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league-of-sam · 1 year ago

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Catching A Ghost | Simon 'GHOST' Riley

Ghost x Reader

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

Simon 'GHOST' Riley x AFAB!Reader!OC18+ MINORS DNI!t.w // angst, mental health, language, violence, death, sexual themes/SMUT, military inaccuracies, language inaccuracies (google translate).

Catching A Ghost: Masterlist

"Soap! What the fuck happened?"

"I-I don't know, L.T. S-she just...the lift, it fell-"

"Just what?! Johnny what the fuck happen-"

The mumbled sounds of your team yelling in your ear was all you could hear over the ringing.

Locking eyes with the man, you gasped, scrambling wobbly to your feet and snatching the controls from his hands. You brought the box up, smacking his face with it before making a run for it down the corridor.

"Shit shit shit- oh fuck- shit! Oh my god." you spoke, laboured breaths in between each word as you ran, dodging the bullets coming at you from behind.

"(Y/N)? Reaper is that you? Reaper how copy?"

"6-2 do you copy? Fuck!"

"Lieutenant Price sit-rep right now!"

Several voices called for you in response to your panicked words.

They could hear every gasp and curse you threw out as you fled through the hallways, before finding a small office.

Shoving a chair in front of the handle, you dropped to the floor, hiding under a table.

"Jesus H. Christ! Oh god I'm gonna die I'm gonna die..." you ranted, pulling the controls open, "Reaper to All Stations I got the controls, b-but I lost my weapons I'm completely blind."

"Fuckin' hell Boo what the fuck-"

"Simon please, shut the fuck up-" you spewed out, instantly feeling bad, "I'm sorry oh God they're so close...Fuck! Someone better tell me what to do right now!"

"Reaper you read me? It's Laswell."

"Loud and clear ma."

"Where the hell are ya?" Soap said.

"Hiding in an office...Laswell please I'm ready let's shut this fucker down."

The panic in your voice made all of them incredibly uneasy.

Ghost was freaking out, his heart feeling like it had been shattered from the way you shot him down.

Soap wanted to throw himself off the building for letting you slip out of his fingers. He'd ordered Gaz to stay with Price, and he was currently solo, fighting his way to you.

Price was ready to murder everyone the minute he caught on that you were alone out there.

"First I need you to calm down so you can concentrate, okay? Can you do that for me?"

You took a few deep breaths, whimpering as a soldier jiggled the handle to the door before moving on.

"Okay...shit, the target is D.C."

"Okay. Now give me the coordinates."

"Uh, thirty-eight, negative seventy-seven."

"That's the Pentagon."

"He's going for Shepherd?"

"No, Shepherd's gone-"

"Yeah well there are 30,000 people who aren't, finish it!"

Hearing your brother's voice brought a comfort to you, lifting the terrified haze just enough for you to focus.

"First, you need to enable diagnostic mode...hit CLEAR and MODE at the same time."

Your fingers moved to the buttons, and you whispered a countdown under your breath, "Okay, done."

"Next is the override. You should see four columns of data- I need to know what's in row two, column three."

The tips of your fingers shakily grazed the screen as you reeled off the code to Laswell, your tone hushed as you heard the soldiers fall back.

"Good girl, now hit LEFT and CLEAR to initiate override."

"Done."

"Get safe honey, this next part will make some noise."

Looking around the room, you noticed a small hole behind a cabinet, just small enough for you to crawl through.

Squeezing in, it brought you into a workshop.

You crawled along the floor, managing to slide behind a small sofa.

Suddenly, a light flashed onto your face, giving you the same message that Ghost had when you landed.

"G-ghost?"

He smiled a little, able to see your eyes relax slightly from his position, "I won't let 'em near ya, finish it."

You nodded in his vague direction, flipping the controls open once again.

"I'm ready, Kate."

"This is the last step...hit LINK when the green light is in the fourth position."

You did so, and the box began bleeping, "Oh shit-"

Slamming it shut, you ducked down, hand over your mouth so your breathing wouldn't give you away through your mask.

"We did it...thank you, lieutenant. Where's Hassan?"

"Fucking surrounded by his AQ zombies...I'm gonna kill every one of them, and then I'm gonna go for him. Out here."

"I'm on my way to ya, Reaper, stand by." Soap spoke.

"Negative. I'll see you on the other side, Ghost Team."

With that, you stood, sneaking through the shadows to get eyes on the soldiers around you.

"Nicely done, Reaper. Now for the hard part."

"That was the fuckin' hard part, Ghost. God, I need a weapon."

"Then make one."

You rolled your eyes, "Ah yeah sorry my bad! Lemme just take five fuckin' minutes to build a semi-auto while AQ hunt me down!"

"That mouth o' yours is really gonna get ya in trouble one of these days."

You snickered, opting not to answer as you snuck through the halls and rooms, picking up any material that could be useful to stop you, well...dying.

That involved you throwing metal into microwaves to cause explosions, looting through toolboxes, and fiddling broken shards of glass into a shiv. Surprisingly, it worked extremely well, and you managed to take down four of the soldiers, stealing their weapons and ammo.

"Would you believe me if I told you I was still absolutely shitting myself?" you said, head peeking around the next corner.

Ghost didn't answer, completely enamoured by your beauty, grace, and skill. You were a killer, through and though.

A killer with the warmest heart he'd ever known.

A killer, who warmed his own ice cold heart, yet proves over and over how little he is needed.

You didn't need him.

You were just fine on your own.

Every step you made, you could hear Hassan taunting you, over and over again.

"You are spineless!"

"You will not win this."

"It is inevitable. I am inevitable."

"Three times you almost got me, three times you failed. This blood is on your hands."

With your makeshift bombs and traps, you managed to stun the final soldier, running at him with your glass shiv. You knocked him down, his blood spurting over you as you brought the blade under his helmet and into his neck.

"Atta girl, now you need to-"

Ghost was cut off, as Hassan emerged from a side door, shooting several rounds of bullets at you.

They littered your vest, knocking the wind from you.

As you fell to the floor, your head collided with the marble tiles, and once again, your vision was blurry, and your eyes fell shut.

The last thing you saw, was Hassan stalking to you, grabbing your ankle.

Your eyes fluttered open, a searing pain in the side of your head.

Reaching up, you winced as your fingers touched your forehead. Pulling them away, you saw the crimson liquid drip.

You were being dragged along the floor and into another room, too dazed to try and defend yourself.

"I told you that your nation would see fire...you think you can stop me?" Hassan spoke, tossing you harshly to the side.

You whimpered as your body collided with the ground.

"G-ghost..." you strained.

"(Y/N)!" he replied, tone matching yours.

You rolled onto your side, trying to get off the ground.

Turning, you saw Hassan, ranting away as he blew out the window opposite you.

"W-watch the w...window."

You let out a cry once again as Hassan approached you, gripping onto your vest and hauling you off the floor.

"We are not attacking, we are invading." he said, a sickly smirk playing on his lips.

One of Hassan's hands moved up, ripping the mask from your face.

"Ah, there she is," he smiled, "the real face of the Reaper...my men were wondering when we'd finally see it. Hmm, so pretty."

You flinched away as his hands rubbed against your cheek, tracing your lips and jawline.

"Pity you're going to die...(Y/N) Price. Such a pretty, pretty waste." your eyes widened, and he laughed, "What? Didn't think I'd be able to figure you out? Had my men search for you since the day you captured me."

"Don't listen to him, Reaper, he's tryna get in your 'ead." Ghost spoke.

"Y-you'll die for t-this, Hassan."

His hand moved, gripping your neck tightly, and you gasped as you felt your feet lift, tiptoes barely grazing the ground.

He was squeezing, hard. And enjoying watching you struggle.

"You know, I almost can't believe I get to be the one to kill the famous Reaper."

"F-fuck you." you spat.

He smirked, letting out a chuckle, "Such fire, such soul! I can see why your team like you. Shame they'll have to stand idly by as they listen to you die."

Everyone on the team was listening.

Soap was running faster than he ever had, knowing he was your only chance.

Price had tried to stand, fighting off the marines and medics holding him down, desperate to try and help you. Gaz had to physically restrain him, holding back his own tears.

Laswell had broken every traffic law in existence to get to your position, hand over her mouth as she saw you slip over the edge, commanding the marines around her to do something, anything to stop you from dying.

On the other side of the street, Ghost was trying his hardest to save you, but the way Hassan held you up...it blocked every angle.

Every time his head moved, so did yours.

And you were edging closer and closer to the open window.

"I can't- Fuck! I can't get a clear shot."

A tear slipped from your eye, "T-then go through m-me..."

By now, you could feel your feet slipping as you tried to find grip on the ledge. Hassan was practically dangling you over the streets below.

He was going to drop you.

"L.T. don't! I'm almost to her!" Soap called out.

"Wha...n-no! 'm not fuckin' shootin' ya."

"It's the o-only way!"

"Negative. Not doin' that."

"It's you and me, yeah?" you said. "It's okay, Simon, it's okay."

Ghost felt his lip quiver under his mask.

The way you were echoing his words back to him as you begged him to kill you ripped through him harder than any bullet would.

"Echo 6-2 to all stations..." you gasped out as Hassan's hand tightened, "I fuckin' love you guys. S-see you on t-the other s...side."

You were so willing to give your life to the cause, and he fucking hated it.

"Soap!"

Your gleeful exclaim brought Ghost back.

"Now, L.T.!" Soap called.

Soap had burst through the door, making Hassan turn his head.

Bang.

Ghost wasted no time pulling the trigger.

But what none of you saw coming was the way in which Hassan's now-lifeless body would release you.

Fear flashed on your features as your feet scrambled to keep you upright, hands reaching out to try and grab onto something.

Anything.

Soap dived forward, yelling, and this time, you didn't slip away. His fingers closed around yours, and he yanked you toward him, the momentum knocking both of you to the ground.

His arms strapped tightly around you, both of you panting.

"You okay, pet?" Soap said, releasing you.

Rolling onto your back, you turned, looking at Hassan's dead body before turning back to Soap.

You nodded, wide eyed, and reached up for your radio, "6-2 to all stations, enemy KIA."

"Perfect shot, L.T." Soap said, panting as he leaned back on his knees.

"You called it, sergeant."

Soap stood, walking over to the corner of the room, and picked up your mask. With one hand, he pulled you off the floor, offering you a small smile before placing it back onto your face.

Your entire body was shaking, adrenaline running through your veins.

"We did it, (Y/N), it's over."

You let out a choked laugh, trying your hardest to hold back the tears that wanted to fall.

With one hand on your shoulder, he led you out of the room, and back to the team. As soon as the doors opened, you ran into Price's arms, holding onto him for dear life.

"The next time I hear you try and give up your life, I'm gonna kill ya myself." he joked.

"I second that." Laswell said, joining the hug.

One after another, the team piled on, until you were in the middle of a very large, very tight group hug...with your family.

It was over.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #task force 141 #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost fanart #call of duty #cod mw oc #cod mw2 #cod mwf2 #callofduty #gaming #cod mw19 #captain price #john mactavish

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thewnchstrs · 2 years ago

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Malleus Maleficarum

Pairing: Winchester!Sister (OC)

Summary: Sam, Dean and Ellie travel to Sturbridge, Massachusetts and discover a coven of witches that has killed two people.

Disclaimers: self-harm, suicide, angst, blood, mentions of death

Word Count: 7.4K

S E R I E S M A S T E R L I S T

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Sturbridge, Massachusetts

"She was so scared. I couldn't help; I couldn't do anything to stop it,” Mr. Dutton whispered in regret, staring off into space between Sam and Dean who were questioning him. His eyes flicked back up to them. “And I've talked to the police, and I've talked to the medical examiner and no one can explain it."

I shined my flashlight around every inch of the master bathroom that Janet Dutton died in, only half listening to their conversation as I searched for anything out of the ordinary that could give us a reason to believe this was our kind of job. "Well, that's why they put the call in to us Mr. Dutton."

"But the CDC, that's disease control, right? What do you think; it's some kind of virus?"

"We're not ruling out anything yet,” Dean said. I began searching through their medicine cabinet, pushing aside prescription bottles and bandaid boxes, but nothing was in there, either. “Mr. Dutton did Janet have any enemies?"

There was a beat of silence behind the bathroom door as Mr. Dutton processed the question. "I'm sorry?"

"Anyone that might have a reason to hurt her?" Sam asked this time. I rifled through the tall pantry, shuffling through the neatly folded towels, baskets of small perfume bottles, extra toothbrushes, hand soap. Absolutely nothing of interest.

"Wait, what are you saying? That somebody...poisoned her?"

"I'm just saying we have to cover every base here."

"Well, I mean, what kind of poison? You think a person could have done this?”

I nearly gave up on the search before I spotted the double cabinets beneath the sink. I squatted down, pulling them open where sure enough, a hex bag was stuffed between the pipes. I sighed, pulling it free and placing it into my pocket.

“Would anyone want to?" Sam was asking as I returned to the room. Mr. Dutton was standing now, looking horrified.

"What?! No, no, there's just no one that could've—" He paused, looking off into space again in thought.

Dean raised his eyebrows at us before waving a hand in front of his face. "Mr. Dutton?"

Whatever trance Mr. Dutton was in, he seemed to snap out of it quickly. He blinked twice, looking back at us. "Uh, everyone loved Janet."

Yeah, totally not weird and suspicious at all. Sam nodded once. "Okay. Thank you very much; I think we've got everything we need. We'll get out of your way now."

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

Sam, Dean and I stepped out onto the wet porch of Mr. Dutton’s house. "That dude seem a little evasive to you?" Dean asked.

"I don't know I was under a sink, pulling this out,” I said, tossing it to Sam who caught it before it could drop to the ground. "Hex bag."

"Awww gross,” Dean groaned as Sam opened it up in his palm.

"Yeah, there are bird bones, rabbit's teeth. This cloth is probably cut from something Janet Dutton owned."

Dean shivered at the thought as we kept walking. Sam looked over to me. "So we're thinking witch?"

"Uh, yeah, and not some new age wicked water douser either. This is Old World black magic, I mean, warts and all,” I said as we slid into the car, the rain coming down harder now.

