#edit; i have been made aware you can’t use black widow on him either

[unholycourier]

genuinely so sad i can’t use confirmed bachelor on him or ANYTHING.

[not-from-the-absence-of-violence]

And I took you by the hand (And we stood tall)

The night after Margaret leaves Travis and Gable finally talk. And cuddle.

thank you to rowan @drowninginstarlights for editing again! <3

Gable isn’t exactly sure what they expect to find when they go look for Travis, ostensibly to go over the plans for the Bandit Queen’s arrival. Really, it’s more of a lousy excuse to drink together, and they certainly aren’t expecting Travis ro be staring wistfully out the window and crying quietly.

“Travis?” they say tentatively.

He turns to look at them, catches their gaze for an instant and immediately away again. He doesn’t snap at them to leave, though, and Gable knows that’s about as much of an invitation to stay as you’re likely to get from Travis.

They carefully take a few steps forward, setting down the bottle of wine they’d brought on the floor. He doesn’t say anything, and still doesn’t look them in the eye, but he gets walks into their arms anyway.

Gable is a little surprised. Such displays of intimacy are uncommon between them unless they were either drunk or annoying each other, and this isn’t either of those. He doesn’t break down sobbing into their chest, but he holds on tight and breathes out slowly, grounding himself. Gable only stiffens for a second before instinct kicks in and they wrap their arms around him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” they say after holding him for a while.

He groans. “If I have to,” he says.

Gable almost goes to tell him he doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to, but he looks at them with an edge of pleading in his eyes, and they let go.

They sit on opposite sides of the hammock, Travis still looking away from them. Searching for words. “I just don’t know how to start,” he admits.

Gable silently offers him the bottle. He looks at it for too long and shakes his head. Gable is taken aback, and they know it’s visible on their face by the way Travis manages to muster a smirk.

“I can talk without being drunk,Gable,” he says. “What do you take me for.”

Gable feels a momentary swell of pride, followed by some annoyance that at some point, Travis had gotten better at this than they are.

Instead then, Gable offers their hand, and he holds it. He still doesn’t look at them, but that’s alright.

“I don’t think I ever told you I was married,” he starts.

“What?” Gable says. It stings that they’ve been together for so long and Travis never once trusted them with this. But then Gable sees him flinch at their tone, and pull away a little.

They realise slowly that this is him trusting them now.

They catch his hand. “Sorry,” they say sheepishly. “Just a shock.”

He shrugs, but keeps holding their hand. “If it’s any consolation I didn’t know you that long. It was-,” he stops to calculate for a moment. “It must be over one hundred and seventy years ago by now. That she passed, I mean.”

Silence falls between them as Gable gapes at him. Not only was Travis married, Travis is a widower.

And it’s not just that. He didn’t tell them, and Gable knows that means he didn’t tell anyone. He’s been alone with his pain for well over a century now.

“Oh, Travis,” they say, and they can't help pulling him back into their embrace. His back to their chest, so he can be held without looking at them. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“She drowned,” he says, his voice hollow, “We were running. We had to cross a river and then the Mariner-” He chokes on the last bit of the sentence and Gable holds him tighter, rocking them a little.

“I wasn’t strong enough,” he says, “We were supposed to die together, but then…”

He trails off and Gable makes a small noise of pain. Helplessly, they kiss the top of his head, and murmur some nonsense comfort. They have no clue what to say, how to fix this.

They think of the fight with The Mariner and the water flooding Nordia. They think of every time he got jumpy around bridges. They close their eyes, squeezing him a little, and wonder why things aren’t ever allowed to be simple.

“There’s, uh. More,” he says. There always is. “Do you remember Margaret?”

“Travis, she only left a few hours ago. I am not that stupid.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, well. My wife’s name was Margaret.”

Gable looks puzzled. “You’re upset because there’s a woman with your wife's name… who left?”

He closes his eyes and buries his face in their shoulder and mumbles something they can’t make out.

“What?” Gable asks.

“I think she was her.”

“Margaret the black lily that gave you back your arm, that conducted a seance with us, who just left was… your dead wife?”

Travis can’t help but laugh a little. “Well, when you put it like that, it sounds ridiculous.”

