#he would have appreciated those pleather daddy’s

[evasive-anon]

Jason looks so happy. Got to have a fun night out at the gay bar with his big bro then beat up a bunch of bear strippers dressed like cops on Reno 911. Love to see him winning.

[pinkbunnygirlwattpad]

I’ve been writing a fanfiction based off this image for DBD Ghostface and I think it’s going pretty well. I still have to write the rest of it, reread it and edit it but it’s going pretty well. I think I might be half way through it but idk depends. Underneath is about a third of what I have so far.

Warning: Stalking, Danny being a pervert, murder(?), mentions of sex, other things

Summary: Reader is a closeted age-regressor but Danny is nosy so he’ll know

Daddy’s Little Girl

Danny had been stalking you for a while, much longer than any of his other victim but that was because you were special. He had seen you whilst he was at some house party with cheap liquor and horny idiots practically fucking on the walls and floor, he bitterly thought that it was more like an orgy than the drinking fest the host wanted it to be. Your friend had dragged you to the piss poor excuse for a party and one look into those round, doe eyes had given him the feeling he had when he saw someone he knew had to be one of his victims. He examined you closer while you were there and saw how your whole being exuded purity, from the way your hair looked so soft and the way your skin looked like a blanket made of silk. It was your face that really made him want you, though. Your lips were parted slightly, and you had slightly chubby cheeks, giving them a squishy, bouncy texture that made you look more like a child. But what made him really hooked was the innocent gleam in your eyes when you looked around the room.

 He followed you throughout the night and it made him much more excited about what he was going to do to you when he saw the oblivious state you were in with every guy who flirted with you. It would be so easy to trick you, unlike his previous victims who would have never been interested in some reported with a heart of gold, you would immediately fall for that shtick. He wanted to have sex for the pure gratification of corrupting you. Clinging to your friend all night had made it hard to get close to you but no matter, not when he could stalk you, find out your interests and then sweep you off your feet.

 It had not been hard to find out about you, it is what he does best. You were too busy worrying over your friend to notice a mysterious figure behind you. Danny even had fun of being obvious about it, but you didn’t notice a thing, a kind of obviousness that was hard to find in Roseville where all the people were cut-throat due to the high population of rich people in the area and harsh jobs that were specialised in that area. Your friend wouldn’t help either due to their pathetic drunken state. Thinking in this direction was getting Danny worked up and would leave him with a boner if he were not careful.

 After some time and a quick walk down a path in the nearby woods, you were home in your cottage with a white-picketed fence, beautiful flowers of all colours blooming in the front and some along the stone path leading to the back. The fences seemed to be more for décor reasons than serving an actual purpose since Danny knew that this particular land was quite spacious. You lead your friend inside and, from the window in the front, Danny observed you catering to your very drunk friend. He noted that the inside of the house were pastels and had lots of fantasy, fairy, cottagecore and light academia vibes. He did have to admit, even though he didn’t care for interior design aside from to keep up appearances, he appreciated something so beautiful like that.

 Now knowing where you live and marking it down in his black, pleather (he may kill people, but he wasn’t so heartless!) journal, he left for the night to get some rest. This was the first time in awhile he felt this excited for killing! Don’t get him wrong, killing was fun but it got monotonous to kill the same types of people over and over again. It was exciting to spicy his routine up a bit.

 Danny had been stalking you for 3 weeks and 4 days. He had taken pictures of you throughout that time, at your job, with your friends, when your alone and even in the shower! He did feel guilty about it for a few seconds before he decided that he was entitled to see your body if you had bad security in the first place that allowed people like him to get in. During the duration of this time, he had begun to psychoanalyse you and what your behaviour means, how your body language was an indication of your emotions and built a profile for you within his mind palace (it was easy with his photographic memory). You were so wholesome most of the time, whereas you did occasionally participate in conversations of kins, for the majority, you didn’t want to talk about sex or anything that came anywhere close. Something he also observed was that you had a tendency to not talk in ‘big words’ a lot of the time and he could list so much more that you did but that would be ranting. You bought many plushies, colouring books and ready-made snacks like chicken/tofu nuggets and yoghurt pots, stuff traditionally children liked. Although it made sense seeing how you were the go-to babysitter for the majority of your co-workers and friends, as well as distant neighbours and relatives. Plus, who didn’t enjoy hugging or collecting plushies? And Danny himself was a big fan of ready-made meals due to the time consumed by his work and ‘hobby’.