There was a beat of silence in the car before Dean turned in his seat toward us. "I hate witches." Sam and I chuckled at the rant we knew Dean was about to go on, the same one he always went on when we dealt with witches. "They're always spewing their bodily fluids everywhere. It's creepy, you know, it's down right unsanitary."

"Yeah, well someone definitely had it out for Janet Dutton."

"Yeah, someone who snuck into that house and planted the bag,” Dean said, glancing up at the home. “So what are we thinking, we're uh, looking for some old craggy Blair bitch in the woods."

I shook my head, "No it could be anyone. Neighbor, coworker, man, woman—that's the problem, they're human, they're like everyone else."

"Great,” Dean exasperated. “How do we find 'em?"

I thought about it, the brutal way in which Janet died: choking on her own blood after all of her teeth fell out, seemingly out of nowhere. "This wasn't random; someone in Janet Dutton's life had an ugly axe to grind. We find the motive—"

"We find the murderer,” Sam finished. Dean nodded once before peeling away from the curb.

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I sighed, tapping my fingertips against the door with my chin in my hand, people watching the patrons walk in and out of the pub just across from our stakeout spot. “I’m telling you guys, give me five minutes in that bar to hustle some pool money-”

“El, we’re working,” Sam reprimanded. I looked over Dean’s shoulder toward Mr. Dutton’s car that we’ve been tailing for the past four hours. He was parked in an empty lot after we’d just followed him through a drive thru.

“Yeah, and it’s thrilling,” I said sarcastically as I let out a puff of air, crossing my arms over my chest. “I don’t think anything’s going on here, you guys.”

“Wait,” Sam shushed me and just seconds later, Mr. Dutton’s car flew open as he fell to the ground. Dean immediately put the car into drive, barreling across the two lane road and skidded to a stop just inches from Mr. Dutton who was kneeling on the ground, gasping for air.

"Check the car!" Dean shouted to Sam and I. Sam ran toward the driver’s seat as I pulled open the back, reaching shoulder-deep under the seats, my hands searching blindly.

"Hurry up!" Dean called from behind us where he was kneeled beside Mr. Dutton who was trying to cough but couldn't, his wheezes for air becoming more and more desperate.

"Got it!" Sam suddenly shouted, holding the hex bag up. He grabbed his lighter, catching the hex bag ablaze before dropping it to the road.

"Come on.” Dean lifted Mr. Dutton off the ground as he grasped his chest, finally able to breathe again. "You okay?"

Mr. Dutton looked at us with wild eyes. "What the hell is happening to me?!"

"Someone murdered your wife and now they're trying to kill you, that's what's happening to you,” Sam said.

"That's impossible! There's no way—"

"If we hadn't have been following you, you'd be a doornail right now. Now who wants you dead?" Dean demanded.

Mr. Dutton looked at us as if we were crazy but wracked his brain for an answer, "I-uh..."

"Come on think."

"There's a woman—uh—"

"A woman, okay?"

"An affair—a mistake, she was un-balanced, she was blackmailing me and I put an end to it a week ago."

I raised my eyebrows at this. An affair would make sense, why this woman would want Janet dead. "What's her name?"

Mr. Dutton looked at me, confused, "Wha–what could she have to do with—?"

"Paul! What is her name?"

Mr. Dutton paused, watching us. “Amanda...Amanda Burns.”

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Paul Dutton cracked pretty fast when it came to giving us Amanda’s address. I quietly picked the lock of the front door, leading the way into the dimly lit house. I entered the living room first, keeping my gun held high as I rounded the corner where a brunette woman in a black dress laid face down over a glass coffee table. I tilted my head at the blood pooled beneath her. "That's a curveball."

"Yeah."

Dean approached her, using his gun to rotate her wrists to the side as he confirmed what I’d suspected: "Three per wrist, vertical. She wasn't foolin' around."

Sam held a hand over his nose and mouth as he lowered himself to the floor beside the table. I followed his line of sight to a knocked over spell book and a plate of rotting food, maggots crawling in and out of it. There was a board with a sigil painted across the front, a knife, and a denim shirt beneath it all that I assumed was Paul Dutton’s. "Yeah, looks like she was working some heavyweight evil here."

"Oh god!” Dean shouted suddenly. I drew my gun towards Dean who’s eyes were wide, staring at the rabbit suspended by his feet from the ceiling behind him. I sighed, dropping my gun. “Fuckin' witches! Seriously man, come on!"

"Guess we know where she got the rabbit's teeth from,” Sam said. The rabbit was long since dead, its once-white fur now matted with dark blood.

"Well, Paul sure knows how to pick 'em huh? It's like Fatal Attraction all over again,” Dean said, looking back at the rabbit, his face falling. “And why does the rabbit always get screwed in the deal?! Poor little guy."

"You know what I don't get?” Sam said, making Dean and I look to him. “If she was so bent on revenge, why do this?"

I shrugged, "Well, she got Janet Dutton, thought she finished off Paul, decided to cap herself and make it a spurned lover's hat-trick...I mean, this doesn't exactly look like the TV room of a bright and stable person, you know?"

Sam kneeled down to the floor, inspecting beneath the coffee table. "No, but then...there's this.” Sam stood, throwing me a small object, wrapped in brown leather.

"Another hex bag? Come on!" Dean groaned, shaking his head. "Looks like we got a hit, huh? A little witch-on-witch violence?"

"I guess,” I said, tossing the hex bag onto the coffee table.

Dean pulled out his phone, dialing 911. "Hi, I'd like to report a dead body...309 Mayfair Circle...My name? Yeah, sure my name is—” Dean cut himself off, snapping his phone shut. “Why are witches ganking each other?"

Sam sighed, "I don't know, but I think maybe we got a coven on our hands."

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"You must have a green thumb,” Sam said as we approached Elizabeth’s house where she was out in her garden, digging in the dirt. This was our first suspect, someone Amanda had been friends with for years.

“Excuse me?” She said, looking up at us.

“Getting these herbs to grow out of season like this, quite impressive,” Sam said before stopping. “I'm sorry, I should have introduced myself first. I'm Detective Bachman, this is Detective Turner and Detective Thornton.” He motioned to each of us as we flashed her our fake badges.

“Hi-ya,” Dean smirked.

“We're following up on Amanda Burns' death, going around the neighborhood and talking to neighbors, stuff like that,” I said.

Amanda stood, watching us in what I believed to be feigned confusion, “But didn't she— I mean...she...killed herself...right?”

“Maybe, maybe,” Sam said, vaguely. “We heard you were friends with the deceased right?”

Elizabeth shrugged, obviously anxious at the questioning. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Did you have any idea about her practices?”

She furrowed her eyebrows at my question. “I'm sorry, what kind of practices?”

“Well see, her house was littered with Satanic paraphernalia.”

“A regular Black Sabbath,” Dean added.

“No, the— but she was an Episcopalian.”

“Well, then we're pretty sure she was using the wrong Bible,” Dean chuckled.

“Elizabeth, you alright?” A voice asked from behind us. We turned, two women coming up the driveway. They rounded us as they stood on either side of Elizabeth.

“I'm fine...Renee, these are detectives,” Elizabeth hesitated. “They say Amanda was— she was practicing-”

“I'm sorry detectives; you can tell that Elizabeth is a little bit upset,” the blonde woman said, running a soothing hand down Elizabeth’s arm.

I narrowed my eyes at them. Something was definitely fishy about these three. “Of course, Miss…?”

“Mrs. Renee. Van. Allen,” she said, punctuating each part of her name. “Would you like me to spell it for you?”

I raised my eyebrows at her, biting my tongue. “I'll get by, thanks.”

“This Amanda business has been hard for Liz,” Mrs. Renee Van Allen said. She tightened the grip she had on Elizabeth’s arm. “For all of us.”

Elizabeth seemed frightened to even speak for herself as the other brunette woman spoke up this time, “Yeah. I mean, you think you know a person.”

“Well, I guess we all have secrets don't we?” Dean said. I could tell him and Sam both had their suspicious about them, too.

“Well, thanks,” Sam said, maintaining intense eye contact with Elizabeth that she couldn’t return. “We'll be in touch.”

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Dean’s POV

After leaving Ellie at the motel to research more into what we didn’t already know about witches, Sam and I went out to see if we could find anything else on these women. It was nearly pitch black as we made our way back.

“Well, I'm already sold on that Elizabeth chick. Did you see that victory garden of hers?” I said as I drove. “Belladonna, wolfsbane, mandrake, not to mention that little flinch she threw when we mentioned the occult.”

“Well, she's definitely had a good run lately, gone up a few tax brackets; won almost too many raffles. Kinda thing a little black magic always helps with,” Sam said as he read through the local paper and other files we were able to scrounge up. “I don't think she's alone either. I looked into 'Mrs. Renee Van Allen'. She’s won almost every craft contest she has entered in the past three months.”

“Yeah, a regular Martha Stewart, huh? Except for the devil worship, I'm thinking that was the coven we met back there, minus one member,” I said, shaking my head. “Amanda was clearly going off the reservation. What do you think, they killed her to keep up appearances?”

“Seems like an appearance kind of crowd, don't you think?” Sam said.

“Yeah...if they killed the nut-job, should we uh, thank them or what?”

“They're working black magic too, Dean. They need to be stopped,” Sam said, folding up the paper.

I paused, glancing over to him as I suddenly remembered mine and Ellie’s conversation. “'Stopped' like stopped?” Sam shot me a look saying he was serious. It was never like him to think that way. “They're human, Sam.”

“They're murderers,” he corrected.

Pushing aside how out of character it was for Sam, it seemed justified to me. I looked back to the road, satisfied. “Burn witch, burn.”

Then, the car began to rattle and sputter. I looked down, confused, as I took my hands off the wheel. “What the hell?”

The headlights began to flicker. One second, they were off, and we were drowning in darkness and the next second they turned back on, there was a figure, illuminated in the golden light. The car rolled to a stop right in front of a woman, her arms crossed over her chest. I felt for the Colt in my jacket, gripping it by its hilt. We stood from the car, the woman unmoving.

“Ruby?” Sam said in confusion. I raised my eyebrows, looking back at her.

“Sam, listen to me, there's no time,” Ruby urged.

"For what? What are you talking about?"

"You have to get out of town."

"So this is Ruby, huh? Never had the pleasure,” I said, bringing the Colt out and aiming it at her.

"Dean!"

"I was hoping you'd show up again."

Ruby only watched me, unfazed. "Point that thing somewhere else."

"Hahahaha! Right,” I said sarcastically.

She sighed, looking back to Sam, "Sam, please. Go. Get in the car and don't look back."

"Why? I don't understand."

"Hey, hot stuff, we can take care of a few kitchen witches, thanks,” I said, making Ruby roll her eyes as she turned her attention back to me.

"I'm not talking about witches, you jackass. Witches are whores,” she spat. “I'm talking about who they serve."

I furrowed my eyebrows, looking to Sam for answers when his face fell. "Demons. They get their power from demons."

"Yeah. And there's one here, now."

I scoffed, "Oh, what, you mean besides you?"

"Sam, it knows you're in town and it's gonna come after you and it’s way more than you can handle."

I looked to Sam who suddenly seemed worried. I widened my eyes. "Oh come on, what is this, huh? Please tell me you're not listening to this crap!"

"Put a leash on your brother, Sam, if you wanna keep him."

"Dean, look, just chill out."

"No...no! She's messing with your head, god knows why, that's who they are!" I shouted, waving the gun in her direction. I was not going to let Sam make me feel like the crazy one.

"I'm telling you the truth,” Ruby interfered.

"And I'm telling you to shut up, bitch."

"I'm sorry, why are you even a part of this conversation?!" She yelled, stepping closer.

"Oh, I don't know maybe because he's my brother, you black-eyed skank!"

"Oh, right, right. You care about your brother so much. That's why you're checking out in a few months, leaving him all alone?"

My heart sank, praying Sam hadn’t heard her, but in my peripherals I could see Sam whip his head toward me. I tightened my hand on the gun. "Shut up."

Ruby knew she hit right where it hurt. She leaned forward, only inches from the gun now. "At least let me try and save him, since you won't be here to do it any more."

"I said shut up!"

I brought my finger back on the trigger, but Sam was faster as he bent my arm upwards, shooting a round into the sky. I opened my eyes, looking around, but Ruby was nowhere to be found.

“Damn it!” I shouted, shaking my head, turning away from Sam. I could feel his eyes on me.

“What did she mean, Dean?” He nearly whispered.

I ran a hand down my face before turning to him, acting like I hadn’t heard him when in reality I was buying myself time to think of an excuse. I didn’t want him to find out like this. I didn’t want them to find out at all, not until I was already gone. “What?”

Sam took a step closer. He was angry. “What did she mean...when she said you were checking out- what did she mean!?”

“Sam, c’mon, I have no idea!” I lied through my teeth.

Sam’s face shifted into realization. “What did you do, Dean?”

I couldn’t meet his eyes. Guilt corroded my insides. Guilt because I’d been lying to them, guilt because I know what I was going to put them through would kill them. I scoffed, shaking my head. “Sam...”

“You took her deal, didn’t you?”

I slowly looked back to him, fear clouding over his face. There was no use in lying to him anymore. I’d done that too much already. “I couldn’t let her go, Sam...” Sam’s shoulders fell in defeat and shock. “You said it yourself...we couldn’t let her go.”

“I didn’t mean take her place, Dean!” He shouted, his breath coming out in smoke against the cold air. I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say a thing. “So...what, now we have to lose you? Our plan this whole time was to come up with something so none of us would die! Did you forget that part!?”

“I didn’t have a choice!” I shouted back. “It was me, or her and if not one of us it was you, Sam! There was no way out of it so I...” I stopped myself, lowering my voice. “I had to do it. I have to protect you two.”

Sam shook his head, tears brimming his eyes. “Does Ellie know?”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat before shaking my head. Sam nodded once, looking away from me. “She can’t know, Sam. She can’t.”

“You can’t ask me to do that.”

