket pocket, “how was your day?”

“Same old, same old,” Nick replied, staring down at his shoes as he walked through the slush.

“That bad, huh?”

“Yeah. And it got me thinking …” Nick swallowed hard “… actually, I may have been thinking about this off and on for a while now …” He didn’t enjoy broaching the subject of moving, especially when those plans didn’t necessarily include Jeff. Not that he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life with Jeff. He could see himself easily giving up law and spending the rest of his life traveling the country with Jeff, driving from one end of the continent to the other in Jeff’s 300ZX, concerned with nothing more pressing than where they would eat and what sites they would see. But he couldn’t ask Jeff to leave his life in New York. He loved Jeff, more than he loved himself. Asking Jeff to uproot his whole life just for him? That wasn’t something he could do. “You know, I … I don’t think I’m doing so well here.”

Jeff looked at Nick, eyes wide with surprise. “What do you mean?” he asked, guiding Nick through a crowd heading toward the subway.

“I don’t know … school kind of sucks, my internship is worse, and most of the time, I don’t feel like I fit in.”

“But I thought you were doing great in school.” Jeff led the way down the steep steps to the subway, paying their fare as they walked through the turnstile. “And didn’t Mr. Ryerson say you were one of his best interns?”

“Yeah, because I can walk five cups of coffee from the elevator to his office without spilling anything.”

Jeff found a bench and sat on it, pulling Nick into his lap. Nick looked around, self-conscious of who might be watching, but no one seemed to notice them.

“If they don’t appreciate you, fuck ‘em. Their loss.” Jeff took both of Nick’s hands in his and kissed them, warming Nick’s skin with his breath. “So if you don’t want to stay in New York, where should we go, Nicky?”

Nick stared at his boyfriend in disbelief, so nonchalant in the face of a total life change. “Wh-what do you mean ‘we’?”

“Well, if you’re moving away, I’m going with you.”

“But you have a life here,” Nick argued. “You’re top of your class. You’re making a name for yourself.”

“Nicky …” Jeff looked at Nick with hurt and confused eyes, his boyfriend clearly missing the obvious “… I chose a life here because you’re here. I can dance anywhere. There’s only one Nick.”

Nick’s gaze drifted slowly to their linked hands. “But … what if we weren’t meant to be together?” he said, remembering the dancers gathered around Jeff, the statuesque women, straight out of a Degas painting … and that one handsome man. “You and I, we’ve become so different really. I think that maybe, sometimes, we’re a little too different.”

Nick was afraid Jeff would get mad. Jeff didn’t usually get mad about anything. He had the heart of a pacifist. Still, Nick half-expected it. But Jeff looked at him calmly, ready to impart his sage Jeff wisdom that somehow managed to keep Nick sane during times of incredible self-doubt.

“Nicky, we’ve known each other since elementary school, and you’ve always been my best friend.”

“I know,” Nick said, giving in and resting his head against Jeff’s shoulder.

Jeff held Nick tighter against him. “Have you ever wondered why?”

“Wondered why what?”

“We barely ever fight, we always see eye to eye, we like the same stuff, we’re really hot in bed together …”

Nick blushed red to the roots of his hair but he couldn’t disagree. “I … guess I never really gave it any thought.”

“Because you belong with me, Nicky,” Jeff said, rocking his boyfriend in his arms. “You always have. And I belong with you. There isn’t anyone on heaven or earth who can do anything about that. So, if you’re leaving New York, I’m going with you. Got it? Unless …”

“Unless …?”

“Unless you … you don’t love me …” Jeff’s voice went hoarse, the words a struggle to say, his heart lodging itself in his throat to keep him from finishing “… and you don’t know how to tell me?”

Nick jerked up so quickly, he nearly knocked Jeff on the chin with his forehead. “No! Oh, Jeff! God, no! I’ve loved you since forever! Since before forever! And I always will! That’s not what this is about! I swear! Please don’t think for one minute …”

“Okay …” Jeff put gentle fingers to his boyfriend’s lips to stop his anxiety-fueled explaining. “That’s all I needed to know.”

Nick nodded, smiling as Jeff leaned in for a kiss, chaste and sweet. But when Jeff’s tongue slipped between Nick’s lips and the hard metal ball of his piercing danced against Nick’s tongue, he moaned.

That sound of bliss might have turned a head or two, but Nick didn’t notice.

“So,” Jeff said, “why don’t we head back to the loft and see how many times we can get our new neighbors to call the cops?”

Nick grinned. “Sounds like a plan.”

***

“So, no lab partner yet?” Blaine slid onto the bench at the lunch table Sebastian occupied alone, every book he needed for the semester spread out in front of him as he worked at playing catch up.

“Nah. Seems like the class is all evens and I’m the odd man out.”

“What are you going to do? That lab is half the grade.”

“It’s no biggie. Professor is going to let me be my own lab partner for now. Sort of academic masturbation.” Sebastian moved his plate closer to Blaine when he noticed him coveting his sweet potato fries. “Here. Have at it, tiger. I don’t need you drooling all over my homework. I don’t think I get extra credit for that.”

“Thanks.” Blaine wasted no time snagging a fry and dipping it in ketchup. “Well, that’s good. About the lab partner thing. It’d be awful to have your grade cut in half in the first few days after you lucked out with late admission and all. It’d be like they set you up to fail.”

“Yup. And I would have paid thousands for the privilege.”

“Brutal. So, are we on for Friday night?”

“Yup.” Sebastian snickered. “You and Kurt both texted me about the party at the same time. Now I know how he must have felt in high school – caught between two devastatingly handsome men.”

Blaine frowned at Sebastian’s attempt at humor. “Funny. That might not be the way he remembers it.”

Sebastian nodded to himself - a private note to start curbing his tongue … if he can remember. “I’m sure he doesn’t. I don’t either.”

Blaine picked up another fry, tapping it absentmindedly in the pool of ketchup on the plate. “And just so you know … I invited the study group.”

Sebastian arced an eyebrow his way. “And you’re telling me this why?”

“Because I may have noticed that you and Paul don’t exactly get along.”

“Was it that obvious? Because I was really trying to be subtle.”

“You may have missed the mark on that one by an inch or two.”

“Pity.” Sebastian grabbed a fry, deciding to join Blaine in the feeding frenzy to give his hands something to do. “Hey, just a question but have you ever told Kurt about Captain Pincushion?”

Blaine shrugged. “I must have.” He stopped munching a moment to give it some genuine thought. “Huh …”

“What do you mean huh?” Sebastian asked, squirreling another fry away before Blaine could lick the plate clean.

“To be honest, I don’t think he ever came up.”

“That’s convenient.”

“It’s not like that, man. We’re the leave work and school at the door types. That way we don’t spend the whole night rehashing the stress of the day. We just focus on each other.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Sebastian said, fidgeting his pen as the remainder of the fries made a hasty retreat into Blaine’s mouth. “But you guys do talk eventually, don’t you?”

“Of course we do,” Blaine said, looking only mildly offended. “We don’t keep secrets. Never have.”

“Well, I really think you should.”

Blaine’s head snapped up so quickly, Sebastian heard something crack. “You really think I should keep secrets from Kurt?”

“Tell Kurt about your lab partner!” Sebastian groaned.

“Okay, but I don’t know what you think there is to tell.”

“For one thing, that man has some serious eyes for you. He’s going to make a play for you, if he hasn’t already.”

“Paul?” Blaine snorted, the thought ludicrous. “What makes you think that?”

“Because …” Sebastian paused, managing to swipe the last stunted, overcooked fry, narrowly missing having his fingers bitten off “… it takes an asshole to know an asshole.”

#klaine fanfiction #klaine fic #klaine

23 notes · View notes

rawiswhore · 4 years

Text

Shawn Michaels x Fem Reader- “Nothing Compares 2 U”

In July of 1998, one of the most iconic, influential pro wrestlers of the 1990's made a return to the WWF.

Who is it?

Shawn Michaels!

You're so happy he's returned to the WWF, not only is he a legend and icon in pro wrestling, but he's arguably sexier than ever before in July of 1998.

His hair is somewhat shorter, not a buzzcut like John Cena and Randy Orton have, but he's cut a few inches of his hair off.

At the end of July 1998, when he returned to the WWF and it was the week of his birthday, you were lying in bed with him one night in a hotel room.

You were snuggled up next to Shawn, he not wearing a shirt and his arm wrapped around and behind you while your hand was caressing up and down his bare chest.

The lamp was on sitting on top of the nightstand next to the bed you and Shawn were sharing, you're hoping Shawn doesn't fall asleep yet.

"I've missed you so much" you confessed to him, your face looking at him.

"I've missed you too" he admitted, his fingers stroking a few strands of your hair. "I think the audience in general misses me!"

While Shawn did make a few appearances during the WWF's Attitude era from 1998 to 2002, some could even say 1997 and even 1996 is the Attitude era, it's a shame he wasn't there all throughout this era.

Though, would he have fit in with this era?

This is an era notorious for being very edgy, violent and downright shocking.

Then again, he was in D Generation X, who helped initiate the WWF's Attitude era and are part of the reason the company calls itself WWF Attitude.

When your hand caressed up and down his chest, he felt a rush travel throughout his body, your touch giving him tingles where you touched him.

He had an erection poking through his boxers he was sleeping in.

"You know how sexually promiscuous I was" you said "Do you know what the word 'promiscuous' means?"

"Of course!" he replied. "I've been a bit promiscuous myself too!"

You chuckled when he said that, at least he admits his promiscuity.

"You know I've fucked most of the roster, because some of them are sexy" you admitted "But you're the hottest out of any wrestler I've fucked"

You looked into his eyes when you confessed that, your head raising from the crook of his neck and leaning your face to his.

You also tried sounding sexy when you confessed Shawn is the sexiest wrestler you've fucked, your voice sounding huskier but sultry and sexy.

"Really?" he asked "Well, thanks!"

He probably agrees he was the hottest man in the WWF.

You nodded your head when he asked "really?", replying with "you're welcome" afterwards.

When your hand was caressing up and down his chest, his chest hair was slipping and sliding in between your fingers.

"Triple H, Hunter Hearst Helmsley is almost as sexy as you are" you admitted "But he's also a bit like Sable...in some angles he looks good, and in others he doesn't!"

Shawn probably disagrees with you about Sable and how she looks.

"You don't think Sable's all that hot?" he asked.

"Sometimes in a few angles and pictures she's beautiful" you admitted "But in other angles, she looks so much older than her age. I can't believe so many men go nuts over her!"

Debra is also that same way, yes, the same Debra who was married to Stone Cold and was Jeff Jarrett's valet.

Most of the WWF's audience in the Attitude era are horny teenage boys, and do these boys lust over Debra and Sable, despite them looking older than their age occasionally?

I've seen some people online admit they didn't like Sable and Debra when they were horny teenage boys and that those 2 WWF divas looked older than their age.

But you aren't here to talk about WWF divas. You're here to talk about the wrestlers you've fucked.

You have a bit of relationship OCD with Triple H.

Sometimes he looks hot as hell, but other times he doesn't, and you look at him to see if he's th

"Jeff Hardy, from that Hardy Boyz duo" you brought up "Oh God, now he is someone just as sexy as you are"

Your voice was using a lot of emphasis when you gushed over Jeff Hardy's appearance.

"I know who Jeff is" Shawn mentioned "They remind me of the Rockers duo I used to be in"

He should know who Jeff is, you've had a few orgies with Jeff and Shawn.

The Hardy Boyz eventually would be the Attitude era's equivalent to the Rockers, and Jeff would become the Shawn Michaels of the duo.

Jeff would eventually become a major sex symbol in the WWF/E, where teenage girls would shriek and scream their lungs out when he took his shirt off, and 95% of wrestling fanfiction in the early 2000's would be slash fanfiction shipping Jeff and Matt Hardy.

Doesn't Jeff sight Shawn as a wrestling influence?

Since Shawn brought up the Rockers...

"Speaking of the Rockers" you mentioned "Marty Jannetty, he has such a cute little baby face, like a Cabbage Patch Kid"

You moved one of your hands to your face and pinched your cheek with your fingers.

Shawn chuckled when you demonstrated that, smiling at your confession.

His chuckling spread to you, and you couldn't help but laugh and giggle at that.

"Even though Marty is pretty cute" you admitted "He looks a lot older than he is, doesn't he? And mullets are starting to get outdated, aren't they?"

Shawn would agree with you on that, nodding his head, chuckling and smiling.

"That's why I got rid of that mullet!" he chirped.

"I'm glad you got rid of it" you confessed "You look so much sexier without it"

You put emphasis on the word "so" when you gushed over his looks.

"Thanks!" he chirped.

"You're welcome" you replied, grinning at him from ear to ear.

Marty actually got so much hotter as he got older, and surprisingly, he aged better (in the looks department) than 2010's Shawn in my opinion...

Since you're on the subject of the Rockers...

"Leif Cassidy, that other new Rocker" you mentioned, though Shawn knows who Leif Cassidy is, he even "He was pretty cute, though his hair sometimes looked terrible"

His gimmick was terrible too; his character was meant to be someone completely stuck and trapped in the 1970's and his name is a combination of 2 70's teen heartthrobs.

"He lost his looks when he grew facial hair" you admitted.

Fun fact: Leif Cassidy would eventually become Al Snow, yes, THAT Al Snow who held a female mannequin head and started those sexual innuendo laced "Head!" chants during the Attitude era.

And since you're on the subject of tag team duos...

"Billy Gunn, he was the hottest one in that New Age Outlaws duo" you confessed "But I hate that bowl cut he has now"

You frowned and pouted after you admitted your opinion on his haircut he'd have throughout 1998.

"Is he gonna have that bowlcut for the rest of his wrestling career?" you asked Shawn.

He shrugged his shoulders.

He probably won't, since most popular hairstyles don't last forever.

"Even though he is pretty cute" you admitted "He does have a big forehead and beady little eyes"

He looks slightly like a caveman.

"Bart Gunn, his former Smoking Gunns partner" you brought up "He's getting so much sexier now that his hair has grown longer"

He looks like Val Kilmer as well as a cross between 2 WWE stars: John Morrison and Randy Orton.

"I feel sorry for Bart, though" you admitted, frowning and pouting "Now he's in that stupid Brawl for All that no one likes"

"That Val Venis wrestler who plays a porn star" Shawn brought up "Did you fuck him behind the scenes?"

