#like “we have actual cases of abuse to be working on right now” FUCK OFF i cant wait to be an adult

[cloudbrooksblog]

I found a few screenshots from when we had to make a slideshow presentation in order to convince our "mother" to let us be vaccinated for COVID-19. I thought they were funny, especially the later two. You have to put yourself in the mind of a clickbait youtuber in order to keep the attention of conspiracy theorists.

The goal was to convince her the side effects of the vaccine were better than a lonely death by COVID. 2023 and I find myself needing to pull teeth with her in order to get boosters. I can't wait to be 18, even if jobs and taxes are bad or whatever.

[cringefailvox]

overlord husk aus are very interesting to me in part because they present such a radically different vision of the huskerdust dynamic that is very compelling to me. present-day husk and angel are exhausted. these are people genuinely at rock bottom, who have been so worn down and chipped away at by the long, dragging stalemate of their circumstances that they have nothing left to give but their bare minimum selves. which is okay, and it's enough for them; a lot of what makes their dynamic so interesting is that it's about two people at their lowest rediscovering what it feels like to not be alone down there, to even begin thinking about the possibility of climbing out of the deep dark hole they've made their peace with now that they won't be doing it by themselves.

in contrast, overlord husk aus imagine a version of husk and angel before they were losers together. they imagine versions of them that haven't been beaten down all the way just yet: husk at the height of his greed and power and reckless addictions, angel riding the high of his stardom while adamantly refusing to peel back the surface and acknowledge the rot. both of them still digging the hole and saying to themselves, "i've got a ladder, i'm not going to get stuck. i can always climb back out."

and having these two meet at this stage in their lives, i think they would really, really not make each other better. husk's consideration for the souls on his chain had to have been close to zero for him to use them as gambling chips the way he did, especially the recklessly self-destructive way he did that ended with his own soul in alastor's pocket. and i imagine that for a long time, angel lived in total willful denial about val's escalating abuse and the toll his increasingly demanding job was taking on him, because acknowledging it would be tantamount to making it real, making it something that could actually hurt him and not just be rationalized away, and so of course he'd put off doing that for as long as he could.

if husk had actually won angel's soul, it wouldn't have been any different from all the other people he traded back and forth across his table just for the illicit thrill of the game. angel probably would've had a whole sunk-cost freakout about it (what was the point of all that pain and suffering and lack of autonomy if all the consequences are coming from a stranger now and not val? when it isn't personal? and now he can't even claim a little bit of power back by saying he chose it, because he didn't.) angel knows full well what it looks like when someone is going to kill themselves with their addictions, but what obligation does he have to the guy who would just as quick give him up to somebody else if it gave him an adrenaline rush? nothing, that's what, and he has enough of his own problems anyway.

crucially, they're both INCREDIBLY self-absorbed. not even in a conceited or vain way, but just in that they're so wrapped up in their own mess that they can't see beyond it, they don't have any space for empathy, and furthermore, they have no reason to even try.

it's why the version of their dynamic we get in canon works so well—they're in the same place now, at just the right time to finally start opening up their worlds to how they affect other people (angel watching charlie interact with val at the studio; husk being forced by alastor to engage with the hotel's residents as the bartender). there's space for empathy in their lives now, because they've finally been brought so low that they can't hide anymore, can't look away, can't deny how completely and totally fucked they are. it's a kind of brutal honesty that can only really come from confronting your absolute worst-case scenario. but for them to even begin connecting with each other in any authentic sense, they needed to have the ladder taken away so they could finally bring themselves to stop digging, look up, and realize there's been someone down here with them all along.

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

The C person is not even worth the trouble for him

Unlike Syd

So are we now finally ready to address the fact that when Carmen Berzatto REALLY LOVES SOMEONE and that person hurts him or disappoints him, he either lashes out walk-in style

OR cuts them off, puts distance between them, he doesn’t really fight back.

(Michael-Donna-his father whom he never tried to find or reconnect with, I’m sure there are more ppl we don’t even know about).

BUT

when he really loves someone and HE is the one who disappoints or hurts the other person or fucks up bad, he tries to make it up in the best way HE CONSIDERS fair (Syd, Sugar, Pete, Richie)

The good news is:

The C person doesn’t fall in either category because HE fucked up and HE didn’t try to make it up to her in any way, shape, or form, he cut her off.

SO

That can only mean 3 things coming from him:

1- He doesn’t love her therefore he doesn’t feel is necessary to make it up to her, even though he feels guilty about the whole thing, she’s not enough of a priority for him, hence: he doesn’t even bother in repairing that relationship, even though he’s fully aware HE fucked up.

OR

2- He doesn’t even feel he fucked up at all, he actually deep down thinks he did the right thing, he’s only PARTIALLY sorry about the whole thing, he’s absolutely NOT sorry about what he did, said, chose, etc. He’s ONLY sorry about C getting hurt as a result, but then again, since she’s NOT that much of a priority to him and he does have more important things to do like getting a star for Syd to make it up to her for having failed her repeatedly and having left her alone, etc, which ARE indeed his priorities, then he just keeps putting the whole apology to C in the back burner and kinda hopes it eventually dilutes in time… like a “I’ll deny it till it goes away bc she moved on and what’s the point of apologizing now anyway…” kinda thing.

OR

3- A combination of both <— my pick.

He will have to grow at some point and understand it just doesn’t work like this. That he can’t keep on cutting people out of his life because he’ll wind up alone. That he can’t be his own judge and choose his own sentence when he commits a crime and that nothing he just buries deep down inside, actually goes away just because he chooses not to address it.

And I think that the lesson this fucker taught him:

by breaking him and making him realize that he’s actually better than his abuser. (Carmy is a better person than that asshole even as fucked as he is) Is actually one of the tools he needed to turn this whole thing around and reach that level of maturity he’s lacking and therefore make a real change after he overcomes this crisis he’s going through.

I already addressed his immaturity here:

The other tool is that Sydney keeps believing in him. He cannot lose that, not totally, he has to continue counting on her for motivation, she’s the heart of his whole support system.

And Syd needs her own support system too, which in her case is now expanding. It’s no longer just her father. Everything she can't let go of is now her support system, her found family. They are bound already, whether she likes it or not.

So I’m sure they will be OK. I’m just sorry that trauma is the way Storer chose to go about it. There were easier ways.

But since the whole plot is based on their real lives, as I mentioned here, trauma it is.

S4 is gonna be glorious!

Carmy has already reached the breaking point this season:

but S4 is gonna be THE TURNING POINT.

[beelzeballing]

actually i dont think ive posted my thoughts on ofmd s2 overall here yet have i?

ok here goes: i think it had incredibly high highs, and at some parts i genuinely enjoyed it more than i did the first season, episode 6 being peak imo. however, it had equally abysmal lows with some glaring writing-, tone- and pacing issues that all came to a head in the finale.

i once read someone say that, if you ever feel like a finale ruined the whole story, maybe you should take another look at the story. there were most likely cracks and problems all along, and the finale did nothing besides dashing the hope that these would perhaps be addressed later. very rarely do genuinely well written stories go completely off the rails in the finale and ruin the whole thing.

i think this is applicable here in some ways, SPECIFICALLY in regards to edward. good god edward was a MESS this season, and it's so sad because i loved the starting point! the kraken era was absolutely terrifying and iconic as FUCK but... they shouldn't have leaned so hard into the drama and trauma of it all. don't get me wrong, i loved that it did. it's one of my favorite parts of the season and i'm so glad we got it. but if they wanted this arc to work with the overarching plot as they wrote it, they would've had to lighten up the tone here CONSIDERABLY. had they played the kraken era for comedy then sure! edward's bad youtuber apology would've been funny. his fast redemption would've been less jarring. the lack of consequences less disturbing. but as it stands in the show, this arc is too dark to function with the later episodes.

i feel like they wanted to have their cake and eat it too here. they wanted the gritty drama of ed coming off the hinges entirely but also didn't want to deal with the aftermath of such a heavy arc in their silly pirate romcom. be that due to time constraints and budget cuts or because they were simply unwilling to, doesn't really matter in the end. the result is the same either way: a very tonally messy season with some accidentally troubling implications regarding abuse.

and mentioning troubling implications regarding abuse; izzy. my poor, poor izzy... his arc was absolutely glorious. i liked izzy the second he showed up in s1 and i was absolutely EATING this season up in that regard. and i think in this case, they genuinely did fuck it all up in the finale with that one stupid choice:

choosing to kill izzy was the DUMBEST thing they couldve done here.

ive talked about this over and over and over again. ive reblogged so many meta posts. and still i am left absolutely flabbergasted by how stupid of a decision this was. the fridging, playing at the fallen woman trope, killing the beating heart of the season and the character who delivers what is essentially a thesis statement, killing off the character whose arc is about coming to terms with his disability, having him die in edward's arms, comforting him and apologizing after an entire season of finding community and love outside of edward, the absolutely godawful pacing of it all, the extremely easy and obvious solution of just having IZZY become the new captain of the revenge to mirror s1 and hammer home how much he has developed since then in one go... i could go on. and i have. it was a stupid writing decision, completely fucked the tone and pacing of the finale and took away attention and time from things that really would've deserved a better wrap up (lucius and black pete deserved better)

now. the whole prince ricky & zheng plot line... yeah that shit sucked ass, sorry. they bit off more than they could chew here. i honestly think those are the arc words of this season:

✨️ bit off more than they could chew ✨️

right off the bat: i think he was good as a concept. bringing in a foil for stede who just doesn't Get It as stede does could've made for very good comedy and drama (and to be fair there is some of that). but that shit got away from them extremely quickly. nothing about how he's implemented past his first episode works, and i think this is very specifically because he's mostly played as the comic relief in his debut episode. making this completely bumbling fool, who gets his nose hacked off on his first job, the main villain of your entire season is... definitely a choice. idk. he didn't work for me at all.

ok wow mentioning shit getting away from the writers. this definitely got away from me. this was supposed to be a short lil post. well. i guess tl;dr i loved this season but jesus christ there was a lot wrong with it. if you want to hear more thoughts. ask box is open. be my guest. i have more to say so even if you dont ask i might add more to this at some point but im tired and have work tmrw.

[mrsevans90]

Puppy Love

Captain Syverson x OFC Emma Miller Part 6

Summary: Austin Syverson has returned to Texas after retiring from the military and starts his own contracting business. Syverson is used to being alone and thinks he prefers it that way. While at work he stumbles upon an injured and abused puppy. When he meets the new veterinarian in town, Emma Miller, he is immediately smitten with her. It turns out Emma has some baggage of her own. Will they be able to make it work? Or is it just a case of fleeting puppy love?

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Emma Miller 

Warnings: Smut and drama, ex-boyfriend breaking restraining order, protective Sy, language.

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own. 

This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading! 

Part 5

I’m half asleep, half-awake when I feel movement across my chest. I’m still too deep to realize it might be a threat before I feel gentle lips press against my stomach and I groan. My groan brought me closer towards consciousness and I opened my eyes with a start to see Emma’s beautiful blues staring right back at me from my stomach. I relax as I watch her press gentle kisses across my abs as she makes her way lower. Her body is hidden by the sheet but still accentuated her ass up in the air. She reaches for my morning wood and looks at me for permission. I sleepily nod at her and she immediately engulfs my cock into her mouth.

“Fucking shit, sugar.” I rasp, my voice laced with sleep as I wrap my hands in her hair. She creates the perfect pace as she bobs up and down before she gags on my cock. I bite my fist so that I can gather my wits without screaming the place down. With one hand on my shaft, the other around my nuts, she continues working on me and just a few minutes later I’m spurting my seed right down her throat. She swallows greedily and sucks me thoroughly through my release until the oversensitivity has me spasming. She kisses her way back up my body only to lay against me and place a kiss on my lips. 

“Good morning.” She says sweetly.

“It sure as hell is now. You sure know how to wake me up.” 

“I was hungry and needed my breakfast.” She whispers seductively and I flip over on top of her.

“Well, I’m starving so if you don’t mind, I’d like some more of that peach I tried last night.” I say before I make my way down her body and gaze upon her perfect pussy.

“I can’t believe you actually like eating women out.” She whispers.

“Wrong, I love eating YOU out. You are my favorite dessert. Now let me get to it, sugar.” She squeals as I dive right in. I nurse off of her clit and slide two fingers in and in no time at all Emma is moaning and squirming. 

“Fucking hell, Austin. I’m gonna cum!” She shouts as she grinds against my tongue. I hold her hips still as I work her towards her release. She cums exuberantly with a moan and her essence soaks my face with the most sensual taste. We lay back and I pull Emma into my arms. 

“You’re unreal at that. Like you should write a book so that all the men in the world can learn to do that.” She says and I chuckle.

“Why would I give away trade secrets? I had to learn these techniques on my own. That’s like giving away a recipe that’s been in your family for years.”

“But at the expense of women’s pleasure all around the world.” She tries to convince me. 

“You’re one to talk. You’re quite skilled in the oral sex department as well.” I say and she blushes bright red. 

“What time is it anyway?” I ask.

“A little after eight. Got somewhere to be?” I blanche. 

“Seriously? It’s that late? I don’t have anywhere to be but I don’t think I’ve slept past 6:30am since I was in high school. Army kinda breaks that habit but you musta really wore me out.”

 “I’m glad you slept so well. Seemed like you needed it but I couldn’t hold myself back any longer.”

“Mmm. You can always wake me up like that, Sugar. I better get up and take Mills out. I bet he’s gotta whiz like a race horse. ” 

Emma giggles. “I already took him out. I had to pee so I took Aika and Mills out after and then came back to wake you up.”

“You went outside naked?”

“No! I grabbed one of your t-shirts.” She tilted her head in the direction of my dresser.

“Now that’s a sight I’d like to see. C’mon woman, let me make ya some breakfast.” I tell her with a light smack to her ass.

She climbs out of bed and I watch her saunter towards me as I open my underwear drawer and throw on a pair of boxers. She reaches past me, grabs herself a pair of my boxers before throwing on my favorite red DILLIGAF shirt. Those letters have never looked so good as they do now spread across her voluptuous tits. It’s so large on her that it covers her ass and you can’t even tell she has boxer shorts on under it. She runs her fingertips down my pecs and abs while gently scratching before she turns and heads down the stairs. I’m hot on her tail as I quickly lift her up bridal style and set her on the countertop. I start grabbing the ingredients that I’ll need for eggs, bacon, and biscuits. Emma turns around behind her and starts making coffee.

“Your grandma lets you make canned biscuits?” She chuckles and I smirk. 

“She never taught me how to make homemade ones. Plus, that would take way too long. The canned ones are good.” 

“Okay, I’ll agree that the canned ones are yummy but they’ve got nothing on my homemade ones. I doubt you have everything I need, but next time I’ll make some.” 

“Next time, huh? How presumptuous.” I tut.

“Shut up.” She playfully kicks at my butt and I arch my eyebrow at her. Emma works on readying the biscuits for the oven and when the coffee brews, she pours us both a cup. I smile at the domesticity that engulfs us at this moment.

We eat our breakfast in comfortable conversation and I still can’t believe how well I slept. I feel more rested than I have in months.

“What would you be doing if I wasn’t here right now?” Emma brought me from my thoughts.

“Honestly, I’d probably be working out, or I’d be building something on the property. I might be out in the woods with the dogs.” 

“Well, don’t let me stop you.” She replied.

“Trust me Sugar, I don’t have any intentions of letting you out of my sight.” 

“How about you run me back to my place so I can get a change of clothes and then we can take the dogs on a walk?”

“I don’t know that I want to take you back to your place for clothes. I like you just in this.” I reply with a smirk.

“I can’t walk around in just your shirt, mister.” 

“I’d love that, actually.”

“Oh, you’d like other people looking at me practically naked?” I grumble an “over my dead body” before looking back at her.

“Well, let’s go get you some clothes and take these pups on a hike. I wanna take a look at that hot water heater and sink when I get over there though.” She looks at me and arches an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m going to see what needs to be fixed while you get yourself dressed. Pack yourself a little bag and I’ll bring you home Sunday night.” I tell her and she smiles and nods. I suddenly remember I’m supposed to head over for lunch at Nana’s on Sunday. “It may be really weird to ask this or way too soon, but would ya like to come with me to lunch at my grandparent’s house Sunday?” I ask her. 