 Packages were often delivered to your house, at least from what he had seen but maybe it was a wave of them at once, like a spree shopper may do. The thing that intrigued him most to the contents of those deliveries was the way you were very protective over them, not letting anyone see even though you thought you had nothing to worry about. It made him want to know what you might be doing with them or what was in them. For all he knew, it could be something from the dark web, something disgusting and vile that would make you a devil in angel form. Entertaining this idea made him more desperate to find out what it was. And he would.

 He had snuck into your house after you had gone to work so he knew he had a long time before you came home. Once he was inside after going through your unlocked window, (what a forgetful, little thing) he saw a pile of discarded clothes. Approaching the crumpled garments, he picked up a shirt and smelled it. Yep, it was dirty laundry. It sent a shiver of excitement up Danny’s spine from excitement. Oh, what a naughty bunny you were, leaving him such a tantalizing gift. If he didn’t know better, it would seem like you were hoping to rile him up. During this stalking periods as he called it, you became dissimilar to his previous victims who pull a dark desire straight from the depths of his heart where his sick fantasies were locked from the world, you made him want something different than what he already experienced with them. He thought that it could be a new way to kill you, one only for you and designed to be the perfect art form in which to send you off to the afterlife. Of course, he was beginning to realise it was different to this. But back to why he was there.

 Looking around, he spotted one of the boxes that had been opened on your bed with objects seemingly thrown haphazardly into it. He nearly ran up to it he was so exhilarated from the rush of finding out what you were hiding from him. Not that he couldn’t make as much noise as he wanted, your cottage was 40 minutes from the outskirts of the city, which wasn’t the safest environment anyways, and 3 hours away in all other directions from anywhere containing sane, human life.

 Once within reaching distance, he picked it up without peaking in and sat on your soft bed. His hands were trembling from a strong surge of adrenaline and, without wanting to torture himself further, began to look through it. He prayed to find anything that made you deceitful and like him but what he saw wasn’t what he expected.

 Adult pacifiers, shortalls, sippy cups and more items similar to them were inside it. His initial thought was that you were into age play, but he doubted it, even if you were, you wouldn’t use anything this expensive in your casual hook-ups. Now that he knew what was in the box, he had even more questions which wasn’t what he had expected. With a new determination, he had arranged everything back into its original position and left your cottage to collect his thoughts and write down his questions at his base of operation. As he was driving back to the house he bought, he went down to his basement where he kept all his hunting equipment locked in. Looking at the corkboard he used to pin information about his current target, he methodically updated your information. As he did, he realised that he couldn’t stop smiling. This was new, having reached this level of excitement from his victim, it only made his obsession grow bigger for you. Oh, how you would regret going to that party that night.

[owlish-peacock36]

The Scope of the Heart: Chapter 2

Sadly, no Jamie in this chapter. But we’ve gotta build up to that, right?! (I promise you’ll see him soon.)

It was the tenth time in one hour that Claire had looked at her mobile. Perhaps she should be focused on work, but slow days at the nurse’s station led to extreme boredom, and the inability to stay awake. The screen before her lit up with the angular face of her new acquaintance. She hadn’t realized he had taken a picture when he intercepted her phone, but there he was: lips upturned, hair aflame.

Claire didn’t know much about this man, but she could deduce one thing: Jamie Fraser was a sneaky bastard.

A sneaky, handsome bastard.

“And who is this?!”

The phone disappeared from Claire’s hands in a flash sandy locks, and teal scrubs.

“Geillis!”

Claire’s fingers wiggled as she stretched toward the device in her friend’s hands, but as Geillis had a good 5 inches on her, it remained out of her reach.

“GEILLIS!”

“What a handsome lad… Is this yer new boyfriend? Good for ye!””

“No, Geil. He isn’t my boyfriend. Give me my phone back!” She bounced, her fingertips knocking the phone out of the blonde’s hands. It clattered to the ground with a sickening rattle. “Geillis, I swear to God, if my screen is cracked…”

“It’s no my fault. YOU hit it.” Claire was an only child, and had never experienced the nuances of a sibling relationship. But, she felt as if Geillis were the older sister she never had.