"Oh yeah!" you confessed, nodding your head and laughing, embarrassed that you admitted you've banged him.

Of course you had to bang him, both on "Monday Night Raw" where your character plays a promiscuous nymphomaniac and behind the scenes when the cameras weren't rolling.

Even though he's a major sex symbol in the WWF, his looks, though...

"Val Venis is both ugly and sexy at the same time" you confessed. "There's some techno musician out there called Aphex Twin, and Val looks like the guy from Aphex Twin, I swear!"

"I think I've heard of them before" Shawn admitted. "I'll have to look them up"

"The resemblance is uncanny!" you added.

You didn't want Shawn to fall asleep too soon, and your eyelids were fighting to stay awake.

Though, Shawn pretty much is up all night hearing you chatter about wrestlers you've banged, as well as up all night from you caressing his bare chest, try to guess that double entendre...

"What about that Rob Van Dam guy from ECW?" he asked and brought up.

"Oh, now he's just as sexy as you are!" you gushed "He almost was in the WWF but wasn't for some reason..."

Probably because you kept letting him fuck you during his short stint in the WWF circa May and June 1997.

Since you're discussing wrestlers and other wrestling companies...

"Bret Hart is sort of like Triple H and Sable" you confessed "As in, sometimes he looks sexy, but other times he doesn't, especially when his hair is way too curly"

There's another hot member of the Hart Foundation who you could say was the British Bret Hart...

"Davey Boy Smith, he's definitely pretty sexy" you admitted "Though he does have a bit of a lazy eye and he's a bit on the big side"

Oddly enough, Shawn would develop a lazy eye 2 decades later.

"I can't decide if Davey was hotter with short hair or long hair" you admitted "Though, what was up with those cornrows he used to wear? Who told him that was a good look?"

Shawn chuckled and laughed hearing you complain about that.

And you didn't find it racist about Davey wearing cornrows because it was the 1990's and cultural appropriation wasn't an issue back then like it is today.

Nowadays, Davey would get bashed badly for cultural appropriation for being a caucasian British man wearing cornrows.

"Since when do British white people wear cornrows?" you asked. "That's the first thing I think of when I think of England, fucking cornrows"

You saying that was making Shawn laugh and helping him stay awake.

Wonder if the people in the rooms next to you can hear your conversation with Shawn?

Even though the two of you aren't having sex, you are talking about men you've fucked and banged.

There's another member of the Hart Foundation you fucked backstage...

"And there's Brian Pillman" you huffed, getting sad when you bring him up. "He was pretty handsome back in October of '96, though I'm wondering if he's the least sexiest of all the wrestlers I've fucked"

Your mood is changing when you're talking about him, hopefully tears won't well in your eyes considering he died last year.

You tried changing your mood and tone of your voice to bring up someone else...

"Scott Taylor, y'know, Too Hot Scott Taylor?" you mentioned "He is a little bit cute, even though he has a mullet"

Scott Taylor looked terrible back in 1994 when his hair was a completely straight mullet with no curls, you wouldn't bang THAT Scott.

Fun fact: 2 years later, Scott Taylor would eventually become Scotty 2 Hotty in that 2 Cool group/faction who were like the Attitude Era's equivalent to The New Day, yeah, THAT Scotty 2 Hotty who did the Worm in the ring, you even danced with 2 Cool in the ring 2 years later.

He lost his looks when he became Scotty 2 Hotty, though he was at least updated for the year 2000 with that spiky frosted tip hair and trimmed boyband beard.

"Lex Luger" you brought up. "I actually do think he's pretty handsome, though he kind of looks like he has some sort of facial disorder"

He looks like that infamous "tanning mom", the mom who infamously tanned herself to oblivion.

But you and everyone else didn't know about who the Tanning Mom was since this fanfic is set in the 90's.

"Why are you bringing all of these men up?" Shawn asked.

It's about time he asks why.

"Because I've had sex with them" you confessed "But I even wonder if it was worth it for me to bang them"

Sexual promiscuity is dangerous, especially unprotected.

It leads to STD's, HIV and AIDS that kill you.

He nodded his head.

"I've worried about you being promiscuous" he admitted.

"I haven't been all that sexually promiscuous this year, or even all that sexually active" you confessed "I've only really it done it with maybe..."

You paused at finishing your sentence to count on your fingers how many wrestling related people you've fucked this year, so far, anyway.

"7 people" you admitted. "And you're one of them"

You smiled, grinned and looked into his eyes when you said that.

He smiled and grinned right back at you, chuckling.

Shawn knows about who some of the other people you've fucked this year, he was even involved in some of those orgies with them!

Since you're mentioning people in the WWF you've banged this year, as well as last year (and the year before that)...

Since you're on the subject of wrestling related people you've fucked this year (as well as last year and the year before)...

"Don Callis, that Jackyl commentator and manager" you brought up "He actually is pretty hot, he looks like a sexier, gothic Howard Stern almost"

Shawn laughed and chuckled hearing your comparison, agreeing he does look a bit like Howard, but hotter.

"Also, that Truth Commission group he managed" you mentioned "I thought of fucking one of the Truth Commissioner guys, he had blue eyes and made these really funny facial expressions"

Shawn was trying to think of his name after hearing that.

"It's not that really big one Kurrgan" you stated. "He's ugly"

Since you're speaking about the Truth Commission...

"They actually had a match with 3 jobbers last year in the summer" you brought up "One of those jobbers, I think his name was Al Brown, was wearing a really ugly dark green singlet, but he's cute"

Even though he's a bit on the hefty side, though he is thicc and his ass was protruding through his singlet.

"I feel sorry for jobbers" you confessed "Not just because they always lose, but they're barely ever used and pushed in wrestling"

Shawn probably can't agree with that, considering he always wanted to win matches like the selfish prick he was in the 90's.

"Some jobbers are cute" you admitted "I'm sure some people would like to see them more, myself included"

You've banged a few jobbers and thought of doing them, and while you're on the subject of jobbers...

"There's one jobber named Jerry Fox who I think is pretty cute" you admitted "He has long brown hair, usually tied in a ponytail, he's surprisingly had matches with Hunter Hearst Helmsley and Mankind!"

Your hand wasn't just rubbing his chest, but drawing circles with the tip of your index finger on his chest as well.

"There's one jobber I thought of fucking, his name is Sonny Rogers" you confessed. "He had a match with Stone Cold last year and I think even won the match against Stone Cold, surprisingly"

"I think I know who you're talking about" Shawn stated.

"Stone Cold beat the crap out of Sonny" you added. "Which is what should happen"

You don't hate Sonny, but Stone Cold could easily kick Sonny's ass.

"Another one I've contemplated fucking is Brian Christopher, he's Jerry Lawler's son" you confessed. "He, I mean Brian Christopher, is a little cute, but he looks like a bootleg Davey Boy Smith"

Shawn laughed hearing that.

Brian Christopher really does look like a Great Value Brand Davey Boy Smith.

"At least Brian Christopher is better looking than his father" you stated.

You'd never fuck Jerry Lawler, that fat, bloated, woman objectifying, Trump supporting, statutory rapist pedophile creep.

"Scott Putski, he's in WCW and had a short lived stint in the WWF last year" you brought up. "He is quite sexy, though he looks more Mexican or Native American, not Polish"

You're not trying to sound racist when saying how he looks like he could be Mexican or Native American.

Shawn nodded his head and agreed with you about how Scott looks Mexican or Native American.

"He's Ivan Putski's son, isn't he?" Shawn asked "I used to watch Ivan growing up"

You nodded your head after Shawn asked if Scott is Ivan's son.

Shawn shouldn't have asked if Scott is Ivan's son, he knows it.

"I regret asking if Scott is Ivan's son" he admitted.

"It's fine, really" you consoled. "Bob Holly, a.k.a. Spark Plugg, Spark E. Plugg who used to have that racecar driver gimmick"

Shawn knows who you're referring to, he's even had some matches with Bob.

"Bob is pretty handsome" you admitted "But he has such an overbite, I was skeptical in fucking him"

You moved your hand in front of your mouth and made your hand talk by pronouncing his overbite, making your hand pull away from your mouth and your fingers scrunch up into the palm of your hand as your hand pulled away from your mouth.

Shawn chuckled and laughed hearing you talk about Bob's teeth.

"He's in that new Midnight Express with Bart Gunn, isn't he?" Shawn asked.

You nodded your head.

The New Midnight Express was one of the few things from the Attitude era that was a complete flop.

"He has blond hair now" Shawn mentioned "He looks like Ric Flair in the early 80's with that blond hair"

It isn't just wrestlers you've fucked, but 2 commentators as well.

No, it isn't Jim Ross, Jerry Lawler and Vince McMahon, though you have banged Shawn Michaels, Triple H, Brian Pillman and Bret Hart, who've all sat at the commentary table (Shawn is even sitting at the commentary table during his stint in the WWF during the summer of 1998).

They're these commentators in 1997 dressed in tuxedos at the commentary table, I can't remember their names, but they look way better than the typical commentators at the WWF table.

"There were these 2 commentators I fucked last year" you admitted "I can't remember their names, it isn't Jim Ross, Jerry Lawler, Vince McMahon, or Jim Cornette, these 2 men were dressed in tuxedos"

Shawn can't think of what their names are either, they might've even spoken French too.

"They were pretty handsome" you admitted "At least they looked better than who's usually sitting at the commentary table, but they're not as hot as you are"

Your eyes looked at Shawn and you grinned wickedly when you looked at him, the tip of your index finger gently scratching his chest.

No pro wrestler will ever be hotter than Shawn Michaels.

He's the hottest pro wrestler of all time. Of ALL time.

"Even though I've banged a lot of men in the WWF" you confessed, which Shawn already knows "You're the hottest I've fucked"

You said this as you looked into his eyes and leaned your face into his.

"Nothing, no one compares to you" you admitted "Nothing compares, nothing compares to you"

You sang that to the tune of Sinead O'Connor's biggest hit and signature song.

"Awwwww, thanks" Shawn said, smiling and having an "aaw, shucks" expression on his face.

"You're welcome" you replied, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I wonder if I should've fucked some of those men I've mentioned? They're not as hot as you are"

You mostly only have sex with men you think are sexy.

"I don't want you to die from AIDS" Shawn confessed.

"I know" you frowned "I don't wanna die either"

"You're so beautiful" Shawn gushed, putting his hand on the side of your face and pushing it so your face will look at his. "I love you"

"I love you too" you admitted.

Shawn leaned his face into your face and planted a kiss on your lips, where you kissed him back.

You've talked enough with Shawn tonight, so you lifted your hand and switched the lamp to off, where the room was now completely dark.

Even though it was dark, you can still somewhat see him in the dark.

"Goodnight Shawn" you said to him.

"Goodnight" he replied, where the two of you kissed each others lips again, until you buried your head into the crook of his neck and shut your eyes.

He puckered his lips to your forehead one more time until he closed his eyes, waiting to drift off to sleep.

Remember that episode of "South Park" where there was a list of the cutest boys at South Park elementary, and Kyle was the lowest?

Shawn would be at the top of your list of the hottest wrestlers you've banged, and Jeff Hardy, Rob Van Dam, Triple H, even Bret Hart would follow.

The ones at the bottom?

Al Brown (the chubby jobber who was in one "Monday Night Raw" match and never used again, Brian Pillman and Val Venis.

Even though Shawn is undeniably attractive, he does have some flaws to him.

For starters, he was inexplicably rude and disrespectful to people, just look at what he did to poor Davey Boy Smith when Davey wanted to win a match in his native England to dedicate it to his dying sister, and he made Vader cry.

And, while Shawn is sexy, he does have somewhat of this "80's/90's" cheesy guy vibe and look to him, the types of cheesy guys who wear those tight jeans in the 80's and 90's with smarmy, smug smiles and facial expressions.

Months and years later, there would be more men in the WWF/E that would become sex symbols as well as 2 men who joined the WWF you fucked.

Who are they?

Christian and Test.

Christian is absolutely gorgeous, he's easily the hottest member of the Brood, and Test is quite pretty as well, though that facial hair on him makes him look a bit redneck like.

You also banged Stevie Richards, the same Stevie Richards who was in that infamous Right to Censor group in the year 2000 and was in the Blue World Order in ECW.

Stevie's hot when he doesn't have facial hair...or that tacky Billy Ray Cyrus mullet he had in 1995.

You even banged Brian Kendrick/Spanky back in 2003, he's so cute.

Even though you'd love to bang Dean Ambrose, CM Punk and John Morrison in the late 2000's, Tyler Breeze, Adam Cole when he was in CZW and maybe even the Miz and Matt Riddle, you're married with children now.

Your sexual escapades and pro wrestling are similar to one another, why?

The hottest, best looking ones are the main events (Shawn Michaels, Davey Boy Smith, Bret Hart, Triple H), the mid carders are pretty cute but not enough (Billy Gunn, Val Venis, Marty Jannetty and Leif Cassidy), and while the lower card jobbers are pretty cute, they're not much to write home about.

Though, there's some hot mid carders and jobbers and some ugly wrestlers that are main events (Vader, Hulk Hogan, Macho Man, Undertaker, etc.).

There's probably some other cute/hot wrestlers in the WWF circa 1996/1997/1998 I haven't mentioned in this fanfic that I haven't seen.

#shawn michaels #wwf #1998 #90s #attitude era #wwf attitude #fanfiction

6 notes · View notes

insidious-intent · 5 years

Text

Brother Lover, Lover Brother

Instead of working on Wrong Trousers, here I am with the beginning of another long fic. This is the idea where instead of a clone, Michael instead has an identical twin. Shoutout to @larenoz for helping me with Michael’s twin’s name :)

The first phone call Alex made after receiving the job offer email was Jim Valenti. It’s been almost a decade since he officially became a Valenti, burying the Manes name, and legacy, and fear all with it. The day Jesse Manes was taken away from the house in handcuffs, Jim had promised Alex he would have a better life, and Alex has made damn sure of it.

At age twelve Alex had promised himself he would have a better life, and sitting there in his first office, for his first real job a single week after graduation; Alex almost felt a sense of accomplishment. He was well on his way to achieving that goal of a better life. He turned around to look outside the window of his moderate sized office and let himself feel a moment of contentment.

His phone rang where it was sat on his desk, and Alex glanced over to see Kyle’s drunk smile staring at him. Smiling, Alex picked up the phone. “Hey bro,” he greeted his adoptive brother.