“Are you sure they wouldn’t mind? I don’t want to intrude on family time.” She replies.

“My nana would be happier than a pig in sunshine, Sugar. She’s been wanting to meet the new vet in town.” I tell her truthfully.

“They won’t think it’s weird that you’re bringing me though? I mean, we’ve technically only had two dates.” Emma admonishes.

“My nana may be a bit nosy, but they respect the fact that I’m grown and am gonna do what I want to. If anything, she’ll likely try and convince me to put a ring on your finger the second she meets you.” I chuckle. “That woman has been asking for me to give her great grandkids since I was 21. I swear at this point she’d be okay with me getting someone pregnant outta wedlock just so she can have some grandbabies. She don’t mean any harm by it though, so don’t worry.”  

“Well, maybe one day she’ll get her wish. For now, I hope she’ll be okay with you introducing me as your friend.” We get dressed, Emma putting on her clothes from last night, and load up in my truck with the dogs in the backseat to head toward her home. When we get there, we get inside and I take a look around. The house is decorated somewhat plainly and mostly white and grey with little hints of teal blue throughout. I spot teal throw pillows on the couch, a blue painting on the wall, blue utensil canister in the kitchen. It’s understated, simple and clean, and like it.

“Point me in the direction of the water heater, Sugar.” She leads me to the laundry room and shows me the water heater.

“I’m going to be in my bedroom changing, if you need me.” 

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Darlin’. I gotta take a look at this water heater.” I smirk and pat her ass as she walks off, the two dogs hot on her trail. Aika is very interested in smelling her new surroundings and Mills just seems happy to be included. I chuckle as I watch him clumsily trail down the hallway, goofy little thing.

The water heater is old, but seems to be in working condition. I turn up the heat dial on the water heater since I think it’s too low to see if that helps her not run out of hot water and make my way to the kitchen sink. She said it was working a little funny so I take a look at it. It doesn’t drain correctly at all and see that she’s bought some drano to try and release whatever’s clogging it. I’d bet my last paycheck that the previous owner poured grease down the sink and that’s the problem. People oughta know better. I can come back with a drain snake but I’ll likely have to replace the pipes underneath to clear out whatever is clogging the p-trap. While I’m looking at the sink, I hear somebody knocking loudly on the door.

“Sy? Can you get that?” I hear Emma ask from what I assume is her bedroom. Hopefully I can see that room before we leave. 

“Sure, darlin’.”

“Emma? Are you in there?” I hear someone yell with another round of knocks as I slowly stand up and make my way to the door. Aika makes her way directly to me on high alert. She seemed to be more alert simply because of the new surroundings, but her demeanor now shows she’s on guard.

I halfway open the door to see a man with brown slicked back hair, and dressed somewhat preppy in a button up and slacks that look a bit too small. I immediately get a douche vibe from this guy who looks at me with a mixture of shock and an air of uppity disdain. 

“Can I help you?” I ask the stranger.

“Oh, I thought this was Emma Miller’s address. I must have been told wrong... but wait, that’s her jeep in the driveway. Who are you?”

“I’m Sy, but I think I should be askin’ who you are.” I arch my eyebrow at him.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He mutters under his breath with an eye roll. “Oh, um. I’m Colin. Is Emma here?” My stare hardens. Colin… is this the ex boyfriend? Seriously?

“Sy? I’m ready! Who’s at the door?” I hear Emma come around the corner toward the hallway in her hiking outfit and instinctively close the door a bit more so Colin can’t see her. 

“One moment.” I tell the guy who looks beyond irritated that I’m not the 5’6” blonde he was hoping for.

“Remind me sugar, don’t you have a restraining order on that douche bag ex of yours?” I mutter lowly so he can’t hear.

“…yeah, why?”

“Might wanna call the cops and add stalking to the charges.” I murmur back to her.

“EMMA!” Colin yells and pushes hard against the now cracked door that I have my foot pressed against to stop it from opening. The door barely budges.

Emma steps back with a panicked look. “What the fuck is he doing here? How did he find out where I live?” She whispered, her eyes wide as saucers. 

“Emma, just let me talk to you and then I’ll leave. I just need you to hear me out. Five minutes, I swear.” Colin bellows from the door.

“You need to step back.” I grunt murderously and push the door shut throwing the lock on it. Colin immediately begins yelling Emma’s name and banging on the door.

“The rest of the doors and windows locked?” I ask and she nods. The poor thing looks petrified.

“Want me to get rid of him?” I ask her gruffly.

“I… I can’t even think. Should I call the cops? I don’t want him in my house. I can’t believe he showed up here. I don’t know how he even found me. What if he shows up again and I’m alone?” I hear her ask more to herself than to me. I reach for her shaking hands that she now has framing her face in shock.

“Baby, I’m not going to let anything happen to you. You know that, right? Trust me? My cousin is a police officer, I’ll send him a text and have him come out. If you want to listen to him, it seems like now’s a good time while I’m here and Walt on his way. It’ll at least keep him here until the cops show up.” Colin bangs on the door again startling Emma. I look down at my phone and send Walt a text with an SOS and Emma’s address. I wait a moment and Walt responds with an “omw” text. Thank God for Walt. I need to buy him a round next time we go out.

“You don’t have to worry. I can get rid of him and you don’t have to see him or say a word if you want. You are safe, Sugar.” I tell her and kiss her temple. Emma wraps her arms around me and I can hear her heart racing.

“I guess I’ll see what he wants. I wouldn’t put it past him to show back up when you’re not here. Don’t leave me?” She asks nervously. 

“Not a chance, darlin’.” I wait a moment and open the door and Colin steps back as I push my way towards him trying to look over my shoulder at Emma and we walk on the front porch with her angled behind me. 

“Emma, just let me explain myself. Do you mind?” He looks at me and scoffs. “I sure do. Say what you need to say before I kick your sorry ass all the way back to Bama.” He sneers at me before ignoring me and looking at Emma.

“Listen, Scarlett and I are done. We broke up and I realized I was wrong. I want you back, baby.” Emma scoffs.

“Not a chance in hell, Colin. You’ve made your bed and now you can lay in it. Is that all?” I watch Emma out of the corner of my eye as I stand firmly in front of Colin. I cross my arms across my chest and flex my biceps just to make my muscles that much more menacing.

“Don’t do this. I still love you and I know you still love me. Just give me another chance. We can even buy a house and get married like you always wanted.”

“Oh, Colin, how generous of you.” Emma states with pure sarcasm. “Leaving your mistress to finally commit to me after cheating on me repeatedly and without shame for months while I worked tirelessly to repair our relationship. You’re practically prince charming.” She sneers. “You tried to convince me that I was crazy for suspecting something was going on when in reality, I was right. How dare you show up to my new life and think you have any business even being in my presence. You hurt me not just emotionally, but physically. You are pathetic and I regret every moment spent with you. I now know what it feels like to be valued and appreciated, and I never want to see you again. Go home. Go back to Scarlett or whatever other tramp you find and wallow in your unhappiness. Leave me alone.” I feel the pride for Emma radiate from my body. I can tell that she has been bottling this up for who knows how long and I hope she feels relief at finally getting to say her peace.

“I know you’re angry, but you’re talking crazy. I took you on romantic vacations and dates and treated you so well. You can’t tell me you regret all of the good times we had. We’ve known each other our whole lives and I’m not allowed one mistake? Besides, you were working late and never home. You were neglecting me and our relationship. You’re really going to throw away the history that we have for some meathead like this?” Colin says while pointing his thumb at me and I growl deep inside my chest. He can say whatever he wants to me but I will not allow him to say anything else patronizing to her.

Emma stands straighter. “He is more of a man than you’ll ever be. And, just for your information, I’m doing just fine on my own. I don’t need or want you in my life. I’m happier now than I ever have been.”

I see Walter’s truck rounding the corner followed by a squad car with its lights on but no sirens and breathe a sigh of relief. I could easily take this fucker if I needed too, but I’d rather let the law handle it. 

“You called the cops on me again, you stupid bitch?” Colin screams when he sees the lights coming toward him. Emma immediately steps back and I lurch in front of her. I’ve easily got about three inches of height and at least thirty pounds of muscle on this guy, and I almost dare him to throw the first punch. I’d love to smash this fucker to the ground.

My fists are so tight that my knuckles are white as I look him in the eyes and with my Captain’s voice. “Don’t you dare fucking speak to her like that again. You’re the one breaking the law by being here.” I growl and Walt comes flying over to me. The cop he brought with him, Justin, is also someone I’ve known my whole life. Justin immediately grabs Colin and pulls him toward the cop car to question him. I can hear Colin’s whiny voice immediately lying and saying that Emma invited him here to talk and I was interrupting.

“Walt.” I grit through my tense jaw in greeting to my cousin who is looking at Emma and then back at me. Walt responds with a stern nod before looking to Emma.

“I’m Walter Marshall.” He greets Emma and shakes her hand and she introduces herself.

“I’m so sorry you’ve had to come out here.” She apologizes.

“It’s not a problem. Tell me what’s going on?” 

“That’s my ex-boyfriend, Colin Wright. I had to get a restraining order from him in Alabama before I moved out here. He got violent with me several months ago when I changed the locks on my apartment and the police were called. I don’t know how he found me, but he just showed up at my house. I’ve only lived here for about a month and he shouldn’t know where I live. My parents and best friend are the only ones who should have my address. His uncle is an officer in Alabama and got him out of trouble last time.”

“Okay, do you have the restraining order with you? I’d like to look it over but it should still apply. Violating a restraining order is a class A misdemeanor and should be difficult for anyone to get him out of, although it doesn’t constitute much jail time unfortunately.”

Walt follows us inside as Emma retrieves the legal documents to show them to Walter. I’m silently seething as she explains the situation. I relax slightly when I hear Walter tell Justin to read him his rights and book him for violating a protection order. Emma seems so embarrassed even though she has done nothing wrong. I just want to scoop her up and take her back to my house and hold her so that she feels safe again.

“Alright, we’ve arrested him but now that he has your address, I suggest you get some security at your house. An alarm system, video doorbell camera and a few surveillance cameras around the property would be a good idea to keep you from being surprised in the future. If he ever shows back up, call the police. I’ll give you my personal cell phone number as well since you’re Sy’s girl.” Walter tells her.

“Thank you so much, Walter. I’m sorry we had to meet like this but it was nice to meet you.” 

“You too. Sy, you good?” Walter asks.

“Yeah, man. Thanks for running out here before I smacked the guy. Appreciate it.” I tell him as we shake hands and Walter heads back to his truck. As soon as he leaves, Emma stands up and I can see her arms shaking.

“Sugar, you okay?”

“I just… I’m just so frustrated. How did this happen again? This was supposed to be a new start without him around. I don’t know how he found me and I just want to feel safe again. I’m so tired of this shit tainting everywhere I go. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before the town starts gossiping about the new vet’s man trouble.”

I gently place my hands on her shoulders to stop her pacing and pull her towards me. I hold her in my arms tightly and as soon as I do she breaks down. I hold her and rub along her back as the sobs slow down.

“Darlin’ you need to not think about any of that. Who gives a shit what other people think? You’ve done nothing wrong and you’re just trying to live your life. You are safe here, and I’ll do my damnest to show you that. Now, you want to go to my house or you still feel like going on a hike?” I ask and she whispers, “nature might help me calm down” into my neck. “Alright, how about after our hike we go and get you some security stuff for the house. I can install it tonight and we can order some dinner here. That sound okay?” She just nods and I give her a gentle kiss. We load up the dogs in my truck and I take her to one of my favorite trails to walk Aika. It’s not very well known and about half way through there is a stream that runs through it which is a perfect rest spot. I notice Emma seems lost in her thoughts and I just keep quiet. I know she needs time to process everything and I want to be a quiet presence to help her but not overwhelm her. We’d barely spoken by the time we got to the stream and I’m starting to really wonder what’s going on in her mind. I let the dog’s romp around in the shallow water as I point to a large rock to rest on. Emma sits beside me and I wrap my arms around her.

“Penny for your thoughts?” I ask.

“Oh gosh, just trying to process what just happened. I’m sorry I’m so complicated. You were probably just looking for something easy and fun and I’m just a mess with a ton of baggage.” She places her head in her hands and chuckles without humor.

“Sugar, I got more baggage than you could imagine. You’re not complicated, you’re just human with human problems. If I was looking for something easy, I would’ve fucked and ducked, but I’m not interested in that. I’ve had my share of one-night stands but you…darlin’ you are different in the best way.” 

Part 7

Taglist: @shellyshellshell @henryownsme @caramariehurst @beck07990 @mollymal@kingliam2019@syversonswife@identity2212@starfirewildheart@hannah9921@wa-ni@kneelforloki@cutedoxie@enchantedbytomandhenry @foxyjwls007@geralts-yenn@courtlynwriter @corrie1013 @squeezyvalkyrie@summersong69 @livisss @mayloma

[ryuzakemo128]

A letter for you

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x you, female reader

Content Warning: SA mentioned. Implied verbal abuse. Manipulation. The whole nine yards of deep and dark. Toxic parents.

Words: 623

Masterlist

Divider Credit: @cafekitsune

Note: Sequel to the headcanons.

You had to do it, didn’t you? You just had to do this shit to me. Even though you were having a taste of your own medicine. You had to make yourself into a martyred victim of some kind. Don’t try to deny it. I know for a fact you’re sitting there, reading this letter with a cocky smirk or grin, thinking, ‘I have him where I want him.’ No you don’t. You will get nothing from me.

Ever.

I heard you were running your mouth again. Saying shit about me behind my back. You wanted a reaction so badly to make yourself into an angel from the soul of an endless devil, I won’t fall to my knees and beg for you to come back. Crafting an angel from your bones when we all know you’re unfit to become one of your own accord.

I have grown since I left you. I have grown since I told you to leave my fucking apartment. Don’t lie about shit when you can’t help but suck cock while I’m gone. Don’t spin the truth like the records you trashed one afternoon, lying about it being a mistake.

You made vile comments about my past as a sexual assault victim. You made me hate myself more than I ever did. Fuck you and the horse you ride on. Or in your case cock.

Not only that, but you lied when you said you stopped seeing him.

Not only that, but you are a natural-born snake. A liar. A thief. I only just managed to steal back my heart you took from me when we first met.

I haven’t decided whether I want to forgive you. Maybe I’ll decide that forgiving you isn’t worth it. Maybe I shouldn’t forgive you anyway. Forgiveness is too good for you. You didn’t work to earn it. You didn’t bleed for it. Furthermore, you didn't sweat hard for it. You did nothing to get the right to be given it. I don’t want to hear more excuses, and for once in your life fix your god-damn plumbing issue with your shitty second toilet.

Come find me when you’re done fucking up the people around you. Come see me when you want to learn to grow the fuck-up and deal with the real world. As I have. As the rest of people down here. Until then, stay the fuck away from me.

Until you realise you are the cause of your own mistakes. I can’t take you back. I can’t risk my heart getting torn to pieces. My patience with you has officially ended, and my claws are about to come out. You have fucked with the wrong person. Don’t mistake this letter for a last kiss or last hurrah. I don’t have time to fucking deal with your mistakes. Fix them yourself, you petulant fucking child.

Go to therapy.

Make better life choices.

Actually, live a life instead of coasting along with whoever’s dick is inside of you right now. It won’t fix your so called ‘personality’. People will eventually get tired of your shit and leave you behind.

Fix your fucking front door lock. It’s loose and someone could easily break in to steal your shit. Fix it.

Instead of blaming your exes for leaving you. Question as to why they left you to begin with. Have some self-respect, woman, and look inward instead of outward.

Cut off your toxic parents. They don’t actually care about you, they just want to lord over you and insult your choices. Cut them out. Go no contact with them. Block their numbers, block them on social media. You don’t need them in the same way they need you. Cut off your toxic parents.

What we deserve and what we get are two different things.

Yours, in annoyed yet carefree, pleasant solitude, Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

[delicateflowerss]

Don't Worry, Darling: Three

After marrying the love of your life, Rafe Cameron, you thought you couldn't be happier. But when a murder shakes the island, you learn you don't know your husband as well as you thought. When does Paradise become Hell?

