#like he didn't even say i looked pretty or my make-up looked good or anything really

[lady0mandy]

TL;DR: Fatshaming did not motivate me to lose weight, it programmed me to always hate my body, no matter the size.

Just wanted to weigh in with my personal experience with this matter. I was fat shamed, primarily by my mother, from the time I hit puberty. I was borderline underweight at this time, but my mother would still get on me about losing weight so I didn't get "bloatus of the toadus" or whatever the fuck she used to call it. In highschool it got a lot worse, with her criticizing my stomach every time she saw it and openly making comments about my body around family, friends, etc. I stopped letting her visit the doctor with me because I didn't want to hear her giving me shit every time they weighed me. She even asked the photographer who took my senior photos to edit them to make me skinnier (he was very uncomfortable and luckily did not do that). I repeatedly tried to explain to her why this behavior is inappropriate, and I would always get the same responses: "I'm just worrying about you" "I just care about you" "I just want you to be healthy" etc.

When I was 19 I broke my spine. As a result I put on about 15-20lbs and let me tell ya, all hell broke loose. The guy I was seeing at the time was fatphobic and would fatshame me on a daily basis while also trying to control what I ate and what I did in my spare time. I repeatedly tried to explain to him why what he was doing was hurting me, and all he could say was "it hurts because it is true" Eventually I had enough and kicked him to the curb. I remember trying to confide in my family about his cruel behavior and each time my mom couldn't help but chime in "he's right, you know!".

Do you know what over a decade of fatshaming did for me? Well, first of all it gave me a pretty messy eating disorder. Some days I wouldn't eat anything. Some days I would eat everything. Some days I would purge until nothing was left. However, it wasn't until I developed thyroid cancer that I saw a genuine change in my weight. I put on 50lbs fairly quickly and it had a detrimental impact on my self esteem. My entire life I had been told my worth was dependent on how skinny I was, and now I was rapidly gaining weight. I started hearing the same things my mother and ex used to tell me, but from a lot of other people as well. I quit making my silly little tiktoks and sharing my silly little opinions on the Internet because I couldn't handle the waves of trolls coming at me for my weight. I quit wearing makeup because I felt that I didn't deserve it. I quit dressing up because I felt I didn't deserve it. I couldn't look at photos of myself without wanting to cry. I couldn't eat a meal without feeling guilt and shame. I didn't feel motivated by their cruelty, I felt defeated. I felt helpless. I felt like a disgusting waste of space that didn't deserve to live.

I have made some major improvements over the past year or so. I have been working with a therapist on the ED for a couple years now and this past year I have done really well. I still have days where I don't eat, but I can't remember the last time I purged or over ate. I got my thyroid out, and my weight is returning to where it was. People have been complimenting me, telling me how great I look, how noticeable it is, how hard I must be working, etc and instead of making me feel happy or proud it just makes me feel like shit. I still hate who I see in the mirror. I still hate my stomach and my chin and the fat around my arms. I bought some new makeup and I'm trying to put more effort into my appearance, but all I see in the mirror is a clown. Fatshaming did not motivate me to lose weight, it programmed me to always hate my body, no matter the size.

Anyways, I doubt anybody is going to read all this but it felt good to type it out. Don't fatshame. It never helps.

The number of times I've earnestly seen the take "but it's good for fat people to be mean to them! It motivates them to lose weight!"

Also whenever you provide even light pushback that maybe bullying people does not magically make them skinny but instead makes them depressed, they immediately demand scientific sources as if "bullying fat people is good for them" is scientific concensus and you therefore owe them a peer reviewed paper.

No babe I'm so sorry you're not actually doing people a service by being an asshole to them you just want an acceptable target and have decided that fat people are one. You don't get to be a bad person until you've produced 3 peer reviewed meta analyses that being a dick to random fat people improves their health, OK? I'm sure people will thank you for your invaluable service of being an asshole.

[navybrat817]

Hey- if you're still taking prompts for ficlet Friday- Bucky and #31- pinky swear.

Oh, this is sweeet! How about more of our drunk!Bucky before that night out?