As she bent to pick up her phone, she said a little prayer. Thankfully, she had bought a heavy duty case for the poor iPhone the previous week, and the drop had only caused a small divot in the plastic.

“So…?”

“So what?”

Geillis flipped her hands in a go on gesture. “So… who is that on yer phone?”

“Just someone I met at the park. Willie hit it off with his daughter, so we exchanged information for playdates, and such.”

“And real dates too, I hope.”

“Geillis…” It was a half-hearted warning. When Geillis started, there was no stopping her “What?! Did ye really expect me to see a hot guy on yer phone and not question ye about it?”

“I didn’t really expect you to see it at all…”

“Is it a secret, then? Does he have a wife?!”

“Geillis!”

“If ye say my name one more time—”

“It isn’t like that, I told you. He’s just a dad—“

“Mmhmm. Daddy…”

“JUST A DAD that I met at the park. Willie and Brianna—his girl—really seemed to have a good time. And I just… I don’t know, I jumped at that chance.” Claire sighed, trying not to let the emotions get the best of her. But she could already feel her eyes prickle at the thought of her mop haired child. “I worry about him. Ever since the move… he’s had trouble connecting with his classmates. He needs a friend. And I thought maybe this could be it.”

“Aye.” Geillis’ long fingers twirled in the brunette’s curls in a soothing motion. “Ye want what’s best for him, of course. Yer the best mam.”

“Hardly.”

“Weel, yer the best mam I know. But, he’s a wonderful lad, Claire. He’ll be alright.”

“I know that.”

“And what about what’s best for ye? Ye can have fun, ye ken. Frank wouldna begrudge ye that. He’d want ye to be happy, too.”

“I know that,” Claire repeated. “But I’m not ruining Willie’s only friendship by having sex with her dad.”

“I’m no saying that.” The Scot rolled her eyes. “But, ye should get out more. Come to the pub with Joe and I sometime. Take a yoga class. Something. Anything.”

The ringing of the desk phone was a harsh interruption.

“Nurse Beauchamp, please hold.”

“Joe and I are going out tomorrow night. Get a sitter, and come with us.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I ask.”

***

Claire watched as her trainers sunk into the puddles as she walked up her driveway. Twelve hours of work, and she couldn’t find it in her to care about the ruined white pleather. All she wanted was some coffee, her bed, and her son.

“MUMMY!”

Speak of the devil… The boy came flying out of the doorway to clutch his mother around her waist. Claire clung to him in return, bending to place her nose in the riotous curls. He smelled of strawberry and soap; Mrs. Graham--the angel--must have given him a bath.

“Honey, where are your shoes?” Willie stood before her, his feet encased in knee-high socks… and nothing else. They were dirty and damp from the rainwater on the ground.

He looked down, as if surprised at his shoeless-ness, and merely shrugged.

“Well, c’mere you!” Claire grabbed him quickly, lifting him in her arms. He was almost too old for such actions, but not quite. She ran full speed toward the door, tickling Willie’s stomach simultaneously. He shrieked and wiggled, but her grip was tight.

“MUM, NO!”

“MUM, YES!”

Claire continued her assault until the entered the house, and she dropped him unceremoniously on the sofa. Willie was beet red and grinning ear-to-ear.

“Was work good, Mama?”

“Oh, it was alright. I would have rather spent it with you, though.” With that, she planted a tiny kiss on his nose. “Where’s Mrs. Graham?”

“Kitchen.”

“Wash your hands for dinner. And take those dirty socks off!”

Claire entered the kitchen through the archway, and the smell immediately hit her. Garlic, onions chicken. Pungent scents that merged together to make her stomach rumble. The small, gray haired was hunched over the stove, a cloud of steam surrounding her.

“Mrs. Graham. I told you before that you don’t have to cook dinner.”

“Och, I ken that,” Mrs. Graham rang from over her shoulder. “But it’s the least I could do after ye’ve had such a long day.”

“I appreciate it. I just hope you don’t feel obligated.”

“Never. Ye are family. The daughter I never had.” Mrs. Graham was blessed with 4 children… All boys. All living far away all across Europe and America. “And Willie might as weel be my grandson. So let me spoil ye two!”