Gable laughs a bit in disbelief too. “How does that even work?” they ask, slightly hysterically.

“I don’t know!” he says, matching their hysterical tone, then adds in a softer voice, “I’m sure of it, though.”

“Well, shit,” they say, and then they can’t help adding, “I can’t believe I kissed your wife.”

That's apparently what it takes to make Travis to burst out laughing, which eventually dissolves into vague, hiccupped sobbing.

Gable looks at him with concern, but he waves them off.  “I think everything is sort of, catching up with me at once,” he says wiping his tears.

“Oh wow, did the great Travis Matagot repress his feelings for too long,” they say, deadpan, “What a surprise.”

He swats at them lightly. “Oh, you’re one to talk.”

Gable is very aware of that. They know that the pair of them are just a couple of messes cobbled together, when you get down to it.

“Does Margaret know?” Gable asks eventually.

He shrugs. “Probably?”

Gable stands up suddenly. “Do you want to go look for her?”

He considers it for a while. “She made a promise,” he says, “Before she left, that if I looked for her I would find her.”

“So?”

He sighs. “We have a job to do, don’t we?”

Gable badly wants to tell him that it doesn’t matter, but they know they can’t. They have Jonnit and a whole crew relying on them. And upsetting the Bandit Queen hardly seems a smart move.

“Yes,” they say solemnly “We do.”

He nods, resignedly. “I guess I’ll have to trust in it then.”

“Trust…?”

“Trust in the promise. That she’s out there, that I’ll find her when I can. That I haven’t lost her again.”

They smile sadly. They’ve got this far, at least.  “You should try to sleep now,” they suggest. “You look tired.”

He shrugs, but then gives in and nods. He gives them a slightly convincing smile.

Right before they’re about to walk out, they hear a soft voice.

“Gable?”

They turn around and look at him, and he’s looking back at them. They hold the fragile gaze between them.

“Thank you,” he says.

“Do you want me to stay?” they ask knowingly.

“Yes.”

Gable smiles, small and sweet. “Any time.”

[zmediaoutlet]

8 and 29 for the ask game :D

o shit, I missed this one last night! Well, it’ll be a good thing to do with my morning tea... and dang, anon, you came with the guillotine-asks:

8)     If you could remove one season of supernatural, which one would it be and why? 

Is it too easy to say s15? I love the ending, and I don’t even... mind, really, the super meta ‘break out of the story’ plot, because it’s a very self-aware way to end a repetitive g.d. show that’s been on for 15 g.d. years. But everything about the execution was embarrassing and bad, on almost every level. Writing, editing, directing, even acting at points. (It’s rough when you can tell how uninvested the series leads are in the literal end of their series. Thank god for the return to form in the finale.)

But since that is too easy, and honestly the season would’ve been fine if anyone involved seemed invested or willing to try: s14 is the one to lose. Honestly, like. What even happened. What a treadmill. Michael!Dean was an abortion of a storyline, and the whole Nick thing was just... sad and badly done, and the ability to actually carry through a plot arc seemed to be missing entirely. And then what did it do, really, for the story? It was just another treadmill with no real future ramifications other than Chuck showing up to say ‘neener neener, here’s what s15 will [allegedly] be about.’ You could do that anytime, and then we wouldn’t have to sit there and pretend that Peaky Blinders outfit was a good idea. So, yeah. Bye, s14. Wish you’d never existed.

29)   You can cut one character at any point of the show. Who would it be AND what would happen as a result? 

OBVIOUSLY I WOULD CUT OUT THE RETURN OF MARY. Like, christ, what an embarrassingly sloppy storyline that was! To be clear: I don’t mind the aspect where it turns out she was a kinda shitty mom---as someone who’s very definitely childfree myself, I’m all for complicated depictions of moms and children---but a) Samantha Smith can’t really act, like... it’s bad, seriously, good lord, and b) like... what was that even for? What was served, by that? I’m a firm believer that we don’t need to tear open and exhaust every single part of a character’s past---like, I’m in the camp that doesn’t want a Black Widow movie, because she’s more interesting with mystery---so to have this iconic pillar of the show’s mythology get destroyed just so, I guess, Dean can go “I forgive you” in this bizarre scene that wasn’t actually supported at all by what preceded it? ...Yeah, no thanks.