Warnings: 18+, eventual NON-CON, verbal/domestic abuse, dark!Rafe, mentions of murder, mentions of pregnancy/having kids, kook!reader, non-canon ages

Word Count: 3.9k

Series Masterlist

“So, let’s go over that again. You left the office around 11:30, correct?”

Shoupe’s stare is set on Rafe, almost like he’s waiting for your husband to blink at him wrong, anything to show he isn’t telling the truth.

“It was around that time. I don’t remember exactly.”

You can tell Rafe is fighting the urge to tell the police to fuck off, given the heavy annoyance lacing his tone. You worry he might, his impulse control only lasting so long.

Their incessant questions don’t help, going over every detail of the night Rafe last saw Chase alive.

It’s a strong case of déjà vu for you, Shoupe and the same officer as last time, sitting in the exact same spot on your couch. Except, you can feel the gravity of the situation now. A man you know has been killed.

“And nothing struck you as odd about Chase that night? All he said was bye as he was leaving?”

“That’s all I remember. How many times do I have to tell you I barely saw him that night?”

Whatever Rafe was holding back, he isn’t anymore, his anger getting the best of him. It doesn’t sit right with either officer, their meaningful glances toward each other telling you more than they’ll ever say.

As your eyes rake over your husband, you don’t know why he seems nervous, unable to stop the shake in his leg.

You reach your hand out, the denim of his pants rough under your skin as you stop the uneasy movement.

“I think what Rafe is trying to say, is he’s answered all of your questions, more than once,” you placate. “You seem to be wanting an answer he just doesn’t have.”

Rafe watches you, an appreciation shining in his eyes that he wouldn’t know how to voice to you.

“We would love to help any way we can. But he’s told you everything he knows.”

Shoupe mulls over your words, seeming almost annoyed that you’re making a good point.

“Fine,” he concedes, looking over both you and Rafe. “But if there’s anything you could possibly think of, you know where to find us,” he adds, standing up.

 “Of course,” you reply, showing them the way out.

“It’s important to us you find whoever did this,” you say, giving Rafe a pointed look, motioning toward the officers, needing him to show his support.

When he spots this, he nods. “Catch this guy before something else happens. Don’t put our tax dollars to waste.”

He keeps his eyes on Shoupe, his mouth fighting a smirk.

You don’t understand the exchange between the two men, Shoupe’s stare also heavy.

“That’s what we’re trying to do,” Shoupe finally retorts after a few tense moments. He’s the first one to look away, nodding toward you. “Have a good day, Mrs. Cameron.”

Once they’re gone, your eyes find your husband, brows pulled together.

“What was that about?” You ask, trying to find an explanation for his rude behavior.

“What?” Now his unpleasant mood is aimed at you, lips parted, brows matching yours, and you almost regret saying anything. “He’s wasting his time with me. He’s wasting my time. He could actually be out there, catching the person who did it.”

You take in his explanation, arms crossed, eyes glancing to the floor before meeting his.

“I get it. But they’re just doing their job,” you explain. “I mean Chase was murdered, Rafe. You know, the guy you used to see at work every day and liked to invite us over for dinner.”

You try to make it clear to him why he should think about someone besides himself.

He swallows at that, now it’s him who can’t meet your gaze.

You sigh, deciding it’s best to drop it. You know how Rafe is, how difficult it is for him to not only process his own emotions, but others as well.

You step closer, your hand finding his by his side, fingers threading together. You feel the cool touch of his gold, signet ring against your warm skin, along with his wedding ring.

He doesn’t move away, and you can’t help but think he looks like a scolded little boy as he finally looks up at you, hair failing into his eyes.

“I know this has been a lot for you,” you start. “You know you can always talk to me. About anything.”

You watch him, hoping he’ll finally open up to you about this whole situation.

Instead, he just nods, his hand falling from yours before he walks to the kitchen, finding his phone.

You have to stop yourself from sighing, showing your disappointment.

“I talked to my dad earlier,” he calls out, walking toward you with his phone in his hand. “He wants us over for dinner on Sunday. Something about wanting everyone together since Sarah’s back for the summer,” he mumbles the last part, and you can tell he’s trying his hardest not to roll his eyes.

“Oh, that should be nice. We haven’t been over there in a while.” You keep your tone optimistic, hoping it will influence his own outlook.

But by the look on Rafe’s face, it’s not working. He seems more distracted than anything else.

“I gotta take this,” he holds his phone up, excusing himself to his office upstairs.

You’re more than aware of Rafe’s strained relationship with his family. Part of you wants to tell him to forget about his father, thinking it would be best for him to release himself from the shackles of desperately vying for his father’s approval.

But you also know that this house didn’t pay for itself. Even if the name Cameron holds weight in certain places, you’d be lying if you said Rafe could get a job anywhere, especially as good as the one he has now.

You thought Rafe having to work for his father could only help the relationship, and it does seem like they’re friendlier to each other, Ward seeing his son as somewhat competent. But the pressure still lies on Rafe to be good enough.

So, all you can do is keep the peace.

Maybe you have your own motives to keep things nice between Rafe and his family. Sometimes, they feel like the only family you have, even if it’s a bit dysfunctional.

You’re an only child, and your parents decided when you moved out that they were going to spend most of their time on vacation, seeing the world they didn’t get to when you were growing up.

Right now, they’re on a Caribbean cruise, the last time you saw them being your wedding.

You miss them, but you don’t really blame them. Maybe you’ll feel the same one day, when your own children are grown up and married.

They were always extremely supportive of your relationship with Rafe, never seeing any issues. Their happiness at the possibility of their daughter marrying into the Cameron’s blinded them.

You’re glad they didn’t see the things you saw because they might not have been as forgiving. You saw firsthand how hard Rafe worked to clean up his addiction, and to stop the tendency to get into fights with Pogues.

But you wonder if they had known, would they have even batted an eye?

JJ doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to sitting in your kitchen. He thinks you’re only pretending not to notice how much he stands out, because you never seem bothered by it. You just smile as you hand him an ice-cold drink. This time, it’s iced tea.

You were folding laundry when you heard JJ slip into the backyard. This time, he didn’t put up a fight, letting you invite him in.

“So,” you say, sitting across from him at the kitchen table. “I heard Sarah’s back for the summer. Is she still with John B?”

“I thought you were her sister-in-law or whatever, wouldn’t you know?” He asks, taking a long sip of his drink.

“Yeah, well, Rafe and Sarah don’t really talk.”

JJ raises his eyebrows, humming, an understanding washing over his face.

“They’re still together. She’s over at The Chateau almost every day now,” he answers.

You smile, nodding. “So, you still see your friends a lot?”

You were pretty removed from the people Sarah started hanging out with during her high school years. They were younger…and they were Pogues. But you cared about her enough to want to know about her friends.

You also knew them for other reasons, ones having to do with a dumb rivalry stemming from your husband’s hatred of Pogues.

You never got to know any of them, talking to John B the most out of all of them.

Until now.

“Yeah. Everyone’s doing their own thing now, but we get together all the time,” he casually says.

“I’m glad to hear that. I remember you all being so close.”

“Hm.” He stops, his brow furrowing. “You remember that before or after we would get the shit kicked out of us by Rafe?”

Your smile falters, eyes finding the surface of the table.

Before you can say anything, he continues, “but he’s different now. So, I should just forget about it.”

Sarcasm drips from his tone, using your own words against you. He raises his eyebrows again, taking another sip, making his point.

“I never said you should forget about it,” you scoff. “I know what Rafe did was wrong. Do you hold what he did against Sarah too?”

“You can’t choose your family,” he shrugs. “I mean she barely talks to him as it is. You married him.” He pauses, blue eyes staring into you. “That means you looked at all that, and thought, I want to be with this guy for the rest of my life.”

He immediately begins to feel bad when you frown. He sighs, realizing he took it too far.

“I’m sorry, okay?” He apologizes bluntly. “You seem nice and all, I just can’t trust someone who’s married to Rafe Cameron,” JJ explains.

“You don’t have to trust me,” you level with him. “And I can apologize for all of Rafe’s wrongdoings over and over again, because I am sorry. But is that really going to make you feel better?”

He looks to his lap, bottom lip between his teeth. He knows you’re being sincere, your eyes genuinely curious.

“You’re right, there’s no point in holding it against you,” he admits quietly.

You nod, taking a moment before saying, “Good, because I actually like talking to you, for some reason,” you add the last part with a smile on your face.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone say that to me before,” he says with a smile, the same joking tone.

You’ve been to Tannyhill more times than you could count, and it never fails to impress you.

Rafe has told you more than once, usually when he has a few drinks in him, that one day it will be “ours.” You think it’s somewhat morbid that he’s waiting for the day his father can’t physically have it anymore. But you also can’t help but feel a glimmer of anticipation about being able to call it yours.

As you walk side by side, you can feel the nervousness radiating off of Rafe, even if he tries his hardest to stamp it down.

You say his name, stopping a few feet from the front door, turning toward him.

He looks at you, a question in his eyes.

Before he can say anything, you bring your hands to his firm chest, smoothing out the black polo shirt he’s wearing. You feel him let out a sigh.

“Babe-.”

You cut him off with a kiss, lashes fluttering against his cheek.

“I just wanted to do that before we went in there,” you quietly say against his lips when you break apart.

You get your satisfaction when his lips turn up into a smile.

But your attention is quickly moved when you hear the door creak open.

“Dad said to get the door,” Wheezie says timidly, eyes shifting around.

You meet Rafe’s eyes again, both of you hiding your laughs.

“Hi, Wheezie,” you greet, walking into the cool air of the house.

You hear Rafe say the same right behind you, shutting the door.

“Are you still taking me shopping before Midsummers?” She doesn’t waste a second to excitedly ask you. “Sarah’s too busy and I’d rather go with you than Rose.”

She grimaces at the mention of her stepmother.

“I’ve been looking forward to it. Why don’t we go sometime this week?”

You don’t notice how Rafe watches you make plans with his little sister, an indescribable emotion swimming in his blue eyes.

“We were wondering when you’d get here,” a booming voice announces.

Ward walks into the room with a grin on his face.

“How you doing, sweetheart?” he asks, pulling you into a hug.

“I’m doing good. Nice to see you, Ward,” you reply, still smiling.

As he steps away from you, you notice how Rafe shifts a little, standing up straighter.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Son,” is all Ward says, patting Rafe on the back, his smile more tight-lipped now.

They share a look, something wordless between them before Ward turns to you.

“Rose is in the kitchen, getting dinner ready. And Sarah should be down soon. I’m just going to borrow Rafe for a few minutes. I hope you don’t mind,” he checks with you, eyebrows raised.

“No, go ahead,” you nod, watching them head toward his office.

“I’ll go see what Sarah’s doing,” Wheezie says, also going upstairs, leaving you to wander into the kitchen.

It’s not uncommon for Ward to pull Rafe aside to have a conversation, usually about work. But the glance they gave each other was tense, a seriousness there that you don’t know the reason for.

“This looks delicious, Rose. You’ll have to give me the recipe,” you comment, staring at the sauce she’s stirring.

“My mother used to make this all the time. One of my favorites,” she remarks before being interrupted by Sarah barreling her way toward you.

“There’s my favorite sister-in-law,” she calls out, wrapping her arms around you.

“I’m your only sister-in-law,” you say, laughing, squeezing her back.

“Well, I still think if you really wanted to see me all the time, you didn’t have to marry Rafe to do it.” Amusement dances on her lips. “You could’ve saved yourself a lot of trouble,” she says, trying not to burst out laughing.

“What? You mean, I didn’t have to do that.” Your tone matches hers, and she’s the first one to laugh as you step away from the heat of the kitchen.

“So, tell me all about your first year at UNC?” You ask, eyes on her.

“It was good,” she says with a lack of truthfulness, her furrowed brow giving her away.

“Are you sure?”

She shakes her head, looking around to make sure she’s out of Rose’s earshot.

“I don’t know. I’m just not sure if college is for me,” Sarah says quietly. You nod and she continues, “I just would rather be doing something else with my life. Not being stuck in a classroom with a bunch of other rich kids who are just going to end up working for their fathers.”

You raise your eyebrows, the implication of her words not lost on you.

“Sorry,” she draws back. “That was harsh.”

“No, I get it. You want something different.”

“Yeah. And I want to be with people I actually like.”

“Like John B?”

An involuntary smile makes her lips twitch as she looks down, her cheeks turning rosy.

“Yes, like John B,” she admits, not fighting her smile anymore. “And before you say anything, I know what it sounds like,” she pauses, staring directly at you. “But I won’t be dropping out of college for a boy. It’s for a lot of reasons.”

“I mean, even if that were the case. I can’t really judge you, can I?” You ask, thinking of your own past, and how picking a school was completely dependent on Rafe. “I think you should do what makes you happy.”

“Can you explain that to my dad now?” She jokes, but her smile is appreciative, like it’s all she needed to hear.

Rafe didn’t say much by the time he came back from his dad’s office, just sitting down for dinner like everyone else. You want to ask him about it, but you know it’s best to let him tell you first.

You all eat under incandescent lighting from the chandelier, shining off the silverware and fine china. There has been slight small talk, but things shift when Ward clears his throat from the head of the table, setting down his fork.

“I just want to say, how grateful I am to have the whole family here, together. The year’s not even close to over, and I don’t know if I can express how proud I am.”

Emotion seeps through his words as his eyes rake over the table, everyone intently listens.

“Sarah just completed her first year at college, with straight A’s,” he adds, his smile only growing bigger. Sarah returns the expression, but you can see the slight insincerity to it.

“We also, officially, welcomed Y/N to the family. Of course, I would say she’s been part of this family for years.”

You sheepishly smile, catching Rafe’s eye.

“And Rafe,” he pauses, staring at his son. “Rafe has been working very hard in his position at Cameron Development. Harder than almost anyone, and I’m not just saying that.” He laughs a little. “That’s why, I’ve decided to make him Cameron Development’s new Chief Operating Officer.”

Your lips part with surprise, quickly turning into a smile as you put an arm around Rafe’s shoulders, placing a kiss on his cheek.

“I’m so proud of you,” you whisper, catching the happiness in his eyes.

“I won’t let you down,” he tells his dad.

Wheezie smiles, thinking it must be a big deal, Sarah doesn’t look impressed, and Rose just casually sips her wine.

“Now, I’m not saying I’m expecting any, but maybe an announcement about a grandchild before the end of the year would be nice,” Ward says, half-jokingly.

Your first instinct is to tense up, even if you try not to, your arm moving so just your palm lies on Rafe’s back.

“I think that very well could happen,” Rafe practically promises.

Your face falls a little, trying to keep a sense of lightheartedness in your voice.

“Well, maybe not this year.”

Rafe turns to you at that, giving you a look only you can see. But he bites his tongue from saying anything.

Ward doesn’t push further, saying he’s happy as long as he gets a grandchild. But the damage is done, Rafe not meeting your eyes for the rest of dinner.

Another silent car ride, this time, you can feel the minutes pass by. Rafe doesn’t say a word to you, and honestly, you’re grateful, knowing you don’t want to argue while he’s behind the wheel.

You dread the moment you get home, but at this point, you should be angrier than he is.

He’s still not talking to you when you get home, setting his things down before going upstairs.

He’s almost casual in his actions, but you can tell by the tightness of his jaw and how he can’t look at you, that he’s upset.

You follow him upstairs, repeating his name.

“Rafe,” you call out. “You’re going to have to talk to me. You can’t just give me the silent treatment.”

You find him in the bedroom you two share, slipping off his shoes.

He finally looks at you, and his eyes are ablaze.

“Did you have to say that?” He bitterly asks.

“Say what? The truth?” Your tone matches his. “I just don’t understand why you’re mad. Do you really not want your family to know we’re waiting?”

His teeth sink into his bottom lip, like he doesn’t believe what you’re saying.

“It’s embarrassing, Y/N,” he spits out.

“Embarrassing?” You ask, unsure if you heard him correctly. “It’s embarrassing that your wife gets to decide when she wants to have a baby?”

“That’s not what I meant.” He shakes his head but doesn’t explain further.

“Then what do you mean?” You press.

“It-It’s embarrassing that it looks like we’re not on the same page,” he finally explains, flexing his fingers.