“Fine, fine! I won’t argue when the food smells so good!” Claire approached the older woman, peeking at the cooking. “And what are we having?”

“Just some pasta, my dear. Ye should wash up before dinner. Ye smell of rubbing alcohol.”

“Will do!”

***

A short shower made Claire feel somewhat human again, but the growling in her stomach had yet to cease.

Thank God for Mrs. Graham.

She re-entered the kitchen to find the other two inhabitants sitting primly at the table, large bowl of pasta in the middle.

“Am I late?” She teased.

“Nay, dear. We just sat down. Come join us.”

“Don’t mind if I do!”

The three are in silence. Well, the two women ate in silence as they listened to Willie’s ramblings about his school day.

“...And Mrs. MacLeod has these little bears. She said they’re ‘posed to help us with numbers, but I think they’re pretty, ‘cause they’re all rainbow colors…”

The women chuckled at the young boy’s musings, hanging on his every detail as he became more and more animated.

“...And then Cole touched the piano AND HE WAS SENT TO THE OFFICE!”

“Oh no!”

“Mmhmm!!” Willie answered as he took another bite, smearing cheesy white sauce on his chin.

They finished their meals quickly, and worked together to wash the dishes, singing radio tunes.

“Will, say goodbye to Mrs. Graham, and go brush your teeth for bed. You smell like garlic!”

The little boy ran to the older woman, grasping her about the waist. “Bye, Mrs. Graham!” And he was off in a flash, as was the M.O. of small children.

Claire led Mrs. Graham to the door, seeing her out of the house.

“Thank you for dinner. It was wonderful. As usual.”

“Not a problem, dear. Ye work hard. Ye deserve a homemade meal.”

“Well, I appreciate it all the same.”

“You’re welcome. Goodnight, Claire!”

Claire watched the older woman walk down the drive toward her automobile. It was a split second decision, one Claire had no idea she was making.

“Mrs. Graham!” The other woman paused, hand on her car door handle. “Are you free to babysit tomorrow night?”

[shanie-the-toyaddict]

SO. IN HONOR OF THE NEW YEAR AND 20 YEARS OF THE NEW MILLENNIUM

If, by some weird workings of science fiction and time travel, my 30-Something-Self self had been transported back to 1990′s and replaced my Teenage-Self self in my fandom pursuits, still holding full knowledge of all culture and awareness from my thirties but viewing the 90′s stuff for the first time... (read as “If I had known then what I know now) the following things would have changed.

Xena:

I wouldn’t have doubted the “Subtexters”

In fact, I would have shipped Xena/Gabrielle from day 1.

I still would have loved Joxer, but would never have shipped him with Gab

I would have HATED Ares, but still loved Kev.

I would have bought more merchandise with what little money I had.

I WOULDN’T HAVE TAPED OVER “THE WAY”

I would have spent more time engaging in discourse with other fans, and less time stewing about the show in silence

I wouldn’t have prejudged episodes, and instead watched each episode as it aired, rather than read spoilers and base my opinion on those.

In general, I would have tried to avoid spoilers. 

I would have realized that the boys at my lunch table are hopeless. Don’t discuss Xena with them. Find thyself a lesbian chatroom for that shit instead.

I wouldn’t have laughed at Miss Artiphys.

Regarding Hercules: I wouldn’t have shipped Autolycus with Cupcake. She was better than him, and while he was portrayed as the “Noble Rogue” and such, I would have realized that his using her as a pawn in his schemes was unforgivable, regardless of how hard he fell for her later.

Regarding Xena: Same EXACT thing with Xena/Ares. It would have been a NO GO. It was never my biggest ship then either, but if I had known then what I know now? It would DISGUST me.

BUFFY/ANGEL

I probably wouldn’t have been a fan

I would have realized how toxic the writing was and how horribly it treated its women

I wouldn’t have made excuses for Joss

I wouldn’t have made excuses for Spike (as a character)

I wouldn’t have simply sat back and accepted the death of Tara

In general, I would have realized that Buffy and Angel are horrible and not a suitable substitute for Xena

WWE: 

I really, REALLY hate to say this, but I probably would have been a closet Shane/Test shipper. I just realized this five minutes ago, and it SCARES me.