So, what would happen, if Amara had just said “hey Dean, thanks for reuniting me with my brother, as thanks I will manifest for you that rare Impala carburetor part you haven’t been able to source on eBay, no why would I do something with your mother, that would be dumb”? First of all, Sam and Dean wouldn’t have known what they were missing (plus the carb would run better). Second... not much would change, honestly. The more-interesting part of s12 was the BMoL story (even if that, too, was done badly), and we don’t really need Mary involved in that. Sub her part with Castiel/Jody/whatever and it works just the same, if you even want to have a ‘good guy’ involved with them before the split. She wasn’t useful for the Lucifer-Jack-Kelly plot, so no loss there. At the end, when Jack’s born, I guess someone has to shove Lucifer into the floaty vagina portal, but... anyone could do that, again, and then we wouldn’t get that cringey mom-power scene. I am actually invested in the very obviously accidental character work that was revealed by how bad the Mary storyline is, i.e. that it’s very easy to read it as Sam and Dean realizing that they don’t actually like or need her, but they’re kinda trying (but not that hard)---but that’s a subtextual reading that you get from the performance and editing and not from actual authorial intent, and so I’d lose it for a storyline that actually... worked.

So, from then on, ramifications: Jack doesn’t obsess over getting their mother back, so we get to ignore the AU. I guess you could still have the AU plot where Michael comes over (in theory Kevin can still open a portal?), but the whole AU storyline was so shittily done that, really, what would we be missing if it didn’t happen. Either way: Mary doesn’t actually serve any plot functions at all that couldn’t be either ignored or accomplished by a more interesting character, and with her gone we don’t have to watch her awkward acting or the wobbly confusion of her alleged character arc, so... bye, Felicia. 

--- All of which is to say, with both answers: the enduring problem of the Dabb era is that the man cannot follow through on a coherent plot arc to save his life. I think it’s something to do with him being a comics guy---if something doesn’t work, whatever! Just reboot and ignore it and it’s a new story. But television doesn’t (shouldn’t) work that way, and Supernatural really wasn’t supposed to work that way. It’s not wonder Jared and Jensen looked at each other and went ‘jesus christ, this isn’t working.’ It really wasn’t. Again, thank god for 15.20 (and, awfully, all the COVID restrictions that made it the episode it should’ve been, instead of the pure nauseating debacle that they planned). ((Seriously, have you seen the plans and rumors about how it was ‘supposed’ to go? I’ve never had such a strong sense of Matrix-esque bullets dodged. Kansas?? Happy weepy John meeting them in heaven??? WHAT THE FUCK, DABB, WHAT THE FUCK--))

[tiaragqueen]

The numbers are from Aggressive Yandere Starter Prompts, and the quote is from the Abused Viewpoint prompts! ❣️❣️ sorry for not being clear :’) ~ pastel anon🌸

Give Way

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Kim Taehyung x Reader

✂ Word Count: 1,4k

✂ Trigger Warning: Violence, kidnapping, death, shooting, sadism, possessive behavior, yandere theme.

✂ This story is fictional and for amusement only. I don’t believe any of the members would do this in real life. As always, thank you for reading and I hope you have a good day!

Donot re-upload my writing to another website or use it without mypermission.

[Edited]

***

9. “So, they’re a friend of yours? What did I say about talking to other people?”

17. “Maybe if I branded you, other people wouldn’t be such a nuisance.”

18. “I swear, if anyone lays a hand on you, I’ll chop their arm off.”

I know you didn’t request for Mafia AU but I wanted to try it out for once. Also, I excluded the prompt from The Abused Viewpoint because I couldn’t fit in with the rest of the scenario and because it’s way easier to write prompts from the same place. Hope you don’t mind.

If you like mywriting, please support me on ko-fi!

“Just to get you, I’m doing whatever works. You ain’t never met anybody that will do ya how I do ya, that’ll bring you to your knees.” – Black Widow [Iggy Azalea]

Unknown [4.45 pm]: Come to my house if you still want them to live.