“I agree, Rafe. Then why did you say that? Why did you agree with him when you know I want to wait?”

“Exactly. You want to wait.”

You’re left speechless by his implication, lip almost trembling while you take in his words. This is the first time you’re hearing of this, but you realize certain comments you brushed off might have meant he wanted a baby sooner than later.

“Honestly, it sounds like you don’t want kids at all,” he continues. His face is twisted up, pacing back and forth away from you.

“What?” You ask, your brows knitted together. “I do, you know I do. I just want to be able to grow my career before we have any. You know that.”

“What career?”

You start to feel your chest getting tighter.

“What?”

“You sit at a computer a few times a week. How is that stopping you from having a baby?”

You can feel your eyes starting to sting, not being able to remember a time where Rafe said something so hurtful to you.

“Rafe…” You start.

He shrugs his shoulders. “It sounds like an excuse to me.”

You shake your head, eyes getting glassy.

“Just because you got promoted, doesn’t mean you get to tell me my job doesn’t mean anything.” Rage runs through your voice. “And I hate to say it, but you only have that job for one reason. At least I got my job through my own hard work.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, regret fills you.

Somehow his eyes harden even more as he steps closer to you.

“You mean the job you barely get any money from?” He asks, getting closer until you have no choice but to step back, your body hitting the wall behind you. “Remind me, who paid for this house? Or for your clothes? Or for-for that stupid soap you insist on ordering from France?”

He’s almost spitting in your face as you feel your shoulders dig into the wall.

“Who paid for all of that?” His voice is loud as he asks again, his fingers still flexing and unflexing as you look up at him with tearful eyes.

It feels like an eternity before you answer.

“Your father,” you rasp out.

You watch in fear as he takes a step back from you, his breathing getting rougher before his fist collides with the wall next to your head.

You flinch, moving your face away as you feel his arm almost graze you.

Tears fall freely from your eyes as he tries to steady his breathing, glancing at his red knuckles.

Finally, you see the realization hit him, his eyes softening at your cowering figure right next to the hole in the wall he made.

“Y/N-.” He begins, stepping closer to you.

“Don’t,” you yell, holding up a hand and stopping him.

He tries to say something, but you speak instead.

“Just go away,” you urge him, and after a moment, he does, leaving you at the scene of the crime.

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[sharonisthebettercarter]

Thinking about what you said, I think it's highly probable Madelyn Stillwell raped Homelander when he was 14 or 15.

That's around the age he got stuck at, right?

I think fandom is probably right about her doing it as more of a means to control him than anything, but I think you're probably right about this making it worse and meaning she did much more than has been shown to us on screen.

Regardless, I think this would have to be the case and I would say is even implied, but you are absolutely right that it shouldn't matter why someone decides to be a child molester.

They're still a child molester and whatever reasoning they have, the act is still vile and inexcusable. There even being debate on that in fandom just seems like grooming apologism and abuse dismissal because of favoritism towards Madelyn.

But the results and actions are ultimately the same in the end. It's also implementing a clause to make it mutually exclusionary when it could very well be both.

In the final scene, she swears to him that she loves him but is afraid of him and Homelander thanks her for finally being honest with him before killing her.

What if she was being honest or at least believed her own words when she said she loved him?

And the other scenes between them never struck me as a one time deal or the first time something like them happened. He does look off put in some ways and not quite uncomfortable, but almost like he's regressing when he's with her. Like she maybe used to do that sort of stuff more frequently and hasn't lately.

The scene where they're finally together struck me as more regression too. He immediately apologized to her and she consoled him like it was something that has happened before and she was used to it from him. Even the words she used and the way she said it and the way things were.

"My special sweet boy." "You did good." "That was so lovely."

Do people really believe this or similar can't have happened before with the things she says? To me, they indicate the exact opposite of that thought.

The scene looked almost like it was his first time, and obviously not hers. But the only way that really makes sense is if he is experiencing a moment of regression, possibly to his actual first time with her.

The scene feels like mother and son incest after years of abuse where she's deliberately causing his regression and enjoying the power it gives her over him.

She's a predator and this to me is made pretty clear if not explicit.

OOOH~<3! my darling anon, i wish i could fucking kiss you<3!

you just put into a word exactly why i could never get behind the homewell ship or the homewell type elements being used in other ships in fics that were supposedly trying to *heal* him. easy way to get me to check out for a fic because you *CANNOT* use elements from someone's trauma and abuse, legit full on *exploit* them, and *then* dare to call it or frame it as *healing* and expect it all to be hunky dory, that is just not how that shit works. (at least speaking in terms of medical accuracy/no wonder this shit is so triggery for me, this ain't supposed to be fuckin' disney--)

obliviously or dismissively predatory, so not even in the fun way...

and i want to be clear here, because this isn't me trying to tell people to not like the ship or elements or stop making content for them or whatever the fuck else. i don't care if people have or indulge in toxic guilty pleasure ships or stories here and there (literally have my own), but i always think we should be self aware of our own shit (plus ranting is sometimes good for the soul~<3) and it really *really* shows some people just are not in this case.

i *also* know people don't always mean to set up that way, part of it is a major problem with society (i will get to that~) and the only way for people to be aware is to be *made* aware, butt~

"--you think love is to prey, but i'm sorry i don't pray that way!"

"once i ran to you, now i run from you, this tainted love you've given--"

1000% correct. madelyn, regardless of what happened *off screen* between her and homelander, what we *did* see of her is enough to confirm her as a *predator*, and this was *before* diabolical added to the story behind them. she is extremely predatory as a character, set behind a narcissistic 'mother knows best' filter and a lot of it has nothing to do with homelander.

look no further than starlight~<3

this woman attempted to get a victim of rape to have 'discretion' about what happened to her, TO HER FACE. and every step of the way, tried to bully starlight into 'line' for the company. literally using narcissistic abuse--guilt tripping and shame, questioning her core values, fucking gaslighting (all things we see homelander copy oh deary me what an *odd* cowinkidink!! I WONDER WHERE HE LEARNED IT FROM.)--among others with a 'motherly' frame and 'it's just constructive criticism' (BITCH NO IT AIN'T!!) to manipulate her into doing what vought wanted/what was best for the *company*, NOT for annie.

hell, i'd wager she fucking hired starlight *specifically* because they thought she'd be an *easy* target.

she was *vulnerable*, nearly alone in that big city. her only relative/support system was an extremely religious mother who was *pushing her* to push through any pain or abuse and still wear a smile *for vought* and *for her* because of *fame* and *fortune*, framed as *for annie* when no it def wasn't. (i do like that starlight's mum actually becomes self aware of this and tries to amend the trust she broke, but i digress)

her tapes and everything they showed us about starlight showed us a wide eyed, bright eyed girl who was *hopeful*--but also naive... and as much as it pains me, that would have made her more susceptible to vought's machinations.

and i think the main reason annie didn't completely fall down the vought victims rabbit hole is in part due her truly good nature<3, but also because she met *hughie* (side note, notice how every time hughie and starlight have a falling out or separate from each other, they both start to get *worse*. butcher also tends to swoop in--)

it doesn't get talked about enough, but butcher pulls the same kind of bullshit with hughie (honestly probably why i could never quite feel right about butchie, do still like it but i do prefer it if butcher catches some guilty complexes causa hughie lmao), another good kid who's just had something monumentally traumatic happen to him and is in a super fucking vulnerable place where he'd be easy to manipulate for whatever it is butcher has planned.

he scoped him out and *saw* that, something to *use* to his advantage. and recruited him as such. like a gotdamn predator.

the wrench in his plans (as well as madelyn's) came in *hughie meeting annie* because they *gave* each other a solid support system because they were both good people, dealing with trauma, who found each other~<3 (always a hardcore hughielight shipper)

and butcher even *knows* this, he *knows* annie actually *honestly* and actually HELPS hughie and ruins his plots for him, so of course that mofo is gonna keep trying to ruin everything and break them up. if madelyn had ever discovered hughie, she probably would have done the same shit if in her own faux 'concerned mother' way.

BUTT... you are absolutely right in saying that fandom is highly dismissive or even apologist of what madelyn did to homelander (like they are with fuckin' everything that happened to him honestly) and it doesn't matter what reason she had to abuse him, what should be looked at is the fact of the matter.

did she abuse him? yes or no

the answer is yes, period. asking if she was actually attracted to him or just wanted control becomes a moot point after that, she *still* fucking groomed him. people can go ahead and debate the other factors, but the least they could do is acknowledge the first bit and not use the others to try and deny or 'lessen' the gravity of what she did.

i blame part of this on ableism and victim blaming, but also with how dismissive people *still* are when it comes to male victims of just about anything. christ, we still have people in fandom who have watched the show and *refuse*, not hyperbole, they downright *REFUSE* to acknowledge that homelander could have *any* semblance of victimhood whatsoever. despite the fact that he was literally tortured as a child and fucking groomed and we are given glimpses of these facts on screen, they'll deny any form of nuance and paint it as completely black or white, because he became... pretty much the only thing that fate allowed him to become.

that's not limited to this site even, it's prevalent pretty much in any part of the boys fandom across the web. (which is ironic given the series exists to challenge this sort of thinking)

but how often do we still see cases of a male *child* being sexually assaulted by an adult woman and the fucking judge going, "wElL sHe'S cAnDy So He PrObAbLy LiKeD iT"?

thankfully, not as often anymore. but if i'm honest? TOO FUCKING MANY (once is fucking too many) and the thought is still INSANELY pervasive. and again, it leads back to the question.

did she abuse him? yes or no

it doesn't fucking matter if the kid 'liked it' or not, MA'AM, THIS IS A FUCKING CHILD--

*children can NOT consent*

or in homelander's case, an emotionally stunted extremely mentally ill person. and ALSO a child at one point.

*likewise, mentally ill/special needs/disabled people and informed consent is an issue all its own. all of these are among the most vulnerable to abuse and the least likely to get justice for it*

if madelyn had been a man, nobody would question this. (who am i kidding, i'd like to think that but i am well aware there are apologists of all kinds that would not give a shit and be equally gross about it.)

and you are def right, it *feels* 1000% like *regression* in the scenes he's with her. and now that you mention it, the scene where they're together?? oh, fuck me. anon... that is *dark* and it fucking hurts but you may be right.

it *was* absolutely the first time *we* as an audience saw them together, and i think that may skew the perception about. there *was* absolutely an effort to regain control over him in that instance. but the things she said and the way it plays out... no

plainly, just no... it *does not* feel like the very first time that has happened... it feels like something that is *rare* between them. but definitely something that's happened *before*, and perhaps something she maintains as *rare* specifically to keep a hold on him. (could this be one reason for the diabolical episode?? to further implicate this?)

and even his use of doppelganger hinted at this cause think of it.

a 'madelyn' that is *just* for him, *only* the parts of her that... gave him attention, the bits he *liked*. what she more than likely fed to him as *scraps* to keep him crawling back for more. but because it was never genuine, the confusion from the ratio with abuse was thrown off, and the entire illusion that it ever meant anything was shattered prior (along with stormfront manipulating him), well...

"i give you all a boy could give you, take my tears and that's not nearly--"

down to his hatred and jealousy of teddy. we have to imagine what things were like before she had him but i get the feeling homelander got a lot more attention before then. it was well over 20 years and people honestly think in all that time *nothing* else happened??? things were 'normal' and then boom, *random* mommy kink??? hell, even the kid was maybe just as much a means to 'reset' the balance and help her maintain control as he was for future profit for vought.

OW.

yes. madelyn is a predator. homelander is her groomed victim. and i don't think it gets mentioned enough in this discourse, but one of the biggest reasons predators prey on the vulnerable or even want to make a fucking victim of someone is *because* of the power trip it gives them over that person. (hell, homelander fucking does this *specifically* because it has been done to him his entire life!)

and *even former abuse victims* may not realize it when they pull this sort of shit. i'm not gonna dive into that because it is a fucking *depressing* can of tapeworms, but let's just say i've been there, i know people who've been there, and i know people who know people who've been there. so this shit is a big fucking problem for people when we don't notice it and massively persistent circle jerk of perpetuation.

but it's still fucking predation, it doesn't make a difference if it's done by someone with power/control kink, narcissistic disorder or 'mommy/daddy dearest' vibes, pedophilic disorder, etc. it still fucking harmful and victimizes someone (especially when they are unaware/cannot consent to the powerplay OH FUCK--)

goddammit... i just realized the problem lmao... PISS. POOR. BDSM ETIQUETTE. GOTDAMN.

and trauma management i guess.

basically, people tag dom/sub or top/bottom when they should be tagging a 'control' or 'abuse kink'. dom/sub play relies on the informed consent of both parties while 'control' relies on the lack there of (informed consent) from the 'sub'. and in homelander's case, this shit is particularly bad. (readers need to be given informed consent too!! always tag yo shit y'all!!)

which to be fair, ain't exactly the fault of the ship itself, but more so the lack of awareness/common dismissal on it. it's really hella normalized/often advertised as 'just a quirky lil guy with a mommy kink' when that's not even remotely the only thing at play here and it goes way deeper and darker than that. you toss in homelander's other traumas and it's just... it's a goddamn mess.

and now i understand why i am so incredibly grossed out by fics that push homelander through more of this nonsense (or worse) with a new person (any person) and never bother addressing the trauma he has *directly* related to this shit. (because my traumas directly deal in the control shit yayyyyyyyyyyyyy~... UGH--)

well.

call me a pussy if you must (i am a pussy and a cunt and a dick and an asshole, i wear it shamelessly~<3) but i just ain't all that interested in fics that only exchange *handlers* for homelander instead of actually help him (when that's what they'll claim to want to do). seriously, lining him up with another 'madelyn' of all things just leaves me wishing he could *get away* from his shiny new abuser (because that is what she was, and would ideally be the inevitable outcome anyhow!)

homelander needs at least *one* honest *friend* who genuinely doesn't want anything from him to help him unblur the lines of informed consent that madelyn intentionally muddled *before* he can even make informed consent when it comes to this shit, especially if we wanna *actually* heal that boi (all he's had is more people capitalizing on it over and over if not just people with no clue of the minefield they were navigating)

he'd need to be able to experience true *independence* and *agency* before he decided they were things he actually wanted to put in someone else's hands or 'give up', so to speak, both of which would come *after* healing.

and if i'm indulging in toxicity with him, i'ma make him *get back at his abusers*~<3, give him a chance at some revenge porn for once and make it so much worse for *them*, not the guy who literally never had a chance or got to breathe his own breath (and def tagged properly of course).

but of all the whack ass takes i could see in the sea of fandoms, ANYONE in that position over this boi (or any character in similar situation) as he is *unhealed* is *NOT* his ally and doesn't give an honest shit about him, it's 100% all about *control* over him (which i know is a huge kink for tons of people and hypernormalized in society, especially heteronormativity, but again, trauma central for me so it'd be really fuckin' nice if people learned the difference and also started tagging this shit~<3)

fun for some, but not for me.

i've always generally preferred push/pull powerplay that purposely leaves the question of 'control' open/eventually balances it and helps empower and individualize both characters to be the best versions of themselves, i want them to learn and grow together. positive masculinity/femininity and emotional maturity are way more of a turn on for me and i want these bois and gurls and inbetweens to graduate to *men* and *women* and fairly *reasonable adults* when i write them, while preserving their core personalities and the things that make them *them*.

i also don't view 'bottomhood' as 'punishment'/something to use to deliberately rob a person of control/self determination (as much as we may joke about it, and also that is just rape with a pretty veil that at least deserves to be properly tagged) and i normally focus on empowering them just as much if not more than my tops so it's just damn weird to me to see that kind of mentality get popularized on any character and leik.

gotdamn, first off, what the shit, and second, i realize getting to the places i wanna go reasonably and responsibly takes hard work and pretty intricate writing but please lawd satan tell me i ain't the only one to feel this way, PLEASE!?

but very good point about it possibly being both/more than one element here. control is more likely to be *one* reason, but not *the* only reason and it could very well be a factor of both attraction and need to/getting off on the idea of controlling him (which still stems back to attraction, honestly, even if she didn't feel it towards him the sense of him being a child, it would still mean she feels it towards him in the sense of him being vulnerable which is just as awful, honestly.)

and i do think his stunted emotional maturity is 100% indicative that something *very* specific happened to him around that age (*maybe* she waited till after the debut??), but among all the other trauma, that is actually a question worth asking. why *then* and not any of the other times? he's got no shortage of trauma for his brain to pick from, so what the hell happened then?

as far as it feeling like incest? lil bit, yeah (if pseudo, which obviously we know it's not but i do think the vibe there is actually intended), suffice to say that madelyn is to homelander what billy's father was to him...

and y'know... i gotta admit, knowing this i am surprised we don't see all that much of butcher being shipped with his father because that and homewell are pretty much the same thing on opposite spectrums.

UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH--

have fun y'all, as always butt leik... have fun responsibly--gawddammit i never thought i'd be *that* old fart but i guess i am... well i can still be fun about it... tipsy bartender is fun lmao<3<3<3 (altho these subjects are decidedly less fun... *sigh of the long suffering*...)

[showtoonzfan]

Ganna be honest the only reason I’m sticking around Helluva right now is because I’m waiting for the Fizz and Ozzie episode, as well as seeing Fizz’s backstory. I don’t give a shit about Barbie’s episode, (REALLY hope that’s not the next one, if it is I’m not watching it, I can’t stand another fucking poor pity me Blitz episode) nor the episodes that come after since we already know by the leaks how this shit is ganna end, so I really think I’m going to drop the Stolitz show after the Fizz and Ozzie one.

Season 1 was bad but season 2 is just worse. It’s retconning fucking everything, flip flopping it’s character motivations and can’t stay fucking consistent for the life of it, the female characters are still pushed to the back and have no thought or care written into them compared to the males, the humor is absolute dogshit because the creator only sticks to one fucking form of comedy every single time and can’t focus on the serious aspects without an unfunny shitty gag or distraction, the constant push of everyone wanting you to ship Stolitz and care about them despite them still having no chemistry or reason why they should end up together, (and being horrible people themselves) the constant dangling of future plot threads only for it to have an underwhelming “conclusion”, and introducing new threats when we STILL haven’t gotten to know our main fucking characters well and their dynamics/relationships, the show tries so hard to be deep and compelling but fails every time because in reality the writers have no idea how to write trauma and abuse and it’s just a fetish show for people who sexualize gay men to the maxes and get off to sex, the obvious fact that Viv has NO idea where this story will end or what her end goal is for the show, so she keeps pulling ideas at the top of her head without planning what will come after, causing everything we watch to not have any build up, proper time and dedication, or feel earned.

The show CONSTANTLY goes back to the status quo every episode and barley acknowledges the previous one that happened or existed, the characters stay the same and are never going through actual fucking development, learn from their mistakes or past, and when the writers aren’t retconning things, the characters are exactly the same as they were in the beginning of the show. The only characters I slightly care about at this point are Via, Striker, Fizz, and maybe Ozzie, but Striker clearly is a tool that Viv seems to have no sympathy for, and Octavia? Well…fuck Octavia, who cares about her feelings, lol, she’s a meanie for being upset with her father and needs to suck up to him just because he’s nicer, and when I say I “like” Fizz and Ozzie, that’s not saying much. We barley know them and I hate that Fizz is tied to Blitz in the first place, because you know Viv is going to end up sucking Blitz’s dick for every shitty action he did and have the end work in his favor. It’s so predictable, Fizz and Blitz are going to make amends, even if it’s not this season, I know it’ll happen, cause every fucking episode that focuses on Blitz wants you to feel bad for him and side with him, even when he’s being called out for being a dick, especially if you’ve seen the leaks. Speaking of those, with Viv mentioning that this season has 12 episodes and episode 12 was ALSO leaked, it gives me no hope or interest for the show. This show wants you to hate anyone and anything who doesn’t side with Stolas and I don’t give a shit about him and Blitz, since this is literally confirmed to be the Stolitz show, and these are two awful unfunny characters who should have never been main characters in the first place.

There are tons of better shows out there right now, as well as old shows I haven’t watched yet, and I need to stop wasting my breath repeating the same thing over and over. Tearing the show apart IS fun, but at the same time, it’s the same case with every episode. Fast pacing, unfunny humor, tonal problems, filler, favoritism in writing, lack of buildup, retconning, and the main point that certain characters suck and others deserve better. It’s legit the same issue every time so that’s why it’s starting to get so tiring critiquing the show and watching it, especially since I don’t give a shit about the characters or story, cause the characters I actually care about get thrown in the dust while the characters that fucking suck get focus constantly and idolized, and whenever an upcoming plot for an episode SEEMS like it’ll intrigue me, the potential is swept out the window because no one on this writing team is a good writer, not Adam, not Brandon, and especially not Viv, who hasn’t learned anything or improved, and doesn’t realize that she just doesn’t have the writing chops for what she’s TRYING to accomplish, and the show will never improve because the creator is a stuck up brat who can’t take criticism and treats it like acid rain.

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

Love Until We Freeze Ch.1 Day 0 - Breck/Reader

[ 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 ]

Warnings: Dead dove, do not eat. No use of Y/N, gender-neutral reader, extreme slowburn, stockholm syndrome, enemies (in reader's eyes) to lovers.

Warnings that are constant, but not repeated after this: The reader is afraid but desperate, and is constantly fighting back. Many mentions of depression, loneliness, helplessness, and self-worth. Kidnapping, manipulation, gaslighting, and abuse of all kinds (will be tagged). Varying levels of consent (will also be tagged), Breck touches the reader a lot and doesn't respect their personal space (touching, kissing, grinding, undressing, etc). The other members also don't respect their personal space because of him, literally everyone is terrible to them minus a few kind people because this is a cult. Reader is always being watched, reader has very slight epilepsy and a fear of needles, reader is very cold and will continue to be so.

Wordcount: 3548

Summary: You hated the cold, which is why you weren’t excited at all for the big family trip to the ski resort hours away from where you lived, but the summer heat was killing everyone else, and they were ready to risk the cold killing you for a moment of reprieve from it. The resort was beautiful, the slopes were enticing, and the mysterious man with the business card with a small black diamond in the corner might be more than he seemed when you run into him in the lobby your first day there.

Notes: The songs I listened to while writing~ Here it is, my longest DD fic outside of YMMWS, and as promised, I'm tagging the hell out of it, and it won't be going in DD's tag just in case. I really couldn't take any of the dove out and replace it with something tamer without it ruining what happens next and affecting how the ending goes, so here it is, uncensored for Halloween because I truly love how this one turned out. This will not be a happy fic, there is no cute fluff here (for the most part), you really need to be at least okay with what each chapter's tags are before proceeding, please. With that said, if this darker story does entice you, I hope you enjoy it during this dark month. ♦️

You first saw him while your family was on vacation, it being a trip to the mountain more than a few hours away to escape the summer heat, but it seemed like everyone forgot to actually ask your opinion on the destination since you fucking hated the cold.

There’d been other places you’d wanted to go, other things you’d rather do with your vacation hours off work, but as soon as the weatherman had given the week’s temperatures it’d been locked in, and you weren’t allowed to stay home despite being an adult with your own place, a car, a decently sized apartment; this was family time, you weren’t allowed to just ‘skip it this year’ even though you were so tempted to call back your boss and tell him you couldn’t go just so you’d have an excuse to give them. In the end you hadn’t, and you’d instead had to dig through your winter wardrobe despite the sweltering heat outside, just holding the sweaters and scarves and hats already making you sweat at the thought of putting them on later when it was more appropriate.

The drive up there on its own was practically unbearable, the conversations going on from your parents and relatives surrounding you in the rented minibus making what should’ve been an enjoyable ride through the seasons a headache instead. You’d tried to pull out the book you were currently reading as soon as you’d strapped in, but one of your uncles had seen it and pulled it right out of your hands, telling you to, ‘Talk with the family for once,’ with a big laugh, and you hadn’t seen it again after that. Now you had your head resting against the cooling glass, the snow starting to fall the closer you got to your destination, everyone pointing and talking about the mountain ahead when it came into view.

It was the biggest one closest to you, you’d looked it up when you’d gotten the bad news that it was where you’d be heading in a week’s time, and the entire ski resort had rave reviews about their excellent staff both in the sprawling wooden cabin-style hotel and the instructors on the slopes, as well as the single best double diamond course the States had to offer. Your bigshot cousin, a few years younger than you, boasted about mastering it all the way there, but you highly doubted it; he had a tendency to be all talk, or all wax no wick as you’d heard it said on TV.

You slipped on your warmest jacket before the minibus even stopped, no one else taking the switch from summer to winter as seriously as they wore passable fall outfits for now; they were still in travel and packing modes, but you knew better as the vehicle pulled up to a stop just outside the grand double doors. It was a nice place, you couldn’t deny that as you grabbed your suitcase and backpack from the overhead bin and headed into the warm lobby, it already filled with people getting ready to hit the slopes now that the sun, although covered by clouds for the most part, was high in the sky. You hurried over to the receptionist’s desk to check-in as your family started piling in behind you, each opening of the doors blasting you with the cold, and you gave them your name so you could get the key to your single room and go.

The only way you’d agreed to come was being able to book your own room, you were not about to share no matter how much your parents had argued against it since your single room would be so far away from everyone else’s doubles, but you’d just played it off and acted like that wasn’t exactly what you wanted. As such, your room was on the ground floor while theirs were higher up on the floors above, all spaced out based on availability, and as soon as you were able to separate from them and bask in your solitude you felt yourself instantly relax. You might not be able to leave, and you did have to make at least one appearance outside to avoid your father’s wrath about the wasted money and the fact that you might as well have stayed home if you weren’t going to ski - which you wanted to tell them was also your desire - but at least you had this.

You unpacked your things as slowly as possible, ignoring your phone as it lit up to tell you that everyone would be meeting in the dining room for dinner in a few hours after they were all settled in. You made sure that every single thing was in its place so you could avoid leaving again for as long as you could, finding every excuse to stall until you had no choice but to get acquainted with the space outside your room. You opened up the map on your phone after pulling on your warmest sweater, it was nice inside but you’d rather sweat than take any chances, and the second you left your wing of the hotel and stepped into the lobby you crashed into a group of people waiting to take their lessons. The two you’d hit fell forward, hit two more each, everyone holding onto each other as embarrassment made you cringe and want to bail, the instructor seeing the commotion and parting the group like Moses, his presence commanding respect even as he didn’t say a word.

You noticed the vest first, highly visible to stand out against the snow and trees, then the reflective sunglasses, your face warped in the colour as you looked up at him, and when he took them off to look you in the eye you felt all the embarrassment leave as dark brown irises stared you down. ‘I hope you’re not this clumsy out there, on the mountain,’ he demanded to know, your phone almost slipping from your hand as you stared before you came back to your senses and shook your head.

‘I don’t ski,’ you told him quickly, and he looked you over pointedly.

‘That much is obvious, that’s why you’re in need of my lessons, aren’t you?’ He said it like a question but it almost sounded like a statement, you needed his lessons, you had no choice now that he’d said it.

‘Uh…’

‘Lessons sound great!’ Your head spun as your parents exited the doors behind you, your father’s hand clapping down on your shoulder, trapping you there as the impatient group grew even more so the longer they were kept waiting. ‘How much do you charge?’

‘I’m full up today, but my lessons cost nothing but the love of the powder, the scent of the trees as they fly by, bring those with you as currency and I can teach you everything you want to know,’ he told you instead of your father, his eyes never leaving you and making you feel small. ‘And, for those who want to reach the Double Black, I also do private lessons, but those do cost a considerable amount.’

‘This one’s not going pro anytime soon, we’re just here for the week,’ your father laughed, the man still not looking at him as he just hummed to him with a slight nod, ‘but if my wife and I were to try it, how much would it cost?’

‘You couldn’t afford it.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘I said-’ He finally looked at him, the hand on your shoulder tightening a little as those brown eyes drilled into him with a seriousness you’d never seen before, why was he so intense for a ski instructor? ‘-you couldn’t afford it.’

Your father’s hand dropped from your shoulder as he stormed off, your mother apologizing before chasing after him before his temper spoiled the night, and when you looked from them back to the man you found he was staring at you again, his group ignored behind him until one of the women tapped on his shoulder. ‘Um, are we heading out soon? It’s getting cold,’ she asked, and something flashed in his eyes as he turned his head just enough to face her.

‘If you can’t appreciate the cold of the snow you don’t belong up here, get out,’ he hissed, and she and a few others laughed at his joke before the sound died out one by one, he wasn’t joking. ‘Get. Out.’ His voice was low, level, restrained, and she huffed before grabbing her friend and leaving, the two already talking about how he was hot but not that hot as they went off to grab some lattes to warm up with. ‘If everyone else is prepared then you can meet me outside by the lifts, I’ll be there in just a moment.’

The group just did a collective shrug before heading out, it was a free lesson so the only thing they were really losing was time, and as soon as they were gone he held out his card, pulled from seemingly nowhere; you took it and looked it over, it nothing special aside from his name, which was apparently Breck Montanari, the title of Level 8 Ski Instructor underneath it, which you supposed must be good, as well as a small black diamond in the lower right corner.

‘Thanks, but- I’m not much of a skier, I hate the cold,’ you admitted as you held out the card for him to take back, but he just took it before pressing it back into your palm, his hands enveloping yours as he leaned forward just a little.

‘Then you really need my lessons,’ he almost whispered, or maybe he was speaking at a normal volume and you were blacking out under that gaze, his hands freezing over your own until your skin burned. ‘Come find me at the top of the mountain tomorrow at 8PM, under the marker for the Double Black, I’ll give you your first lesson.’

You couldn’t refuse as he let go of your hand, put his sunglasses back on, and walked outside to rejoin his group, the edges of the card biting into your palm and fingers even without him there to hold it in place.

The rest of the day flew by before you knew it, the card heavy in your pocket as you followed your family around while they toured the place, your appetite almost gone as they sat around you during dinner. You only picked at your food, as delicious as it looked, before excusing yourself with the lie of a headache despite knowing the predictable jokes made at your expense as everyone chided you for walking away. Your room felt much too dark and empty for your liking as you walked inside, stripped down so you could put on your pajamas, get into bed for the night, his card now laying on the nightstand right beside your phone.

Not once did he leave your mind, it was almost like he’d cast a spell on you, and you thought back to his request before sitting up, the blankets bunching around your waist. He wouldn’t be there now, it was the middle of the night and the lifts weren’t even running, but something drew you to get out of bed, get dressed in your warmest clothes, your family sleeping soundly well away from the sound of your door shutting behind you. Your muffled footsteps barely left an echo as you walked over the diamond-patterned red carpet, the other rooms quiet as you passed by them, the lobby still lit up for those who had their own curiosity to them, although you were the only one out there at the moment.

Even the bar patrons had gone to bed over an hour ago, the time on the large ornamental grandfather clock by the entertainment wing’s door showing it was just after 2AM, and you wondered if maybe you’d be locked in when you tried the front doors. You pushed them and they gave way, letting in the most bitter chill you’d ever felt in your life, your scarf covering as much of your face as you could manage, your hat pulled down so low that it was brushing uncomfortably against your eyelids. It was freezing out, it was pitch black, and still you followed the lit up path to the lifts, the currently falling snow covering up all the prints of the day.

You were right, of course you would be, the lifts weren’t moving and it was impossible to walk up the entire mountain so you didn’t know what you were trying to do here as you swore to yourself, sniffling away the burning cold as you attempted to rub some heat back into your arms. ‘What the fuck am I doing?’ you asked yourself, your voice so quiet even without anyone around to cover it up with their own idle chatter. ‘I need to get back inside before I get frostbite, this was so fucking dumb.’

‘What’s dumb about wanting to watch the snow fall?’

You jumped and slipped on the lightly packed powder under your boots, your body landing hard on the shoveled piles behind you, your eyes scanning the darkness until you saw the light reflecting off of his sunglasses. He wore a warmer coat, a hat on his head and gloves on his hands, but he looked like the cold wasn’t affecting him in the slightest, moved like he had no chill whatsoever, this was normal to him. Breck, you refused to call him Mr. Montanari no matter how high his level was after seeing him in that vest, walked up to you and extended his hand for you to take, and you almost refused before you felt the ice seep into your legs, the cold starting to burn the longer you were sitting down.