Pinky Swear

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: Over 800

Warnings: Talk of fear of heights, backstory, slight angst, slight fluff

A/N: Takes place before Pretty Girl.

Bucky deeply inhaled the cool evening air and exhaled slowly. He hadn't moved from his spot on the outdoor sofa since he sat down, but he knew the number of steps it would take to get from his seat to the door. Looking at the rooftop guardrail, he reminded himself it was more than tall and sturdy enough to prevent anyone from falling. He was fine. Everything was fine.

“Bucky!” your pretty voice beckoned to him over the rest of the chatter from the group. “Come look at this view.”

Finding a stable point to look at was always good practice when he was afraid, and who better to look at than you? His pretty girl. You weren't technically his girl, but you were in his heart and you looked extra pretty tonight. He told himself the reason his heart stopped was because of how pretty you looked and not because of how close you were to the guardrail.

And here you wanted him to join you, but his body wouldn't move.

“I’m good right here,” he said, his smile tight. He gripped his beer bottle so tight he almost shattered it.

“You sure?” you smiled over your shoulder.

All he had to do was take a breath, get up, and join you. His head spun at the very thought, and he couldn't do it. He was a fucking coward. “I’m good,” he said again.

There was a frown on your pretty face as you went over to the sofa and sat beside him. “Hey. Are you okay?”

You always seemed to know when he was feeling off and he wanted to remove the concern from your eyes. “I don't…”

“You don't what?”

He inhaled and exhaled again, and he felt your pretty gaze on him as he ran a hand through his hand. There was nothing wrong with telling you. Maybe it would make him feel better. “I don't like heights,” he said above a whisper, feeling some of his anxiety subside.

It stemmed from his childhood when he lost his dad in a parachute accident, and it never went away. The fear only got worse when he fell from the train. When he was under HYDRA’s command, he wasn't allowed to experience fear. They locked it away deep inside with the rest of him. Now that was himself again, his fears came back to the surface stronger than before.

“Oh, Bucky.” You moved a little closer and angled your body as if to shield him from the view. It was sweet of you. “Are you okay?”

His jaw clenched, but he nodded. “I'm fine as long as I don't go to the railing.”

Your eyes widened and he felt like shit when he saw the guilt that swam there. “Oh, my God. I'm so sorry. I wouldn't have asked you to look if-”

“Don’t be. You had no idea,” he said, putting his hand over yours and quickly pulling away when he realized what he did. “I know you wouldn't have asked if you knew.” You were one of the most thoughtful people in his life. If you knew in advance that he hated heights, you not only would've kept him far from the railing, but you would've made the gang move the gathering somewhere else to accommodate him.

“No, I wouldn’t push you out of your comfort zone,” you confirmed, staring at your hand where he touched it.

“You’d somehow widen the comfort zone so I felt okay,” he smiled. That was the kind of person you were.

“Maybe,” you smiled. “May I ask you something?”

“Sure,” he nodded. Anything you wanted.

“If you don't like heights, what made you come up here?” you asked curiously.

You.

But he didn't admit that you were the reason. It would've been the right time or place. “I… I don't want it to be a big deal. Besides, I wouldn't look like a team player if I skipped,” he answered, and he was telling the truth. You were still the number one reason though.

“Well, if you aren't feeling it, we can go to the lounge. Just say the word,” you offered.

“We?” he repeated.

You played with the hem of your shirt, which made him smile. “Yeah, I mean, if you want the company.”

Bucky always wanted your company. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he smiled, leaning in a little closer. “And listen. I know this is silly, but if you could not say anything. Steve’s the only one who knows and…”

Bucky was learning to be vulnerable again. He was trying. And if there was anyone who wouldn’t use his fears against him even in a joking manner, it was you. He trusted you.

“I won't say a word,” you whispered.

“You swear?” he smiled.

You surprised him by wrapping your pinky around his, and your touch would linger long after you let go. “Pinky swear.”

Love and thanks for participating in Ficlet Friday! ❤️ And we still need him to confess.