You gripped your phone after rereading the text for at least five times already. You didn’t need to search, didn’t need to think to know who this ‘unknown’ was. The hint was blatant; it couldn’t even be called a ‘hint’ anymore. Still, it didn’t ease the nerves that skyrocketed the moment you saw the sender. Telling the cab driver the address, you clenched your clammy fists and fidgeted on the seat. Oh, how tempting it was to just open the door and roll your way out.

But you weren’t one of those cool spies in movies. You couldn’t do a stunt to even save your life. So, what made you think you could escape in the middle of busy traffic?

At least, the injury would be nothing compared to the situation you’d about to confront. That is if a car didn’t crush you first.

“Miss, we already arrived.” The driver’s raspy voice snapped you out from your slightly suicidal and illogical thoughts. You swallowed and reluctantly climbed out of the cab. It drove away as soon as you paid him, and you resisted the urge to call him again.

No, you couldn’t back out now. That would be complying with his wish, even if he did want you to be there.

One of the guards regarded you coldly once you arrived at the doorstep and led you inside. There was nothing different from the familiar living room, where you used to listen to Taehyung’s rambling about those antique paintings that hung on the wall. You never really understood the meaning or the beauty behind them since you weren’t very knowledgeable in the art of painting. In fact, you considered them as… creepy, to say the least.

And now that you grew more aware of your surroundings – thanks to the paranoia Taehyung had instilled in you and months of running away from him – you could feel their eyes following your movements. You shivered, walking a bit closer to the stone guard. Regardless, he paid no heed to your obvious fear and hesitation and roughly pushed you into a lone room in the basement.

You weren’t surprised when you saw Taehyung already waiting for you, standing behind the twins whose face were concealed under dark bags. They snapped their heads towards your direction once they heard the slam of the door shut, chest heaving from dread. They must’ve known it was you because seconds later they were already screaming and wiggling against the ropes.

But you couldn’t hear them. Not because their voices were muffled, but because your eyes had glued themselves on to Taehyung’s broad back. He was clad in his usual crisp, black suit complemented with a pair of polished dress shoes. You used to think he was handsome in that outfit, but now he looked more menacing than attractive.

Still, you couldn’t deny his appeal.

“You came.” It wasn’t a greeting. It was a statement. He knew you’d come. He knew you weren’t selfish enough to let your friends die at his hands. Literally. After all, what would the famous mafia do to get what he wanted? He could easily get away from the police, either through bribery or force.

“Let them go,” you said, faking confidence that probably seemed laughable to him because you – too – were also trembling in your boots. But you needed to be brave, although outwardly, for the sake of them. Taehyung preyed on your fear - like a monster he was - and the fact that he used your friends against you confirmed that.

Taehyung said nothing at first. Instead, he approached the sobbing twins and put his hand on one of their shoulders. You tensed instinctively, ready to tackle him should he ever do something remotely… harmful to them. “So, they’re a friend of yours?” he asked.

You knew he knew, which was why you didn’t bother to answer.

“What did I say about talking to other people?”

“I’m not your property, Taehyung.” you retorted. “Nor am I your girlfriend anymore.”

He hummed nonchalantly, keeping one hand hidden from you. “Well, you did escape me. So, if anything, you’re still technically my girlfriend.”

Calm down, [Name]. Take a deep breath. He just wanted to provoke you. Just like he always did. Therefore, you shouldn’t let him have the satisfaction of seeing your anger.

“You’re sick, Taehyung.” You spat his name like it was poison in your tongue. “That’s why I escaped from you. No normal man would keep his girlfriend locked inside some fancy house and punish her for the slightest mistake.”

“I did it for you,” he defended. Though, it didn’t exactly sound like one. In fact, it almost felt like he was scolding you. As if you were some kind of a naïve child that knew nothing about manners and punishments. “I need to discipline you. If I didn’t do it, then what kind of a boyfriend am I?”

You shuddered indignantly. “I’m not a fucking child.”

“Ah!” He suddenly snapped his fingers, face lit up like a child at Christmas. You could say that he appeared almost… delighted to hear you swearing. You mentally reminded yourself that you weren’t his lover anymore, therefore you didn’t have a reason to feel like you’d ‘fucked up’ in some way. “There it is! It’s been a long time since I heard you cursing. Seems like you’ve been bratty, eh?” Taehyung nodded, as though he had come into an understanding. What kind of understanding, you had no idea. “These two have been poisoning your mind and destroying your manners. We can’t have that, can we?”