“Bruh! You situated in your new digs? How does it feel to be working at Antar?” Kyle greeted him with his usual exuberance.

“I’ve got a plushie chair and floor to ceiling windows. I think I finally made it,” Alex laughed his response.

“So you’re like a big shot coder dude now?”

“Kyle, man, I explained this to you. I’m not a coder, I’m a Securities Design Engineer. Do I call you a kiddie doctor?”

Kyle’s laugh filled him with joy, just like it always did. When he went from best friend to adopted brother, Alex wasn’t sure how Kyle would handle the change. The brief period when they were fourteen and Alex came out to his family were the toughest, and he was sure Kyle’s anger was going to turn into hate. But Jim and Michelle never let that happen, and by the time Alex left for MIT, he was happy to have his brother back. His real brother.

Kyle was still talking on the other end. “Fine dude, but now that you’re back in Roswell, and have a cushy job, it’s time for us to get you a man! You’re too hot to be so tragically single, and I have a moral duty to find you the hottest guy now that we’re back home.”

Alex sighed at Kyle’s enthusiasm. He had made the mistake of sharing his life plans with Kyle right before they went off to college, and Kyle has not forgotten how Alex planned to be in a steady relationship by the age of twenty-five. And now he was going to use all his brotherly knowledge to embarrass Alex.

“Kyle seriously, I do not need your help with getting dates. Do not even think about it, I’m warning you.”

“I’m just being a good brother.”

“I won’t hesitate to get mom involved. You know how she feels about you not not dating,” Alex shot back.

“Alex! I thought we talked about this!” Kyle’s shocked response was almost a squeal.

Alex grinned and turned towards the door. And suddenly felt all the breath leaving his body in a whoosh. The most gorgeous man Alex had ever laid eyes on was standing at his office door, and Alex felt like he was dreaming. The man had the most gorgeous amber eyes, honey blond curls cropped short on the sides, long on top. A tempting curl hung over an eye. The man wore a well cut, well-fitted navy suit, and seeing him leaning there with a smirk on his face felt like the beginning of the best kind of dream.

“Kyle, I’ll call you back,” Alex whispered and hung up before he could hear a response.

“I didn’t mean to intrude,” the handsome stranger said, sauntering inside the office.

“Oh no,” Alex stuttered, “my brother was just calling to check in.”

“How very family oriented of you,” the man smirks. “I just wanted to come introduce myself to the newest addition to the Securities team. I’m Chris,” he said with an extended hand.

If Alex was a little too enthusiastic handshake, no one had to know. He couldn’t help but notice how smooth Chris’ clearly manicured hand was, smooth and soft.

“I would love to take you out,” Chris said, “to lunch of course.”

Alex couldn’t believe his luck. He had a degree, a great job, and now the man of his dreams just asked him out. Life was really good.

***

“Wow dude, if I’d known you were on such a lucky streak I’d have made you buy a lottery ticket,” Kyle yelled wrapping an arm around Alex’s shoulder as soon as they walked in through the doors of their favorite bar and restaurant, The Wild Pony. Hopefully Maria was there tonight to save Alex from the onslaught of brotherly love.

Speaking of the woman. “Alex has always been the luckiest one,” came Maria’s voice from behind the bar. Alex gave her a grateful smile, knowing his friend wouldn’t let his brother get too overzealous.

“Deluca, you don’t even know the half of it. This guy here starts at the biggest defense contract firm in New Mexico and already has a date with a hot guy!” Kyle announced with a flourish, taking a seat right next to Alex at the bar.

“Ok it isn’t like I’m dating the guy,” Alex clarified. “Yet.”

Maria laughed. “Who is this man who stole your heart so quickly? Give us some details here, Alex.”

“Ok, so. His name is Chris, he works in my company, hot as hell, wears extremely well-tailored suits, and has curls that I want to push my fingers through all the time. So yeah basically the man of my dreams,” Alex said.

“Chris? With curls? That seems very familiar,” Maria mused while pouring them a drink.

Kyle looked at Maria, “you know this guy?”

Maria pushed the drinks at them, “I think he might be this guy I’ve seen hanging out with the Evans twins.”

“Isobel and Max? Damn, Alex I think you bagged a rich dude,” Kyle answered.

Alex was curious now, “you know the Evans twins? Aren’t they like Roswell royalty?”

Maria’s response was laughter. “Yes they are. Their parents started the company you’re working for now, and combined they have more degrees than half the town. Isobel’s boyfriend is the one who got Liz’s dad through the whole citizenship ordeal, and Liz and Max dated for a while.”

Alex had so much hometown gossip to catch up on, and from all the nodding Kyle was doing, he knew all this before Alex did. But tonight was about celebrating life moving in the right direction for him, and Alex didn’t want his family and friends forgetting him for gossip.

“You guys are here to celebrate with me, not update me on the lifestyles of the rich and the famous. Let’s get back to drinking,” he said, slapping his hands on the bar counter.

“And what about your rich hottie?” Kyle jokingly asked.

“That’s definitely the kindest way you’ve described me so far, Kyle,” came a new voice from behind Alex, and he whirled around to see Chris standing behind him. He looked just as delectable in dark skinny jeans and a plaid shirt under a leather jacket, as he did with a suit.

“Guerin? You’re my brother’s object of desire?” Kyle asked, bewildered. He turned to look at Alex with a faint sense of hurt, as if Alex did something wrong here by finding an attractive man, attractive.

Shit. So the handsome guy Alex was lusting after was none other than the son of Rath Guerin, one of the two founders of Antar Inc. the company he started working at. Today. The potential for disaster was high, but one look at Chris in those tight jeans made Alex forget all about the risks of wanting the son of the company’s president.

“Hello to you too, Kyle. Maria, how are you?” Chris asked, throwing a smile at Maria that had her blushing in return. He sat on the other side of Alex with a brush of his fingers on Alex’s shoulder, and then it was Alex’s turn to blush.

The rest of the evening passed in a pleasant hazy blur for Alex. Despite the less than stellar start, Kyle managed to warm up to Chris, who was all around charming and funny. And at the end of the night, he placed a hand low on Alex’s back to ask him if Alex could walk him back to his car.

Standing in the parking lot’s semi-darkness, surrounded only by the dark landscape of the New Mexico desert and the loud noises of the Pony, Alex felt like he was walking on sunshine. Even though he hadn’t expected to run into Chris that night, he was glad at how well he fit with his friends, and now he hoped to end the night with a kiss.

Chris played with his sleeves for a moment, before looking up and smiling at Alex. “I had a good time tonight. I think your brother finally likes me.”

Alex laughed, “yeah he doesn’t always trust the guys I want to date.”

“Oh? Are you saying you want to date me, Alex?”

Alex stumbled, trying to recover quick. “Uh, I mean, I don’t have- we don’t need -”

Chris kept smiling as he got a hold of Alex’s jacket lapel and pulled him close. “I guess this counts as the first date then,” he said softly, his eyes moving down to Alex’s lips.

Alex’s heart was thudding in his chest. He like he was on fire everywhere his body touched Chris’ body, and his eyes couldn’t move away from his lips. Alex wanted to kiss him so bad.

“If this is a date,” Chris starts, “can it end with a kiss?”

Instead of responding, Alex grabs his face and kisses him. The kiss was everything Alex wanted, and yes he may not have any idea what he was going to do the next day when reality dumped ice water on his head, but tonight, in the arms of the handsomest man he’d seen, Alex felt like all his dreams were coming true.

#roswell new mexico #malex #malex fic #brief alex x oc #alex manes #kyle valenti #maria deluca #chris guerin #michael guerin #my fic #my writing #this part does not have malex #but the next one will

25 notes · View notes

planetsam · 5 years

Note

can u follow up michael seeing alex in his uniform with the septum ring?

Part 1 is here

Michael has a streak of WD-40 across his nose and Alex can’t take his eyes off it.

Alex has gone through a multitude of distinct looks in his life. Phases, as his father used to call them. Phases was Jesse Manes’ term for anything he didn’t like that he thought should stop. Some phases ended. He didn’t wear fishnets or chokers as often. Some phases had not. He still wanted to rip off every piece of clothing Michael had on. He pushes the urge aside and watches instead as Michael works. He’s taken apart most of the prosthetic, each piece is carefully laid out along the newspaper he’s covered Alex’s table with and most of them are labeled as well. Michael’s bent over the socket, a look of concentration on his face as he works. Alex wishes that he wasn’t so intimately acquainted with Michael concentrating and working on his body.

“Can I get you something?” He asks. Michael glances up. He’s not startled because Michael is always aware of his surroundings. For a multitude of reasons that make Alex ache to think about, “coffee? Tea? Beer?”

“You keep offering,” Michael observes, “I told you, I’m good.”

“Okay,” Alex says, trying to think of the last time he offered.

“Tell me about dinner,” Michael says, refocusing him, “where we going?”

He knows the intention is to keep him from offering Michael yet another round of drinks he doesn’t want. He’s got the combination of nerves and excitement that only Michael seems able to bring up in him. Dinner should be a neutral topic, dinner can be casual and easy. He asked Michael to have dinner but he’s asked him to grab beers before. There’s nothing explicit about it that says date. Or there wouldn’t be if Alex hadn’t set himself up for something truly humiliating. No, he tells himself, he can be casual about this. He can watch Michael rotate the joints of his leg and think about all the things those fingers can do to appendages with nerve endings and he can be casual. Easy.

“I figured I could put a couple steaks on,” he says, “I got a grill.”

It would be easy to mistake the tension that comes into Michael’s broad shoulders for a million other things. The give away is that he stops working on Alex’s leg and looks up at him.

“You’re cooking?” Michael repeats. Alex shrugs.

“It seemed fair,” he says, nodding to the leg.

It would be easy to misconstrue this as another thing he’s doing to avoid being seen with Michael in public. He knows that. Michael could argue and he could explain the thought process behind it. But some force is kind or maybe Michael just knows him really well because he recognizes the gesture for what it is. Michael has a weakness for home cooked food Alex is keenly aware of. Eating at home means he can hide the acetone in anything. It means there’s a kitchen and someone willing to cook in it. It means a lot of things. Most telling is how it takes Michael a full minute and one impossibly long blink to give a quick nod and go back to the leg.

“Sounds good,” he says.

Alex tries not to smile and fails miserably. Michael refocuses on the leg but his body curls over it. Alex knows his retreats, even the small ones. Michael has always had the uncanny ability to make him smile. Even sarcastically. For a man who professes to be angry at everything, this is somewhat of a unique talent. But Michael has always been unaware of the joy he can bring to the people around him. Alex watches him as he frowns at something and reaches for the oil before he relaxes again.

“Can you pass me that screw?” Michael asks, nodding to the screw near Alex’s elbow. Alex picks it up and rolls it across. Michael catches it, “thanks,” he says.

“Why don’t you use your power?” Alex asks.

“Hmm?”

“You’re telekinetic,” Alex points out, “but I never see you slip up with your powers.”

Michael goes red around the ears, but his hand’s don’t stop working.

“Not around you,” he says. Alex waits. Michael sets down the screwdriver, “I’m used to controlling them around you,” he says.

“How come?”

Finally Michael scowls.

“What do you mean ‘how come’?” He says, “I didn’t want you to be afraid of me.”

“Your powers never scared me,” Alex tells him. Michael gives him one of those self deprecating smiles, “I think they’re cool.”

Michael stares at him. Despite how badly he wants to look away and be embarrassed, he finds he can’t. Michael’s moments of true vulnerability have always been few and far between. Usually there’s some kind of barrier between them. Some defense that gets in the way. It’s not Michael being a miserable liar, though God knows he’s that, it’s him letting his guard stay down for more than a fraction of a moment. By choice. He hasn’t chosen to do that in front of Alex for a long time. They came close last night, but seeing it fully in his kitchen with Michael holding his leg and WD-40 on his nose is something Alex finds he’s not expecting. Equally surprising is the warm feeling that curls through him. It’s something he’s managed to bury when it comes to Michael for a long time. Michael looks back at the leg and reaches for the next part before stopping and looking back at him.

“You think they’re cool?” Michael repeats.

“Yes,” he says, seeing no reason to hide it except that Michael doesn’t seem to believe him, “you can move things with your mind. You’re like a Jedi.”

“No,” Michael says, “I’m an alien.”

“Aliens can be Jedi,” Alex starts before realizing that Michael is teasing him, “stop being an asshole. It’s hard to cook on three legs,” he says.

“Well stop distracting me,” Michael says.

“How am I distracting you?” Alex asks.

In his head he almost expects Michael to say he’s always distracting him or some cheesy romantic line like that. No, he’s not expecting. He’s hoping. Kind of. Though truth be told he has no idea what he’ll do if that’s the move Michael is going to pull. But instead of some suave or brutally honest line, Michael sets down the tool he’s using and fixes him with a painfully direct look.

“Is it in?” He asks.

Now it’s his turn to blush. When Michael brought it up last night, Alex hadn’t been expecting it. He’d gotten it rashly, after a particularly heated argument that turned violent. When, half blind with rage, he had decided that if anyone was going to leave marks on his body it was going to be him. Most of the jewelry he’d sported in his youth had been fake in one way or another but not that. Obviously he didn’t put jewelry in it often anymore, but the hole was still there. And he did still have a few rings. Michael looks at his eyes but his gaze keep flicking to his nose. Alex sighs and ducks his head, turning the horseshoe barbell over. He sits up and looks at Michael.

Michael drops the screwdriver.

Michael never drops his tools. For as long as Alex has been watching his hands, which is longer than he cares to admit, he never drops things. But the screwdriver rolls towards him. Alex tears his gaze from Michael’s unfathomable one and catches the screwdriver with his foot before it can roll away. He ducks down and from that angle he watches Michael get up. His mouth goes dry with anticipation. Usually Alex thinks of the horror that happened in the shed. But for the first time he thinks of standing there with Michael in front of him, wanting him. The septum ring and Michael’s healed hand help. But nothing gets him there faster than when he sits up and Michael is standing in front of him. Alex sets the screwdriver down carefully. He could do any number of things and in a moment all are appealing. The WD-40 is dark against the newspaper and Alex thinks of all the marks Michael has left on him. Does he want more?

“It looks good,” Michael says hoarsely, like his voice isn’t used to giving compliments but fuck if he’s not willing to try.

“You seemed curious,” Alex says.