[sturnslutz]

mustang baby.

please don't read if you are uncomfortable with the slight topic of disobeying religion.

after school, matt and you texted a bit, just telling him where you live at and the subtle flirting, more so coming from him. matt had texted you about 10 minutes ago that he was 15 min away, so that gives you about 5 more minutes to recollect yourself.

you wore a simple pink dress, that was a little short, but it wasn't like he was taking you to a restaurant, he was probably just going to drive around, smoke a bit, and then go to his house.

to say you were nervous was a understatement. matt had this energy that made you more shy than you actually were. while you were trying to collect your thoughts, your phone rang.

you looked over, it was matt. you picked it up.

"hey pretty. 'm outside."

"okay, im coming."

you heard him hum in response, so you hungup and got into your shoes. you walked out of your house and was met with a 1965 ford mustang. you smiled at the car, admiring it as he got out of the driver's seat, walking to the other side and opening the door for you.

"hey, baby. go ahead." he smirked at you, kissing your head as you smiled and muttered a small, "hi" back to him. you got into the warm car and was overcome quickly by the lingering smell of weed.

he closed the door, being mindful of your knees before, walking back to his side. he slid back in, sighing, and starting the car. the heater turned on, and the soft music of deftones filled the car.

"y'comfy?" he asked as he turned his head to you, while starting to drive the car out of your neighborhood. "yeah, very." you smiled softly at him, before he nodded, paying his attention back to the road.

"y'look really good. i like this dress." he said softly, reaching his hand over, tugging the edge of the dress softly, causing a chill to run through you. "really? thank you. i didn't know if it was too immodest or anything." you admit, your voice getting a bit louder than your whispers before.

you heard matt laugh softly and scoff. "immodest? baby, i'ont care about that. look at me, im the definition of that shit. you religious or sum?" you laugh softly at his response. "kinda. i don't really know. my parents are, but i'm not too interested in it." he nodded, understanding.

"mmm, alright. i get that. so like you a virgin or somethin'?" he asks, more calm than before, but now looking at you for your response. "um, yeah. i haven't done anything before, actually. i haven't even had my first kiss or held hands with anyone. except like my mom, i guess."

his eyebrows raise in a bit of shock at your admission. "really? that's kinda crazy. not to you, but it's like now kinda hard to find someone who hasn't done a single thing. it's not bad though, baby. y'just saving yourself for someone special, huh?"

you nod in response to his question. you would never admit this to him, but you would be more than glad to allow him to do everything to you. even if you didn't know what "everything" was, you would allow him to do it.

he nods back to you, redirecting his attention back to the road, letting his right hand fall on your thigh, starting to rub your thigh softly. "this okay?" "y-yeah."

he smirks as he feels goosebumps rise on your skin, as he leans his hand farther down into your thigh, now rubbing your inner thigh so close to the point you needed him, but he didn't know that yet.

he pulled up to a well known park in downtown boston and parked underneath some trees. he turned off the engine, but making no move to get out. "are we gonna go outside?" you say softly, looking over to him. he shook his head, rubbing your thigh still.

"nah, i jus' wanted to come and smoke a bit. i jus' wanna talk. we gonna head back to my house though and we can chill if you want." he says softly as he pulls a joint and lighter out of his pocket. he pulls his hand away from your thigh to help him light it.

smoke filled the car as he rolled down his window a bit to not suffocate the both of you. you both remained in silence as his hand falls back down to your thigh. "y'good?" he says, smoke flowing out of his mouth. you nod and hum back in response. you eye the blunt in his mouth, which catches his attention. "here. open your mouth. y'know what shotgunning is? not the beer kind." you shake your head no, and he grabs your jaw softly, pulling you closer to him.