“Well, I am,” I said. His eyes flicked to mine. “You have to promise me. You won’t tell her. Promise me that, Sam. Please.” He clenched his jaw, walking back toward the car before slipping inside. I looked up at the dark sky, wishing Hell would open its flaming mouth and just pull me under now.

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

Ellie’s POV

The silence in the motel room was almost serene. I plopped myself onto the motel bed, a cloud of stale stench floating into the air from the ancient comforter. After nearly six hours of research on witches, my hand was cramping and my ass was sore from the motel’s hard wooden chairs. I stretched my legs out, clicking the small TV set on just as the door flew open, Sam and Dean arguing loudly.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Sam said as he came in behind Dean, slamming the door. I rolled my head backwards onto the wall, annoyed, switching the TV back off.

"What?! What the hell was I thinking?" Dean shot back, yanking his jacket off his shoulders and throwing it roughly onto his bed. "She's a demon, Sam. Period. Alright? They want us dead, we want them dead!”

“What happened?” I asked, watching as they moved across the room in a flurry, Sam hot on Dean’s trail.

They ignored me as they continued to go at each other. "Oh, that's funny; I remember that demon chick in Ohio, Casey? You didn't want her dead."

"Yeah, well she wasn't stringing me along like a fish on a hook."

"No one's stringing me along! Look, I know it's dangerous, that she is dangerous, but like it or not, she's useful."

"No! We kill her before she kills us."

"Kill her with what? The gun she fixed for us?"

"Whatever works."

I closed my eyes, absentmindedly rubbing at the side of my abdomen, chocking the dull pain up to the two day old takeout I’d eaten out of desperation.

"Dean, if she wants us dead, all she has to do is stop saving our lives,” Sam retorted, making Dean roll his eyes as he went to the bathroom, splashing water on his face. “Look, we have to start looking at the big picture Dean, start thinking in strategies and – and moves ahead. It's not so simple, we're not – we're not just hunting anymore...we're at war."

I peeked an eye out, glancing at them in the momentary silence. “Are you guys done-”

"Are you feeling okay?" Dean interrupted, making Sam shake his head as he sat on the end of our bed.

"Why are you always asking me that?"

"Because you're taking advice from a demon, for starters. And by the way, you seem less and less worried about offing people. You know, it used to eat you up inside."

"Yeah, and what has that gotten me?"

My eyes bounced between the two of them, rubbing rhythmic circles over my stomach. I was still trying to figure out what the hell had happened while they were gone.

"Nothing, but it's just what you're supposed to do, okay? We're supposed to drive in the fuckin' car and fuckin' argue about this stuff. You know, you go on about the sanctity of life and all that shit."

The pain in my stomach began to grow more intense. I sat up further on the bed, hoping my position would relieve some of the pressure, to no avail. I pushed my palm against it, wincing.

"Wait, so– so you're mad because I'm starting to agree with you?" Sam asked, looking up at Dean who was tossing the contents of his pocket onto the table.

"No, I'm not mad, I'm— I'm— I'm worried, Sam— I'm worried because you're not acting like yourself.”

"Yeah, you're right, I'm not. I don't have a choice."

Dean narrowed his eyes at him, stopping his movement. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"Look, Dean...things are changing. And the way I see it, if I'm gonna make it, if I'm gonna fight this war after...” Sam paused, him and Dean sharing a strange look. A silent conversation that I couldn’t quite place. “Then I gotta change."

"Change into what?"

"Into you,” Sam said after a beat of silence passed. “I gotta be more like you."

I sat up further on the bed, holding my side as I leaned forward, my face contorting in pain. Dean looked over at me as if he’d just noticed I was there. "What's going on with you?"

"I don't know,” I groaned as the pain quickly grew sharper until I gasped, feeling like I was being stabbed from the inside. “Something's wrong—"

"Ellie?" Sam said quickly, rounding the bed and kneeling in front of me. He gripped my shoulder.

"Son of a bitch—" I groaned, wrapping my arms around my midsection.

"Ellie, hey,” Dean said this time.

When I opened my eyes they were both in front of me, watching me worriedly. I panted, the pain just becoming more and more intense as I thought of the only solution I could come up with: "The coven...it's gotta be the coven."

I reached a hand out toward anyone and anything, grasping for air before finding Sam’s jacket, twisting it in my hand before they quickly pushed off the floor, turning the room upside down for the hex bag that had to be in here somewhere.

Sweat began to bead down my body as the sound of cabinets opening and closing filled the room, chairs being overturned, and our things being dumped from our duffle bags. I coughed, leaning forward as I felt something climbing up my throat. I dropped to the floor between the two beds, gagging as blood spurted from my mouth and down onto the linoleum floors. I quickly got onto my hands and knees, trying to clear my airways before my arms collapsed under me, sending me sprawling to the floor.

I didn’t have enough energy to pull myself up. I watched Sam above me as he threw the blankets off the bed and dug his knife into the mattresses, calling to Dean, “Did you find it!?”

"No,” Dean said as he came beside me, rolling me onto my side. "Sam, what are you doing?"

I opened an eye between fits of coughing up blood to where Sam was counting the bullets in the Colt, not saying a word to either of us. He threw the motel door open and all we could hear was the Impala’s engine roar to life.

"Sam!” Dean called after him, but once we could no longer hear the car he turned back, cursing Sam under his breath. “It’ll be okay. It’s okay.”

Blood continued to poor from my mouth and onto the floor, the pain only becoming more unbearable by the second.

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

Sam’s POV

I made it back to Elizabeth’s house in nearly half the time it should’ve taken me. I kicked down the front door, barging in, gun drawn at the coven standing around a seance table in the middle of the living room. They let out shrieks of surprised as they quickly stood with their hands in the air.

"Let her go." I couldn’t waste a second. I knew Ellie wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer.

"Let who go? What are you doing?” Renee asked, obviously startled. “You're insane, get out!"

"Look, if you know about me, then you know about this gun. You're killing my sister. Now let her go,” I warned. “Get away from the altar."

"What?"

"Now!"

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

Ellie’s POV

I sat hunched over on all fours as Dean sat beside me, unsure of what to do except pray that Sam was doing something useful. Then, the motel door was kicked inward. Dean and I whipped our heads toward the door where a woman with long blonde hair sauntered in.

“Ruby?” Dean questioned.

"Ahh, you’re Ruby? You wanna kill me? Get in line bitch,” I groaned, blood smeared across my face. Ruby came deeper into the room, making Dean stand in front of me.

“Get back, Ruby.” “You want me to save her sorry ass or not?”

Dean looked back down at me as I spit a wad of blood onto the floor. Suddenly, I was being lifted up by my shirt and thrown onto the bed. I kicked her away from me before she pinning my arms down with her knees and poured black liquid into my mouth. I gasped around it, but I instantly began to feel better. Dean yelled something at her, making her climb off of me. I sat up, the excess liquid spilling down my chest. I looked to Dean, and then her in confusion.

Ruby was panting, glaring at me. “Don’t...call me bitch."

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

Sam’s POV

"Go,” I demanded, the three women filing into a line with their hands still raised in surrender.

"What— we— we weren't hurting anyone,” Elizabeth stammered.

"Please, we don't even know your sister!” Renee tried to convince me, but it wasn’t going to work.

"Stop the spell, or die,” I said firmly. “Five seconds."

"What?” Renee gasped.

I cocked the gun. "Four."

"No, please, please don't kill us!” Elizabeth begged. "We were just getting Renee a lower mortgage rate!"

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

Ellie’s POV

"Next time you point that gun at me, I'm not gonna just disappear, understand?" Ruby said to Dean.

"You...saved my life,” I said, confused as I sat on the end of the bed.

"Don't mention it."

"What was that stuff, anyway?” Dean asked.

“God, it was ass,” I shivered and then thought about it. “It tasted like ass."

"It's called witchcraft, short bus.” Ruby turned, leaving the motel through the broken door.

"You're the short bus...” Dean called after her but Ruby didn’t turn back. Dean’s voice immediately grew quieter at his comeback. “Short bus."

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

Sam’s POV

The women weren’t giving me much to work with and I was pretty sure Ellie that if Ellie weren’t dead already, she would be soon. I gripped the gun, trying to clear my head as I analyzed the women, recalling what I knew about them.

"Okay, maybe it's not you,” I said, beginning at the front of the line with Elizabeth. I trailed the gun to Renee next, “—or you.” That left me with one option: Tammi Benton. The one out of the group we hadn’t been able to dig up much on. I cocked an eyebrow. “Maybe it's you."

Tammi’s eyes widened as Elizabeth and Renee looked to her in fear. "I don't even know what he's talking about. What are you even talking about?!"

"I mean, all of you, everyone in your little coven, you've all had runs of good fortune. Newsworthy good fortune. Except for you, Tammi,” I said, the pieces suddenly clicking together. I stepped toward her. “Now tell me, why is that? You didn't want anything for yourself? Or is it because you're already getting what you wanted – like these women's souls."

Elizabeth and Renee’s eyes grew wider at my words. Tammi continued to stumble, "I can't- I-I'm not- I-I-I don't..." Then, she stopped. Her facial expression changed as she let her hands drop to her sides, her eyes turning pitch black. "Nice dick work, Magnum."

I brought the gun up to her, gripping it with both hands. "Let. My sister. Go."

"What's wrong? Couldn't find my hex bag? Sorry, sweetheart, but your sister’s lungs should be on the floor by now."

I ground my teeth as I lightly pulled back against the trigger and released a bullet from the Colt, but before it could reach her, the demon brought her hand up, stopping it in mid air. I watched in shock as it fell to the floor with a clank. The demon smiled. "You're in a lot of trouble, Sam."

With that, she brought her hand up, sending me flying across the room and pinning me to the far wall. I groaned at the impact, watching in horror as Elizabeth and Renee turned to who they thought was their friend.

"Tammi, what's wrong with your eyes?" Elizabeth asked.

"Tammi, what are you doing?" Renee gasped.

"Renee, shut your painted hole,” the demon snapped.

"What?” Renee said in disbelief. “I- I will— you can't— not in my house, Tammi Benton-" The demon snapped Renee’s neck then, making her instantly fall to the floor in a heap. Elizabeth slapped her hands over her mouth, muffling her screams of terror.

"Look. You got me – let the girl go,” I tried to reason.

"Wait your turn, young man,” the demon hissed and turned back to Elizabeth who was shaking uncontrollably. “Shhh...Lizzie. It’s okay.”

"You're not Tammi,” Elizabeth breathed out.

The demon had her hand running through Elizabeth’s curls. "No, but I'm wearing her meat. I had to break the ice with you girls somehow."

Her eyes were brimmed with tears. "You killed Renee."

"Renee, Amanda...” the demon listed, circling the room like a caged tiger. “That's what happens to witches who get voted off the island."

"Who are you?"

The demon chuckled. "Funny story, actually. You remember all those dark demonic forces you prayed to, when you swore your servitude? Just who did you think you were praying to?"

"This- this isn't – it can't b—"

"What did you think it was? Make-believe? Positive thinking? The Secret? No, it was me. You sold yourself to me, you pig." Elizabeth’s hands were clutched close to her chest as tears silently fell down her cheeks. "All I had to do was bring one good book to book club, and you ladies lined up to kiss my ass."

Elizabeth began furiously shaking her head. "No, no, we didn't know—"

"Oh, yes you did. You knew every step of the way, and now your ever living souls are mine,” the demon smiled. "Comments? Questions?” Elizabeth continued to stare at her silently, frozen in fear before the demon turned to me. “Hmm, Sammy Winchester, wow! Right here in our little town. You know, my friends and I, we've been looking for you."

"Why?” I said before scoffing, rolling my eyes. “Oh, right, 'cause I'm supposed to lead some piss-poor demon army."

"No, not at all. You're not our Messiah. We don't believe in you...But, there's a new leader rising in the West – a real leader,” she said, coming closer. I furrowed my eyebrows at her words. “That's the horse to bet on, Sam, the one who's gonna tear this world apart. Thing is, this demon? It doesn't like you very much. It doesn't want the competition." I watched as the demon raised her hand and I slowly began to slide up the wall, the pressure against my chest becoming heavier and heavier. I grimaced, clenching my fists. "Nothing personal, it's a P.R. thing, so, buh-bye."

The demon pressed her hand forward until it felt like my chest was going to collapse in on itself. The wall behind me began to crack, plaster and drywall falling to the floor below me. I shut my eyes tightly, waiting for the impact when the front door flew open, Dean and Ellie running through, guns blazing. I let out a breath of relief at the sight of them.

Then, demon simply flicked her other hand, sending the two of them flying to two separate walls. From this angle, we could all see each other. They winced at the impact. I looked to Ellie, wondering how the hell she was even alive.

"Three for one. Lovely."

Then, there was another set of footsteps coming into the house. The demon turned to Ruby who followed behind, her hands raised. "Wait. Please. I just...came to talk."

She turned toward Ruby, looking surprised. "You made it out of the gate. Impressive. That was a bitch of a fight, wasn't it?"

"Doors out of Hell only open for so long."

"What do you want, Ruby?"

Ruby stepped closer to her. "I've been lost without you. Take me back. That's why I led the Winchesters here.”

I glanced to Dean and Ellie, feeling guilty. Dean was shaking his head, mouthing: I told you so!

“They're for you...as a gift,” Ruby said, the demon looking between her and us.

"Really?"

"Let me serve you again. I've wanted it – I've wanted you – for so long,” she whispered, making Dean’s eyebrows shoot upward.

"You were one of my best,” the demon whispered back. Ruby smiled sweetly before quickly bringing a knife up and over the demon’s head, but the demon grabbed the blade before it made impact. "But then again, you always were a lying whore."

The demon tossed the blade across the room, making it slide across the floor and stopping in front of the alter. Ruby began throwing punches at the demon’s face, grabbing her shoulders and kneeing her in the stomach. Then, the demon grabbed Ruby’s arms where they were holding her jacket, using them as leverage to slam her forehead into Ruby’s nose. The resounding crunch of cartilage filled the room. Dean, Ellie and I flinched as blood began pouring down Ruby’s face, but she kept fighting, blindly swinging her fists but the demon had the upper hand. She grabbed Ruby, punching her twice over her face before kicking her backwards into the TV, electrical sparks flying upwards.