He pulled you up with ease, your chest colliding against his and trapping your hands together between them, and you didn’t know if it was just the material of his coat or if he was even colder than the snow. ‘The doors lock at 2:30, after the bar closes down, so no one drunkenly wanders outside and gets themselves killed,’ he explained without letting go, fear starting to overtake you at the thought of being trapped out there until dawn. ‘The other… instructors and I have our own place up the mountain, away from the hotel; I can take you there, if you’d rather not freeze to death tonight?’

‘You sure there’s no way inside?’ you couldn’t stop yourself from asking, and when he smiled at you you noticed that his right canine stuck out a little further than the rest, it catching on his chapped lips.

‘I’m sure.’

‘Then let’s go, please.’ You knew this was even more stupid than coming out in the middle of the night, but he worked there, your parents had seen him talking to you, his card was on your nightstand still, if he did end up killing you on this mountain then he’d never get away with it. That thought didn’t ease you though as he brought you to an idly running ATV, how you’d walked right past it you didn’t know, but the inside was at least a little warmer as you shut your door and strapped in your seatbelt. The heat was on a low setting and you stared at the dial, willing it to turn as he sat down next to you and started the engine back up, and you were sure he noticed you staring as he let out a small chuckle and just started driving.

It was pitch black and the snow gave him such little visibility but he still knew where he was going, following a drivable path up the mountain just for his vehicle as well as his co-workers’, the hotel quickly disappearing behind the sheet of white and black in the distance until all you saw was what the headlights showed to you. It took a good half hour, maybe longer, you didn’t know as you shut your eyes and bunched up to try and cling to your remaining warmth, but he did eventually reach a secondary building high up on the mountain as promised. There were many other vehicles already parked there, but he drove past them as he rounded off to the side where a garage was waiting; he clicked a button on his keychain and the middle door lifted open, a space waiting for him with an owner sign of nothing more than a large black diamond on the wall at the end.

He parked, shut off the engine, and then got out, not even waiting for you to follow before leaving the garage, the lights turning off one by one the longer you waited. As soon as you saw what was happening you scrambled to get out before you were plunged into complete darkness, your phone unable to provide a light since you’d stupidly left it on your nightstand in your hurry to leave, and you just managed to reach the door on numb legs as the final light shut off. You threw it open and fell to the ground on the other side, your hands shaking as they hovered over the cement and tile floor, the wet footprints of Breck leading to his boots as well as two others as you slowly looked up, the strangers wearing gray sweaters with blue squares right in the middle standing above you without saying a word.

‘You’ll freeze down there, the floor isn’t very insulated,’ he simply said as they all stared at you, and when you were too stunned to move he motioned towards you, the two lifting you up by your arms and helping you stand. ‘Your room is this way, it isn’t as nice as back at the hotel, but you don’t have much of a choice up here, all the good rooms are for the Black Diamonds,’ he explained as you were all but dragged down the hall, your feet unable to keep up with them with how much the numbness was spreading. You’d never been this cold in your life, the winters back home didn’t even feel this bad, but it also could’ve had to do with the fact that you were so afraid of what was going on that you were finding it hard to move regardless.

He stopped outside a long line of doors, the numbers going up the only indicators of what was on the other sides to those who understood, and he flipped to a generic key on his keyring and unlocked it, your fight or flight finally kicking in at the sight. You tried to fight them off, needing to put some distance between whatever the fuck he intended for you inside that room and yourself, but when he grabbed you by the scarf, pulled it right off from around your dry throat you froze, staring up at him as he handed the scarf to the person to your left. Your hat came next, then he was undoing the zipper of your coat, and as soon as you heard the sound echo down the hallway you yanked yourself free and fell, your hands coming up to pull it closed again.

‘Oh, just what do you think I’m going to do with you?’ he asked, but there was a dark playfulness behind his words that hadn’t been there before, one you couldn’t trust as you were lifted back up again and carried inside. The room held a single bed with only a pillow and a sheet that definitely wouldn’t keep you warm, as well as a small bedside table with a single drawer, and a square table pushed into the corner by the door with only one chair; it looked like a slightly comfier prison cell than a spare room, and you looked back over your shoulder at him as your chest started to heave.

‘Will you bring me back tomorrow?’ you tried not to plead, and he just grinned at you before putting his sunglasses back on even though he was indoors and it was the middle of the night, although his eyes offered you no hope before they were hidden from sight.

‘You still need your first lesson,’ he smirked, and when you were dropped on the bed you bounced a little and tried to crawl towards him, your aching legs instantly sinking into the thin but comfortable mattress.

‘But you said I couldn’t afford it,’ you panicked, the two leaving the room so he could grab onto the handle.

‘I said your parents couldn’t afford it, you still don’t know what the price is.’

The door started to shut, and it took you a moment to realize that the light had never been on, and the window was up so high and was so small that once the door was shut you’d be back in that darkness again.

‘What’s the price? Just fucking tell me and I’ll pay it!’ You were getting desperate, you wanted out, you never wanted this, but this time he didn’t answer as the door clicked shut, his keys jingling again as you were locked in.

[smytherines]

8 and 15 for the fandom ask game :3

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

I would apologize for the essay but lets be real- you knew where this was headed

There's a few things I could say and they're all sorta connected, so at the risk of everyone collectively rolling their eyes, it's the Owen thing. Or specifically the idea that Owen was always horrible/sadistic/murder-horny/ethically worse than Curt in every way/borderline abusive (or actually abusive, in some takes). I think before the fall they were probably on equal footing morality-wise. That they were terrible arrogant bastards who were very deeply in love

It just. No offense to anyone (God I am bad at choosing violence), everyone is free to interpret things how they choose, art is subjective etc, but to me that theory doesn't make any sense at all. The biggest thing people use to support that theory is the tickle torture scene, and frankly that reads as pretty innocent (relative to them) to me

I don't think Curt knew it was Owen until Owen took the hat and mustache off, but to be honest... he should have. Owen did everything short of announcing himself to make sure Curt knew it was him before the gun came out. If my partner was within a foot of my face wearing a fake mustache and a hat, I would be able to recognize him because, yknow, he isn't Clark Kent.

I mean if you know someone biblically but can't tell its them from a couple of inches away... I dunno, maybe Curt has a mild case of faceblindness or something? Owen is good at disappearing into a role but nobody is that good

(I may have put a hat on and held up some felt under my nose and then got right up in my partner's face and said "hey can you tell its me???" And his response was "yes now please go away")

Owen gets right up in Curt's face several times, then he demonstrates knowledge a stranger would not have (I mean who else is going to know where Curt is ticklish and tickle him with a feather), then he outright tells Curt they have personal history together, and then with Oleg still between them he pulls out a gun and the moment Oleg looks away from Curt he shoots Oleg's knees out

We know that Owen talked his way past 20 Russian security officers to get to Curt, and that MI6 didn't tell A.S.S. that Owen was on this mission, and that combined with the feather I think makes a pretty compelling argument that Owen is specifically there to rescue Curt, and that it was most likely not a mission he had time to plan. They end up having to shoot their way out because Curt isn't quick enough to kill the guard before he can hit the alarm, but given that they are so outnumbered and that Owen talked his way in, it certainly seems like his plan was to sneak in and sneak out. So Owen playing along, taking his time to evaluate things before making his move, to maybe learn guard rotations, figure out who is coming and going during interrogations, I mean its not ideal from Curt's perspective, but to me it fits very well with how Owen is characterized for the rest of the scene- pragmatic, more cautious, but ultimately most concerned about getting them both out of there alive, even if Curt has to take a few punches in the process

Also the idea that Owen was there specifically to rescue Curt works so well on a character level because then Owen's rage isn't only about the fact that Curt left him to die, but that Owen wasn't even supposed to be there. That he was only there because he loved Curt and wanted to make sure Curt was okay, that he put himself in significant danger outnumbered in a Russian facility just to get to Curt, and then Curt left him to die. Post-fall Owen having to live with the knowledge that if he had just cared less about this man then he wouldn't have lost absolutely everything and had to go through "the horror of staying alive"

There's also this moment which, to me, reads as just pure relief that he was able to get to Curt and that Curt was alive and well. This little head tilt fucking kills me

But I digress... so, back to it:

I think he is having fun with it during the opening interrogation scene (they're terrible), but from Owen's perspective I don't think he realized that Curt didn't know it was him. When Curt says he knew it was Owen all along and that his accent could use some work, Owen doesn't say "haha gotcha, you didn't know it was me," (which honestly I think he would if he legit believed Curt didn't recognize him because they are both competitive, arrogant little bastards, he does tease him with the whole "sorry to cut you down/lovely afternoon of letting off some steam" thing so he certainly isn't above that) he just says that the accent was good enough to get him into the facility

Owen is the one to introduce them as "two of the world's greatest spies," so I don't think he would consider random Russian guard Oleg to be any legitimate danger to Curt (which, as we can see in the show, he isn't. With the exception of the punch, Curt is able to deflect everything Oleg does to him on account of being a really fucking good spy)

To me, the idea that Owen wanted to hurt Curt or scare him or humiliate him just doesn't fit with the way he is characterized in the rest of a1p1- intervening to get Cynthia off Curt's back, being concerned about Curt's drinking, trying to convince Curt that he needs to relock the safety barricades to limit the blast. In the rest of a1p1 he is very concerned with protecting Curt and getting them both out of there

But also! To me, characterizing Owen as always sorta like that would require me to ignore (or worse-- woobify) the one character in the show that really, truly knew Owen-- Curt. And I'm sure Curt put Owen up on a pedestal after the fall, but I also think if any person alive knew Owen Carvour it was Agent Curt Mega. He might not be in the most stellar mental state during the show, but I don't think he was so far gone that he didn't know who Owen really was. I think, if anything, Curt was in such a bad mental state because he knew exactly who Owen was-- someone who loved him and cared for him and always had his back, and in getting Owen killed he lost that forever

The lines Curt sings in Spy Again, about how Owen would put his drink down and turn his life around, about how Owen wouldn't want to see him like this and would want him to get his life back, I think those are accurate depictions of who Owen was before the fall. I think Curt singing "what happened to the man I knew?" and "you've lost your mind," and not being able to say Owen's name a single time after the reveal is just as telling-- because he does not recognize this version of Owen Carvour. To Curt, this is not the man he knew, not anymore, and that's why Curt kills him

15. that one thing you see in fanart all the time

Oh god I don't want to be mean because the art is incredible and I think all the artists in this fandom are so so talented and I appreciate them so much and I want to platonically kiss their little foreheads every time they bless us with curtwen art.... but every time I see Curt or Owen depicted with blue eyes I start twitching because they both have the most beautiful brown eyes like please guys please 🙏 🙏🙏

[therealcocoshady]

(I’m rambling in this, apologies)

So, here’s my two cents on the horrible, toxic relationship that cheated on both sides thing. And I know it’s absolutely no ‘who’s more right or who’s more wrong’ situation, the entire thing is just messed up and horribly tragic from the start:

From what I can gather, and I may be wrong which I apologize, but it started off on one side at first. There was a breaking point somewhere that ended up revealing an even deeper hole they were digging. Essentially, it was a lose-lose situation. No one was getting out of it with something positive.

Now, there’s no excuse at all and there’s no beating around the bush in saying that both did horrible things to others and especially each other. But if we consider the environment they lived and were raised in, not to mention that the cheating likely happened after YEARS of fighting and fighting and fighting as kids, then teenagers, then young adults; despite all of that, they likely had no one else to turn to but each other. It was a matter of survival under the facade of living.

But there’s a question that remains to be answered: Who started the toxicity, and continued to push the other to the point of fighting back?

And yet, they still knew each other more than any other stranger; You can’t just let go of someone so familiar so easily.

And then there’s the multiple reports of others that knew them, and they pretty much agreed on the same thing that (according to them), Kim was the generally more unpleasant one. You can be treated unfairly, be a victim, but also be incredibly difficult to get along with let alone help, and that didn’t help her case at all.

(In my opinion, I think everyone’s an ass, and I’m taking their words with a grain of salt.)

Still, Marshall going out with Kesia whilst being married? Yeah that’s fucked up. If Kim was also cheating during that same time then it’s doubly fucked up.

Final point: Marshall used his music as a way to express his rage and retaliation. And it definitely worked… a bit too well. Probably riding off of that satisfaction of feeling like you’re finally getting something good in a warzone of bad must’ve felt like a sick sort of heaven.

Don't you dare apologize for rambling. Nothing fills my heart with joy more than people leaving long ass messages in my Asks ❤️ (nice ones, at least 😅)

I absolutely agree with you ! The whole thing was tragic and unhealthy and it really pisses me off to see some people romanticize that situation. If Marshall Mathers hadn't turned into a successful rapper who, it seems, cleaned up his act, everyone would look at him for what the situation makes him look like : a lying, cheating asshole who eventually turned into a abusive husband.

Now, I know it takes two to tango. But from what I see online (algorithm might make me biased though ?) tons of people call out Kim's abuse towards him. Yet, only few people call him out. And I'll be honest : as much as I like him as an artist, as much as I love his music, it bothers me to see a woman treated this way when, in truth, the whole situation was messed up, on both sides.

From what I know, both of them had a rough upbringing and it certainly didn't help matters. It is a fact that the situation of the household, the family structure and the potential abuse in the family have an impact on people's development. For her as much as for him, guess it sort of made sense that they reproduced a fucked up pattern.

As to the question of who started it, we may never know. I don't think Marshall actually spoke about the situation in depth, and neither did Kim, I think ? I Most accounts we have come from third parties so who knows the credit we might give them... I don't doubt that there's some level of truth there, but I tend to be wary of people who step forward to give insider scoops about other people's relationships...

In truth, I don't think it matters who started it. If the matter is settled between these two, then it's their business. What counts, is my opinion, is that people are aware of the mechanisms that might lead them to vilify one while absolving the other.

As for both Kim and Marshall, I hope they're happy where they are in life now, that they got the help they needed and that they're able to maintain healthy relationships for the sake of their kids.

[gunsli-01]

I was tagged in this by @tired-and-unjellied @rainbowghostcat and @a-star-that-burns-brightly,

cute thing im coming up with this picrew of yourself and your current hyperfixation !!

Thank you all for tagging me I was happy to see it and it made me feel really included! I love being tagged in things generally. So, it really made my day to see these as I was going through my days!

I hope you're all enjoying yourselves and the new timeline information!

Oh, and Rainbow on a milgramblrgram note did you like the long greeting. It's getting great reviews-

How was the portrayal of Mikoto, I'd like to know your thoughts if you have time to read all that- that is. No pressure if you don't though. It's pretty long.

To be honest my current hyper is actually just me, myself, and fucking I. Yet, that's not a media and I did just write all that so ya already know I'M- (<- Accurate depiction of the fanbase falling into super hell trial three. I'll be fine though~ Because I was already in hell. So, I'm just going to be going, "Super!")

I've pretty much been embodying this song. To me selfcare is recognizing when I don't want to speak to anyone and not pushing myself to do so out of a misguided fear of missing the opportunity to, or misinterpreted my own feelings and ways of display care and consideration one-sidedly. Ultimately causing a lot of undue stress. That and generally recognizing that no one is ever entitled to the ability to access/communicate with someone else especially if someone is abusing that ability.

This may sound antisocial, maybe on some level it is. Yet, this is actually the most social I've been in a year. It's more just a reminder to myself to just not talk to people who make me feel bad about talking to anyone at all or about my hobbies. Something that some may be able to tell I've been really getting back into.

So another current hyper fixation has been my many ocs. Right now with a big focus on my little sweetie Daniel-

Who also fits that song quite a lot too I'm realizing,

Daniel: Yeah, it’s a real touristy place but a lot of students where I go hangout there due to it. Easy to get lost in a crowd. So, sometimes I just get a ride out there when invited or someone sends a ride to me if they really want me there. Nayo: Sounds fun- though it also sounds like the times you go there are very conditional. Have you ever been there without being invited Daniel: I mean yeah. Why else would I go there? Nayo: Was just curious- since you did just say that you tend to either pay for a ride when you’re invited out or someone sending one to you. For all I know, it could have been specifically to meet up with people. Daniel: Yeah, it was just to meet up with others. Not like that’s a crime though.