“Alex—“ he heard the hesitation, the doubt, “can you look at me?”

Alex presses his dry lips together. It’s completely irrational how despite all the preparation he’s done in anticipation of this moment, now that he’s here he doesn’t know how to move forward. He forces himself into the pain and turns around. Michael’s in front of him but he’s crouched down, putting them on equal height. He has always told himself that Michael has the ability to run from him and that he needs to go first if he has any chance of surviving this. Michael can run but he doesn’t. Alex can’t but he—he doesn’t know if he wants to. He hates that feeling.

And Michael still has WD-40 on his nose.

“You’ve got,” he motions to his nose, “come here.”

Michael frowns but leans forward. Alex grabs a tissue and wipes at the smudge. He gets most of it but there’s still oil on Michael’s skin. This is the closest they’ve been in months. Michael’s got a hand on the table behind him and this close, Alex can see his eyelashes and his freckles and all the little parts of him he hasn’t been able to see. Michael is trying intently to look at his eyes but the horseshoe keeps distracting him. Of all the Michael’s Alex knows, distracted by shiny things Michael is among his favorites.

“So do you keep it in and like up there the whole time or—“ he trails off, looking at him for an answer.

Alex kisses him instead.

Michael presses into the kiss and Alex winds up with his back against the table. Michael’s arm braces his side, compensating for the fact that he’s got nothing to keep him grounded on that side. Alex grips Michael’s shoulders and neck, pulling him closer and finally hooks his knee around the back of Michael’s things. Michael pulls back just enough to swear like it’s the hottest thing Alex has ever done before surging forward. Alex doesn’t have a name for the sound he makes when Michael licks into his mouth and the reason he’s refused coffee becomes apparent. He tastes like mint. He brushed his teeth. Alex buries his fingers in Michael’s curls, angling his head and kissing him deeper. The smell of grease and tools spikes the adrenaline through him but he uses that to kiss him harder, pulling him closer until they are pressed together and the table and Michael are the only things keeping him upright. The need to leave slips away and getting closer is the only thought that takes his mind.

“Wait wait wait,” Michael pulls back, his lips flushed and swollen as he rocks his forehead against Alex’s, “I gotta—“ his eyes open and drag to the metal in Alex’s nose. A low sound escapes him and Alex decides not to help by rocking his hips forward, “fuck. Alex,” Michael swears and his name is just as much a curse.

“Yes,” he gets out, “you should do that.”

“Shit, come on,” Michael looks around blankly and Alex has never hated the fact that he needs crutches without his leg more. It doesn’t make him less hard but the embarrassment is sharp, “fuck it,” Michael looks at him, “you said my powers were cool?”

No way.

Alex nods.

“Okay hang on,” Michael says and grips his thigh that’s still around the back of his legs. Michael’s brow furrows and there’s a feel of pressure around the stump of his leg. It feels like sinking into a pit of foam, the pressure that surrounds his leg is perfect in a way no sleeve has been able to replicate. Alex pushes himself up and it’s almost seamless with how he can put pressure on it. His lips part as he looks down, the air around his stump is warped slightly but it’s holding, “good?”

“Holy shit,” Alex says faintly, “how long—“

“Long enough,” Michael says.

Alex kisses him in front of the island with the smell of oil and metal and a leg he doesn’t need for the next few minutes behind him. Michael’s body heat spikes with the use of his power. The finite control takes more out of him than the large explosions, or maybe it’s just using it on him. But his kisses turn fevered and softer. Alex drags him over to the couch and pushes him down, following him. The power squeezes his leg and then releases him, but Alex has already taken his weight onto his knees, straddling Michael’s thigh. Michael flattens his foot and pushes up, seeking the friction. Alex flattens his hand on his pelvis, pushing him back down.

“Fuck,” Michael swears again, looking up at him. Alex feels himself smile and Michael full on whimpers, “come on,” He squirms up and it’s hot and sexy and Alex suspects has just as much to do with him and his nose ring as it does with the unfinished project, “Alex,” Michael whines his name and it sends all his blood going south.

“Let me see you,” he gets out and Michael stares back at him.

He nods messily as Alex holds them both there. It’s torture. But it’s torture of the best kind. He said he wanted to know Michael more than just instinctively. More than just dark fucks and stolen moments. They’re in the middle of the open living room, there’s nothing quick or secretive about the fact that he would have to crawl away and Michael is spread underneath him, pinned in a different fashion. He pushes up Michael’s shirt and Michael rocks back and then curls up to help him get it off without having to rearrange themselves. Alex throws his shirt to the side and pushes back into Michael’s heat. He tries to keep some space between them but he feels something invisible tug his belt lightly in a silent request. Alex pulls back and Michael stares up at him, fear starting in his eyes as if he’s unsure of the boundary he may have crossed.

“Can you fuck with your power?” Alex asks.

The fear vanishes.

“You—“ Michael looks up at him, even more wrecked, “you can’t talk about my powers and fucking.”

“How come?” Alex asks, trying to sound as devil may care as Michael usually manages to.

“Because I’m gonna finish before we get our hands on each other,” Michael tells him.

That makes Alex grin.

Michael whimpers.

It’s a good whimper, but Alex still sits back on Michael’s thigh to undo his belt. Michael presses his chin to his chest to watch as Alex undoes his jeans. He’s not surprised Michael isn’t wearing underwear but the notion he’s been bare under his jeans this whole time makes him ache with anticipation. He wraps his hand around Michael who swears messily again reaches for Alex’s belt. Alex rocks forward, matching the motion with his hand and Michael shudders from his very core. He grabs Alex’s belt and shoves everything down to get to his member, his other hand kneading at the small of Alex’s back. Alex is so used to fucking with Michael only having one hand that when he feels all ten fingers he almost loses it right there. He doesn’t, but it’s not long before their movements become stuttered and the only thing they seem able to say are curses and each other’s names.

It takes him a moment to get his baring after he sees white with his face buried in Michael’s neck. His curls are tickling his ear. He pulls back to look at Michael who still has grease on his nose. Though Alex imagines they both do now. Both their pants are half off and he can feel how badly they need showers. It’s messy and wonderful in a way Alex wasn’t sure they ever could be. He braces his weight on his forearms and kisses Michael slower and softer, pulling back to take in the sight of him just living in the moment like he so rarely does. Like they so rarely do. Michael’s hand comes up between them and his fingertips touch the ballbearing. Alex kisses his fingers, and he can feel Michael’s shuddering breath on his face.

“I missed you,” Michael says and the vulnerability makes Alex open his eyes to look at him. Michael’s hand slips over his ear and to the back of his neck as he kisses him with all the gentleness he can.

“I missed you too,” he echoes as Michael pushes up against him.

The sweetness breaks around the moan Michael’s other hand forces from him.

Later he chops vegetables with the cutting board on the stool next to him. Michael still has his leg spread out, but his back is pressed against him. They’re hair is still wet from the shower but it’s not going to be the last one they take if the grease on Michael’s hands is any indication. Nor is it the last load of laundry, but Alex will sacrifice every Air Force shirt he owns if they wind up on Michael’s torso.

“I don’t get it,” Michael complains, “how is it not uncomfortable to have balls up your nose?”

“They aren’t that big,” Alex tells him, “isn’t it uncomfortable to have that massive belt buckle digging into your stomach if you bend over?”

“Leave my belt buckle out of this,” Michael says, twisting to look at him, “it did nothing to you.”

“It absolutely did things to me,” Alex shoots back, twisting to meet his gaze. Michael’s hand automatically comes to make sure he doesn’t topple. Michael turns back and gets the final pieces in, “Okay lets try my second favorite piece of metal on you,” He says, coming around. He pulls on the sleeve and slots his leg into the device. Easing forward, he rocks down to get the air out. The device responds perfectly and instead of any pressure points, it seals against him smoothly, “how’s it feel?”

“This is—“ Alex stops. He has a name for the feeling that hits him, but he doesn’t have the words. What comes out is a shuddering breath that has Michael scrambling to his feet, looking at him anxiously. Alex grips his shoulders and presses their foreheads together, “thank you,” he says. Michael’s relief is immediate but it pales in comparison to what he feels, “thank you, thank you—“ he can’t say anything else.

“That good?” Michael asks. Alex nods, “good because I reverse engineered some things that means the military might not take this back.”

“I’m never taking this leg off,” Alex swears. Michael chuckles but he’s pleased none the less. The hands that are steadying his hips drop just enough so that Michael’s thumbs are against his skin.

“What if we table the steaks,” Michael says, “and order pizza?”

The idea of cooking for Michael is a good one but it’s super hard to think about not having his hands on him while he’s cooking. Michael’s thumbs find his hipbones.

“Pizza sounds great,” he gets out.

“We can eat on the couch?”

Alex thinks about what they did on the couch before and nods.

“Good,” Michael says, turning so he’s pulling him forwards, “i noticed your leg’s waterproof.”

Alex swears.

“Okay, but there’s something I want you to do.”

“Anything,” Michael kisses his neck, “Everything.”

Alex plans on holding him to that.

“What did you say he did?” Colin asks as Michael lays out the tools he needs. Alex hands him a cup of coffee.

“He’s a mechanic,” Alex says, “he can help.”

Michael comes over. He looks nervous but determined, Alex can’t help the pride he feels as Michael sits down. Colin and Alex both have parts of their bodies and their souls rotting in the desert a world away. The body parts, at least, are probably still laying close to each other. Colin looks between them and then shakes his head, undoing his prosthetic. A lot more of his leg comes off and he rolls up his shorts to take off the sleeve.

“The thing keeps coming loose,” he explains, “and the knee sticks, it’s uncomfortable as hell,” he explains as Michael looks and then turns to the leg, “Can you do anything?”

Anything. Everything.

“Yeah,” Michael says after a moment’s consideration, “I can help.”

Colin looks so relieved Alex clasps his shoulder as Michael goes back over. Colin knows about Alex’s struggles to get the right fit for his leg. Colin looks at him gratefully and then his eyes narrow and he cranes his neck.

“What’s in your nose?”

#michael guerin #alex manes #michael x alex #roswell new mexico #roswell nm fanfic #malex #prompts #malex fic

201 notes · View notes

fromkenari · 5 years

Text

When you're thinkin' you're a joke and nobody's gonna listen

Michael plunked down on his parents’ modest-sized couch in Chicago as the whole world moved around him. His sister was decorating the dining room, the living room, and virtually the whole house because that evening was going to be his second birthday party. This time with his family. His mother was setting out food as she and his grandmother took turns yelling Greek which Michael rolled his eyes over because he could vaguely understand that they were arguing which plates to use for the cake. His dad was the one actually cooking the food, which smelled like heaven to Michael.

With a sigh, Michael tried to shut most of the noise out, but it wasn’t working so when he finished thumbing through his phone for Tyler Blackburn’s number, he got up and went to his childhood bedroom. Still complete with a double bed and the Ken Griffey Jr. poster on the wall, he got a little nostalgic and grabbed a baseball that had fallen from his nightstand. The phone was ringing before he could drop onto the bed and he was startled when it was answered almost immediately.

“Michael?” came Tyler’s careful tone and Michael had to laugh. Perched on his bed and tossing the baseball up in the air, he smiled.

“Hey, Tyler man, what’s up?”

“Nothing, really,” Tyler replied. “Catching up on Doctor Who with my dog.”

Michael gave a knowing nod despite the fact that Tyler couldn’t see him. “Thinking about your next project? Going for a Companion, hmm?” He laughed when Tyler gave a soft snort.

“No. I’m not always working, you know.”

“Uh huh, like you don’t have the next two years booked solid?” Michael accused him.

Tyler made a noncommittal sound. “Not two years...” he trailed out. Michael snickered in knowing. “How’s the hangover?” Tyler pushed in slyly and Michael caught the baseball and pushed the fist to his head.

“Oh man. You guys did not have to do that.” Referring to the birthday party he had a few days prior. “But I didn’t do too bad. I didn’t swear off drinking like I have after most birthdays.”

Tyler chuckled but it was more like a hum, a sweet sound that Michael enjoyed eliciting from the other man. At about the same time, Michael winced because he heard a crash on the other side of the house and decided this was more important because...

“I got your text,” Michael said in one breath and, “Sorry I didn’t see it until late. That’s why I’m calling now.”

“Yeah...” Tyler softly responded like it took strength to not add a hundred other words to it.

Michael’s brow furrowed and he kicked back on the bed and continued tossing up the baseball and catching it as a distraction.

Call me when you get this. Real important. Have a safe flight.

“So, what’s going on? Something to with Roswell? You just now learn that Nathan is following questionable accounts on Instagram? Don’t worry, I’ve gotten the messages from fans, too.”

There was a pause, too long for Michael to stand.

“Tyler man, what is it?” he said with some legitimate concern. He caught the baseball and held it above him, waiting as Tyler cleared his throat.

“I did an interview,” Tyler said, voice somewhat hollow but also heavy with a burden. “And I told them something that I haven’t told many people. I wanted you to know before it’s released because I feel like I have the responsibility to tell you -- as my scene partner, as my friend.”

Michael frowned deep and didn’t try to lead Tyler on. He wanted Tyler to tell him when he was ready. “Yeah?” Michael simply said as he sat up and crossed his legs. He was making a mess of the sheets. His grandmother would be hot.

“Michael, I’m bisexual.”

The baseball fell from Michael’s hand that was already reaching to grip his hair. Bouncing with thunks, the ball rolled away and Michael couldn’t form words.

“I’m not going to ask you to not tell anyone, but I would hope you wouldn’t. I want to come out in my own way and I think the Advocate is a good way.”

Michael’s still stunned and just listening as Tyler became more robotic with each sentence, which was likely because Michael wasn’t responding.

“I’ve known long enough to have boyfriends, but not public ones. Obviously, I’ve had girlfriends, too. But I wanted to you because--”

“Holy shit,” Michael finally breathed, still not caught up from Tyler coming out.

Tyler stopped talking before getting a little flustered. “Are you -- are you freaking out about this?”

Michael finally snapped into his wits and got off the bed to pace. “No. Tyler, no. That is not what I meant. I’m sorry. ‘Holy shit’ should not have been the first thing I say when you share something that personal with me, okay?”

“You don’t have to apologize--”

“Of course, I do. With all the joking around and shit that I do? I love you, man, and I never ever meant to make you uncomfortable.”

“Because you thought I was straight?”