I would have appreciated Stephanie’s character for the HBIC she was. Stephanie’s acting may not have been the best (I guess it coming naturally runs with the men in her family) but I would have supported her CHARACTER to the ends of the fucking EARTH for her refusal to be confined by her position as “Daddy’s Little Girl” and her running her own family off TV and being, again, HBIC in their place.

I would have loved Ivory, Molly, and Luna even more than ever, and despised Sable with the burning passion of a million suns

I would have spent more time appreciating the beauty of women like Chyna and Jazz.

I would have appreciated Rico for the icon he was.

Billy and Chuck, however, would have HORRIFIED me

As would HLA. (If you don’t know what that is, DO NOT look it up. I am BEGGING you)

I would have found Mae Young giving birth to a hand completely WRONG for an entirely different set of reasons.

Katie Vick wouldn’t have offended me as much as the constant body shaming of much of the “Diva’s Division” (UGH DO NOT EVEN...)

I would have been able to objectively protest the pillow fights and bra and panty matches, while still appreciating the beauty of the women involved. 

I wouldn’t have faulted Chyna for doing playboy OR porn.

I would have been extremely upset by Shawn Michaels misgendering Nicole Bass, a humiliation that led to her leaving the company.

I would have been far more supportive of Trish Stratus and realized that you can be BOTH beautiful AND badass.

I would have watched ECW and WCW as well. (Not specifically a WWE thing, but it needs said.)

I wouldn’t have hated on Lita for her finisher. Yes, it was a really REALLY dangerous version of the move, and yes she did EVENTUALLY break her neck over it, but you know, it isn’t my place to judge that shit, so just sit back and appreciate the effort she is making, K?

I would have bought more DVDs and Merch in general

I would have held on tighter to the shit I DID have.

I wouldn’t have been turned off by the slashers in the DX crowd. 

Hell, I likely would have been one of them.

I wouldn’t have flipped my shit over HALF the stuff Shane was doing, especially if I had somehow had prior knowledge over how INSANE his shit would later become.

Speaking of which, I would still love Shane McMahon with every fiber of my being. That would NOT change. What would change? I would be an even BIGGER AND BETTER fan.

I wouldn’t have stopped watching after the Car Battery Bullshit. I would have just accepted it as “Sometimes bad writing happens to good characters” and moved on.

I would acknowledge his status as a human fucking BEING much earlier and, while still loving him unconditionally, wouldn’t have put him on a pedestal and allowed his existence to rule my entire life.

I would have gone to that house show in Toledo he was main eventing.

Having maintained my status as a fan, I would have also attended the episode of RAW from Toledo in 2006 (?) and sat my happy ass at RINGSIDE.

I would have written actual, COHERENT fan-mail, back in the days when he would still answer it personally.

I wouldn’t have celebrated January 15th as a holiday. (Among other reasons, apparently, Shane doesn’t like birthdays? I didn’t know.)

I would have TAPED LIVEWIRE (every damn episode with Marissa)

I would have avoided some of the most dumbass and idiotic stuff I did as a fan of his, including cosplaying as him at WWFNY

I also wouldn’t have cosplayed as his sister to school. While I appreciate her BBE, pleather tightpants have NO PLACE IN A PUBLIC SCHOOL.

I probably would have just accepted that there is a time and a place for the Shane-O-Shuffle, and while I wouldn’t have stopped doing it completely, it wouldn’t have been my damn IDLE ANIMATION.

At the same time, I would make ZERO apologies for people who hated when I DID break that shit out

I would have taken a massive amount of offense every time someone told Shane (on camera or off) to “Switch to Decaf”, as well as likely pointed out to people who said that shit IRL that “No, you want him to calm down? GIVE HIM THE CAFFEINE” knowing full well what caffeine does to ADHD people. 

The one or two times someone came up to me while I was watching and commented about “Is he off his meds?” I WOULD HAVE SMASHED TEETH

Basically, I would have been EXTREMELY protective of him regarding his ADHD and it would have been a MASSIVE berzerk button of mine, rather than just a point of interest and amusement.

These are just the things that I can think of off the top of my head. I know I like to go off on these long introspective tangents, but as it IS the end of the decade, and somehow, my fandom interests in 2020 are looking ODDLY similar to those from 2000, I thought I would make this list.

So here you all go. This is mostly for me, but yinz guyz get to see it too.