You frowned, though you still maintained your overall pissedexpression.

“Maybe if I branded you, other people wouldn’t be such a nuisance.” Taehyung closed his eyes, seemingly pondering over something. This wasn’t the first time he’d acted this way – spouting nonsense and just generally being contemplative – but it never meant anything good. Maybe because you always acted out during those times. “No, wait. You’re not in the wrong here. No, no, no. They’re the ones at fault here.”

You didn’t know whether you should be glad or confused with his statement.

“… And that’s why,” your eyes immediately widened when he whipped out a gun from his back pocket. “They should die instead.”

On instinct, you stepped forward and stretched out a hand. It was futile, you knew that much, but at least you’ve tried to stop him. “No–!”

And you already knew, no matter how much it hurt, that he would never stop and listen to your reason.

Bang!

The abrupt sound echoed in your ears as you stumbled on to the ground. You winced and looked up, discerning one of your friends instantly went motionless. The living twin cried through the cloth and squirmed on the chair in a futile attempt to save their now deceased sibling. You frowned and turned your head away, already aware of what would happen very soon.

It wasn’t long until Taehyung put them out of their misery as well, thus declaring the tragic death of your friends. The people who have helped you escape and provided you with their humble apartment. The people who have comforted you through the trauma you’d endured during your time in his house.

And worst of all, you never got the chance to truly and sincerely say ‘thank you’.

“See? This is what happens when people mess with my possession.” He ambled towards you and put a finger under your quivering chin. Tears trickled down and dripped on to his palm, yet he found your expression to be simply delightful. “Aw… Are you sad because your little friends are dead, my dear?”

You closed your eyes, unable to see the haunting sight or the malicious glint in his irises.

“How cute,” he cooed. “Crying like a baby you are.” Taehyung grinned wickedly, gripping your jaw in a near-crushing grasp. You didn’t even have the strength to fight back. It was like their deaths had drained you of the stamina and will to live. Well, how could you fight anyway? He was definitely stronger than you. Beating you would be like a walk in the park. That, and because you feared that he might shoot you the same way he did to those twins.

Though, you did wonder if it was better alive and suffer his constant punishments than die painlessly and peacefully. At least, you’d have your friends and other unfortunate people he’d killed in the past.

“But, you know what? This won’t be the last time you’ll see this. I swear, if anyone lays a hand on you, I’ll chop their arm off.”

[judieasley57]

The Chilbury Ladies’ Choir

By Jennifer Ryan

418 pages, ebook, hardcover, paperback, audiobook, audio CD

Broadway Books, Random House, LLC,

February 2017

Historical fiction, Women’s lit

This book also has a second cover, which is absolutely lovely.

This book is written in the form called epistolary. Written with notices, letters, journal entries and notes by the women of the ladies’ choir.

Epistolary novel – Wikipedia

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Epistolary_novel

An epistolary novel is a novel written as a series of documents. The usual form is letters, although diary entries, newspaper clippings and other documents are sometimes used. Recently, electronic “documents” such as recordings and radio, blogs, and e-mails have also come into use.

Using this format created an interesting insight into the story. It allowed the author to move the story along simply by changing to another journal or letter. Let the next person tell the story from their viewpoint, reveal their secrets, see things from their side of the village square.

I was sold on the beautiful cover that I saw originally advertised, the one on the hardcover version of the book. I thought it was so lovely with the women standing on the hills over their village and watching the planes. The colors were so soft and yet they glowed. I wish that had been on the Kindle edition that I purchased. The substitute cover is not anywhere near as nice.