"I've gone outside and taken Ubers my friends have made me go."

I've been trying to to plot out the best way to finish his trial. I'm also really into Mugram (Mayumi and Masaru the oops we fucked up at work duo that is if Masaru is running a gambling scam to make quick cash.) and Tsumigram (mostly still really fixated on Toa) still. Plus, I'm interested in seeing a-star-that-burns-brightly opinion on the new timeline today. Sorry about that at first disjointed explaination on the pregnancy entrapment theory by the way I fuck up spelling a lot and sometimes forget connectors are necessary hope the edited version connected things in a more understandable way.

Also more proof for that pregnancy entrapment Yuno theory just dropped thanks to Nott sending me the graffart. Where staff just decides to highlight the red ribbon that's tied to the balloon reflected in Yuno's eyes within Umbilical the one she was aiming seeming just in case her first songs visuals were to subtle about it,

Since the graffart is directly referencing things in the prisoners first trial songs,

I messed up I found out- Is right!

Yuno as soon as she found out that was Yellow's baby,

"Oh, please! Gimme that baby and I'd yeet it off a tower."

The fanbase trial three are about to be out here like, "What?!"

Oh damn that's gonna be funny if it's actually the case.

So, yeah I've have a lot things that I've had my eyes on lately. Sorry for the more long response. I just didn't want to just slap all your tags together answer and say nothing else. So I brought up a few things I thought might interest all of you.

Also, go check out @apatchworkstar they put a theme on her blog for desktop that's very cute. Also on that note thanks for the all the help Tired-and-Unjellied I really hope it wasn't too much of a bother.

Oh also I'm tagging Star and @purgemarchlockdown for the tag game. Neither of you have to do it if you don't want to, though.

[corn-fanfiction]

SAVIOUR COMPLEX (Marx Hoffman x F!Reader Pt. 8)

(Pt. 7)

Rating: M

TAGS: language/past abuse/Mark Hoffman being a c*p/reader's life is maybe becoming less normal/Mark is protective bc it's his job but he's also problematic/because he's a c*p/Detective Gibson is his own tw/no Mark Hoffman this chapter :(/ busy being jigsaw a badass

Gibson shows up on your doorstep at 7:45 sharp.

He’s in the full getup now, suit jacket and pressed shirt with his side piece on display. You roll your eyes and push past him, your restaurant uniform on and your feet taking you there.

“What? No hello?”

“Hello,” you mutter through gritted teeth. Before you can walk past his cruiser, he’s got a hand on your bicep. You freeze.

It doesn’t help that he has a similar build to Ted, that their hair is the same color. You know it’s not him. But it jolts you anyhow and you manage to unfreeze and yank your arm away.

“Just because you’ve been assigned my case doesn’t mean you can put hands on me.”

“You didn’t seem to mind when it was Mark.”

“Right. And you’re not him. Seems pretty clear cut to me.”

He takes a moment before gesturing to the cruiser.

“Get in.”

You bunch your brow in confusion.

“Um…no?”

“Resisting an officer?”

You roll your eyes. “Did they stick you with me because you were too busy being an asshole to do your actual job?”

“Damn, you’re quick.”

“Thanks. Helps me get away from asshole cops with a power complex.”

“You can keep digging yourself that hole; either way, you’re getting in the car. Don’t wanna be late for work, do you? Can you make it in 10?”

You glance at your watch and groan. He’s kept you here for five minutes and no, you can’t walk it in 10.

“Fine. Do I have to get in the back, too?”

“Keep it up and you just might.”

You don’t put up anymore of a fight and crawl into the passenger seat. Gibson starts the drive and you watch the neighborhood pass by the window.

“Why do you hate Hoffman so much?”

Mark’s last name feels strange coming out of your mouth after you’ve kissed him so much. Gibson chuckles.

“It’s not that black and white. I don’t hate him. I hate when people get unfocused and irresponsible.”

“Don’t kid yourself,” you mutter to the glass.

“What was that?”

You want his job.

“Nothing.”

Neither of you engage with the other for the rest of the trip and Gibson leaves as soon as he drops you off. You come in through the back, grinding your teeth, irreversibly on edge for the rest of the day. You slam your locked door a little too hard and Gerri looks up from the soda fountain in the alley.

“Woah there. Locker not tip you well?”

“Sorry,” you mumble. “Fuckin’… long ass story. You keep up with the news?”

Gerri shrugs. “Not really. Figure if it’s important enough I’ll hear about it. Why?”

“Well, guess you’ll hear it from me.”

You and Gerri both do your best to not neglect your tables but every time you’re at the running window or the server’s alley you’re butting heads together and whispering.

“So he’s kicked off the case? Just like that?”

“This smug little bastard- and Mark’s smug too but he wears it well at least, but this weasel has decided to make it his mission to make me miserable. Which, like, what’s the point?”

“Maybe to get back at Hoffman? What’s their beef anyway?”

The answer is delayed when a busser pushes through with a rack of dirty dishes.

“Gibson says there is no beef. Like I’m supposed to believe that.”

“Have you talked to Mark about it yet?”

“Not since last night. I don’t know what to even say. I told him we probably needed time to cool off.”

“What, like a break?”

“If you wanna call it that.”

“Sounds to me like that’s what it is.”

The busser stops in front of you two and sighs loudly.

“Can you please clear the alley!” He says unnecessarily loudly. Gerri gives him the bird.

“Fuck off, hourly wage.”

Despite the snark you both move and get the drinks you came back here for.

“I don’t know, I think you should talk to him. And what’s up with the Jigsaw guy? Do you think Ted was some sort of…message?”

Your stomach coils. “Message?”

Gerri shrugs. “I don’t know. This is the second time you’ve been involved. First time, you’re a witness and get his operation shut down. Second time it’s your ex in a trap. Not to mention…” they trail off. You raise your eyebrows.

“What?”

“I-“ they hesitate.

“Gerri, what?” You begin to grow agitated, like maybe you know the theory they’re reaching towards.

“I’m just saying, who else has been there the first time, and a second time?”

You roll your eyes.

“Gerri-“

“Am I wrong?”

“No, of course you’re not-“

“Listen, I’m not saying one way or the other, but maybe that’s why Gibson is being such a hard ass, right?”

You stutter, nearly dropping a salad onto your table. You apologize, run your routine, then catch up with them.

“Okay, so what? You think he’s in trouble? Like, prison trouble?”

“I’m Cochran all of a sudden? I don’t know. But that’s what it sounds like to me.”

Your head swims. You grab Gerri by the arm and pull them back by a serving station.

“Do you think…” you chew on your lip where a cut is beginning to form. “I mean…”

“Oh hon. I don’t know. I mean, you know him, I don’t.”

“But…I don’t know him. Not really.”

“Hey, why the change of heart?”

You don’t even realize you’ve started crying until Gerri’s handing you a napkin.

“Fuck. God, I hate crying at work.”

“Wanna go to the walk-in?”

You snort through the snot and turn away from the tables.

“Fuck you for making me laugh.”

“It’s my job, isn’t it? Don’t worry about it. So you let it cool off. Don’t call him. If he calls you, sure. If he wants to meet, do it here. I’m sure it’s all fine. Now I wish I hadn’t said a word.”

You wave your hand and use a yet-to-be-bussed cup’s condensation to wet the napkin and dab at your ruined makeup.

“No, I needed to hear it. I’ve been thinking it but I'm too scared to say it out loud. Feels like a betrayal.”

“Hey, you don’t owe the guy anything.”

“I mean, he took care of me, Ger. Patient with me, kind, slept next to me all night and didn’t do so much as touch me.”

“The bare minimum,” Gerri mutters.

“Hey, that’s not fair.”

Gerri shrugs. “Maybe. I don’t know. Just consider what I said, alright? I hope we’re both wrong. I hope this all gets straightened out, the Jigsaw killer fries and we both get big glamorous jobs and you get to fuck a hotshot detective every night of the week.”

You throw your head back in laughter and the two of you return to run food. Your heart feels a little lighter.

[wrenwinchester]

So, I started writing this snippet back in December, and it started based on the whole “and when dad came home…” line from Dean in season five. Obviously. I’m not sure if this will be included in my actual fic, but my timeline is that this happens when Sam is 11, since I couldn’t find a canon age. This is unedited, though I did read through it the other day, and it’s definitely painting John in a harsh light.

I don’t know that this fits all characteristics of how I see them, but like I said it’s unedited and I’m gonna stop stalling and just let you read if you so choose. Happy 4th of July.

TW: child abuse, canon typical violence,

Word count: 4,330

Flagstaff

Sam 11, Millie 13, and Dean 15 (we don't have a canon age for when he ran off.)

"Why do you guys have to go this time? And why can't Dean and I come too?"

Dean's head snaps towards Sam before he looks at me. And I try to hide the worry in my face, and ignore the tension growing in my shoulders as I turn away from the bag I'm packing.

Sammy's voice isn't scared, he's frustrated. I don't blame him. I'm just as tired of this shit as he is.

"Dad told you why. He needs Dean to work on research for that other case, and Dean hates doing stuff by himself. Besides. It's a simple salt and burn, we'll be a week, tops." I smile at him, hoping it's reassuring as I reach up to ruffle his hair. When did I start having to reach up to the top of his head? At least he's still shorter than me. Even if only barely.

I shake my head. And Sam deflates, going to mope in the other room. Fucking preteens, man. Goddamn. I give Dean a look of sympathy. I know he'd rather be the one going on this hunt, hell, I'd rather stay here with Sam.  At least then I'd only have to worry about one brother.

"Mills, if you don't finish packing, Dad is going to be pissed when he gets back." I nod, Dean's eyes promising me they'd be okay.

The door opens, and despite everything I tell myself, my body freezes.

"You ready to go?" Dad's voice is gruff, and I flinch as the door slams behind him. Sam comes back into the main room, ready to fight before Dean gives him a look.

I nod stiffly, not trusting myself. Unlike either of my brothers, I know what this hunt is actually about. And it's not just another hunt, but God do I wish it was.

Dad is using me as bait.

He's using me as bait, and I can't fucking tell my brothers.

"Sam, you'll be fine. Just listen to Dee, and stay out of trouble." I smile at him, reassuringly. He just nods sadly.

"Sam." Dad's voice is harsh as he says the name, and Dean and I both ready to jump in if necessary. "Stop throwing a fit over every little detail." The quiet that sweeps over the room is thick. "If you needed to be on this hunt, you would be." Sam flinches at the words, and I just want to stay and hold him.

But I can't.

Dad has already left the room, so I have to trail behind him.

I glance between my brothers before I walk out the door. Dean can handle Sammy. He always has.

...

Unsurprisingly, the hunt took longer than a week. Hell, it took almost a month, Dad ran me ragged, keeping me up late in the night figuring out what it was, because it sure as hell wasn't a ghost. (I'm still not sure what it was.) Dean had called at some point, but we were busy, and Dad yelled at me for trying to answer it. That was a week ago. I haven't heard from either of my brothers since, but frankly it was weirder that we'd gotten a call from Dean at all.

It had me worried.

But now we're on our way back to the motel where we left the boys at.

"Millicent, stop bouncing." Dad's voice is harsh, and I force my legs to hold still.

My finger starts tapping. "What was that thing, Dad?" I ask trying to distract myself from everything that could have gone wrong with my brothers.

"An Okami, they're rare in the states, 'cording to Bobby, but it stayed down, so guess we did something right." He's demeanor is so calm. It pisses me off, how can he not even be concerned about the lack of communication from Sam and Dean. I rub the bandage on my arm nervously, at least I'll see them soon.

"Interesting, why do you think there's one here now?" At least if he's talking I can pretend to be focused on that.

"No idea kiddo, but it's gone now." He reaches over to ruffle my hair, and I let him, if only because I don't want his mood to sour. "Get some rest, we've still got a couple hours 'til we're back with your brothers.

I nod and turn towards the window, watching as the sun sets and stars come out. Wishing more than anything that we were with my brothers right now.

I must have fallen asleep shortly after, because the car is now pulling into the motel parking lot.

Before Dad even has the car in park, I jump out of passenger seat, ignoring the cut in my side as it pulls from the movement.

Dad shakes his head in amusement, as I rush to the door, knowing I'll have to wait at least 5 minutes for him to get our bags and get over here with the key, but I'm too impatient.

Thankfully, I don't have to wait that long, I don't even have to do the knock. Dean opens the door, and within a second, I've wrapped my arms around his neck, and out of sheer habit, he lifts me up to swing me around.

I wince despite wanting to enjoy this rare show of affection, and Dean quickly sets me down on the sidewalk.

"Are you okay?" He asks, worry in his eyes.

I nod, "yeah, just a small cut. I'm fine." I don't mention the stitches dad had to put in, or the cut on my arm, as I check Dean over. Usually when Dad takes just Sam or I on a hunt or to practice, Dean seems healthier, at least more rested.

Dean's only response is to nod back, before turning his attention to Dad.

"Dad?" He calls out, his voice small and scared. I started to worry. Dad had looked up from the trunk of the impala, and I didn't like the look in his eye. I went into the hotel room, I didn't need to be out there, for this conversation, and I'd missed Sam too.

I checked all the rooms for Sam, but I couldn't find him. Dean wouldn't have let Sam go off on his own. I glance back towards the door as the realization dawns on me.

Sam is gone, and Dean is telling Dad right now.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Not two seconds later, Dad is storming into the motel room, Dean following behind earnestly.

"WHY THE FUCK DID YOU LET HIM GO OFF ON HIS OWN?" His voice is harsh, and once the door is closed, my heart starts beating fast. I try to step in between them, but Dad pushes me out of the way on to the floor. My heart is beating faster, and panic is setting in as I watch, disoriented from the floor.

Dad's hand is... it's wrapped around Dean's throat. De.. Dean is struggling to breathe, I can see it in his face. I try to stand up, dizzy and disoriented, I probably have a concussion now, but that's every other week at this point.

"Dad. Dad!" I rush across the room, throwing myself on Dad's arm, trying to get in-between. "Dad! You're going to kill him!" My voice is harsh, I've never been more scared. As I'm pulling on his arm to get him to set Dean down, I look in his eyes.

"Dad, please!" I'm pleading with him now, but I'd do anything to get him to stop. When he finally looks at me. He lets go of Dean, who then falls to the floor. He brings up his hand, slapping me across the face.

"He lost your brother! The Hell am I supposed to do?" He quickly turns back to Dean, moving on to wailing on him, not hard enough where people would see the bruises when Dean went back to school, but still. My heart breaks more than it ever has.

"Dad! It's not his fault!" I just wanted it all to stop, and he just hits me once in the stomach, hard enough to put me out of commission for a while.

"Enough!" Dean's also out of commission for at least a week, but Dad walks out of the motel. I don't really care where he's going, I'm just glad that he's gone for a while, and assume he's going to look for Sam, or to a bar. Probably a bar.

I crawl over to Dean.

"Dee?" My voice is strained, and I'm pretty sure I have a broken rib or two, and the cut on my side is definitely reopened.

"Are you okay, Millie?" his voice is hoarse, and I can't believe that he is asking if I'm okay, when Dad almost killed him.

"ME? What about you?" I let out a dry chuckle, "Dad almost killed you."

I'll be fine, it's nothing that hasn't happened before." He looks away from me as he says it, his voice barely above a whisper, not to mention the fact he all but lost it from Dad choking him.

My eyes soften, as my heart breaks into smaller pieces. "I knew about the hitting, that's nothing new, but he's choked you out before?" tears start welling in my eyes, and I don't mention the ones I see in his. He just nods. "Oh, Dee." I try to lean against his shoulder, but wince as the cut pulls, reminding me of reality.

"You sure you're okay Millie?" Dean asks, more like coughs.

I try to nod reassuringly, but the sting in my side has gotten worse, and my hand reaches up to grab it. "Shit." Frankly, we should both be going to the hospital, but we both know that's going to happen, and it's not even really an option.

Dean glances down to where my hand is gripping my side, and his eyes widen as he sees the blood starting to show through my shirt. Double shit.

I try to move, but I can't, it just makes it worse.

"Shit. Millie. What the hell?" Dean asks, he struggles to stand, but once he's up, he carefully lifts me up.