“I mean, look, you are the coolest and hottest dude I have ever met. And we have had some intimate moments on set. I would be stupid to not have at least some sort of feelings toward you.”

“What are you saying?”

Michael huffed. “You’re a sex symbol, dude! You’re the guy that millions of girls fantasize about. That’s some serious pressure and image to uphold. And -- and I’m sorry if I made that pressure worse by being an asshole with the homoerotic stuff.”

Tyler took a moment to respond. “I accept your apology -- as long as this doesn’t change our dynamic on set.”

“Dude! Of course not. Though, I may have some questions since Guerin is bisexual and all.” A pause. “I’m kidding, but also not. This is -- wow. I am proud to be someone you felt comfortable with coming out to. Thank you.”

Tyler cleared his throat again, his voice came out feathery like he might be on the verge of crying. “The article comes out in April. Then, you can tell people. Then, I want everyone to know.”

“Of course! You hot, sexy, beautiful, artistic, and wonderful bisexual, you. I will tell anyone who asks me about you.”

With a chuckle, Tyler gave a gentle sniff that Michael could barely make out. “You’re a good guy, Michael. We’ll have to double date sometime.”

“Yeah, when you’re not filming,” Michael joked before he bent down to pick up the baseball he’d dropped. “So what’s up next anyway.”

“I’m going to the Dominican Republic at the end of April.”

“Dude, no way!”

“Yes. Yes way, actually. I think I can tell you what it’s about. It’s for the Discovery Channel.”

“Hot. Lay it on me, Blackburn.”

#vlamburn #michael vlamis #tyler blackburn #coming out fic #fan fic #*#out of curls

24 notes · View notes

takeabitetoremember · 6 years

Text

Stay With Me (Part 5)

Moira doesn’t ask questions when she sees the blood on the sheets, she simply does as she’s told, changing the bedding, while Michael flops down in front of the television. His sparkling blue eyes are glued to the screen, and fingers are wrapped tightly around the controller in his hand; he’s completely oblivious to his surroundings at this point. By now, Moira has become almost numb to Michael’s murderous ways. She’s simply assumed that now that’s grown a little older, he’s disposed of this one, himself. Since there’s no body in sight, she isn’t asking any questions. She feels guilty enough as it is, her hatred for Constance and vice versa kept her from having any type of real relationship with Michael. All Constance ever did was brag to Moira and rub it in her face, “Look at my beautiful boy, Moira! Look at my beautiful golden boy!” She would cover up everything he did, patting him on the head, cleaning up the blood, and then when she would tire of it, just to spite her, she’d force Moira clean up the remaining mess for hours on end. Instead of refusing, she simply did as she was told, and became and enabler, just like Constance. However, there’s one big difference between Constance and Moira; When Constance decided she was going to give up on Michael, Moira didn’t. Here she is, smoothing out his sheets, turning them down with loving care, as his fingers tap furiously at the game controller, sated for now by killing various people, creatures, whatever it was on the screen. Her vision certainly wasn’t what it used to be, but one thing was for certain, she was no old fool.

“Michael, do you want me to put the comforter back on?”

Her voice is so soft, it’s almost like a faint whisper. His eyes remain glued to the screen, more intensely than ever, a wide grin forms across his face as his fingers tap furiously, what she can only deduce is Michael’ just shot a man and took his head completely off, on the game that is. He’s chuckling with absolute delight, barely even hearing with Moira said, if at all, not even turning to acknowledge her.

“Uh, yeah, whatever, sure.”

Shaking her head, pulling the lightweight down comforter up onto the big bed, thinking how she’s simply wasting her time, but would rather waste her time, than have Michael melt down. Smoothing the comforter out, turning it down, gathering up the sheets, paying no mind to the shut bathroom door, already assuming Michael is alone, walking right into the bathroom, thinking she’ll gather his towels to do a full load of linens. Seeing the bloody washcloths on the floor along with a few towels, Moira shakes her head and walks over to pick gather them up. “I only wonder what he did to this one”, her soft voice so full of sorrow, not seeing Mallory in the bath, nor Mallory seeing her, until that moment.

Hearing Moira’s soft voice as she picks up the linens, Mallory sits up in the bathtub, immediately. Remembering what Michael said, she’s frozen with fear, not knowing if this is someone who is kind, or someone who will harm her. “MICHAEL!!!!!” she screams out in terror, covering her chest, her cheeks turning blood red, feeling ashamed of the older woman seeing her naked, vulnerable in the bath, and without Michael. Dropping the controller immediately, Michael gets up running into the bathroom, seeing Mallory sitting in the pink water, trembling, covering herself, glaring at Moira as he walks to the side of the bathtub, sitting down, caressing Mallory’s arm, touching her cheek gently. “What’s wrong, Mallory? Are you ok?” Turning to look at Moira, “Moira, I KNOW you didn’t harm my wife, did you?”

Mallory’s head leaned into Michael’s hand as she reached up to hold it, feeling comforted that this was indeed someone that Michael knows. This certainly must just be some type of misunderstanding.

“I’m so sorry, Michael. I was taking the sheets to wash, and I just thought I’d see if you had any towels. I didn’t know there would be anyone in the bathtub. I didn’t mean to scare her. So, Mallory is her name. Well, she is beautiful, Michael. I’m thankful you found someone that makes you happy. You deserve to be happy.”

“Thank you, ma’am, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scream. I just didn’t expect to see anyone other than Michael. He, he told me to be careful, not to leave the room without him, and... “ “Michael is right, until he’s taken you out, and they know you belong to him, you shouldn’t walk the halls alone. There’s no need to apologize to me, you’ll see me more than anyone else. I prepare the meals, as well. Having two of you, now is such a delight. Seeing Michael this happy gives me purpose”, gathering up the last of the towels, laying out a fresh towel on the edge of the bathtub. “Thank you, Moira. I’ll bring Mallory down later, I’m sorry I forgot to tell you Mallory was in here. I know you probably thought”, stopping looking over at the older woman, looking ashamed, his face still has the sweet boyish innocence and shame as he looks to her, but the body of a man, as he sits on the side of the tub, holding the young woman, he now refers to as his wife, comforting her. “You tend to your wife now, Michael, I expect she’s sore. If you need dinner in here, just let me know”, closing the door behind her, gathering the linens, trudging down the long hallway. “Let’s get you out of here, Mallory” holding up a large towel. Mallory shivers as her body makes contact with the cool air, thankful as Michael’s loving arms wrap her up in the big towel, smiling as he stands there holding her, cocooned, and safe.

“I’m so sorry, Mallory”, holding her tighter, rubbing her back, caressing her wet head, holding it against his chest, kissing the top of it. Crying softly, feeling ashamed of himself and wondering what he did to Mallory? Was she hurting? Did he hurt her badly? Was there really that much blood? Moira must’ve thought he killed someone, and he couldn’t bear the thoughts that his precious Mallory might’ve felt that pain. Anyone else, that would be fine, but not her. Never her. NEVER. HER. “Michael, it’s ok. I’m not upset. Moira seems like such a sweet woman. It was an honest mistake, she didn’t know I was in the bathtub. Honey, please don’t get upset at yourself”, completely bound by the towel, unable to wrap her arms around him, looking up into his eyes, seeing his tears, sensing it’s something more. “Michael”, what’s wrong? “I love you, Michael. It’s ok. Please, talk to me.” Mallory’s voice was so soft, something about it was comforting to him. It was unlike anything, or anyone else’s he’d ever had in his life. It was a blind trust. Maybe, it was because she was so close in age to him, or perhaps, it was simply teenage lust and hormones, but there was something about her that allowed him to let all his guard down, and find the love and comfort he’s so desperately wanted his entire life. Letting her go for a moment, unwrapping the towel so he can dry her beautiful body, seeing all of the marks he left on her. Every bite mark, bruise, kiss, and nip here and there that got a little too intense. He could see the porcelain flesh of her neck and breasts as he dried her. The fingerprint bruises on her hips and thighs where he held her. She only whimpered softly a few times. She never asked him to stop. She told him she loved him. She begged him for it harder.

“I know from the blood on the sheets, Moira thought I killed you, and the bruises I left on you Mallory, all over you- your neck, breasts, hips. Oh, Mallory.” Turning from her, running his hand through his wavy hair, taking a deep breath, “When I saw the blood, I had thoughts. I hate myself, Mallory. I am a monster, Mallory.”

Holding the towel against her petite body, tears welling in her eyes, walking over, despite the fear in the pit of her stomach, taking his hand, holding it, walking back into the bedroom sitting down on the bed not sure she’s ready to hear it, but knowing that it has to come out. “Michael, you aren’t a monster. The people who’ve called you a monster are the monsters. Those are the bad people. Those are the people that have hurt us our whole life. We safe from them now. It’s just us. Tell me, it’s ok. You can tell me about those thoughts. I love you, Michael. I won’t leave you. Remember, for time, and all eternity.” Tossing his t-shirt on to the floor as he takes a deep breath, Mallory climbs onto lap. Michael’ wraps his arms around her tightly, holding her close, as her head lays against his shoulder, getting comfortable straddling his lap, arms wrapped around him, his warmth keeping her warm, and comforted, despite the bundle of nerves rolling around in the pit of her stomach. “Mallory, I want you to know, I would NEVER, EVER harm you, EVER”, caressing her back, reassuringly, “Which is why I was so upset at myself for having the thoughts I did. After we had sex for the first time, and you were afraid because of the blood, when we were getting ready to go get into the bath, well you were, you know. We were sitting on the edge of the bed, looking back at the blood on the bed, then, you were upset about how much blood was on you. I told you not to worry, to take a bath, not to worry about the towels, all that.” Mallory can feel his heart beating faster, how nervous he is, his grip on her is getting tighter, more possessive, as if he fears losing her now more than anything in this entire world.

“When I saw the that bright red blood on your thighs, and on my body, I thought it was the hottest fucking thing I’d ever seen. Mallory, I would NEVER harm you, I would never make you bleed, my angel. If I didn’t have to make you bleed then, I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t ever take your blood. It was just, I can’t explain it. I wanted to take it, and smear it all over your breasts, and grope them while I fucked you until you screamed. That’s the dark side of me, Mallory. It’s still there.”

“Shhhhhhhh, Michael”, running her fingers through his wavy golden hair, “It’s going to be ok, yes, it’s still there, but you’re fighting it, and I’m with you. I’m with you”, taking his face in her hands, looking in his eyes, we’re gonna be ok, Michael. I promise. I’m sorry that it scared you, and that you were afraid it might make me leave or something. Michael, I will never leave you. I promise you. I love you. It will always be us, forever, and that makes me so happy. It’s the first time in a long time that I’ve been able to really say that. It’s the first time, in a long time that I’ve had a home I felt safe in, and it’s all because of you, Michael. I want to go through and start unpacking some of my things, do you want to finish up your game, or take a nap? Michael, know that from now on, it really is me and you. I’m not leaving you. I gave myself to you. I’m your wife. I love you, and right now, I’m going to find some clothes, or at the very least, a clean gown to put on”, giving him a soft kiss before climbing off of his lap, and their bed, walking towards the dresser.

Michael sat silent, just watching her beautiful petite form, the way the late afternoon sun caught the highlights in her hair just right. He was memorizing every curve, every little nuance about the way she moved, the way her gown slid over her body, flowing down to her mid-calf, white, in the sun, almost sheer, angelic. Just like her. For the first time in his life, Michael Langdon prayed this would never end.

#Millory #Michael Langdon #Mallory #American Horror Story #American Horror Story Apocalypse #Stay With Me

17 notes · View notes

auskultu · 7 years

Text

The Black Elvis?

Michael Lydon, The New York Times, 25 February 1968

SAN FRANCISCO —“Will he burn it tonight?” asked a neat blonde of her boyfriend, squashed in beside her on the packed floor of the Fillmore auditorium. "He did at Monterey,” the boy friend said, recalling the Pop Festival at which the guitarist, in a moment of elation, actually put a match to his guitar. The blonde and her boy friend went on watching the stage, crammed with huge silver-fronted Fender amps, a double drum set, and whispering stage hands. Mitch Mitchell, the drummer, came on first, sat down, smiled, and adjusted his cymbals. Then came bassist Noel Redding, gold glasses glinting on his fair, delicate face, and plugged into his amp.

“There he is,” said the blonde, and yes, said the applause, there he was, Jimi Hendrix, a cigarette slouched in his mouth, dressed in tight black pants draped with a silver belt, and a pale rainbow shirt half hidden by a black leather vest.

“Dig this, baby,” he mumbled into the mike. His left hand swung high over his frizz-bouffant hair making a shadow on the exploding sun light-show, then down onto his guitar and the Jimi Hendrix Experience roared into “Red House.” It was the first night of the group's second American tour. During the first tour, last summer, they were almost unknown. But this time two LP’s and eight months of legend preceded them.

The crowds in San Francisco—their three nights here were the biggest in the Fillmore’s history—were drooling for Hendrix in the flesh. They got it: this time he didn't burn his guitar ("I was feeling mild”) but, with the careless, slovenly and blatantly erotic arrogance that is his trademark, he gave them what they wanted.

He played all the favorites, “Purple Haze,” “Foxy Lady,” “Let Me Stand Next to Your Fire” and "The Wind Cries Mary.” He played flicking his gleaming white Gibson between his legs and propelling it out of his groin with a nimble grind of his hips. Bending his head over the strings, he plucked them with his teeth as if eating them, occasionally pulling away to take deep breaths. Falling back and lying almost prone, he pumped the guitar neck as it stood high on his belly.

He made sound by swinging the guitar before him and just tapping the body. He played with no hands at all, letting his wah-wah pedal bend and break the noise into madly distorted melodic lines. And all at top volume, the bass and drums building a wall of black noise heard as much by pressure on the eyeballs as with the ears.

• • •

The black Elvis? He is that in England. In America James Brown is, but only for Negroes; could Hendrix become that for American whites? The title, rich in potential imagery, is a mantle waiting to be bestowed. Within his wildness, Hendrix plays on the audience’s reaction to his sexual violence with an ironic and even gentle humor. The D.A.R. sensed what he is up to: they managed to block one appearance with the Monkees last summer, because he was “too erotic.” But if Jimi knows about his erotic appeal, he won’t admit it.