The demon gave Ruby enough time to roll off of the shattered TV before knocking her to the floor again. Ruby panted, blood coating her face. The demon grabbed her by her jacket, lifted her easily and tossed her across the room into a bookshelf. Ruby went sprawling backwards, the shelf breaking in half as Ruby just laid there, no fight left in her. The demon sauntered toward the fireplace where Elizabeth was backed up against. She grabbed a fire poker, smirking at Elizabeth before turning back to Ruby. "You're really telling me you threw in your chips with the Three Stooges here?"

Ruby struggled to sit up as the demon swung the fire poker, striking her across the face, sending her falling back down. "Come on. Get up." The demon demanded, but Ruby stayed down. There was movement behind the demon then. My eyes flicked to Elizabeth who quietly ran to the alter on the other side of the room, pouring out a bowl of sewing needles. "I said, get up!"

Fed up, the demon threw the poker to the side and kneeled over Ruby, pulling her up by her jacket. "We've been here before, haven't we?" The demon looked over at us. "She didn't tell you? Pretty mortifying, I guess. She was one of mine. I turned her out a long, long time ago.” Ruby’s head started going limp. I watched the color drain from her face but the demon held it up to look into her eyes. “Ruby here was a witch. Of course, that was when you were human. Didn't want your friends to know that all those centuries back, you sold yourself to me? Embarrassing, I guess. But don't worry love, no secrets where you're heading remember?"

Ruby stared back at her as the demon threw her back onto the debris. The demon stood over her, reciting an exorcism. Ruby clenched her fists as the black smoke began to escape her mouth. Dean, Ellie and I trying desperately to peel ourselves off the walls but it was no use. The demon continued the incantation before she suddenly stopped, bringing her hand to her mouth as she violently began coughing.

I looked to the back of the living room where Elizabeth was sitting behind the alter, her eyes closed as she chanted something quietly that I couldn’t quite make out. We watched as the black smoke returned to Ruby’s body, but the demon continued coughing harder and harder, trying to catch her breath. Each cough made the grip she had on us looser until we each fell to the floor.

I groaned, turning to look back at the demon as she pulled her hand away from her mouth, her palm filled with dark blood and three long sewing needles. Her lips were stained crimson as she looked up, realizing what’d happened to her. She brought up her other hand, clasping it into a fist. Elizabeth’s chanting immediately stopped as she grasped her chest, gasping for air before limply falling forward onto the alter. Then, seemingly from out of nowhere, Dean came up from behind the demon, holding her firmly to his chest as he stabbed her over and over again in her side with Ruby’s knife. The demon’s face was contorted into pain as she flickered orange before dropping dead to the floor.

Ellie stood, rubbing the back of her head where she’d collided with the wall, inspecting the damage inside the house. Dean came around, helping me off the ground. We came to a stop in front of the demon who laid with her mouth wide open, her hand still curled into a tight fist. Ruby stood, wiping the blood from her nose. "Go. I'll clean up this mess."

"Come on,” Dean said, laying a hand on mine and Ellie’s shoulders, leading us to the door when I stopped, looking back over my shoulder to Ruby.

Her eyes clicked to black threateningly. "I said, go."

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

Dean's POV

I was outside of the motel room, throwing our weapons into the arsenal in the trunk when the fluorescent lights outside began flickering wildly. I paused, a low humming filling the parking lot. I looked from my left to my right, trying to prepare myself for whatever the hell was about to show up. I reached around behind me for the Colt. I checked my surroundings again when I spotted Ruby a few feet away form me, her arms crossed.

I let out a small breath of relief as the lights stopped flickering. I let go of the gun. "So the devil may care after all, is that what I'm supposed to believe?"

"I don't believe in the devil.”

I raised my eyebrows as I shook my head, shutting and locking the arsenal. "Wacky night...So let me get this straight, you were human once, you died, you went to hell, you became uh-"

"Yeah,” she said simply as she turned and started walking away.

"How long ago?"

"Back when the plague was big."

I paused, really thinking about what she was telling me. "So all of 'em – every damn demon – they were all human once?"

Ruby turned back to me, "Every one I've ever met."

"Well, they sure don't act like it."

"Most of them have forgotten what it means, or even that they were. That's what happens when you go to Hell, Dean. That's what Hell is: forgetting what you are."

"Philosophy lesson from a demon. I'll pass, thanks."

She narrowed her eyes at me. "It's not philosophy. It's not a metaphor. There's a real fire in the pit. Agonies you can't even imagine."

I shrugged, "No, I saw 'Hellraiser'. I get the gist."

Ruby ran her tongue over her teeth as she rolled her eyes. "Actually, they got that pretty close. Except for all the custom leather...The answer is yes, by the way."

"I'm sorry?"

"Yes, the same thing will happen to you. It might take centuries, but sooner or later Hell will burn away your humanity,” she said. I felt my stomach flip, watching her to try to see if she were serious or not. “Every Hell-bound soul, every one, turns into something else. Turns you into us. So yeah. Yeah, you can count on it."

I could tell she wasn’t bluffing. I swallowed roughly, realizing now just how bad this was going to get. "There's no way of saving me from the pit, is there?"

"No,” she said simply and for once, I didn’t question her. “I was surprised you'd made it this far, saving Ellie and all. That was smart, what you did."

"Then why'd you tell Sam that you could save her?"

"So he would talk to me. You Winchesters can be pretty bigoted. I needed something to help him get past the–"

"The demon thing? It's pretty hard to get past."

"Look at you. Trying to be all stoic,” she cooed before clicking her tongue. “My god, it's heartbreaking."

I set my jaw, watching her. "Why are you telling me all this?"

"I need your help."

I wasn’t expecting that. "Help with what?"

"With Sam and Ellie. The way you stuck that demon tonight – it was pretty tough. Ellie’s almost there, but Sam...not quite. You need to help me get them ready – for life without you. To fight this war on their own." She turned, walking away from me again.

"Ruby!” I called after her, making her stop. “Why do you want us to win?"

She turned. "Isn't it obvious? I'm not like them. I don't know why. I– I wish I was, but...I'm not. I remember what it's like."

"What what's like?"

"Being human." I held her eyes for only a second longer before dropping them and when I looked back up, she was gone.

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

FOREVER TAG LIST

@spnbaby-67 / @luciferslucille / @anti-social-club / @search-bar / @mellorine-paprika / @thepocketshoelace / @jaremish / @the-salty-asian / @robynannemackenzie-blog / @mersuperwholocked-lowlife / @caswinchester2000 / @damnedimpala / @lauren-novak / @adeanmon / @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce / @defenderrosetyler / @resanoona / @nyotamalfoy / @ykta-m

EPISODE REWRITE TAG LIST

@strangedeerconnoisseur / @artemisandromedaathena-blog / @elite4cekalyma / @dragon-master-kai / @bxrbiewrites

WINCHESTER SISTER TAG LIST

@bunnyandy12 / @breereadsthings / @slytherinrising / @stressedoutkitten / @dragon-master-kai

*DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN SUPERNATURAL OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS.

31 notes · View notes

stranger-nightmare · 2 years ago

Note

To people finding Josephs socials. His Instagram and tiktok are run by his friend. Not joe himself. He’s said that himself.

But to the person who found his Spotify and decided to just put it all on tiktok. and made him privet all his playlists and change his username. Hey how about next time we don’t do that. Because some actors are very privet about that for a reason.

I knew of an actor who made playlists for every one of his characters and he refused to share them with people because if he did it would take him out of the head space the playlist helped him get into, to ya know be the character he was playing.

Some actors just like being privet about things. And, playlists for getting into character aren’t really meant for everyone to see. I know it seems stupid but as someone who makes playlists the same way just for myself I would be super upset if people I didn’t want seeing them just blasted them all over tiktok.

Also can the people who apparently found his email chill the fuck out and not do that to people. I heard some were trying to find his address and you can love an actor or a character they play. But for god sake leave the actual human being alone.

Joes a privet person, he has zero socials beyond what his friends run aka Instagram and tiktok. And obviously theirs a reason for that because some people yes even actors, are very privet people. So hey let’s not be fucking gross and try and find their homes or family’s socials okay? Okay.

I just this comes from someone who used to have extremely unhealthy parasocial relationships with celebrities I enjoyed. It’s hard to unlearn those behaviors but after you do, it becomes clear how invasive it can feel to try and do all these insane things to find a celebrities entire life so to speak.

Just kids, teens, adults alike. Relax, stop it, and imagine how you would feel if someone was doing this to you.

Sorry let me step off my rant soap box.

-🎸😈

yeah I’m just so sad this happened to him honestly, like obviously I want him to know how loved he is by us but yeah all this nonsense that went down isn’t love and respect, it's just ridiculous

-hope

#the answer to your nightmare #🎸😈 anon #joseph quinn

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fictive-fodder · 2 years ago

Note

☕ WELL, totally complete stranger, I come off as shy or aloof to a lot of people when I first meet them, and it takes sometime for me to warm up and step out of my shell. I love writing, reading, cooking, baking, really any art form that leaves me with a physical end product (sculpture, basket weaving, etc.). I feel like I have a wide variety of interests due to finding just… a lot interesting. I’m willing to sit down and learn about pretty much anything, and particularly if it’s video essay format. I love analysis, both doing it and engaging with it as a viewer. Related to that, despite being an emotions person, I’m fairly analytical when it comes to engaging with myself and the world. Was very much an armchair psychologist at one point (not to say I’ve entirely unlearned that). I am a VERY silly person and being goofy is something I like about myself, and something that I tend to look for in others! I can get hilariously competitive with games. I wear my heart on my sleeve but am fiercely independent so it makes it difficult to rely on others. I am very passionate about what I believe in and… have a bad habit of ranting about it or getting on a soap box lmao. I’m not sure which fandoms to pick, honestly, since I’m just generally curious. If there’s multiple or any character from your fandoms I’d loved to hear it, but fandoms I’m particularly interested in? I got Bioshock brain rot and I REALLY wanna know if you’d think I’m compatible with any of the Sailor Scouts 👀👀

I’m celebrating gaining 100 followers! Click here for the details! ◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

I ship you with Hotaru Tomoe - Sailor Saturn!

Okay. Okokokokokok just listen- you forgot to mention that you are about as kind and sweet as it gets, and Hotaru needs that. I *strongly* feel like she would see you and just absolutely become enamored by brilliance and sweetness. You would get really protective of her, I think, and everything she goes through and is responsible for. I also think you would be a lot more gracious and understanding of her needs than most people.

She's so quiet and gentle but she'd love to see you get loud and happy and vibrant. She would love to watch you laugh and do anything she could to make you silly and happy. Those memories she'd make with you would get her through her toughest moments.

I feel like Hotaru's beverage game would be on point. She'd always wake you up with warm drinks that perfectly hit the spot. You would dye your hair to match the purple of her skirt as Sailor Saturn, and she would get sooo shy and blush all over the place.

Also, Setsuna, Michiru and Haruka would basically adopt you too and absolutely adore you. Haruka would try to give Hotaru date tips and ideas that are waaaaay off and Michiru would have to step in and fix everything.

#sailor moon imagines #sailor saturn #fictive-fodder #fictive fodder

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viewmasterfeeling · 4 years ago

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oh! i almost forgot, if you have time, maybe you could write something with jonathan and el having bonding time? maybe he teaches her how to do photography? side elmax, if you don't mind. love you!! congratulations again!!- 🌹anon

I love you!!! And here you go! This was fun to write :3

Here on ao3!

Pho-tog-ra-phy

Ever since El had moved in with the Byers, she’d been mesmerized by something Jonathan did.

The “something” involved using a black box to put real things on paper. She didn’t know how, but it wasn’t magic-- El knew that Magic didn’t exist. Magic was just for games, like the “Dungeons and Dragons” Will would rant on and on about. It was interesting, but El didn’t really understand the point of just pretending to go on adventures. The Party had already experienced enough real adventures that were much cooler, so what was the point of a game?

One day, El was sitting in the living room as Jonathan took pictures of different walls in their new house. Her eyes were glued to the device (a camera?), and she tried to capture the process in her mind. Point the box to the thing, hold it steady, put your face next the box, press a button. And then, just like magic, the paper would slide out.

Jonathan must have noticed El watching, because he turned away from his work and came over to El. “You like my camera?” Camera. She nodded, eyes fixated on it.

“Stay still,” Jonathan said. El stopped moving, and Jonathan put his eye to the camera and clicked a button. Flash . A shiny little picture of El slid out of the device.

El grabbed it immediately. It was her. Exactly the position she’d been sitting in just a moment ago. It was like she was looking through someone else’s eyes and seeing the exact room she was in right now. It was mesmerizing.

“I want to learn,” El said, sure she’d never been more sure about something in her life.

Jonathan smiled. “Really? Awesome! I always try to teach Will, but he’s never really been interested.”

Right. Will seemed to like the other way of making pictures: drawing.

El and her older brother left to pick some flowers outside. Once El was satisfied with her picks, they came inside and put the flowers in a glass vase. Now it was time for the fun part.

Jonathan handed El the camera and moved her hands so that they were in the right place. Satisfied, Jonathan stepped away and began to explain.

“So, you’re gonna look through that little hole, and when you like the picture you see, press this button on top.”

El nodded. She looked into the hole and saw, surprisingly, the same flowers she picked. She changed her position, trying to get the vase perfectly in the center, and when she was satisfied, pressed the button. Click .

The machine seemed to whir in her hands, and El flinched in surprise. Out slid the picture. El grabbed it.

Woah . It was… pretty. The red, yellow, and white flowers fell perfectly in the light, making them look vibrant and beautiful.

Once she was able to pull her eyes away, El handed it to Jonathan. “Nice job!” Jonathan said, looking at it. El felt proud. I took that picture .

They went around the house, taking pictures of any objects that could be interesting. A lamp, a painting on the wall, Joyce’s shoes, a bar of soap that was a pretty shade of pink, and eventually, they were back at the table, looking through all of the photos.

“El, these are really good! You could be a photographer some day,” Jonathan said, looking proudly at the photos.