"Dean. Put me down. I'm fine." I try to push away from him, but everything in me wants to just close my eyes.

"No, you're not." He sets me on the bed. "Let me see it." It's not a request, but I roll my eyes, trying not to pass out as I do.

"Dean, I walked a mile out of the woods with this, then rode in the car for half an hour before Dad put the stitches in. I'll be fine for a few minutes." I hadn't meant to tell him what happened, especially not how long I'd been bleeding for, but nonetheless, it came out. Stupid delirium.

He looks at me in shock as I continue, "I mean, I didn't have a double concussion, or a broken rib, but still."

"Fuck, Millicent, what the fuck." He stares at me a second more before turning to my wound. Finally, I let him pull my shirt up to look at it. I hadn't checked it since last night, but it was fine. "Shit, Millie." he looked up at my face. I tried to ignore the rasp in his voice, it just made me angrier at Dad, and the last thing I needed was an increase in blood pressure. "I'm going to have to restitch this, and it's going to hurt like hell. Do you know which side the broken rib is? Can you tell?"

"Y-yeah," I sound breathless, and it's hard to breath. I remind myself it's nothing new, and it's not the first time I've had broken ribs. "At least one on both sides. I-I think."

"Motherfucker." Dean sighs. He shouldn't be the one doing this, but there's no one else I would really let. The only reason I let Dad was because I was too far from Dean, and I couldn't do it myself. "Okay, stay awake. I'm going to grab the first aid kit. Can you tell me what happened on the hunt? Or do you want me to tell you a story?"

He got up as he was talking, and I started to panic. "Y-you." my breathing is labored, and I think I'm in shock a little, because the reality of what just happened is just now hitting me. I shake my head. "Tell.. tell me why Sam took off, an-- and when." I say, trying to control my breathing.

When Dean comes back with the kit, he has me lay down on my left side, the side without the cut. I focus solely on Dean's voice as he talks, watching his hands move rhythmically as he sews up the cut in my side. The next few weeks are going to suck ass.

Dean tells me about a small fight he and Sam got in after Dad and I had been gone longer than a week. I nod in understanding, followed by a wince as he pulls my skin together with the floss. It wasn't the first time Sam lashed out when a hunt didn't go as planned.

Dean continues, saying Sam seemed to calm down after that, and it wasn't until a little over a week ago that Sam ran off. That's when he called. He tried to find him for a couple days before he called, but Sam never came back, and he couldn't find him.

"It's probably the most stress I've ever felt, until you guys came home, and I had to tell Dad." his voice feels distant, farther away than it should, and I can't tell if it's because I'm falling asleep, or if his voice is just that far gone.

Not long after that, he has me sit up. "This is going to suck worse, but if you're right, and you do have broken ribs, we have to wrap them." I sigh, wincing as I do, before nodding.

After I'm all patched up, and I can breathe again, I check Dean over for any open wounds, or anything, but there's nothing to patch up.

"I told you, I'm fine. You need to rest." He gets me to lay back down about an hour after he was done fixing me.

"We need to find Sam." I'm pacing now, grateful for my older brother who always watches out for me, but in this moment, I'm focusing on the fact that Sam has been missing for over a week. "Did you check the library? or the I don't know, is the county fair happening?" I ask, I know it's around that time of year, and Dean just nods.

"We're not going to find him in the next few hours, and we both are going to collapse if we don't get some rest. Come on." He practically pulls me to one of the two beds, and I reluctantly follow. He tucks me in, humming "Hey Jude" like Mom used to do before moving to sleep on the other bed.

"Where are you going?" I ask confused, it's almost never a question on whether or not he and I share a bed, hell we still occasionally all three share a bed.

"Millie Wren, you have at least two broken ribs, and a hole in your side," he sounds flabbergasted as he says it, "I'm not risking hurting you in our sleep."

"Dee, please. You know I don't sleep without sharing a bed with someone." That gets him, and he rolls his eyes.

"Dammit Wren, It's not my fault if you get hurt." I smile because for once he actually sounds like a brother, so I just nod in agreement.

A few minutes later, with the lights off, and both of us comfortable in the bed, Dean says, "are you still awake?" I turn my head to face him.

"It's only been five minutes, of course I'm awake." I tease, but even in the dark, I can see the seriousness of the conversation he wants to have.

"We can't tell Sam what Dad did when he found out. It was my job to protect him and I failed, it makes sense, and you know that getting in between makes things worse, it was bound to happen. It makes complete sense why Dad did what he did. He's scared of losing us like we lost Mom." I nod in agreement.

"You're right. Dad's reasons make sense, and We need to protect Sam." He nods and we both turn to look up at the ceiling instead. It's one of those popcorn ceilings, the textured ones. "You know I'm always going to step in right?" I ask him after a minute, and I feel his eyes turn to me as I talk. "You're not the only one instructed to protect their siblings, and that includes you. Besides, I can handle the yelling, the beating, as long as it's directed at me. You and Sam... You guys are my weaknesses."

"I really wish you wouldn't, but I understand why you will." With that comment, the conversation ends as we both know we have an understanding.

The next morning comes quickly, and movement is quickly stifled by pain and stiffness throughout my body. As I sit up, I glance over towards Dean's side of the bed, he's still sleeping, understandably so. Yesterday was one of the rougher days we've had. I glanced over to the other bed, it was untouched, Dad hadn't been back. I just hoped he was looking for Sammy rather than sitting passed out in a bar somewhere.

I slowly move towards the bathroom, the last time I'd been was like 18 hours ago. My mind wanders to Sam, what he's doing right now, if he's safe or not, and what Dad's reaction is going to be when he finds him. I shudder at the last thought before I remember that despite his loud opposition of Dad's orders, he is the golden child.

It takes me a while in the bathroom, literally every muscle in my body aches, I carefully lift up my shirt after I wash my hands, and I see the huge bruise on my left side and back from where Dad threw me on the floor. I sigh.

By the time I slowly walk out of the bathroom Dean is up, and we are ready to go look for Sam.

A couple more days pass by before Dad finally comes back, without Sam. Shit.

He's calmer now, and I can't smell any alcohol, but that doesn't mean he hasn't been drinking. Dean and I are walking on eggshells around him, not knowing what might set him off.

When Dad passes out around 2 that afternoon, a thought occurs to me. "Hey, Dean?" I whisper to avoid waking Dad up. He looks up from the news paper where he is reading for any approximately 11 year old John Does that might have turned up in the past couple weeks, there's nothing. "Isn't Flagstaff around here?" I ask, as an idea forms in my head that I can't believe we didn't think of sooner.

His eyes light up as realization dawns on his face. "Shit, Yeah it is." He looks like his brain is moving a thousand miles a minute. "Holy Fuck, I can't believe we never looked there." He doesn't have to worry about whispering, because even though his voice is mostly back, it's still pretty raspy.

"We have to wake Dad up." I say, anxiety coating my words. "It's the only place that makes sense, and you can't drive the car by yourself.

"Dammit, I hate that you're right." His voice is weary, but somehow less raspy.

"We could wait until he wakes up on his own?" I offer, but we both know it's a bad idea. We'd likely get another beating for waiting to go get Sam from whatever trouble he got himself into. Dean just looks at me. "I know. I know."

"Go to the other room, Millie, I'll wake him up." Dean says, courage building in his voice, but I can hear the fear he's trying to hide.

"No, we're doing this together. I'm not letting you take the heat for this by yourself." I sound a lot more confident than I feel, but Dean doesn't push. Very carefully we wake him up.

Neither one of us gets yelled at, a welcome surprise, instead, he makes both of us get in the car as he drives to Flagstaff. The car is silent the whole ride.

When we get there, Dad instructs Dean and I to stay in the car. We obey. We've gotten whooped enough times this week, we weren't about to open the door to another one.

Dad goes in to a diner in town to check with locals about whether or not they've seen Sam. Dean and I diligently stay put, the silence in the car beginning to get overbearing. Dad talks inside the diner for a good half an hour or more, and just when Dean and I give each other a look considering disobeying orders, I see Sam.

"Dee..." I start.

"Millie, you heard what Dad said--" he started.

"No, Dean, look. It's Sam." I point out his window, and within a second, both of us are jumping out of the car, broken ribs and all, though at this point the cut is mostly healed.

"SAM!" Dean yells across the street. Sammy turns to face us, shock and wonder crossing his face.

"DEE!" he yells, before he sees me behind him. "MILLIE, YOU'RE BACK!!" I smile at him as relief settles over me, at least he's okay. Sam quickly looks both ways before making his way over to Dean and I. Despite his frustration, I can see Dean's relief in the slump of his shoulders and everything about how he's holding himself.

"I swear to God, Sammy, if you ever, and I mean EVER, do something like this again, I'm gonna throttle you myself," Dean says before giving him another hug. Sam knows nothing but empty threats like this, and I know that is all it is.

I hug both my brothers. "If either of you ever disappear on me again, I'm going to beat your asses." I say, before allowing Dean to guide us back to the car.

"Bitches." Dean says, pointing his word at both of us.

"Assholes."

"Fu-" Sam starts, but Dean and I both stare at him, he just rolls his eyes. "Jerks." I smile at the normalcy of just the three of us, until I remember one of us has to go get Dad.

Dean and I shove Sam into the car, not meanly, just making sure he's not going to slip away again before Dean says, "I'll go get Dad." I just shake my head.

"No way, I'll get him, he'll be softer on me, I'll be fine." Dean starts to object, but I cut him off, "Dean, you've taken the brunt of it this week, let me do this, and one of us needs to keep an eye on Sam." Reluctantly, Dean concedes. It's not like Dad is going to beat us in public, and then Sam will be back, so he'll be in a better mood.

Dean gets in the car next to Sammy, and I turn around sighing, it'll be fine. He's not gonna do anything that might cause suspicion from locals. I force myself to relax, before I walk into the diner after my dad.

It looks the same as most other diners I've been in across the country, a row of booths, a row of tables, and the counter. I glance around the room for Dad. I know he's in here somewhere, he has to be.

As I'm scanning the room for the third time, I finally see him, he's hunched over the counter a coffee in his hands as he's just sitting there. Sam's missing and he's sitting there.

Okay, well, Sam's not missing anymore, but he doesn't know that. I shove my anger down, I have to hold the family together, so I cautiously walk to where he's seated halfway across the diner.

"Dad," my voice sounds small, and I watch him fight the urge to snap at me for disobeying.

"Millie," his voice is strained. "I thought I told you to wait in the car?" It's not a question, he's giving me an out. Do other thirteen year olds think about this stuff, are they this cautious around their dads?

"Yes, sir, but Sam came back." I just blurt it out before he can cut me off, before the anger he's so good at pushing down boils over.

A weight seems to lift off of Dad's shoulders. Perhaps relief, perhaps he's no longer grieving his youngest child, perhaps he's just glad he's not in danger or hurt, or dead. "Good. Go wait in the car, I'll be out in a few minutes."

"Yes sir," I nod, turning around (practically in a perfect military style about face, but that's irrelevant). I go back out to the car, and join my brothers in the back seat of the Impala.

"Everything okay, Millie?" Dean asks, the worry lacing his tone only so much that I could tell, but Sam couldn't. Years of training our expressions taught us that one.

"Yeah, he says he'll be out in a few minutes." Dean nods, and we continue to sit in silence.

"Is Dad mad at me?" Sam asks, and my heart breaks. It's not something he should have to worry about. Ever. "I know I shouldn't have run off, I was just so frustrated."

Dean and I share a look before he looks back at Sam, "Dad could never be mad at you, you just scared him. You can't run off without telling anyone, okay?"

"Okay, Dee."

[forvalkyrie]

been watching chicago med and i’m either on s3 or s4 BUT i am starting to absolutely despise natalie manning and her character (ill put it under a readmore because i got a lot of words and she absolutely disgusts me)

First off, I know that she's an ER doc specializing in peds (though, maybe its because of how fast I watched everything but I never saw any epi specifically say that but its there whatever).

My disgust comes from how 1)she approaches people that aren't physically/mentally/emotionally prepared to have children and 2)how hypocritical she is. So lets get into it:

Her approach to her patients with children: I appreciate her dedication to childcare– whether this be giving the child the best of care or advocating for their rights when the guardian/parent(s) aren't listening. The thing... some of the things she's done or said are so surface-level, that they don't account for what happens after they leave the ER. Take the epi where she accidentally got a mother and her baby separated because she suspected child abuse due to a stained hematoma from child birth. Her medicine was sound, of course— anyone would suspect child abuse in that scenario. What I didn't like, and this patient (abbrev. pt) rightfully called out, was her judgemental ass. Like listen, I've worked in the medical field for years and even if you are judgemental towards something, you should NEVER let it affect how you treat/care for pt. Nat says she judged teh mom for being a single mother raising her child but... babygirl, you're a GD doctor. Your mother-in-law literally watches your kid FOR FREE. Your husband died from war– you know exactly who he is! That single mother was literally working two jobs just to support her and her baby. She even said that she doesn't know who the dad is so clearly she can't just "drop" the kid off at grandma's. People literally do the best that they can in the situation that they're in, whether purposeful or accidental. Whether or not they make sense is a wholedifferent thing. Like the other epi where the pt's older brother was a sociopath and the parents decided not to institutionalize him. As outsiders, ofc we'd be on Nat's side about taking him away from hurting his brother. But that's the thing– we are outsiders!! Nat's saying all this stuff yet if put in the same situation, she'd likely do the same thing as what those parents did and continue to keep him around. The decision to have kids is already an unfortunately loaded question but what about after? She has little to no care of her pts past the exit. This can get longwinded so if anyone wants more lmk otherwise imma stop here for this.

Hypocrisy: She's a straightup hypocrite. Early seasons, she followed most of the rules. She wasn't Will, ya know? But what got to me was how the show writes her cases. Ex. she had changed a treatment plan that Will was against because she didn't think it was that. Mind you, Will's under fire from that DNR incident. Before the autopsy, Will is rightfully angry that she switched treatment plans, despite her trying to justify it. Never change a treatment plan! Even with disagreements, shit will happen. There are contraindications, there are escalations, there's a bunch of different things that can happen even if the change is small. Not only was Will trying to be a good doctor, he was also trying to be a law-abiding, rule-following doctor. What about the time when she fought tooth and nail to use an experimental, not FDA-approved (not even a multi-stage study) drug to treat a cancer pt. Ofc, Will is furious that she's adamant on the switch and lo-behold, the pt dies. Now, this concoction could've worsen the cancer right? Except, rather than writing it so it either didn't have an effect or had a miniscule effect, the autopsy revealed that her concoction actually shrank it a few cms. Aint no fucking way that it did that-- mainly because there were no clinical trials documenting it. I mean, GIRL, WHAT ABOUT THE SIDE EFFECTS? Medicine isnt a magic potion unforunately. The time when she went off on that skivvy priest and his 14-year old wife is also on my list. She yells at Will or whatever doctor about professionalism but her attitude towards him (though RIGHTFULLY SO) was peak unprofessionalism. I mean there is a lot of bureaucracy in almost any institution, whether profit or nonprofit, but when anyone else breaks it, they get serious consequences. When Nat does it, its just a damn warning. Hell! What about when they induced a death-appearing coma to the guy that was abusing his wife? Shittt son, I'm surprised Will agreed to that given his DNR incident. God forbid that pt actally fucking died-- they both would've lost theirmedical licenses.

I just have so much to say! She gives me 'popular in HS' vibes since she is "always" right, rarely gets any true punishment/consequences and yaps of unprofessionalism to other people when she literally does the same thing. What crossed it for me and its the reason why I'm writing this now is when she snapped at Dr. Charles when she cut the dosage in half for a bipolar pregnant mother. You mean to tell me that YOU were in the right because you don't have time to keep up with every new psych journal? You literally specialize in peds– youre supposed to keep up with any and everything child-related, including pregnancies! Chief! God forbid there's new research and because you dont have fucking time to do some research (or at least keep up with medical literature), you end up killing a pt due to ignorance.

Maybe its how the writers are writing her but she's just... DISGUSTING. As a self-identifying female, I'm all about feminine/female power but this? Nah chief– Maggie is better written than she is and she's "just a charge nurse"!