"y'okay with me kissing you?" he asks softly, making sure. your eyes widen a bit as the thought rings through your mind, before nodding. he smirks, taking a hit and leaning his mouth to you, your lips touching as smoke fills your mouth. you're caught off guard as he mutters a soft, "inhale f'me." against your mouth before pulling away.

you do so, and blow the smoke out. he smirks as he rubs your jaw softly, pulling you to him again, but his blunt dangling from his left hand. he kisses you softly, and you do the same, following his movements. he notices you becoming more into it, so he lets his tongue run against your lip, which you open your mouth to, letting his tongue into your mouth.

his grip on your jaw becomes a bit tighter, as he kisses you with more passion. you continue to follow his movements, creating a perfect sync between the two of you. he pulled away from you, both of you desperate for air. he smirks at you, once he realizes he was your first kiss.

he leans back in his seat, letting his hand come off your jaw, falling back to your thigh. he pulls the blunt back to his lips, the smoke filling the car once again. you sit back in your seat, your face flushed. you just had your first kiss with matt sturniolo.

some time passes as you calm into the slight high you were experiencing. "so why'd you transfer to shs?" you say without a thought before.

he sighed before speaking. "i got expelled out of full circle. some dumb shit. so me and my brothers switched to shs." you nodded. "your brothers are chris and nick, right?" he nods, looking at you. "y'know them?" "yeah, me and nick have art together and me and chris have a couple classes together. im friends with both of them."

"a'ight. yeah, i figured they would like you. i also heard people refer to you as 'angel.' that what you go by?" you shrug softly. "yeah. no one really calls me my actual name besides teachers and my parents sometimes. you can call me it too." he laughs softly.

"oh, trust me i will. it's a hot name for you." you roll your eyes, smiling at his teasing. his blunt died out, so he started his engine again. "m' good at driving, trust me. we'll be good."

he started driving home, and his house wasn't that far from the park. he pulled into his driveway, shutting off his engine. his hand patted your thigh before getting out of the car, walking over to your side and opening your door.

you got out of the car, stretching. he put his hand on your back, following next to you as the both of you walked up to his door. "my parents aren't home, but my brothers are." you smiled at the thought of your friends being there, and nodded. he opened the door, allowing you to go first.

chris was on the couch and looked up to the door and his eyes lit up. "angel? what are you doing here?" he got up and walked over, giving you a friendly hug. "we're hanging out." matt replied for you. you didn't see, but chris gave him a confused look. "angel, nick is in his room, lemme talk to matt real quick. his room is down the hall over there." chris said to you softly, pointing to the hall. you nodded, walking over and making your way to nick's room, talking to him.

once chris noticed you closed nick's door, he looked back at matt. "what the fuck? you aren't getting with her." matt scoffed as he leaned against the wall next to him. "yeah, right. like i listen to you. it's not like i'm gonna hurt her. at least not that i plan to anytime soon." chris rolls his eyes at this, knowing matt's reputation.

"angel's gonna fall for you. y'know that. you're gonna fuck her and leave. i know how you are, matt. you can't do that to her." matt quickly defended himself. "you don't know shit about me, chris. we might be brothers, but you don't know how my mind works. i might be a piece of shit, but i'm not gonna hurt her."

"whatever." chris rolls his eyes and walks away from matt. matt makes his way to nick's room. "c'mon angel, let's go to my room." you nodded, getting up off of nick's bed, and walking out. matt showed you to his room, closing the door.

he fell onto his bed, dragging you with him. you got comfortable next to him, getting under his blanket. he kissed your lips softly, which you reciprocated. his hand rubbed your covered hip softly. he pulled his lips away from you, rubbing your cheek. "m' not gonna do anything else with you, tonight. i wanna keep your innocence a bit longer."

you nodded at this, kissing his lips once again. after a bit, he pulled away again. "y'sleeping over?" you hummed, nodding. "yeah, my parents are out of town. i don't have any extra clothes though." he shook his head, standing up and walking to his dresser. "here. wear some of my clothes." he handed you a clean shirt and some of his boxers. he turned around as you begin changing.

"im done." he turned back around, smirking at the sight of you in his clothes. he grabbed your dress, throwing it into his hamper, making a silent reminder to wash it and give it back.

he leaned back down next to you, and you rested your head against his shoulder. he let his hand fall onto your back, rubbing it softly. he noticed your breathing get slower over time as you fell asleep, and he allowed himself to sleep too.

sure he was a dirtbag, but he didn't want to hurt you.