“Pho-to-gra-pher?”

“Yeah. It’s a person who does photography, which is taking pictures.”

“Pho-tog-ra-phy.” El tried out the word. It had a satisfying sound to it.

“But I’ll have to get you your own camera and film. We burned through mine real fast.” he chuckled.

“Film?”

Jonathan explained the concept of film, which wasn’t a movie, but it was something you put in cameras to take more pictures.

El felt excited, happy, and eager to learn more. She felt like she’d finally found her thing. (Mike’s was writing, Max’s was skateboarding, Will’s was drawing…) and now, El’s was photography.

She couldn’t wait to do it more.

-----

Christmas, 1985. All of the “kids” were in the Wheeler basement, and El was opening a present.

To: El, From: Jonathan

She ripped off the blue wrapping paper to reveal a shiny, white box, with a picture of a camera on it.

“I figured you’d like one of your own,” Jonathan commented.

A camera! El’s mouth opened in surprise and gratefulness. She smiled, admiring the box.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, feeling shy and thankful and excited .

Later, after some help from Jonathan to set it up, El was taking pictures of all of her friends, whether they agreed to it or not.

When she got to Max, the redhead turned away shyly. “You don’t want a picture of me,” she said, covering her chest with her arms.

“Yes, I do.” El was sure of this. She didn’t know why she was so sure, but she wanted to see Max every day, even if it was just on a piece of paper.

Max raised her eyebrows. “Okay, but can we take it, like, later? I look really bad right now.”

Wrong. Max’s face looked beautiful as it always did. Her hair framed her face like a golden picture frame, and the sweater she was wearing was perfect. “You look pretty.” So pretty that El may have finally found something she was more obsessed with than photography.

Max smiled. “Really?”

El nodded, smiling back. “Really pretty.”

Max looked at El for a moment. “If you say so.” Then, she looked at the floor. “You are too. Pretty, I mean.”

El blushed. “Oh. I mean… I am?”

Max chuckled, eyes crinkled in a smile. “Of course, silly! Now, let’s get away from these boys. We can take my picture outside.”

Max grabbed El’s hand and dragged her upstairs and to the front yard, both of them giggling. When they found a place, Max posed for a picture, then another, then another. Then, Max insisted that she take a picture of El.

“Okay, you got a picture of me. Now I want a picture of you .”

Fair. “I’ll teach you,” El said, putting the camera in Max’s hands and putting her own hands over Max’s. She taught Max how to take a picture, and after some struggling and a lot of laughing, Max got it. And they continued to take pictures of each other and pose until El’s side hurt from laughing.

Photography. El loved it.

#elmax fic #my fic #my ficlet #elmax ficlet #100 followers #🌹anon #there are some typos on ao3 #oops

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ankhlesbian · 4 years ago

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Leonie/Marianne - 5+1- 3/6

5 times Marianne and Leonie handle each others hair, and 1 time they don’t have to. (This is part 3 / 6) (part 1, part 2, or altogether on ao3).

Marianne sighed. She had wanted to go over to the stables to groom Dorte, but it was raining much heavier than she had anticipated. She drew back, biting her lip. The weather had been dreary already, and getting out of bed had taken more energy than she cared to admit, but anything was worth it for Dorte. But now… It really did seem like the goddess herself was personally sending her a message.

The bag full of brushes and ribbons and combs felt heavy on her arm. Well, it hadn’t been that long since she’d last braided Dorte’s tail and mane. It was maybe a little overzealous of her to do it again so quickly…

“Ow! Shit!”

Ah, right. Marianne was right outside the ground floor rooms. That had sounded a bit like Leonie. Marianne had never actually been to her room. Or anyone’s room, really. She had seen Mercedes leaving her room when they were both on the way to the cathedral for their daily prayers, but that was about it.

That door was Mercedes… so one of the other two must be Leonie. She took a hesitant step towards the doors. Would she really be of use? Or would she just be bothering her? She had said she was never a both, but she couldn’t always know that would be the case.

There was another burst of cursing. Whatever was going on in there, she could at least tell Leonie to go see someone who could handle it.

She knocked before she could second guess herself. There was a pregnant pause, the only noise the rain pattering down onto the wood above. Then Leonie’s door swung open. She was rubbing one ear with a cloth, and looked a bit ruffled.

“Ah, is this a bad time?”

“Marianne! Not at all! I mean, I was doing something, but I had to take a break anyways. You’re always welcome to visit.” She gestured awkwardly and stepped back from the door.

Marianne now faced the dilemma of where to sit. She felt embarrassment crawling up her neck as the seconds ticked on. This was such a silly idea.

“You can sit on the bed, it’s comfier. My desk is kind of cluttered right now.”

Leonie didn’t strike her as the kind of person to be overly messy. She carefully made her way to the bed and sat down, back hunched, hands folded in her lap, her bag nestled beside her feet on the ground.

Leonie shut the door and moved to her desk, pushing aside a pile consisting of oil, scissors, and a towel.

“I was trying to give myself a trim, but I nicked myself instead. We usually traded haircuts for haircuts back in the village, so I’m not as good at using the mirror to coordinate it. Not the wisest circumstance to wield pointy things by your ears in, I know.” She rubbed at the back of her neck, where her hair was indeed shaggier than what Marianne was used to picturing when she thought of Leonie.

“I-I hope your ear’s okay.”

Leonie grinned. “It’s definitely seen worse. I’ve had my ears boxed and wet willy’d plenty.” She settled back into her chair, seemingly satisfied with the new placement of her haircutting set-up. “What’ve you been up to today? Bit slow without any classes, huh?”

Marianne shuffled one foot, nudging the bag at her foot. “I was on my way to groom Dorte, but it looks like the goddess didn’t permit it…”

Leonie chuckled. “I guess she figured the crops needed rain more than Dorte needed brushing. She’s always the prettiest horse in the stables, you know. Ferdinand and Lorenz were both jealous when they saw her the other day. Serves them right! If they spent less time prattling on about nonsense and spent more time with their horses, maybe they’d stand a chance. You have a good eye for that kind of thing.”

“Um, Lorenz probably has a better fashion sense than I do…”

“Even if he does, he doesn’t apply it like you do!” Leonie pulled the cloth from her ear and glanced down at it. “Do you mind if I finish up with this? I don’t want to end up with hair as messy as Sylvain’s.”

Marianne looked up at that. What if Leonie cut herself again?

“M-Maybe I could do it?”

Leonie blinked but then beamed. “Really? I’d definitely appreciate it!”

Marianne rose and shuffled over, carefully surveying Leonie’s desk. Leonie picked up the towel, which was already speckled with bits of orange hair, and slung it around her neck.

“Most of it should be taken care of already. Even though you have to cut it more often, short hair really is just easier to manage.” Leonie settled her arms on the desk, propping her head up with one hand. Marianne cautiously picked up the scissors. Just like trimming Dorte…

“I actually used to have it long. My parents just never bothered to cut it. And then one day I was out messing around in the woods and got stuck in a bush! I was trying to follow a rabbit trail. My hair was so tangled they had to come and cut it all off to free me. I was kind of upset, but more about losing the rabbit than the hair. And I just haven’t looked back since. It takes less water and soap to clean and it never gets in my eyes.”

Snip. Snip. Marianne ran the fingers of her free hand through the strands to hold them up and comb out any spare hairs. Leonie’s hair was a bit bristly, like straw. She couldn’t imagine it curling everywhere like Sylvain’s even if she did grow it out.

“Ah, sorry if I’m rambling. You’re free to talk, too. No conversation is bad.”

“That’s alright. I don’t think I have much to say today… But it’s nice to hear someone else talk.”

Snip. Snip. Brushing her fingers against Leonie’s neck to clear it of any itchy hairs.

“Well, that’s definitely in my wheelhouse. You have a free pass to tell me to cram it and shut up some other day, though! Now, where was I.. Ah, right. No one in the village would let me live that down until a few months later, when I did something even more fun to gossip about. I was out on one of my first real hunts…”

Marianne made sure to listen, but she kept her focus on Leonie’s hair. If she messed something up, Leonie would have to wear uneven hair or go bald. Better to not have either of those happen. Clipping hair was at least something she could do, and something her Crest couldn’t interfere with. It was simple and repetitive.

When Leonie seemed to falter in what to say, Marianne managed to pipe in.

“Um, how are things with your mare?”

Which led Leonie down another winding rant. Her and that mare had more in common than either of them would ever say. The thought made Marianne’s lips curl upwards in a small smile.

When she was finally done, she drew back as Leonie craned her neck to examine her hair in the mirror.

“Hey, that looks great! Maybe I should get you to help out with all my haircuts.”

Marianne wasn’t sure if that was a good idea. Leonie seemed to notice and cleared her throat.

“At the very least, I owe you one. If you ever need a favor, just let me know, alright?”

Marianne nodded, though she wanted to insist Leonie had done her a favor. The day certainly seemed better now than it had an hour ago. Maybe if she was lucky, the rain would even stop by the evening. Dorte would be excited to hear the update about Leonie’s horse. Maybe she’d even have her own gossip to share from the mare’s perspective.

#leomari #leonianne #marionie #marianne von edmund #leonie pinelli #fe16 #fe three houses #it writes

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kpopchangedme · 5 years ago

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The Wingman | Jae

Jae’s late for pick-up at the daycare center and he worries his favourite teacher hates him now... That is, until his son accidentally saves the day.

Protagonists: Park Jaehyung & You (ft. his 4 yo son)

Word Count: 2k

Genre: SFW - Romance - Single Dad - [Drabble 2k]

Prompt: “That’s... Not mine?”

Requested by: @noona-clock, I hope you love this :D

DAY6 | M.list

As soon as his car comes to a halt in the empty parking lot, Jaehyung jumps to run in direction of the rainbow entrance. The gray commercial building, probably dating back to the 60s, would be as boring as it gets if it weren’t from said colourful door. Without slowing down, he pushes in, not even bothering to put on the designed slippers after kicking off his shoes.

“Bongbong?” He calls in the now empty place, breathless.

“Ahoy, Mr. Park,” you greet, emerging from the office and waving both of your hands his way.

You’re wearing an unusual accessory tonight; a black eyepatch over your right eye and he frowns in worry. Did you hurt yourself? Jae feels even worse now that he sees you’re here. You’re the new daycare teacher, and he finds you adorable. Of course, you’re the one who got stuck here with Jaebong because of him. As if reading his mind, you turn to look at the time on the digital clock above the playground. 7:15PM; it beams, taunting Jae. Ok, he’s never been this late for pick-up before, it’s bad. It’s a Friday night and he’s sure someone like you has better things to do than care for someone else’s son after-hours. You must hate him now.

He rubs his nape nervously. “Hum, it’s just Jae, actually.” It’s overly awkward being called by his last name since you’re around his age.

“Ahoy, Mr. Just-Jae.” You repeat, smile widening, and he finds himself staring, at a loss of words. What’s with the ‘ahoys’ and the eyepatch? “Your son is around, here somewhere, but you’ll have to fight him first.”

“I’m sorry to be so late,” confused, he takes a few steps inside the playroom, “I wasn’t supposed to be the o–”

“ARGH!” A high-pitched scream interrupts his excuses at the same time as something stings his right thigh. “All aboard!” When he looks down, Jae finds his son with a plastic cutlass and a way too large black pirate hat on. He’s standing inside a toy box where he was most probably hiding, waiting to ambush his father.

Oh… That is what’s going on with your eyepatch. The young boy is frowning threateningly, brows furrowed in a grimace mimicking disgust. He’s wearing eyeliner, and large lines are drawn across his face from the same pencil. What is probably meant to be a beard is traced on his chin, and a very impressing mustache is stretching on both sides of Bongbong’s mouth, ending up in curls on his cheeks. Someone should give you a raise for your imaginative makeup skills.

“There he is!” You say, pointing although it’s not obvious already. “Beware!”

“Jesus,” Jae mutters, struggling not to laugh too at this most unexpected sigh. Ultimately he decides to play along: “But... That’s… Not mine?”

“W-Wait what?” He raises his head in time to witness doubt and panic twist your soft features.

“My 4 years old had a lot less facial hair this morning...” He explains, making you laugh in relief. Jae grins, proud of himself, you’re even prettier when you’re laughing at his jokes. “That isn’t my son,” he points to the fierce pirate at his feet.

“I’m sorry, it’s nothing a little soap won’t wash away. We might have taken it a bit too far playin–”

“PIRATES!” Jaebong yells, slashing his leg once more, and this time Jae kneels at the hit, acting wounded. “I am Cap’n Bong, and I give no quarter!” Bongbong squeals when his father counterattacks, caging him for a tickle war. Losing, the boy laughs until he’s practically panting, struggling to say something Jae doesn’t quite catch. When he’s released, he repeats himself awfully serious; “You’re not mommy...”

Instantly, Jae’s smile straightens, remembering the reason why he’s so late. He wasn’t the one supposed to pick his son up at the daycare in the first place. His ex was supposed to spend the long weekend with him, but she called at the last minute saying something came up at work. Jaehyung had to cancel his plans and drop everything. He could’ve called his own family to help, but he didn’t want to burden them… Or for his mother to rant about his ex in front of his son.

“Mommy couldn’t fly back from Japan for the weekend... It’ll be just you and me, little buddy.” Jae glances your way, apologetic for the both of you. “I’m so sorry, daddy came straight from practice as soon as he knew.”

“That’s okay,” the little boy says sternly, dropping his pirate act altogether. He walks away to get rid of his toys and Jae groans, burying his face in hands, disheartened.

He wishes Bongbong wouldn’t be so calm about all this. He’s so used to being let down by people in his life all the damn time, already familiar with rejection. He’s only a child, he should get angry and cry, instead he just takes everything calmly. Jaehyung must damage control every time she screws up. All of this is eventually going to blow up.

“Is your wife away on a business trip?” You innocently ask, voice neutral. Jae notices you’re holding your purse and keys, ready to go out… With the eyepatch. Maybe you really hurt yourself and it wasn’t all for your brief pirating stunt.