The book is about the women in a village called Chilbury who form a women’s-only choir. They are almost scandalized at their own termidity, women-only. No men? Surely you can’t have a choir without men. But they do, and they do it very well. Prim, their new choir mistress, shows them the way. She shows them how to sing from their hearts and how it makes their music better. So much better that they win a contest. Prim is killed in the bombing and Mrs. Tilling takes the position as choir mistress. Mrs. Tilling really starts to change from that point. She finds her strength and her courage and she does what needs doing. Mrs. Tilling was a very interesting character. She starts out as a mother who is just trying to hold out until her son comes home from the war. She wants nothing to do with anyone from outside the village. She’s not even particularly friendly to those in the village. She’s a nurse by training, and has taken the midwife training so that she can help Hattie when it comes time for her to have her child. She’s worried about the other midwife in the village, Miss Paltry. As it happens, Mrs. Tilling is out of town the day the two babies due are born. And Miss Paltry takes advantage completely. Mrs. Tilling eventually figures out what has been done and makes Miss Paltry aware of the fact that she knows what’s happened. She also makes her confess. So she knows Miss Paltry’s secret. By extension, she knows the Brigadier’s secret, too. She collects secrets simply by being on hand when things happen. Nursing a fatally wounded soldier, she has an errand to do for him after he dies. She has to take a ring to “Carrington”. Carrington turns out to be another injured soldier on leave who was his homosexual lover. This is illegal in this time. But Mrs. Tilling doesn’t judge these two men. She delivers the ring and the message of love and keeps their secret. She even stands up to the young man’s father when he tries to interfere, Viscount Carrington. This earns her young Carrington’s respect and friendship, which she later needs to help with another matter. She initially doesn’t want anything to do with her lodger. She resents him because he is staying in her son’s room. Finally, she realizes that he is just a human being doing his job for the war and she starts treating him much better. She makes his meals and talks with him. They share the basement bunker much more congenially. They discuss his children, three little girls. She discovers he’s a widower. In the end, she marries him and moves to London with him. She loves him. She has come to accept that her son is a grown man now and will come home whether she is there or not, if that is his fate. The Colonel’s job is in London and there are plenty of hospitals in London where she can do a lot of good.

Venetia Winthrop is a young femme fatale. Taking every man around just because she can, not because she wants them. She even takes the man her sister, Kitty, desperately wants and believes will marry her. Venetia finally has to really work to get one particular man to give in. Alistair is mysterious. He’s an artist, but he’s much more. He’s into the black market and other things. She’s seen him speaking with a man in poor-fitting clothes speaking German and handing over a passport and papers. Then he disappears during the bombing. Venetia fears he’s dead. She also discovers she’s pregnant with his child. The word gets out and causes all sorts of trouble. A fight with Henry gets physical and puts an end to her pregnancy and their very brief engagement. Henry’s fighting with everyone and puts an end to Kitty’s allusions about marriage as well. It’s the loss of her child that helps Venetia finally to grow up and focus on being a decent person. Then when she sees Alistair in the audience at the concert, she knows she still loves him and only him.

These were the two women that I liked the best in the book. But much more happened. People died in the bombing. Babies got swapped. People got paid off. Money got stolen. People got taken advantage of. Bullies got straightened out. Women found their strength in joining together and singing. In supporting each other.

The author provided questions for discussion at the end. One of them was “What impact did the war have on women, work, and society? How do you think women’s equality has progressed since the Second World War? War made women stronger because they had to do the work men had been doing just to keep things running at home while the men were off at war. They worked the farms completely, even the hard, physical jobs the men used to do. They worked the factories the men used to work. It wasn’t easy at first, women had to build up the muscle to do some of these jobs and the stamina to keep going, but they managed to do it. The country didn’t stop because the men were gone. When the men came back, the women were in their jobs and some didn’t want to give up the well-paying jobs. It caused problems. The women lost their positions and the men were given their jobs back for the most part. But women had had a taste of running things and they knew they were strong and capable. They’d come out of the box and they really didn’t fit back in the box anymore. Men and women still aren’t equal in the workplace today. In the military, there are still more men than women. In combat, women are limited in what they can do. In regular workplaces, men are paid better than women for the same positions. There is still not equality, but not for lack of effort on the part of the women.

Physically, the average man and woman are not equal. Physically, the average man is more capable of heavier labor than the average woman. So, each should be paid according to their abilities. When it comes to brain power, gender has nothing to do with ability, so it should have nothing to do with recompense either. When that happens, we will have equality.

Highly Recommended