"Man, it's the music, that’s what comes first,” he said, taking a quick jerk of Johnny Walker Black in his motel room. “People who put down our performance, they’re people who can’t use their eyes and ears at the same time. They got a button on their shoulder blades that keeps only one working at a time. Look, man, we might play sometimes just standing there; sometimes we do the whole diabolical bit when we’re in the studio and there ain’t nobody to watch. It’s how we feel. How we feel and getting the music out, that’s all. As soon as people understand that, the better.”

• • •

The Jimi Hendrix Experience, now doing a two-month tour (they will be at Hunter College on Saturday and at Stony Brook, L. I., on March 9), was formed in October, 1966, just weeks after Hendrix came to London from Greenwich Village encouraged by former Animal Chas Chandler. Mitchell, 21, came from Georgie Fame’s band, a top English rhythm and blues group, and 22-year-old Redding switched to bass from guitar, which he had played with several small-time bands. Their first job, after only a few weeks of rehearsal, was at the Paris Olympia on a bill with Johnny Hallyday.

Their first record, “Hey Joe,” got to number 4 on the English charts; a tour of England and steady dates in the in London clubs, plus a follow-up hit with “Purple Haze,” made them the hottest name around. Men’s hairdressers started featuring the “Experience style.” Paul McCartney got them invited to the Monterey Pop Festival and they were a smash hit.

But Jimi Hendrix, born James Marshall Hendrix 22 years ago in Seattle, Wash., goes a lot further back. Now hip rock’s enfant terrible, he quit high school for the paratroopers at 16 (“Anybody could be in the Army, T had to do it special, but man, was I bored”). Musically he came up the black route, learning guitar to Muddy Waters records on his back porch, playing in Negro clubs in Nashville, begging his way onto Harlem bandstands, and touring for two years, lost in the bands of rhythm and blues headliners: the Isley Brothers, Joey Dee, Little Richard, and King Curtis. He even played the Fillmore once, but that was backing Ike and Tina Turner and long before the Haight-Ashbury scene.

• • •

“I always wanted more than that,” he said, “I had these dreams that something was gonna happen, seeing the numbers 1966 in my sleep, so I was just passing time till then. I wanted my own scene, making my music, not playing the same riffs.

“Like once with Little Richard, me and another guy got fancy shirts ’cause we were tired of wearing the uniform. Richard called a meeting. ‘I am Little Richard, I am Little Richard,’ he said.‘the King, the King of Rock and Rhythm. I am the only one allowed to be pretty. Take off those shirts.’ Man, it was all like that. Bad pay, lousy living, and getting burned.”

Early in 1966 he finally got to Greenwich Village, where he played at the Cafe Wha as Jimmy James with his own hastily formed group, the Blue Flame. It was his break and the bridge to today’s Hendrix. He started to write songs—he has written hundreds—and play what he calls “my rock-blues-funky-freak sound.”

• • •

“Dylan really turned me on—not the words or his guitar, but as a way to get myself together. A cat like that can do it to you. Race, that was okay. In the Village people were more friendly than in Harlem where it’s all cold and mean. Your own people hurt you more. Anyway, I had always wanted a more open and integrated sound. Top-40 stuff is all out of gospel, so they try to get everybody up and clapping, shouting, ‘yeah, yeah.’ We don’t want to get everybody up. They should just sit there and dig it. And they must dig it, or we wouldn’t be here.”

A John Wayne movie played silently on the television in the stale and disordered room, and Hendrix started alternating slugs of scotch and Courvoisier. He stopped and turned to the window, looking out over San Francisco. “This lookslike Brussels, all built on hills. Beautiful. But no city I’ve ever seen is as pretty as Seattle, all that water and mountains. I couldn’t live there, but it was beautiful.”

Besides his music, Hendrix doesn’t do much. He wants to retire young and buy a lot of motels and real estate with his money. Sometimes he thinks of producing records or going to the Juilliard School of Music to learn theory and composition. In London he lives with his manager, but plans to buy a house in a mews; in his spare time he reads Isaac Asimov’s science fiction. His musical favorites, as he listed them, are Charlie Mingus, Roland Kirk, Bach, Muddy Waters, Bukka White, Albert Collins, Albert King, and Elmore James.

• • •

“Where do you stop? There are, oh man, so many more, all good. Sound, and being good, that’s important. Like we’re trying to find out what we really dig. We got plans for a play-type scene with people moving on stage, but everything pertaining to the song and every song a story.

“We’ll keep moving. It gets tiring doing the same tiling, coming out and saying, ‘Now we’ll play this song,’ and ‘Now we’ll play that one.’ People take us strange ways, but I don’t care how they take us. Man, we’ll be moving. ’Cause man, in this life you gotta do what you want, you gotta let your mind and fancy flow, flow, flow free.”

#the jimi hendrix experience #jimi hendrix #psychedelic rock #blues #1968 #1960s #sixties #60s

30 notes · View notes

xx-multi-fandom-fics · 7 years

Text

Lover

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Prompt: Lover by Michael Stanley Band

Requested by Anonymous

“Could i request a supernatural songfic oneshot centered around michael stanley band Lover? While on a hunt in Ohio, Sam & Dean find Y/N a young hunter down on her luck. She workin the same case as bros but she reluctant to step foot in her hometown as she’s afraid to face those she left behind. They decide to help her & along the way they meet people who knew her & piece together her tragic story. After rapping up case they help her work up the courage to reconnect with those she left behind.”

Warnings: Mentions of an abusive relationship

Word Count: 3.1 K

A.N.: I ended up doing this slightly different but the request mostly summarizes it. Lyrics are bolded. Also, sorry this ended up being so long.

Dean drove down the road with the windshield wipers on high. Even then, the windshield was covered with snowflakes.

“The turnpike’s slick. The snow’s as thick as thieves. I don’t know if we should keep driving,” Dean commented.

“We have to push forward. The hunter who’s working this case needs our help,” Sam reminded Dean.

“Who even is this hunter, Sammy? We’ve never met her, so why are we doing so much for her?”

“Garth asked us to help her, and we trust Garth.”

Dean continued driving for hours listening to the rock music being played. The further north they headed, the worse the snow and the roads were.

“Maybe we should just get a motel room for the night and head to Ohio in the morning. It feels to me like I’ve been driving forever, and the salt isn’t working on these roads. My baby is a warrior, but even she has a limit as to what she can do.”

“Try driving as far as you can. If you get too tired, I can drive. Garth sounded pretty worried about her when he called us.”

“You are not driving my baby,” Dean said firmly. “Not in this weather.”

Baby began swerving as Dean made a turn onto a highway. As other cars approached, Dean was able to get back onto his side of the road. Sam released his tight grip on the side of the car and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank God for the man who put the white lines on the highway” was all Sam said.

Dean continued driving for a few hours until he saw a woman on the side of the road. It appeared her car had broken down in the middle of the snowstorm. Dean pulled over to help her. Both of the Winchesters got out of the car and approached the young woman.

“You must have pretty bad luck having your car break down on a night like this,” Dean said as he held out his hand for her to shake.

“Do you need any help? We know a lot about cars. I mean he’s fixed the impala from the bottom up on more than one occasion.” Sam offered.

“That would be amazing. Thank you!” the woman said. “Let me just pop open the trunk to get some tools.”

The woman walked over to the driver’s seat and pushed a button that opened the trunk. She heard the men open the trunk as she got out of her car. With wide eyes she rushed to them. They were gaping down at the many different forms of weapons she had. There were a variety of guns, knives, spray paint, duct tape, jugs of a clear liquid, and other miscellaneous things. The Winchesters looked at each other and then the woman. They figured she was either a serial killer with some weird fantasies or a hunter. They then realized the torn jeans she wore along with the plaid shirt and boots. Also her hair was tied back in a high ponytail. She looked like a hunter. Something clicked in the Winchesters’ brains.

“You’re Y/N Y/L/N, aren't you?” Dean asked.

“Who- How did you-” you asked. Then you narrowed your eyes. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spirit-”

“We’re not demons,” Sam cut in. “We’re the Winchesters. I’m Sam and that’s Dean. Garth sent us to help you on a case in Ohio.”

You had heard of the Winchesters. After all Garth did speak very highly of them. But you never expected them to look this good. Usually hunters were not concerned with their appearance. These two were definitely the hottest hunters you’d ever met. Especially Dean.

“Stick out your arms,” you said still not trusting them. They obliged, but Dean rolled his eyes. You turned to him. “If you’re really the Winchesters, then this shouldn’t be that big of a deal.”

“My arm is out isn’t it?” Dean asked sarcastically.

You got a silver blade out of your trunk without taking your eyes off of the two men. You tested each of their arms and when they did not react, you sighed an air of relief.

“Satisfied?” Dean asked.

“Yep,” you said mocking cheer with an annoying smirk. “So can you really help fix my car?”

“Is there anyway we can do it in the morning? We can get a motel room tonight and then come back tomorrow,” Dean tried to compromise.

You sighed unhappily. You really didn’t want to part with your car. After all she had been with you through everything. She was even with you through the incident that happened in the town that you were now returning to for the first time in five years. You had sworn to yourself that you’d never come back, but after you saw an article about kids being killed under supernatural circumstances, you knew you had to come back and kill the monster.”

“Okay,” you said tiredly. You went towards the backseat when Dean stopped you.

“You can sit in the front if you’d prefer,” he offered. Sam looked at him with questioning eyes. “I just figured you’ve had a hard night being stuck out here on the side of the highway. And you’re probably also really cold.”

You then noticed how cold you actually were. Before you had been too distracted by trying to fix your car. You nodded and sat in the passenger seat. “Thank you,” you muttered after Dean got into the car.

“Here,” he said offering you his heavy jacket.

“It’s okay. I don’t need it.”

You owed these two enough. First, they agree to help you on this case. Then, they save you from a night in the cold, and later, they were going to fix your car.

“Yes you do. I felt your hands when you were testing us with the silver. They were ice cold. Here,” Dean said once again handing you the jacket. This time you accepted and put it on. It smelled amazing. Is this what he smells like? You took a deep breath in trying to imprint the smell into your memory. Sam gave you a weird glance, and you lowered the jacket from your face. You began blushing and thanked God that it was too dark to see your face.

“Sorry. The cold was so intense that it was hard to breathe outside,” you lied trying to cover up the embarrassing incident.

You arrived at the motel that you remembered from your teenage years thirty minutes later. Despite the heat being on high, you were still freezing both internally and externally. A pit of anxiety grew in your stomach as you walked through the door of the motel and saw the familiar face.

“Hi Y/N! It’s been such a long time! What are you doing here?” your old boss asked you. She had always been nice to you. She knew that your father was a hunter and always let you stay in a room whenever your father left on a hunt. She was more like a parent than your father had ever been. She would check in on you in between every shift and offered to buy you a meal, because she knew your father wasn't the best at remembering that he had a daughter he had to take care of.

“I just came here for work,” you said and began shivering once more. Dean noticed and put his arm around you, trying to warm up. At first, you tensed up not used to touch or warmth. Especially from someone who you thought was attractive. You soon relaxed into his touch and wrapped your arm around him trying to get him to warm you up as much as possible. Sam noticed this but didn’t say anything.

“Well welcome back!” she said cheerily. “Two rooms I’m guessing?”

You nodded.

“One queen bed and one full size?”

You gave her a questioning and realized the position you were in with Dean. You quickly let go and shook your head.

“No. Um. We aren’t together. Can one room have two full beds and one room with a queen sized bed?”

You figured that Sam and Dean could share a room and then you could have the room with a queen size bed to yourself.

She gave you the keys, and you headed towards your room.

“Do you mind if we come over for a bit and talk about the case?” Dean asked.

“Sure,” you smiled.

You walked down and sat on your bed. There was an office desk with a chair as well as a couch with a tv across from it. Sam sat in the office chair and Dean sat on the couch.

“Have you found out anything about the monster?” you asked. “Has Garth gotten in touch with you?”

“Since your call came through, there ain't nothing new,” Dean said matter of factly.

“We think we figured out what the monster is. We think it’s the Loveland Frogman.”

You almost laughed.

“That’s just a legend.”

“Don’t people say the same thing about the monsters we hunt everyday?” Sam asked with a straight face.

“True. But what makes you think it’s the frogman?” you asked a little more seriously.

“All of the victims were last seen by the Little Miami River. Their bodies were also found a few miles away from where they were last seen. Their bodies were all face down in the water of the Little Miami.”

“Fine. Let’s look into it,” you said figuring that anything was possible.

“Now?” Dean asked.

“What? Is it past your bedtime?” you asked jokingly.

“Actually, he’s afraid of the dark,” Sam joked. He knew Dean liked you and wanted to embarrass him as much as possible. You chuckled and Dean rolled his eyes obviously displeased.

“Well the glow from the bars and one thousand stars light the cold Ohio night, so he doesn’t have to be afraid,” you joked back and walked over to Dean to rub his arm mockingly. “Besides I know someone who used to go to a local bar every night that’s connected to one of the victims.”

Dean and Sam both shared questioning looks.

“First you know the motel manager and now the local bar bum?” Dean asked.

“Well, yeah. This is my hometown after all. But I haven’t been here in a while so some things may have changed a little.”

Dean opened his mouth to ask another question, but you didn’t feel like divulging your entire past.

“Let’s go. I’ll drive,” you offered.

Sam began to remark how Dean would never let that happen. But then he saw Dean toss you the keys. Sam’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened.

“Just be careful. If you scratch her, I’m not fixing your car.”

You didn’t know whether or not he was joking. You gave Sam a questioning look who was still extremely shocked at the previous events.

“He’s serious.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not a sixteen year old. I can drive.”

“Stick?” Dean asked.

“Of course,” you replied.

You drove to the bar and sat next to the man.

“Y/N! How are you?” the man said. “I’m Paul,” he lazily stuck out his hand to the Winchesters. You could smell the alcohol on his breath and gave Dean a look of warning in your eyes.

“I’m good. I’ll be right back. Go ahead and talk to him without me,” you said to the Winchesters as you got up to go to the restroom.

It was all too much. You couldn't handle it anymore. You couldn't handle returning here and seeing the familiar faces.

The Winchesters sat down next to Paul and asked him about the victim he knew.

“I miss her so much,” Paul said tearing up. “Daisy was my baby girl. I went down to the river with a search team, and I saw her face down in the murky water. She still had on her dress that she went missing in. God, I miss her so much.”

“I’m so sorry Paul,” Sam said.

Dean realized he should probably change the subject for a minute to allow the man to recover. He was curious about you and decided to find out more.