“Um, yes... But she’s n–”

“Mommy isn’t daddy’s wifeeee!” Bongbong comes back trotting, grimacing at the apparently unthinkable, “EWWww!”

Your brows shoot up in surprise and Jae makes a weird sound, halfway between a snort and a chuckle at his theatrical ways. He totally got that from his side. “Oh, I’m sorr–”

“It’s alright. We’ve been separated for a long time.” He interrupts to reassure you, eager to move on. “It’s just us; the dream team.” Grabbing his son’s tiny hand, Jae pulls him towards the exit and begins to help putting on his shoes. “Let’s go, little buddy. Your teacher seems to have plans and we’re really lat–”

“I can!” Bongbong whines, snatching away the pricey Nike Air Max his uncle Younghyun got him. Nowadays, he hates whenever someone tries to help, but his father keeps forgetting. “That’s not true. Teacher doesn’t even have a boyfriend!”

Jaehyung bites down his lip as he slips on his own shoes, avoiding looking straight your way. You clear your throat, embarrassed. If Bongbong could score a (partially) toothless 4 years old ‘girlfriend’ on his first day of daycare... Jae is sure a grown woman like you has no problem finding a date on Friday night. Probably with a good man who isn’t a mess, and who doesn’t have to adapt his schedule around his young kid all the damn time.

“Girls don’t need boyfriends to have plans, Park Jaebong.” You fake-scold, ruffling the little boy’s hair, but he’s too concentrated on the Velcro tapes of his shoes to mind. Jae feels himself go all mushy at the sight. “But he’s right,” you add, clearly for the older Park, “I don’t have any...” As soon as you realise what you just said, your eyes round in dismay. “Plans, I m-mean, not a boyfriend! Euh, I’m not in a hurry… So, you can take your time, it’s really no trouble. As long as you come to pick him up, I’m fine.” Jae’s blood rushes to his brain as his heart begins to beat faster. You’re flustered, but he’s not sure why. Surely it has little to do with him. “But I don’t have one either… A boyfriend I mean…” His mouth opens in confusion at your clarification. “Nevermind, forget I said that.” You hurry to add, wincing before running a hand in your hair to mask your uneasiness. Jae breathes out, trying to make sense of the last 30 seconds. That was unnecessary right? You didn’t have to share that personal information with him.

“Do I get to have ice cream now?” Bongbong asks dryly, totally ignoring the general atmosphere between you two grown-ups. He stands back up to slide his hand into his father’s. Jae is thankful for the distraction, since he has no idea what to do with himself after what you said. The little boy turns to you to explain; “When mommy doesn’t make it, I get ice cream.”

“Yes.” Jae replies softly, somewhat ashamed to be exposed for bribing his son with sweets. “Anything you want.”

“Double chocolate.” Bongbong says without hesitation when his father holds the door for everyone to get out.

“Sure, double chocolate,” Jae agrees while you’re locking the daycare doors, “with chocolate sauce...”

“Yeaaaah!” His kid grins pleased with that small win. “Teacher, which flavour do you want?” Jae, who was starting to walk for his car, stops, suddenly frozen still. It seems his son misunderstood since you’re all leaving at the same time, “Buddy, I don’t think–”

“Daddy always eats cookie dough with chips in it…” Bongbong pulls his tongue out, unbothered. “No good!”

“Really?” You laugh and Jaehyung smiles despite himself, gazing at you a little too long. At least until he feels his face warm up, and he has to look elsewhere. You still haven’t moved to get to your own car. Should they walk you, or would that be too weird? “Strawberry ice cream is my favourite.”

Bongbong’s whole face lights up and he offers you a thumbs up, approving. “Can teacher come with us, daddy? Pleaaaaase…”

His son tugs at his hand, pleading, and Jae simply stares in awe. He didn’t expect this opportunity at all. “I, euh, I don’t know...” Jaebong’s got game. No wonder he’s the one with a girlfriend. “Do you want to join us for ice cream, Teacher y/n?” He risks, smiling dumbly when he says your actual name. Jae waits for your answer, heart racing as you toy with your keys. Shit, you’re hesitating. You’re probably weirded out by him even asking you that. Shit. Shit. He feels lightheaded, he’s about to make a joke to get out of it.

After an eternity, you choose to smile back, saying softly; “I never say no to ice cream, Mr Park.” Immediately, Bongbong cheers, starting to run for his father’s car without waiting for you two.

Breathless, Jae hovers, dancing from one foot to the other; “It’s just Jae actually.”

“Jae.” You try, and a shiver runs down his spine. “I’m just y/n.”

“That’s settled then.” He tries to stop smiling by biting his lower lip, but he fails. “There’s only one more thing, y/n…”

“What?” You ask, obviously nervous as you both start walking to join Jaebong.

“It’s not that I mind,” Jae inhales sharply, “But… Did you hurt your eye or–” You gasp in horror, realising something. “Oh my God!” Taking the pirate eyepatch off too fast, you get the elastic entangled in your hair. “That’s so embarrassing…” you groan, wincing. It must hurt when you pull at it, but in your panic, you don’t seem to mind at all.

“It’s nothing,” Jae chuckles, choosing to ease you by making fun of himself, “imagine needing your 4-year-old to help you ask–”

“DADDYYYY!” Bongbong interrupts loudly, tugging at the car’s back door in repetition. “IT’S LOCKED!” He ruins the moment. “OPEEEN!”

Jae shuts his eyes, dispirited, and you burst out laughing, bringing a hand to cover your mouth. When you’re done, you roll your eyes at him and he shrugs, unlocking the doors with his remote. Perhaps Bongbong is still a bit too young to have reached his full potential as a wingman after all. One thing is sure though, thanks to him you’re getting ice cream together…

And it sounds like a much more promising Friday night than what Jae could’ve ever hoped for.

DAY6 | M.list

#Day6 #Day6 Jae #Park Jaehyung #day6 scenarios #jae scenarios #day6 fanfic #Jae Fanfic #Day6 Imagines #Jae Imagines #Jae Fluff #Day6 Fluff #drabble game #Again. not a real drabble #come on lysandre. get your shit together #The Wingman #Park Jaehyung fanfic #park Jaehyung scenarios #Park Jaehyung Imagines

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lancetuckershairgel · 5 years ago

Text

Summary: Chris and Lucy are reunited.

Words: 1,977

Warnings: Stealing, language, emotions, slight mention of former drug use

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Tag List: @book-dragon-13 @jobean12-blog @marvelgirl7 @southernbell91 @buckysforeverprincess @anxiousamandapanda @buckysteveloki-me @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety

AN: Cant do a read more. Also it was brought to my attention that several people didnt get notifications for Chaoter Four that was posted early last week so if you get the notification on this one let me know.

Chris climbed into his truck with a groan, his back stiff and head mildly aching. He rested his head back against the headrest of his seat and closed his eyes, no longer having to rush anywhere. The day had been long and he thanked God that it was Friday. Chris had taught three safety courses to the different fifth grade classes and had two meetings with disgruntled parents about a bullying situation and then he went straight to the college after work. School greeted him with an essay presentation, which he hated, and two exams that he really should have prepared better for.

Chris rubbed his weary eyes and ran his hand over his beard before finally sitting straight and turning on the ignition. The red Ford came to life with a grumble and he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the highway. Normally he would have gone straight home after class, especially with how tired he was, but not only was it a Friday night it was also a three day weekend and he was looking forward to an extended weekend and day off.

"You can't take care of others if you others take care of yourself." Chris' psychology professor would say at the end of every lecture.

"You need a break Chris, you always put too much on yourself." Erin often told him during one of their phone conversations or occasional meet ups at the bar.

"Yolo."

Chris never quite understood that one but the teens at the middle school seemed to use it as a personal mantra. After driving for a few miles he took a right and pulled into a gas station lot and parked. Reed's Gas Mart had been around for a long time. One of the oldest businesses in town, owned by a simple old man, had been around since 1958. The place had quite the reputation built around it. From the late fifties to the early eighties it was a place all the kids came to for an after school milkshake and a handful of candy and to listen to Jerry tale his stories. Unfortunately times changed and things became less simple. Teenagers still frequented the store but not for the shakes. Early in Chris' career as a police officer he'd made a few drug busts in the parking lot but well before that he himself had done a few things he wasn't proud of out back behind the dumpsters. Old man Jerry had caught Chris and a few buddies of his with a crack pipe once and chased them off with a broom, giving Chris a few good whacks across the back of the head all the while hollering about telling his mother. All had been forgiven though and Jerry was a good man, hard worker, and he wasn't going to let a few punk kids ruin his business. Chris gave a slight smile at the memories and entered the store, the ding of the bell overhead indicating that he had arrived.

"Hey Jerry." Chris greeted the hunched over, white haired man

"Hey Chris."

Jerry's reply was short and he didn't look up at the off duty officer. His eyes were focused across the room, narrowed toward the candy aisle.

"I got one. Just stuffed a chocolate bar in the back of 'er pants."

Chris rolled his eyes. Jerry used to love having kids come into his store, he'd even given Chris and his siblings free ice cream cones on the really hot summer cones when they were younger, but over time as Jerry aged and more and more people used his store as their personal sinning grounds the less excited the man became to see a youngster enter his store. He was always suspicious of anyone under the age of twenty five, convinced they were all up to no good.

"I'll keep an eye out." Chris chuckled lightly as he walked over to a rack of snacks.

Chris grabbed a bag of beef jerky and peered across the shelves at the suspected thief. To his dismay he indeed witnessed a crime. What was even more disheart was the fact that he recognized the beg being used to stuff merchandise inside. Blue, faded, torn. Rainbow pin and sharpie "artwork". Even with her hood pulled tight over her head, a classic move to avoid facial recognition on the security tapes, Chris knew that it was Lucy. He watched for a few seconds as she grabbed another item and quickly shoved it into her bag.

"Come on kid, what are you doing?" Chris thought to himself

Lucy made her way to the back of the store, near the personal care items and Chris ducked down and watched through the large circular mirror on the wall as she stuffed another box into her backpack. He sighed and made his way to the counter.

"You're right." Chris ssigh to Jerry with a sigh

"Goddamn kids." Jerry muttered under his breath

"Let me handle it, alright?"

"Fine but I want her out of here and if I catch her anywhere near my store I'll give her the whooping she deserves, you hear me Christopher?" Jerry wagged his crooked finger in Chris' face

"You'll do no such thing old man." Chris rolled his eyes "Put that thing away and go back to watching the game. I'll take care of this."

Lucy's head was down low as she quickly grabbed the items she had came for. Headphones were plugged into her ears and heavy metal played loudly to calm her nerves. her heart pounded in her chest as she rounded the corner to make her exit and she froze in her tracks.

"Shit." She muttered when she saw Chris standing at the counter staring at her with disappointment, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Hey Luce." Chris finally said after a prolonged stare down

Chris could easily read body language thanks to his training in the academy. He knew how to spot suspicious behavior or signs of an abuse victim and he learned to read people by how their left eye twitched or how they shifted from foot to foot. Lucy may have looked defiant, shoulders back and head high, eyes glaring death rays in a dare to interfere with her mission but Chris could see behind that. Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bookbag until her knuckles were white. Her bottom lip quivered slightly. Her pupils were wide and pleading. Lucy was scared.

"Whatcha got there?" Chris took a step forward and relaxed his arms as he gestured toward her bag

"None of your business." Lucy snarled as she stared down Chris

"Come on, hand it over." Chris sighed. He Judy wanted to go home, get a nice buzz off a few beers, watch Game of Thrones, and go to bed.

Lucy mentally walked herself through her options. Would she be able to get out the back door before Chris caught her? What if he called backup and her name ended up on a wanted list and cops showed up at the school?

"I'm fucked." Lucy said to herself and decided to comply. Maybe Chris would go easy on her.

Slowly she handed over the incriminating bag and Chris took it. He eyed Lucy disapprovingly as he looked inside and her face blushed furiously with humiliation and anger as piece after piece of the stolen merchandise was pulled out and placed on the counter. A box of tampons, a box of bandaids, a few cans of soup, a roll of half used toilet paper, and a bottle of equally used hand soap lined the counter. Chris furrowed his brow as studied the items.

"And the candy bar Missy." Jerry gruffed out with a glare

Chris glanced at Lucy and she hesitated. The chocolate was the one thing she was really hoping to get out with. Chris held out his hand impatiently and Lucy reached behind her back and pulled the Hershey bar out of her pocket. She slammed it into Chris' palm with such force that the pieces broke apart. With a sigh Chris put it on the counter with the other items.

"What do you have to say for yourself girl? Stealing from a hardworking old man, none of you have any respect for your elders anymore! Need a good ass whoopin is what you need. Even stole from the bathroom." Jerry ranted and Lucy visibly cringed

"That's enough, Mr Reed." Chris interrupted

"I want her dealt with Christopher. Arrest her."

Lucy tensed and Chris held up his hand

"Just wait a minute Jerry. Look at what she's got here. This looks like necessary stuff, doesn't it? Luce? Is everything okay at home?"

"That's not your business." Lucy held back the tears, letting anger overcome the sadness

"Is your dad not buying things you need?"

"Stay out of it!" Lucy hissed through her teeth, shaking

"I can't help if you don't talk to me, kiddo." Chris tried "Lucy I ca-"

"You're not in charge anymore. You don't work for my school because you left." Lucy spit the word out like it left a bad taste in her mouth and she stepped closer to Chris "You're not even on duty, you can't do shit. What are you even wearing?"

Chris looked down at his red plaid button up shirt and frowned.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing" Chris asked, slightly offended

The realization that Lucy had never seen him without of his uniform came too late. Lucy had snatched the Hershey bar and bolted, the door slamming shut behind her.

"Lucy!" Chris shouted but there was no use. The girl was gone. Chris groaned and buried his face in his hands as he leaned against the counter.

"She left the property. I'm calling the police." Jerry stated as he picked up the landline phone

"For christ sake old man it's a candy bar. Puts you back what? A buck twenty five?" Chris took the phone and put it back on the receiver and slammed a couple dollars on the counter "In fact…"

He walked back to the cooler to grab his sought after beer then grabbed a proper back of bathroom tissue and a bottle of soap.