@muwapsturniolo @lovergirl4gracieabrams @m4ttg1rl @lypsiiii @tyummyz @sturniqlo @emely9274 @shadowthesim @mattsobvimyfav @sturnl0ve @wastelandzella @fallininlust @chrisslut04 @angeliijay12-blog @sophand4n4 @vainilladollie @slutforchrissturniolo2 @ncm9696 @snoopychris @sofieeeeex @chr0mehrts @cockettechris @iloveduckssm @stvrnioloslvt @sturn777 @priscillaog @allylovescody @sturniolo101 @mattybsgroupie comment to be added or removed.

[milktrician]

Hello hello! :D

SQH-SY siblings au for the ask game, please?

I'm pretty sure I wrote this after someone wrote a text post about the idea but idk if I would be able to track that down, or if it existed at all and I'm misremembering. Anyway, I didn't really have a set plot in mind after I wrote this short snippet other than it would be very funny for Shen Yuan to try and actively sabotague Shang Qinghua's efforts to become head disciple of An Ding while looking as innocent as possible. I don't think I'm going to write anymore for this idea as I have other wips I want to focus on but feel free anyone to write out their own interpretation! Anyways, here's what I wrote a few weeks back:

[ Activation code: “Dumbfuck author, dumbfuck novel.” System automatically triggered ]

What? What the fuck is this?

[ Host is in the midst of transmigration! ]

No—what? This is a dream, Airplane’s stupid fucking writing must have made me pass out!

Rrgh! I need to punch the fucker IRL!

[ Host would like to see Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky? ]

YES!

[ Beginning transmigration… ]

What?

“Oh! It’s a boy!”

“W-Wait what? Doctor, didn’t you say it was going to be a girl?”

What the hell?

He feels himself get wrapped within a cloth, and suddenly he's enveloped in warmth. He’s being…held?

Any attempt to move his limbs is caught by the cloth wrapped around him. His tongue presses against toothless gums, and his vision is too blurry to make out anything.

No…

“Haha, well surprises always happen! Did you have a name in mind if you two had another son?”

“Ah, well I suppose we never gave any thought to it. A-Yu, you’re always good at coming up with names with your little stories, how about you name your little brother?”

No…

“You…ah, shouldn’t it be up to you two? Like erm. Tradition or something? Like this is a whole baby I sh-shouldn’t be responsible for the name he’ll be called for the rest of his life!”

A woman then laughs above him, 

“A-Yu, I think I’m much too tired to think right now. You’re a smart boy, any name you come up with I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

He…died. 

Transmigration’s real!?

AND HE’S A BABY!

Oh—whoever this person is, please don’t name him something stupid.

[ Don’t worry Host! This System has you covered! ]

“…Yuan?” Whoever “A-Yu” is, he said that like he wasn’t even sure of it himself! Thank god he still has his old name in this life at least.

“Shang Yuan…I like that.”

System…where have I transmigrated?

[ This System operates in line with the design concept “YOU CAN YOU UP, NO CAN NO BB”; we hope to provide you with the best possible experience. It is our sincere wish that during your time, you can fulfill your desires and, in accordance to your wish, ‘see Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky’ ]

[ Congratulations! Congratulations! Congratulations! Important things must be said three times! ]

What now?!

[ User has completed his wish! ]

I…did?

[ Entering Limited Sandbox Mode! Feel free to explore within the constraints of the plot! ]

[ We hope you enjoy the world of Proud Immortal Demon Way! ]

WHAT?

“Ah! He’s crying, give him here.”

“Ahh. You’re so cute lil bro! Cutest baby in the whole wide world!”

A-Yu, or Shang Hongyu, is his new older brother in this life and is maybe eight or nine years older than him. He’s apparently very smart for his age, and their parents are already tutoring him to take over their father’s business.

He hears his older brother sniffle,

“Too bad you’ll probably never see me again in a few years.” he says, “I’ve gotta head to Cang Qiong and make my way up An Ding in the next few years.”

Hold on a second.

His older brother holds him tight against his chest, and from here he can feel his breath shudder.