“So how do you know Y/N?”

“She grew up here. Her dad was always working. God knows what he was doing that made him leave so much. He was an awful father. Never there for her. Heather, who works at the motel, felt sorry for her and gave her a job at the motel. She could live in a room there as long as she worked on the weekends. It costed Heather, but she didn’t care. This entire town pitched in at some point to help her in one way or another while her father was gone.”

Dean had flashbacks to his childhood and trying to take care of Sammy while John was gone.

“How’d you help her?”

“Once she tried to steal a shirt from my wife’s store. I was working that day and caught her. When I saw the condition of her current clothes, I took her to Heather and informed her of the incident. I also told Y/N that she can come to the store once a month and get whatever clothes she needed.”

Just as Dean polished off another glass of beer, you stormed out of the restroom and headed for the doors. Dean got up and asked Sam if he could interview Paul by himself. Sam nodded and Dean ran out to the parking lot. He saw you sprinting across the lot to get to Baby. She was locked, and you stood in the cold with tears streaming down in your face. Dean approached you and saw the state you were in. He unlocked Baby and you jumped in. He sat in the driver's seat and looked over at you.

“You can take the case. I’m done. I'm going back to the motel and leaving for the airport in the morning.”

“What you want to go and do that for?” Dean asked feeling sorry for you.

“It’s all too much. This town! Seeing these people! I never wanted to come back here. And I actually managed that for five years.”

You began sobbing. Dean scooted across the seat and put his arm over your shoulder.

“You can tell me what happened.”

“No. I can’t. Just know that I have my reasons. I just can’t do this.”

“You say you got your reasons, but I need more,” Dean pushed pulling you closer to him.

You leaned into him as you recounted your childhood.

“I just don’t know where to begin. Everything is just reminding me of my past. My father was a hunter. He had been his entire life and accidentally got my mom pregnant on a one night stand. She didn’t want me so he took me. I was never his first priority. He always cared more about hunting and getting that high from killing a monster. Naturally, he shoved me into the life. But sometimes he left me behind without even a goodbye note saying where he went. I had to fend for myself. Everyone in this town seemed to care about me more than my own father. I can’t handle being reminded of everything that happened to me. The only thing that kept me going was knowing that one day I could get out of this town. And once I turned eighteen that’s exactly what I did. I escaped and never came back until now.”

You began crying once more. Dean pulled you into him and began gently stroking your hair.

“It’s going to be okay. Shhhhhhh. You don’t have to do this if you don't want to. Sam and I will take over for you.”

You buried your head into his shirt still wearing his jacket.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked after a period of silence filled by your crying.

“Sure.”

“Why did you become a hunter?”

You lifted your head up and looked Dean in the eyes.

“I wanted to make my dad proud. As much as I hated him, I always wanted to make him proud. As a child, I’d always go on hunts with him but one way or another I would do something wrong and he would lose it. I just wanted to connect with him. I did everything he said but somehow I always did something wrong. I was never good enough. I just want to be good enough no matter how much I hate him.”

You leaned your head on Dean’s shoulder and began rubbing circles into his hand to soothe you.

“Maybe you should leave the life while you can,” Dean whispered into your ear. You raised your head and looked at him questioningly.

“What?”

“You don’t need to make him proud. Go live your own life. Be happy.”

“Maybe you’re right. I did everything that he told me to and now I’m all alone and crying.”

“You’re not alone. You have me.”

Dean didn’t notice he said that until he felt your lips crashing against his. He deepened the kiss as your mouths moved in sync against each other. You tasted the salt from your tears earlier and regrettingly pulled away for air.

“See, that’s why I can’t leave hunting. Cause now I have you. I have to keep the one thing I have that makes me genuinely happy.”

“It’s too late for me to leave the life Y/N. It’s not too late for you. Save yourself while you can.”

“I’m saving myself by staying with you. And right now I really need some saving.”

“Well if you're sure, then hunt with us. You and Sam get along. Obviously we do too.”

You chuckled and leaned over once more. Dean met his lips with yours. This kiss was different. The last one had been needy but also gentle. This one was purely passion. Suddenly, you heard a knock on the window. You jumped back and saw Sam at the window with an awkward smile. He got in the backseat.

“So I guess everything worked out?”

You blushed and Dean turned to face Sam.

“Sammy, everything is completely fine. Especially now that Y/N is going to join us on our hunts.”

The way that Dean said it caused Sam to realize that there was no talking about it. Not that Sam was opposed at all.

“Are we going to finish this hunt?” Sam asked. “Garth can always get another hunter to do it instead.”

“No. I need to do this. For me,” you replied determinedly. You knew that you needed to do this. You knew you could do it. Especially with the Winchesters by your side. Especially with Dean Winchester by your side.

Thank you for reading! Requests are open. :)

#supernatural #supernatural reader insert #supernatural x reader #supernatural oneshot #supernatural one shot #spn #spn x reader #spn reader insert #spn oneshot #spn one shot #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester reader insert #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester oneshot #sam winchester #garth

27 notes · View notes

beardedgoateellama · 4 years

Text

Mod Gta San Andreas For Mac

San Andreas is arguably the best Grand Theft Auto game ever made.

Mod Gta San Andreas Mac

Gta San Andreas Play

Gta San Andreas Mod Macchine

Gta San Andreas Free Install

Gta San Andreas Mac Cheats

Mod Gta San Andreas For Mac Free

Macetes Mod Gta San Andreas

GTA San Andreas Mac 11 'Converted' Mod was downloaded 5233 times and it has 10.00 of 10 points so far. Download it now for GTA San Andreas!

But with the game being so many years old, it’s only natural for players to look for mods in order to spice up their experience in this GTA – especially with the countless new features that we had on GTA IV and GTA V.

Today I come to you with the best mods that you can install to make GTA San Andreas feel like a completely different game.

Download GTA San Andreas Mods: modifications, new weapons, missions, textures, scripts, and other cool new mods for GTA San Andreas.

The GTA SA Mods category contains a wide variety of mods for GTA San Andreas: from script mods and new buildings to new sounds and many other types of modifications. There are almost no limits and this way you can completely change the environment in Los Santos. Besides funny modifications there are also some that will turn you into superheroes.

Reinvigorate your San Andreas experience with these fantastic mods and see how much the game changes – I’m sure you’ll love the new gameplay afterward!

Also if this is the first time that you’re installing mods, let me remind you that it’s better to make a backup save of your game files before installing them.

Be sure to make backup saves every time you install new mods as well, as some of them might not be entirely compatible with one another and it could corrupt your files.

Furthermore you’ll need to install CLEO if you want most of the mods on this list to work. I’ve put it at the number one spot on my list so check it out!

30. Tuning Mod

The Tuning Mod is a fantastic modification for all vehicle enthusiasts out there.

It allows you to tune your cars like no other mod in the community, rivaling and even surpassing the tuning system of GTA V.

Modify the way tuning works in the game and give yourself a new car once you’ve installed this mod.

29. Skin Selector

I’m putting this mod here instead of any skin mod because you’ll need it to change the way CJ looks.

It basically lets you open up a menu that will allow you to browse through all of the skin mods that you’ve installed, so you can change the way CJ looks in-game.

28. HD Weapons

This amazing mod pack changes the way every single weapon in San Andreas looks.

It replaces all of the basic models that come with the vanilla game and turns them into the same weapons, but with an HD look to them all.

The UZI model looks particularly good, although all additions to the game are very well made.

It does seem like making this mod took a lot of time, but the effort of the creator was worth it.

The results speak on their own, and I’m sure you’ll love these new guns as much as I did. It makes everything feel new in an otherwise old game.

27. Teleport Mod

I find it hilarious how this mod uses the Portal logo as its own, given that it literally works nothing like Portal.

It’s still a really useful mod, though, as it basically adds quick travelling to the game.

Open up your map, place a marker, and once you unpause the game CJ will directly teleport to the spot that you marked.

CJ initially screams as if he was falling, but don’t worry – it’s just the map loading. You won’t take any fall damage!

26. New Effects V1

Are you tired of looking at the same and really old effects of San Andreas? I was too!

This mod changes the way water, light, fire, and interactions with other natural objects work in the game, to make everything look better and modernize San Andreas a tad more.

You will notice how many of the mods on my list are related to the graphics of the game, and that’s to be expected.

San Andreas is super old and many people don’t play it mainly because of its outdated graphics.

Some modders have come to create some fantastic graphical changes to the game, and I want to share them with you. I know you’ll love them as much as I did.

25. Collection of Graphic Mods

As its name suggests, the Collection of Graphic mods makes enhancements to the way the game looks by changing up a bunch of textures, shadowing, and lighting to make it look better and a bit more modern.

It’s a cool little overhaul that will improve the way your San Andreas game looks without breaking the natural aesthetics that made it such a popular title back in the early 2000s.

24. Wheels Pack

San Andreas is a pretty old game, so you probably already tried all of the wheels that the game has in the tuning stores for you.

I was tired of looking at the same tires too, so this mod came to be pretty handy for me.

It basically adds a bunch of additional tires that you can put in your cars once you visit any of the tuning shops across the dangerous city of SA.

23. Ghost Rider Mod

Mod Gta San Andreas Mac

Are you tired of associating an amazing character like Ghost Rider with Nicolas Cage?

Trust me, me too.

Something had to be done about it, and this is the mod to completely wash your Caged Ghost Rider image by turning CJ into the popular Marvel anti-hero.

Ride the streets of San Andreas and wreak havoc among them with the outfit and powers of the mighty Ghost Rider.

You will be able to see the flames on the skull as well as in the tires of your mighty ride. It looks awesome apart from being a cool gameplay change, so give it a shot and prepare to enjoy some of the most hilarious cutscenes in GTA.

22. The Best Sound Pack for GTA San Andreas

This mod is a complete overhaul to the sounds of San Andreas.

It adds so many sounds that you won’t even believe that it’s the same game if you cover your eyes while playing it (no idea why would you do that, but hey, to each their own).

This mod changes the sounds of explosions, cop cars, car breaks, opening doors, and much more.

If you’re tired of listening to the same sounds for years, this mod will provide you with a fantastic relief that will guarantee you to stay hooked to San Andreas for a little bit more.

21. Holes from Bullets

I have always hated how bullets seem to bounce off cars after damaging them in the old GTA games.

Yes, I even hated that back in the days when this game was the hottest title in the market – I don’t know why, but hey, there’s a reason why this seemingly pointless addition has made its way to a spot on my list.

It simply adds bullet holes to your shots, so whenever you hit a car, for example, you’ll see the spot where the bullet landed. It’s pretty cool!

20. V Graphics

V Graphics, as its name suggests, was made with the intention of giving you the graphical feel of GTA V in the world of San Andreas.

It’s a pretty complex graphical overhaul of the game, and you’ll need a decent computer to run it, but it’s super worth it if you can do it.

Combine this baby with a texture mod and you won’t notice a difference in visuals between San Andreas and GTA V.

Maybe even download a mod to turn CJ into Franklin or Michael and change the way the San Andreas story unfolds by looking at it from a different perspective.

19. GTA United

GTA United replaces the entire city of San Andreas with none other than Liberty City and Vice City, in a complete overhaul of the game map.

It adds new side missions to the game as well as Easter Eggs that could be found in the two predecessors of the famous San Andreas game.

This isn’t a canon mod by any means, but it will help you reminisce with two of the most emblematic maps that have graced our old TV screens and computers.

As far as San Andreas map mods go this one takes the cake.

18. Gravity Gun

Man, this is one of the most overpowered gun mods that I’ve seen made for the Grand Theft Auto series in general.

You can use the gravity gun to bring people towards you and throw them back to where you’re aiming at unfathomably rapid speed.

If you love canon mods, then you’re going to despise this one. Looking for some fun, though?

Go through the story of San Andreas using this baby. You won’t regret it – trust me.

17. Insanity Vegetation

This beautiful mod enhances every plant texture in the game to make vegetation look as great as in some modern games.

But I do warn you – be sure to download other graphical enhancement mods if you’re going to install Insanity Vegetation.

If you don’t it’s just going to look super weird watching a bunch of HD plants in an otherwise SD environment.

16. Weapon Menu Mod

The Weapon Menu Mod simply brings up a menu where you can choose whichever weapon you want in the game and instantly spawn it for CJ.

Gta San Andreas Play

It’s not cheating if you’re using a mod, am I right?

Regardless of how you want to use this mod, it’s a very practical tool that will help you get your hands in the game’s finest as well as least desired guns. Use it wisely!

15. Ultimate Graphics Mod

If your computer isn’t capable of handling high-quality graphics, this is the best mod that you can download when tired of the traditional San Andreas look.

It enhances the way texture load in the game, and even though it does improve everything substantially, it’s still suited to be used in low-end computers.

I believe this is possible mainly because shadows tend to be the one thing that computers struggle to handle (like Minecraft shaders, for example).

This mod adds a ton of graphical enhancements, but keeps shadows to a very low level of quality. It makes everything look great, but it doesn’t compromise the memory usage of your PC. Just what I need.

14. Textures for GTA SA

This sweet mod enhances the way the graphics of roads and streets look in the game.

It basically adds new textures to every single street in San Andreas to make the whole gaming look smoother, something that couldn’t be added back in the days of the release of the game because computers and consoles couldn’t handle higher resolutions in the game files.

Times have changed, though. And this is just one of the many mods that completely enhances the game graphically.

Combine it with others to make San Andreas some justice and modernize the way the game feels, at least in a visual sense!

13. Iron Man Mod

So, apparently, it wasn’t Tony Stark who created the Iron Man suit, and it somehow made its way to the streets of San Andreas.

How dangerous could be a gangster dressed up in the most powerful body armor ever created by mankind?

It’s up to you to write the fate of the people of San Andreas as well as the fate of your own foes, as you’ll be able to harness your favorite Iron Man powers and use them in San Andreas thanks to this ridiculously well-made mod!

12. Dragon Ball Mod

Why play with CJ in a world where you can simply download this mod and become Goku, or even Vegeta, the Prince of all Saiyans?

Press a couple of buttons after installing this fantastic mod and use your favorite Dragon Ball characters to wreak havoc through in San Andreas and bring misfortune to the citizens of this seemingly-cursed city.

Fly around, use ki blast to attack, and take advantage of the super-strength of these Dragon Ball characters to give your GTA San Andreas save a twist like no other mod can give you (except maybe the Iron Man or Superman mods, but you get my point).