"How much for all of it?"

Jerry shook his head but began to ring up the groceries.

"You keep coddling these kids, Christopher, and none of them will learn their lesson. It'll be $48.62. "

"No wonder people steal from you." Chris jokes as he ran his credit card through the machine. He knew Jerry couldn't control the inflation and prices of goods these days. The old man swatted at him but did crack a toothless grin.

Chris bid farewell to Jerry and took the bags out to his truck. He placed them in the front seat and drove off, keeping an eye out for Lucy the whole way home. He had no idea where she lived and with it being a holiday weekend it'd be Tuesday before he could get Erin to get her address out of the file.

"Hang in there kid." Chris muttered as he parked the truck in his driveway.

Lucy ran until her lungs burned. Tears streamed down her face and she collapsed to her knees, sobbing. She shouldn't have to steal to provide for her family. She cursed herself for not telling Chris what was going on but she couldn't. He wouldn't help her, he'd just call the social services and they'd ruin everything. She caught her breath and wiped her eyes angrily before standing up and brushing the dirt off her jeans, cursing herself again for getting them dirty knowing it'd be a few days before she could wash them. She clutched the broken candy bar and made her way back home not ready to face the fact that she was going to turn up empty handed.

#destroyer!chris #sebastian stan #fan fiction #fanfic #safe haven

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miss-bunny-who · 5 years ago

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June 11th, 2019

Hello :)

It’s been a few days, so I’m checking in: how have you been doing? (I’m tagging a few people @improvingovertime @fatmaninalittlesuit @toughenoughtiffany @evolutionofacosfitter @akatyeh @i-feel-like-a-joan @i-go-bananacrazy but if you’re not on the list and we’re mutuals, I still want to know how you are^^)

Here it’s been a difficult couple of days.

I’ll start with the positive things: today was weigh-in day. I’ve been doing WW for three weeks, and I lost 0.3kg this week (that’s almost 0.7lbs). It might now seem much, but I’m very happy with that result since in the last few days, I’ve eaten twice at the restaurant (and I ate what I wanted to eat, so those choices were not the healthiest, but they were the most pleasurable), pizza yesterday evening (bacon, lots of cheese, potatoes, cream...) and a big ass cake (black forest, my favorite) on Saturday. So to get -0.3kg is GREAT. So, 3 weeks, -2.1kg, I’m very good with that result!

Now for the less positive things.

You might know my partner has a daughter. She turns 9 today, but since she’s only with us on the weekends, we had a party for her on Saturday. She doesn’t have many friends. Actually, she has one. Whom I invited, of course. Anyway, the weekend was very difficult for me. I did almost everything for her birthday: I chose and bought her presents (plural, and let me tell you, we are not rich. with what we spent for her birthday we could buy 3 weeks worth of food. But I didn’t buy eveything at once: a little bit in April, a little bit in March, put some money aside to be able to get her something she would like); I invited her friend and went to get her (her parents NEVER make the efforts of driving her to our place, or of inviting ours for that matter) and that’s 30min away from here (so 1h round trip), I ordered the cake and went to get it ; I asked her father to ask her if she wanted a special dinner ; I shopped for what she asked and cooked everything (all of that with a running nose, a massive headache and a fever). The only thing I didn’t do is the guacamole because she requested her dad do it.

At the end of it, she said Thank you to her dad for the guac, and I didn’t get any love. She opened her presents and barely looked at them and overall acted like all of this was absolutely normal and she was entitled to it.

The next morning, we were in the kitchen getting ready for breakfast, and she came in, said a big fat cheery hello to her dad, and sat in front of me not saying anything. She then proceeded to ask me if she could use my knife to butter her bread, to which I responded “maybe if you said hi first, I’d be enclined to talk to you”. She then decided to ignore me for the rest of the meal, got jam instead of butter for her bread, and then left and never talked to me again.

I literally burst into tears after she was gone. I’ve been busting my ass for her, getting out of my way to make her feel welcome - and believe me, it’s been difficult for me, who never wanted kids, to accept the fact that this kid, that I hadn’t chosen, had such an impact of my life. I am forced to certain things because 9 years ago, my BF decided to have a child with another woman. (who is a major pain in the ass by the way, and even that is too nice). That particular life choice is not mine, and I have to live with it every single day. as you know, we’ve moved. I wanted to move, that’s for sure. But believe me, the town we are now was not my first choice. We moved there because we wanted to get closer to her, so my BF could ask for shared custody. I took the steps to sell our flat. I put the papers together, I was the one who was there when the buyers visited it over and over again. I looked through the ads to find our new place. Took all the appointments. Did the papers again. Took on my time to check with the realter, the bank, the notary. Did most of the boxes. All the while preparing for my exam, going to my doctors appontments, taking care of the housework, the shopping, the cooking. I’m supposed to be resting. I’m on sick leave. I have been for the past 9 months. This has been a stressful two months. I did all of this, for them. Not even for me. Once again, I sacrificed myself for the well-being of another person. Because I love them. Even this little ungrateful cunt, I love her. Not so much right now, but you get the picture. And this is the thanks I get? Being ignored when I tell her to say good morning? watching her father getting all the credit when all he did was fucking guac?

There are so many times during this weekend when I just wanted to end things.

I told him I wouldn’t talk to her until she said hi and sorry. She finally did. Because her father made her. She wouldn’t have otherwise. That evening we went to a restaurant and it was alright. So before she went to bed I took the opportunity, since I had had time to calm down, to talk to her. I told here I was very sad and hurt by her behavior, and explained, without incriminating her father, why I was sad. I asked her if there was some kind of problem with me, and that it was absolutely okay if there was, because I’m guessing having a step-mom, even if it’s been 3 years, is not an easy thing. But if there was any kind of problem, I would like her to tell me, wo we could work on it. She was really sad that she’d made me sad, and that touched me. We went to bed happy and all was well.

The next day, I knew the minute I entered the kitchen that it was going to be a hellish day again. She got up on “baby” mode. Suddenly, she’s like 4 or 5, and it lasts all day. All she wants to do is cuddle her dad, sit on his lap, she’ll talk like a little girl and act like she’s 5 again. And I fucking hate it. Because when this happen, HE lets her. And I hate her when she does that, and I hate him when he lets and even encourages her.

She’s messy. She doesn’t take care of her things, her room is... I don’t even know what to call her room. But honestly, I don’t care: it’s her room, I won’t go in there unless I’m invited, and I don’t clean in there. She knows how to mess things up, she’ll know how to tidy. That’s my take on it and I won’t budge. But when she takes her mess into the common rooms, I am not happy. I had already told her to tidy her things in the bathroom - shampoo and soap she’ll leave on the shower floor, soaked in water, dirty underwear on the floor, hairties in the sink.... I had told her twice, nicely. On Monday, I didn,’t tell things so nicely. Here dad, who was behind the door, waited for her to come out and kissed her. Like poor baby, you’ve been scolded I’m gonna kiss your sadness away. WHAT IS THAT?! he knows I’m right, but he always comes in like a superhero, and I’m always the bad guy. He never tells her off. He says he doesn’t see her that much and doesn’t want to ruin the time he has with her by doing so. I understand, I do. But it doesn’t mean it’s the right thing. It’s not good for her, it’s not good for him, it’s not good for us. Mostly, she’s a good kid. But she’s still a kid and she likes to test the limits. I’m always the one who tells her when she oversteps. He never does.

It happened 3 or 4 times yesterday, and everytime he stepped in to take his kid’s side. I’m telling you, this has got to stop. I’ve been pretty patient. I’ve changed a lot of my ways to accommodate them both. I know I can be difficult to live with, but I’m making so many efforts, and he knows it. He knows all I do or say is in their best interest. But every time he does that, he’s teaching her she can do anything and she will always be right and I will always be wrong. And that pisses me off.

Every time this happened this weekend, she shot me a look that meant “see? I AM his favorite. Say what you want, it’s always gonna be me”. And don’t tell me I’m exaggerating: my friend H was over, and she saw it too. I didn’t even have to tell her anything.

I don’t know if I can go on like this much longer.

I spent most of the weekend crying. My BF apologized and told me I was right, but when she wasn’t listening. He said he’ll try to do better. He admits to having let himself live: I’m too god at what I do, it makes life easy for him, and he took advantage of it. It made me so happy that he would say it. But I honestly don’t know if he’s capable of change. You could say I could let things go... and chill if things are not done right away. But I can’t live in a mess, knowing some papers have to be taken care of, that the bank is waiting for something, that the school needs this, there’s that doctor appointment to think of, this brthday coming up, her mother to call for mother’s day... he won’t do any of those things if I don’t do them, or 3 weeks later. And that gives me anxiety. And I already have plenty of that so...

Anyway, that was a long ass post and I’m sorry, but I needed to get it off my chest. If you want to comment, please do. Sometimes I’m ranting and I don’t want people to comment. This is not one of those times. Any two cents will be appreciated.

#life at elise's

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cushfuddled · 6 years ago

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I’ve been reading @sol1056‘s and @ptw30′s metas again and I...wanted to pipe up here. I think what is so EXTREMELY frustrating to me about Voltron is that I came into the show looking for a story with emotional closure.

I left the Sherlock fandom after season 4 with a desire to find a SAFE show, because I’d spent the last six years being dragged around by writers who

1. cared more about flashy shots/concepts and cool set pieces than telling an actual story, and

2. loved to break their characters over and over again without giving them time to recover or characters who cared about them

So I saw Voltron (I started watching when season 2 came out) and I was like, “Oh my god, it’s a kid’s show about the power of friendship and teamwork. There’s no way this can go wrong.” Because like. Seriously. I knew the story could enter a tailspin. We’re talking about a space opera, here. There’s a lot that can go wrong. But I rarely care about plot points, ya’ know? What I care about are the character interactions...the emotional aspects of a story. And seasons 1-2 gave me reason to believe that, despite the fact that Voltron was such an action-heavy show, there would be pieces of character interaction here and there that would slowly bring the cast together and establish them as a family. I was looking forward to that progression.

Aaaaaaaandddddd nooowwwww

IT’S NOT. THAT. HARD. To make it seem like characters care about each other. I’m still a fledgling writer, but DAMN, how do you fuck up badly enough to send one of your CORE CAST MEMBERS away for like two seasons and NEVER HAVE THEIR FRIENDS MENTION THEM O N C E . The ONLY time the Voltron crew said Keith’s name was when Allura played him in “The Voltron Show!”, and even then it was just a joke about how he was nothing more than an emo lone wolf. This was episode 37. That’s twelve hours into the story...

I’ve already gone on a longer Keith rant, so I’ll step off that soap box. But now there’s Shiro and Lance to talk about. Their paths for character development all seemed so simple in the beginning! Shiro would continue to learn to open up, or maybe exit the cast by returning to Earth after fulfilling his arc with Black. Lance would embrace his place as Blue Paladin and learn not to compare himself to Keith; he’d realize he didn’t have to be a leader to be loved and admired. Pidge would reunite with her family, and at the same time gain a new home with her teammates.

But then the show tried to sideline Shiro before he’d fulfilled his arc with Black. I personally would’ve preferred for him to never leave the cast at all, since he represents so many minority groups, but AT LEAST I expected him to tie up some kind of healing arc with Black before he returned to Earth or left to work with a rebel group or something. But nope! The show halted that arc with his disappearance. When the writers returned to Shiro’s story after seasons of clone limbo, I feel like they tried to fulfill the healing arc they’d cut off at the end of season 2—but they replaced Black with Atlas. Why did they think the new mecha carried the same symbolic weight as Shiro’s bond with Black—a bond he had earned and cherished over the course of two seasons? That healing arc from before doesn’t apply anymore. They’re trying to patch the end of the first story with the resolution of a totally different one. They didn’t even try to let Shiro talk to his friends. OR let his friends talk to him. THIS SHOW IS SUPPOSED TO BE ABOUT THE POWER OF TOGETHERNESS. WHY DOES NO ONE EVER ASK SHIRO IF HE’S OKAY THESE DAYS?

And then there’s LAAANCE. Lance never returned to Blue. It could’ve been cool, to use Lance’s position with Red to explore the conflict between him and Keith. TO ADDRESS, IN THE ACTUAL STORY, WITH THE OTHER CHARACTERS, how Lance feels about Keith. As far as Lance is concerned, Keith just gets power without even working for it, then throws it away like it’s trash, and Lance is left to pick up the pieces (like his position in the fighter pilot class and later his position as a Paladin). We the AUDIENCE know Keith has his reasons for turning away those roles, but Lance equates things like parades and power to love (because that’s what Lance actually wants; to be loved and needed by others) and would probably be insulted by Keith’s apparent disregard for the things he values so highly. In the canon story as of now, this confrontation has still not happened between Keith and Lance, and it never will. The audience is supposed to believe Lance mostly got over his rivalry with Keith when he accepted him as his leader, and he slowly cooled down after that. But that’s not what we’re SHOWN as viewers. Lance never mentions Keith when he’s away. The two continue to bicker the moment Keith returns, and not always in jest. In episodes like “The Fued!” Lance is still shown to struggle with self-doubt, and rather than reassure him, his teammates only tease him for the fact. They also tease him when he’s heartbroken over Allura. Lance's support for Allura displays a big chunk of growth from his early days, but his rivalry with Keith and his own feelings of inadequacy still go unaddressed by the narrative. WHY WOULD YOU NOT CAPITALIZE ON THOSE HUGE POINTS, AS A STORY-TELLER? AGAIN, THIS IS A STORY ABOUT TEAMWORK AND FOUND FAMILY! If you’re going to say his rivalry and inadequacy were resolved off-screen, then AT LEAST don’t reopen the wound by making characters tease Lance for his stupidity/uselessness, or reignite his rivalry with Keith over and over when it was supposedly resolved seasons ago.

REALLY, though: Why do these characters never ask each other if they’re all right? Keith and Shiro were close enough to ask each other before season five, and their relationship was one of the strongest in the show. I thought I was going to get to see more of that kind of thing within the rest of the cast, as they grew closer. But nope. The times they DO stop to talk, I feel like it’s really powerful! The moments between Keith and Shiro and Keith and Lance from “Tailing a Comet” strike me as particularly effective. But those moments are so few and far between that 90% of the time I’m left asking, “Do any of these people actually care about each other at all?”