“I’ve never had a sibling by blood before.”

He’s brought to his sibling’s bed and his brother lays next to him lazily.

“Just a few more years and you guys won’t have to see me again.” his brother says to noone, “They’re…surprisingly good parents, didi. Once they don’t have me to worry about, they can spoil you as much as you want.”

Geez, what kind of weird complex do you have?

Though. Shang surely is a common surname right? Lots of Shangs to go to An Ding!

System where in the timeline are we?

[ System is currently in maintenance for future updates! ]

Fine. He’ll figure it out his own way!

His own chubby fingers are able to grab onto his brother’s robe.

“Gege.” He says, to the best of his ability with his shitty little baby mouth.

He doesn’t expect his brother to burst out crying and start to hug him tight.

[lixiesbrowniess]

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐒

Chapter Ⅰ

Professor!Jensen x Student!Fem!Reader

Reader is 22 Jensen is 35

Warnings: Nsfw, contains smut, angst, fluff, sexual tension, shyness, age gap, brat!fem/brat tamer!male, professor/student size difference, size kink, blowjob, fingering, almost getting caugth, unprotected sex, overstimulation, dominant/submissive, p in v, vanilla sex, rough sex, sliiight roleplay, slight forbidden love

Words count: 3.790k Reading time: 11 min

@le3n4a-23 helped me proofread this ( ´∀`)

Dividers cr. @cafekitsune check out the blog it's sooo pretty

Follow the don't like don't read rule please - MINORS DNI

You walked to the now empty classroom. You had to meet up with your professor, Mr Ackles, about your attitude in class these days... laughing during lessons, not paying attention, and not doing your tasks. Mr Ackles looked very much pissed when he told you to come meet him after class.

"Take a seat." His eyes pratically burned holes through your skull as you walked in. His voice rough and husky, like he had just woken up, your body moving casually "Sure Mr Ackles" she scoffs sitting on the chair in front of the desk, your bratty attitude testing his patience.

He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, mumbling something under his breath, before looking back up at you. He crosses his arms over his chest and speaks again, a bit more harsh. "You know why you're here, correct?" You sighed. "Maybe." You curse to yourself, trying to shut the hell up with your attitude.

He raises an eyebrow and leans back in his chair, letting out a sharp exhale "Maybe is not an acceptable answer. You're here because you were being disruptive during class and didn't submit the homework that was given. Again." he rumbles. You open your mouth to talk back, but you stop yourself biting down on your lip, preventing words from flowing out.

He notices your behaviour, and his frown slowly becomes a scowl. "Are you going to say something, or are you just going to sit there in silence?" his green eyes burning into yours.

"Well, Mr Ackles, maybe I'm not so good during your lessons cause I'm bored." Words falling out of your lips before you even process, but damn, was Mr Ackles always that hot when pissed?

He scoffs at your words, clearly not amused by your attitude. "Bored? That's your excuse? You do realize it's your job to do the work, right?" his voice raspy now. "Not my job to make it interesting for you. I've caught you laughing in class and talking to your friends instead of working, more times than I can count. You're starting to get on my nerves, missy."

Your mind running at the nickname "Am I Mr Ackles?" You scoff, there's a moment of silence. Your heart starts racing. As he gets up from his seat, you shift in your seat, the skirt feeling suddenly shorter than ever and pretty tight.

He took a few steps closer to you. The look in his eyes was stern and they seemed colder than before. He spoke with authority. You could see him clenching his jaw... oh, the jaw clenching No focus. "Are you trying to piss me off, or are you just a natural?"

You can't help but press your thighs together under the little desk. "I'm not trying anything, Sir." You dare with that word. His eyes linger on your face for a moment before noticing your thighs being pushed together. His jaw clenches tighter as he quickly looks back up at your face and speaks again, sounding just as stern. "Is that right? Then why are you acting like a complete pain in the ass today, huh?"

"Oh really? I didn't notice." Your voice slightly higher, looking away from his taller figure while you shift onto your seat. Damn he looked hotter when stern and pissed. He stepped forward, now standing directly in front of you and leaned down on the desk so that he was leaning over you and staring you down.