11. Skateboard Mod

Oh man, this one is really well done.

The Skateboard mod will allow you to pick up a skateboard and roll around the streets of San Andreas like Tony Hawk would do in an alternate reality where he’s actually a drug dealer.

You would think that making such a complex mod work well wouldn’t be too easy, but the movement of CJ with this mod is so smooth that it makes you think that it’s a vanilla feature.

Gta San Andreas Mod Macchine

10. Car Spawner

Ugh, don’t you guys hate it when you want to spawn a car but you need to input some annoying code to activate it?

I hate it too, and that’s why this mod has come in as handy as they get.

It basically adds a whole new menu to the game, which allows you to instantly select a car and spawn it by just hitting one button. Pretty simple, right?

It’s great if you’re looking to spawn yourself some sweet rides and just enjoy the game for a bit!

9. Street Love

Alright, let’s get this one out of the way, as it definitely needs to have a spot on this list.

Let’s cut the explanation straight to the point as well: Street Love is a lovey-dovey making mod for GTA San Andreas.

Yes, you’ll be able to use CJ (or with your friendly neighbor Spiderman, if you have the mod installed) and screw around with digital chicks.

8. Superman Mod

CJ does know how to take bullets like Superman in the original game, as he could’ve gotten shot 10 times and just barely flinch.

However the Superman mod allows you to take things to the next level and actually become Superman in your game!

Fly around, use your super strength, and murder civilians as it would happen in a dark DC alternate universe.

7. Car Pack for San Andreas

San Andreas has been around for far too long, and I don’t know about you, but I’m sick of seeing the same cars over and over again.

There are some car mods that you can download, which will install them directly into the game. But you may also use this pack to get a bunch of them added instantly to your San Andreas safe.

Gone are the days of seeing the same cars pass time and time again – it’s time to spice up your game with a plethora of new rides!

6. Parkour Mod

The fantastic Parkour Mod allows CJ to perform true acrobatic moves without getting interrupted in the air.

Combine the essence of Assassin’s Creed with San Andreas and experience being a true gangster while also knowing a thing or two about street athleticism like it wasn’t originally possible in the game.

It really does spice up the game, and it’s actually hilarious seeing CJ perform many of these unexpected moves!

5. Portal Gun for GTA San Andreas

The Teleport mod that we mentioned above is cool and all, but why not bring the essence of GLaDOS to GTA San Andreas if you have the chance?

Sure, this mod will not take you from one corner of San Andreas to the other, but it will enable you to create portals, much as you do in the Portal games!

This mod is fantastic to be installed if you loved the famous puzzle-solvers, and it does enrich your San Andreas experience like no other mod on this list.

4. Memory Update for San Andreas

San Andreas was made to be run in old computers as well as the PS2 and the Xbox, which meant that the game was very limited in terms of how much memory it was allowed to use.

This mod updates the core GTA San Andreas mechanics and makes the game work with all of the power that modern computer has. Which enables your game to load much more of the map, increasing your viewing distance by almost as much as GTA V allows you to have.

Definitely worth trying in my opinion.

3. GTA V Hud for San Andreas

Weapon swapping in the early GTA games was a nightmare. There’s just no other way around it.

Gone are the days where you scroll past the weapon that you actually wanted to select, though!

This mod brings you the ultimate experience of the famous wheel weapon selector that was introduced in the PS3 and Xbox 360, and I’m therefore bringing it to you now.

2. San Andreas First Person Mod

Gta San Andreas Free Install

Rockstar enabled first-person gameplay when GTA V got its current-gen console release, but San Andreas never really had it and people were still playing the game, which is not really fair to them.

Some of these mods might even look better if you were to play in first person, don’t you think?

I do too, and that’s why this mod takes such a high spot on my list.

It basically enables you to play San Andreas like never before, so you can see how CJ truly feels across the story.

You’ll also be able to play around as Iron Man or Spiderman in first person, were you to install the respective mods that enable you to do so, but bear in mind that this mod was made to work with vanilla SA.

1. CLEO 4

The CLEO 4 Mod takes the first spot on my list because it basically enables most of the mods that I’ve mentioned before, all at once.

It unlocks many features that the game didn’t initially come with and allows modders to alter certain features of the game that weren’t meant to be altered in the initial release.

Gta San Andreas Mac Cheats

The original version of this mod allowed most modders to work with new tools, and completely overhaul San Andreas with new ideas of their own.

The revolutionary nature of this fantastic add-on rightfully earns it the first place on the list. And you will probably need it if you want many of the others to work so it’s almost like the framework of all San Andreas modding.

Mod Gta San Andreas For Mac Free

Browse:Grand Theft AutoVideo Games

Stay Connected

Macetes Mod Gta San Andreas

0 notes

jspark3000 · 7 years

Text

Ugly Asian Male: On Being the Least Attractive Guy in the Room

Statistically, I’m the least attractive person in the dating scene. Alongside black women, the Asian-American male is considered the most ugly and undesirable person in the room.

Take it from Steve Harvey, who won’t eat what he can’t pronounce:

youtube

Eddie Huang, creator of the groundbreaking Asian-American sitcom Fresh Off the Boat, responded to Steve Harvey in The New York Times:

“[Every] Asian-American man knows what the dominant culture has to say about us. We count good, we bow well, we are technologically proficient, we’re naturally subordinate, our male anatomy is the size of a thumb drive and we could never in a thousand millenniums be a threat to steal your girl.”

Asian-American men, like me, know the score. That is, we don’t count at all.

Hollywood won’t bank on me. Think: When was the last time you saw an Asian male kiss a non-Asian female in a movie or TV show? Or when was the last time an Asian-American male was the desired person in a romantic comedy? And more specifically, when where they not Kung Fu practitioners or computer geniuses? I can only think of two examples: Steven Yeun as Glenn from The Walking Dead and John Cho as Harold from Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle. So it takes either a zombie apocalypse or the munchies to see a fully breathing Asian male lead, or a Photoshop campaign #StarringJohnCho for an Asian protagonist with actual thoughts in his head.

It’s so rare to see a three-dimensional Asian male character, with actual hopes and dreams, that Steven Yeun remarks in GQ Magazine:

GQ Magazine: When you look back on your long tenure on The Walking Dead, what makes you proudest?

Steven Yeun: Honestly, the privilege that I had to play an Asian-American character that didn’t have to apologize at all for being Asian, or even acknowledge that he was Asian. Obviously, you’re going to address it. It’s real. It’s a thing. I am Asian, and Glenn is Asian. But I was very honored to be able to play somebody that showed multiple sides, and showed depth, and showed a way to relate to everyone. It was quite an honor, in that regard. This didn’t exist when I was a kid. I didn’t get to see Glenn. I didn’t get to see a fully formed Asian-American person on my television, where you could say, “That dude just belongs here.” Kids, growing up now, can see this show and see a face that they recognize. And go, “Oh my god. That’s my face too.”

Growing up, I never had that, either. I can’t help but think of this scene from the biopic, Dragon: The Bruce Lee Story, in which Bruce Lee watches the controversial Asian stereotype played by Mickey Rooney in Breakfast at Tiffany’s to a theater filled with derisive laughter. This moment with Bruce Lee is most likely fictional, but the weight of it is not lost on us:

youtube

This was a powerful moment for me as a kid, because I grew up with the same sort of mocking laughter, whether it was watching Short Round in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom with my white neighbors, or being assailed by the Bruce Lee wail in the local grocery store. I knew they were laughing at me, and not with.

“But hey wait!”—I’m told, with fervent knowing, “I know some Asian guys who are hot!” and I’m pointed to an infamous Buzzfeed list that shows “the hottest Asian men who will prove you wrong about Asian men,” with zero irony. Yes, I’ve seen the list. And yes, they’re like I expected: hard-rock glistening abs that are impossible for the working Asian dad, with classically European, chiseled faces and surgically-lifted eyes. More than that, it plays into the same creepy objectification of Asians as sexual play-toys.

youtube

Perhaps even worse than the portrayal of Asian men is how they’re not. More often, an acting role becomes “whitewashed” to suit a global audience, or an Anglo-American is the audience-avatar as a safety net for box office returns (remember, the last samurai in The Last Samurai was white).

I know this is a shrill, ill-discussed subject with all kinds of variables, but from the prosthetic slanted eyes in Cloud Atlas to race-bleaching in Ghost in the Shell to the the “Yellow Peril” demonizing of Asian males as evil ninjas and drug dealers in Daredevil and Iron Fist, Asian-Americans—especially males, as females can still literally serve as co-stars—are vastly both mis- and under-represented. We’re used for a footnote joke at the Academy Awards (the same year that there was a campaign called #OscarsSoWhite), an overly loud insane person in raunchy comedies like The Hangover or Saving Silverman, or a “funny foreigners” punchline in the falsely interpreted romantic comedy, 500 Days of Summer.

One of the obvious reasons that Asian-Americans are sidelined in the mainstream is because there’s no money in it. It’s that simple. Freddie Wong, in his parody video of Ghost in the Shell casting Scarlett Johansson, says it best:

“Because, as a studio executive, the immorality of whitewashing a beloved work of Japanese culture is outweighed by my fear that audiences won’t want to watch a movie starring an Asian woman. And I don’t have the balls to take that risk. Besides, whatever political outrage this decision evokes doesn’t materially effect how much money I make.”

youtube

In other words, we’re stuck in a Catch-22. There can be no roles for an Asian-American unless it guarantees a profit, but since we’re not portrayed regularly in most media, there’s never a chance for Asian-American leads to draw a profit in the first place. I get the bottom line here, and I’m not so oblivious to consider that investors are all idealistic innovators. The creative risk is too daring. From an executive’s point of view, I can almost painfully understand.

So besides whitewashing an entirely Asian property, the next best thing is to throw in a scrap of representation by using the whole stereotype. Make the Asian guy the smartest or the martial artist, and there’s your token diversity. It’s why major Hollywood blockbusters have now made shoehorned references to China: because they’re a huge source of box office revenue, and a pandering shout-out to China, no matter how forced or unoriginal, will mean more ticket sales. (It’s even going the other way, with Chinese movies like The Great Wall casting a white role to get more sales in America.)

Yet these roles have little nuance and only serve to further someone else’s plot. I’m the Manic Pixie Dream Girl and the Magical Negro, rolled into a non-threatening sidekick or the meditative Zen master. I will never be the action star or the romantic lead. God forbid that an Asian-American male would ever win against a non-Asian.

In some cases, Asians have capitalized on their own mockery by making fun of themselves in minstrel-like deprecation. I was surprised to find that the first winner of Last Comic Standing was a Vietnamese-American named Dat Phan, until I saw his routine, which went for the lowest hanging fruit possible. If you can’t beat the laughter, why not become the jester? Even other Asians want in on their own sabotage.

Representation for the Asian-American only seems to happens when it aims for the least common denominator. The cheapest move, of course, is to completely hijack the “exotic quaintness” of Asian culture without going “fully Asian,” in order to boost a pseudo-masculinity. It’s easy: throw in Chinese tattoos or an Asian-type mysticism, and the non-Asian character instantly gains credibility. You can make up an Asian-sounding name, like “David Wong,” actual name Jason Pargin, a white author at Cracked.com, or Michael Derrick Hudson, a white poet who uses pen name “Yi-Fen Chou,” and watch the doors open. All the benefits, none of the fuss. Use my name without the actual struggle.

youtube

Of course, Asian-Americans are accused of allowing such undercover racism in the mainstream because we’re silent, passive, and obedient. We’re easy targets. We don’t typically march or cause disruption. We’re not socially involved. It’s why a huge clothing company like Abercrombie & Fitch can make shirts with Asian stereotypes like “Two Wongs Can Make It White.” It’s why Stephen Colbert (whom I love, by the way), can get away with non-apologies when he cracks yet another Asian joke. It’s why Ryo Oyamada, a 24 year old Japanese college student, can get run over by a police car in New York, and the officer goes free and no one chants in the streets.

If you replaced the race with any other, the response would be louder, with solidarity on every side. Asian? No one cares. Literally and statistically, no one cares. Worst of all, it appears that Asians don’t care, either. It’s always a surprise when we speak up. You can drag an Asian-American off an airplane, and the most noise you’ll hear from other Asians is that they just don’t want to be seen as noisy and displeasing.

The thing is, there are no shortage of Asian-American men who are physically and intellectually desirable, who could portray themselves as fully living beings with compelling stories and relatable conflicts. Is it possible that the mainstream, for all its talk about diversity, is afraid of encountering a man who is both Asian-American and attractive? Is it simply intolerable to witness an Asian-American switch lanes between the sidekick and the star? Has the Asian-American male been permanently imprinted as comic relief or Karate expert? Is it too culturally explosive to pair an Asian-American male with a non-Asian female? Can we really handle an Asian alpha male who gets the girl at the end? (Much less a non-Asian female lead get an Asian guy at the end?)

I have to admit that some of this is on us. No, I don’t mean that we brought it on ourselves. I would never, ever perpetuate blaming the victim. I mean that we can still fight against the pervasive, seemingly impermeable walls around the identity of the Asian male, by reaching and demanding for more challenging roles in every sphere of media. The shift in perception of the Asian-American male coincides with a shift in self-perception.

Is it also possible to take a creative risk without guarantees? I know today’s market is less likely to pave new ground, with its risk-averse eye on sequels and reboots and recycling the same tale, but I wonder how we can tell new tales without resorting to the cheapest, easiest cliches, without exploiting Asian culture for “mystical credibility” but celebrating its uniqueness with a thoughtful exploration of both its treasures and its trials.

I’ll leave you with a quote from Lewis Tan, the half-Asian-American actor who was rejected for the role of Iron Fist. In a recent interview, he says:

“I’ve turned down a couple roles. My agents will tell you when I first signed with them, I turned down the first three or four things that came up. I’ve just turned down roles that were super-stereotypically Asian that I didn’t feel represented me and I didn’t want to do. Not to necessarily say they’re bad roles, but it just wasn’t me. I’m not going to do this dorky Asian accent and just play someone in the background. That’s not why I’m here to act. I’m here to represent and to make stories that I believe in and to achieve new things in the industry.”

#Asian-American #race #culture #art #media #representation #POC #Steven Yeun #Iron Fist #racism #whitewashing #Orientalism #yellow peril #mysticism #appropriation #North Korea #China #social commentary

584 notes · View notes