I’m just...

I KNOW IT’S A SPACE OPERA. There are thousands of moving parts surrounding the production of this series and WRITING IS H A R D. But this...I think I’m frustrated because some of these arcs looked like they would be SO SIMPLE to complete. I was so sure in the beginning of this show that I was signing up for a safe ride...that no matter what happened to the characters along the way, there was a surefire happy ending waiting for me at the end of the tunnel, with the characters fulfilling some part of their arcs.

BUT HERE WE ARE AND

#FJKASLDJASKLALKFJSLAK #voltron critical #I left a series to escape a lack of emotional followthrough #only to fall into a show with a problem with emotional followthrough #why #why did this happen

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its-a-queer-thing · 7 years ago

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ICYMI Pt 12--3x03

Now we're going to talk about the infamous pedophile episode and as much as I want to criticize our society's double standard for sexuality at young ages and how that transcends into how we view pedophilia, I will try to keep off that soapbox and keep it contained to the Gallavich topic.

So first and foremost, after Debbie sees a man masturbating on the bus, Lip and Ian have this idea to see if there are any sex offenders living in their neighborhood, and it turns out that there is one only a couple of blocks over. So they go to get the Milkovich family upon Mandy's suggestion, and they all congregate at this pedophile’s house only to find out that the pedophile is a woman.

Instantly everyone calms because she's a woman and we have been taught never to hit women (also this changes how the mob empathizes with the victim) so the question then is why do we look at pedophiles differently if they are women? Why is it more socially acceptable for teenage boys to be sexually active with grown women but inappropriate for teenage girls to be sexually active with grown men? (Hopefully I don't have to explain this but I will clarify I am not trying to say that it is okay for young girls to have relationships with older men or young boys with older women or any other variation of this. What I am saying is we need to stop criticizing young girls who are interested in sex at an early age if teenage boys are the same way, stop acting as though young boys are capable of sexually fending for themselves while treating our young girls like china. To make it even clearer, I’m saying we need to protect our young boys as much as we do our young girls or come to some kind of compromise. We also need to keep in mind that older women who have sex with teenaged boys (or girls) are also pedophiles. It is pedophilia regardless of the gender of the pedophile and we as a society need to come to that understanding.)

I will now step down from that soap box and return to topic of Gallavich...

I can already see the snarky comments about that rant...

Anyway...

So the number one thing about this scene that is important for Gallavich in particular is when she tries to justify her pedophilia by saying that she served her time and paid for her “mistake,” then redefining her “mistake” as love.

At the mention of love, Mickey looks to Ian and this really shows that maybe Mickey is already starting to consider that he may be in love with Ian, at least on a subconscious level.

After the party disperses, Mickey tries significantly too hard to act straight.

This could be a direct response to his halted revelation that he definitely feels something for Ian and is desperately trying to convince himself that the relationship he has with Ian is physical and that he is not gay.

In a desperate attempt to cling to his masculinity and heterosexuality he asks someone who has a reputation for being easy if she wants to have sex

This is a depressing and almost shocking attempt to cling to his heterosexuality to prove to people that he doesn't even need to prove his sexuality to that he's not gay and that frankly is tragic to me.

Ian, seeing this for exactly what it is tries to ignore it . Of course, we find out later that Ian can’t just forget it because even though Mickey is desperately trying to cling to his perceived heterosexuality, Ian can’t help but feel jealous that Mickey got involved with anyone at all...

Next time we see Mickey is at the Kash and Grab for his shift with Ian and the first thing we see is a failed attempt at a drug deal.

The kid clearly has never done this before, and though I have personally never been involved in a drug deal, I can say with certainty that this was not a good one.

For several episodes now I've been alluding to evidence that supports that Mickey is involved in Terry's drug ring or whatever business he has and this is another big piece of evidence:

He calls it his business, but I have a distinct feeling that he was not the mastermind behind this operation in that he wouldn't be in this situation if his dad didn't probably either force him or suggest to him that he start dealing drugs. First we saw evidence in 2x02 when Mickey tries to strike a deal with Kev and Lip suggesting they sell his cocaine/Special K/whatever else and when Kev refuses, for a second it almost seems like we saw some remorse or thought go into what he's doing. Then just in the last post we saw a little bit of sadness when Mickey explains his reason for coming back to school that he wasn't coming back to school to get an education or re-enroll, he wasn't doing anything that promised a bright future, he was picking up drug money for cocaine that he trafficked into the school. Here he seems a little more casual about it, but then he seems a little more casual about everything in this episode.

He casually disregards his feelings for Ian, he casually disregards the pedophile, he casually disregards his own sexuality, and now here he is not seeming to mind anymore that his drug pushing is directly impacting young people's lives because that's who he mostly deals to: kids only a little younger than he and Ian.

I think that maybe because he knows that this is for his and his family’s survival, he is able to ignore it. Keep in mind also that if he suddenly stopped dealing drugs for his dad I know with great certainty that this would be dangerous for him. His father would not take it lightly and he would definitely have to find a new way of making money, one that's probably even more dangerous, so in this instance it's as though he's made peace with what he’s doing because he knows that he's doing what he has to do to help his family survive, to keep his dad off his ass, and pull in what his family needs for income.

Then for some reason, Mickey also feels suddenly casual about talking about his sex life with Ian... He switches gears about his openness about their relationship, and this seems really sudden. It may be because Ian is upset at him (whether it be because he's dealing drugs to young people or just that he’s dealing drugs in general, I’m not sure. Ian definitely is not happy with Mickey's little side business either way) so Mickey tries to be cute.

And it works! Well... at least it certainly did for me...

Or it could just be that he is getting comfortable and as I mentioned before is just casual in this episode in general.

But Ian quickly refocuses and asks about Angie Zago, who as I promised was revealed to be kind of like the easy girl on the block.

Mickey makes it seem like it's not a big deal when the truth is, it is. Especially after such a close call to a revelation about his feelings for Ian, he probably needed to ground himself to convince himself that Ian means nothing to him more than sexual gratification. And even at this point it seems he’s trying to convince himself that he doesn’t even need Ian for that, that they can be just friends, even though it's painfully clear that Ian means a lot to him. Keep in mind, when he first came back he acted out of rage and jealousy when he found Ian with someone else, and then even admitted to Ian that he missed him. Now we see him start to distance a little bit, trying to maintain that boundary that has been coming down slowly but surely every time they meet.

Next shot that we see of Ian and Mickey, Ned comes to the Kash and Grab to (basically) stalk Ian and try to ask him out... but it's under the guise of being in the neighborhood and being hungry... Because you know... He’s smooth like that...

Mickey is talking to a couple of customers in the back of the store, almost definitely for his drug deals if the gesture and white cup in his hand is anything to go by, but notices the exchange, and doesn't look happy about it...

While Ian doesn’t look terribly tempted, he does see an opportunity. You can almost see the thought occur to him in the next gif when Ned insists.

Ian is willing to play to Mickey’s jealousy in order to get him to act on his feelings that Ian knows are there. And our boy does not disappoint.

When he gets back to the front of the store, he again does not look happy as Ned is trying to leave. As smooth as our boy tries to be, it's very clear that he's jealous of what he's seen, and he knows that there's something between Ian and Ned. Look at Ned even seeing right through him.

So because he understands what he's just seen, Mickey reduces the entire thing down to a joke and mocks Ian for being involved with an older man. Of course, I'm disgusted by it too (though for a different reason than Mickey is) so I'm certainly not going to hold it against Mickey for making fun of Ian in this case, though generally it would be considered rude and even a little demeaning.

As I mentioned in the previous analysis, this season is a season of jealousy. With Mickey starting to open up his own mind and his own heart to the possibilities of Ian meaning more to him than he initially believed, he's also allowing jealousy into this situation. BUT he’s still very deep in the closet. So how do you open up to someone you care about, but keep your defenses up against potentially being outed because of just being with said person?

So this is the first time we're seeing Mickey feel really anything towards Ian that isn't the violent anger we saw in his premiere episode or blatant lust as we saw in 2x02. And with this jealousy we're seeing how strongly Mickey connects to the people that he cares about and this connection is really really strong for him even if he won't admit it to himself, and certainly not to Ian.

My favorite part of this scene in particular was when Ian stuck him with that zinger, leaving Mickey just staring after him almost as though he's saying “touche”

Because now Mickey is consciously receiving a taste of the jealousy that Ian has been feeling with Mickey's non-commitment and of course Mickey's encounter with Angie Zago. And I think that it's this comment that is actually required to help Mickey understand that what he's feeling IS jealousy, and maybe only a second longer to realize what that jealousy means. From there it's just a question of what this feeling motivating the jealousy is and if he's willing to allow that feeling to grow. (Which of course we know it will).

Considering how Mickey follows Ian to spy on him, I'd say he is starting to realize how much he cares for the redhead.

But of course we can't make too much progress all at once...

Notice Ian’s face. Shit is going downhill so quickly and he already knows what’s going to happen....

Mickey definitely also sees any term which would insinuate that he is gay as an insult, probably even the highest of insults! While Mickey is making progress towards accepting his sexuality, he is not quite there because the internalized homophobia is still such a huge, huge hurdle that he has to overcome, especially in public. This is a stranger, one he already dislikes because Ian has a relationship with him, and they were out on a city street talking about this where anyone could have overheard.

So while I do not condone his violence towards Ned, because it was so undeserved (though I still can't find it in my heart to feel too terribly bad considering that Ned is in a pedophilic relationship with Ian (if he isn’t a full blown pedophile which we have no knowledge of) and I will never be able to accept that as okay... but of course because Mickey isn't beating that up for that reason I can't really use that as a way to specifically excuse him, so I won't excuse him...)

I will simply try to encourage everyone to understand where this violent outburst is coming from to at least understand him in this moment. And what I want people to understand is this violent reaction to Ned insinuating that Mickey is gay is the same violent hatred he feels towards himself for actually being gay. He’s always fine to joke with Ian about their sexual relationship and even acknowledge that they have sex (only amongst themselves, of course) but as soon as there’s an assumption of a relationship or deeper feelings, that’s when Mickey shuts down. That’s when sexuality becomes more than just a primal need and becomes too intimate. That’s what he feels the need to shut down, the intimacy.

Now, watch Ian’s reactions. Remember, I mentioned earlier that whenever Mickey does something outrageous we need to look to Ian to figure out what’s going on with Mickey because Ian is excellent at seeing through Mickey’s mask.

Now, Ian’s pretty calm for someone witnessing an assault and I think it’s because he understands that Mickey feels defensive over his sexuality. He knows that for some reason, Mickey feels the need to beat any doubt about his heterosexuality out of any challenger’s mind, and for now that challenger is Ned.

Of course, this is still an assault and certainly not an appropriate response to this insinuation, but Ian understands just how deep that rage goes for Mickey to be called gay.

Notice that Ian is pretty calm when it comes to stopping Mickey, only meeting him at his level of violence when it’s clear Mickey won’t back off. And even then, that chop to the throat wasn’t a very hard one, just enough to knock the air out of Mickey and knock him off balance long enough to realize that what he was doing was stupid. Also notice that Ian’s reasoning to Mickey for hitting him wasn’t anything to do with Ned, it was that they were going to have cops on their asses soon. Ian is still choosing Mickey’s well being over just about anything at this point. Even though Mickey has done something incredibly wrong, Ian is still on Mickey’s side and is still more worried about what’s going to happen to Mickey if he gets caught.

Now, I don’t think this part can be over valued. Ian chose Mickey. Mickey did something really, really wrong but Ian still picked Mickey, running with him even though if he and Mickey had been picked up together, Ian would probably have been guilty by association and arrested too.

But he chooses Mickey. And makes a statement to Ned (and Mickey) that Mickey is more important. A lot of Ian haters seem to undervalue this moment.

Then we're going to put a beautiful red bow and Band-Aid over what just happened and see a really beautiful moment between Ian and Mickey as Ian scolds Mickey for what he did.

I just have to mention how his hand immediately goes toward his belt... I think it's playful, I think it's funny, I think it's endearing, I love how they then played with each other, they chased each other around and had a great time together like boys should! Even at this age, boys should just run around and have fun! And so that's what they're doing, and it's in these private moments that we see a glimpse of the boy that Mickey still is.

Mickey may be 18 technically but I think every now and again due to his circumstances, he deserves a few moments to just let loose and be young, especially if that is with his best friend and his lover. I think it's important that we keep in mind that the Mickey that is abrasive and confrontational that we see in public when he's surrounded by strangers is polar opposite to the warm and inviting young man he is with Ian. I think it's important to know that Ian seems to recognize which is a mask and doesn't push it when he wears that mask because he understands why it's necessary, even in the last season when Monica takes Ian out to a club she reminded Ian that there is a time and a place to be loud open and proud about who he is, but reminded him not to come out of the closet at the high school because there's a great chance that he would get attacked just based on where they are. So it's important to note that Mickey recognizes that danger everyday on top of the risk from his own father, and so that means that his true self, who he is around Ian and this guarded off person that we see him as a significant amount of the time during this show, are completely different people and there's a reason for that. His fear is what makes these two sides of him so polarized and the mask and shield so strong, because it has to be.

So to Gallavich haters, to wrap up, look at them play around and just have fun together. These two are best friends, they are each other’s release, each other’s partner and pillar to lean on. Their relationship is developing so beautifully at this point and it’s amazing that we get to see these little glimpses of them being more than just lovers. I feel as though too much emphasis is often put on a romantic couple being romantic or sexually intimate. But a relationship takes so much more than that, there needs to be a foundation of friendship with that extra little spark and we definitely get a glimpse of that here.

That’s all I’ve got for this episode!

Did I miss anything? Do you disagree with my analysis? Let me know!

Until next time, lovelies! <3

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#icymi #shameless icymi #shameless #shameless us #gallavich #gallavich icymi #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #shameless 3x05 #defending gallavich

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thewnchstrs · 2 years ago

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Malleus Maleficarum