"Oh, you most definitely are acting like a brat right now. And I have zero patience left for it. I'd watch your tone, little girl." You inhale deeply hearing him call you that, thighs helplessly pressing together. "I can't exactly concentrate on your lessons while you steal all my attention." She bites back, faking some sarcasm.

He raises an eyebrow at your comment, not expecting a snarky response like that from you. He can't help but notice your behaviour, and it makes him feel slightly flustered, although he doesn't let it show on his face. He leans a little closer to you, still speaking sternly. "Oh, are you saying I'm distracting you, hm?"

"Totally." You murmur, looking away, feeling him come closer. Fuck, was he testing you? 'Cuz you could actually fall for it. He smirked slightly at your answer, enjoying the fact that you were actually being honest for once. He leaned in even closer, his voice was a bit deeper as he spoke, but his tone still held the same authority. "And what is it exactly that's so distracting about me, hm?"

"You do know all the female audience at your lessons calls you Mr sexy right?" you ask, slightly losing yourself into his green eyes. No snap out of it. He raised an eyebrow in surprise, not expecting you to actually say that out loud. he chuckled slightly, his expression turning into a cocky one as he spoke,

"Really? Called Mr. Sexy? I never knew about that." You nod, not expecting the change in his tone when he gets bit cocky, his hand running onto his trimmed beard. Your breath hitching when he leans in his big hands onto your desk as he supports himself, his face closer now breath slightly against your skin as he spoke, his cologne musky in your nostrils.

"And judging by the way you're sitting in your chair, I'm guessing you agree with the students." She remains silent, slightly biting her lip to keep quiet, unknowingly shifting in her chair. Again.

He notices your small reactions, and it makes him feel pleased. He smirks to himself before he decides to lean down even closer, "....And you're not even trying to deny it, are you? Why is that?" You swallow as every muscle he moves tests your limits, he might have noticed your hints.

He stands up from leaning on the desk and makes his way back to his chair, sitting down and gesturing for you to come closer. He waits for you to get up and stand in front of his desk. Standing in front of him almost makes you melt on the spot, clothes feeling uncomfortable now.

He leaned back on his chair, his legs spread slightly as he looked up at you. Damn he always pulled that move in class, of course you didn't pay attention. He noticed your body language, how you were shifting uncomfortably and how your clothes seemed to be fitted on you. He patted his knee. "Sit."

You keeps telling yourself not to before speaking out loud, your voice stammering without permission. Damn it "The others might come in..." He smirks slightly, enjoying how flustered you were becoming from his words and actions. he shook his head and leaned forward, grabbing your waist and pulling you onto his lap, your back now pressed against his chest

"Don't worry about them. I locked the door, we won't be bothered. He looks up at you, his eyes scanning over your body again, now being closer to you "I wouldn't want us to be interrupted anyway." His rough hands onto your waist makes a shiver run down your spine, fighting to stay still onto his lap.

"Always thought you liked the bratty behaviour." you spoke mindlessly without noticing you actually were talking out loud. He chuckled at your comment, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. "Bratty behaviour was fun the first few times, now it's just irritating. I prefer the more... honest version of you."

He then leaned closer again, his breath against your ear, now practically whispering in your ear, his voice deep and had a hint of huskiness, "And right now, it's like you're a completely different person. It's rather cute, actually.

You slightly lean with your elbows onto his desk, your back imperceptibly arching, you were having a hard time, almost giving up to the thrill. He notices your subtle movements, and he can't help but smirk at how responsive you are to his touch.

He leaned closer, his chest now pressing against your back as he puts his hands on your hips, slowly running his fingers over the exposed skin from the gap between your shirt and skirt "And I have a feeling I'm going to enjoy this more than I should... don't you think?"

You hum slightly, hiding your face into your arms, leaning onto the desk in front of her feeling his rough hands onto her thighs, legs slightly spreading his hands slowly tracing up and down your thighs, his touch gentle yet firm. He can almost feel himself getting carried away, but he keeps his voice steady as he speaks, "You like my touch, don't you, dear? you're being so good for me now..." mischiefly

You shiver under his touch, it was a while since someone touched you like this, and you were enjoying it bit too much. "I'll remain the brat I am Mr Ackles" you murmurs, "or should I call you Sir?" you slightly joke, he smirks at your stubborn response, even though your body gives away your true feelings, and he slowly drags one of his hands up your inner thigh, his hand stopping when he reaches the edge of your skirt

"Oh, you can try. But I have a feeling you'll be a bit too distracted to act like a little brat when I'm done with you." He nips gently at your ear and speaks again, his tone lower now and his voice almost a growl. "I think I'd like it if you called me Sir." You shift in his lap, feeling him play with the hem of your skirt. You silently gasp, feeling his hardness pressed against your thighs.

He feels you squirm slightly in his lap, and he can't help but chuckle slightly, enjoying the way you respond to his touch. He takes a moment to press his hips against you so you can feel his growing hardness even more. He then whispers in your ear again. "Feels good, doesn't it? Can you feel what you're doing to me, hm?"

You gets all fidgety, legs slightly spreading more, giving him more access, you move your hips towards his. She whimpers, feeling his lips onto your neck. He notices you growing more flustered and restless, your body seeking more of his touch, and he can't help but feel pleased. He sucks on a sensitive spot on your neck, leaving a small mark there before he speaks again. "You're so eager for my touch, hm?"

You gasp when he gets up all of sudden, setting you over the desk having you bent over it. You squirm lightly the sudden act. Now standing behind you, his hands roaming over your hips and up your sides, occasionally slipping under your shirt to brush against your skin. He leans down, his body pressing against your back as he whispers in your ear. "Now that's a sight. Bent over my desk, squirming for me. All needy, huh?"

You whine silently, murmuring, "Yes, Sir." He chuckles at your response, his hands trailing up your body to rest on your hips, his touch gentle but firm. He then pulls your skirt up your waist, revealing your panties. "God, you're so eager. You want this, sweetheart? Are you sure?" You breathe heavily, almost whispering. "Yes. Sir"

He hums, pleased to hear you finally give in. He leans down, his chest pressing against your back, and he speaks again, his voice thick sending shiversdown your spine "That's what I like to hear missy" his hands slowly slide down your hips, and he grabs the hem of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs.

The desk was pretty tall, you had to stand on your tiptoes, your mind running with thoughts, interrupted when. He takes a step back to unbutton and unzip his jeans, pushing them down along with his boxer briefs. Your hands grip the edges tensing in anticipation.

He then moves back to you, his body pressed up against your backside again, his hands grasping your hips tightly and his breathing a bit heavy as he speaks "You're so beautiful, you know that? I'm sorry I didn't notice until now." You gasp, feeling him pressing slightly to your entrance, such a tease oh my god. You whimper, jerking your hips to his.

Feeling you moving your hips against him , desperately seeking more. he leans down and kisses your neck, his breathing gets heavier as he murmurs against your skin "Tell me you want this"

You whimper "I want it" you squirm. "Sir, please" you whine, feeling him press himself to your. He can't hold back anymore, hearing you plead is driving him wild, he's never seen this side of you before and he is loving it. "Oh, I'm going to give it to you, baby." He tightens his grip on your hips even more and presses himself all the way inside, slowly filling you up.

You grip the edges of the desk whining softly feeling him swiftly entering you. You feel him stretching you out. He sighs finally feeling you around him, walls quivering around his lenght, You moan as he leans down, his chest lightly pressing against your back, his hardness shifting inside you. You shiver, as he starts moving, slowly pulling out and immediatly slamming back in.

He buries his face into your neck, setting a slow and deep pace, your moans getting noisy, head against the surface while you feel his lips onto your neck. As his teeth graze against your skin a soft yelp leaves your lips. His hand immediately clutches onto your mouth muffling your sounds to keep you quiet.

He moves his hand from your mouth to your throat, gently squeezing, you silently plead while he thrusts into you, his hand gripping your neck. He groans, feeling your body shaking under his touch. His hand keeps a firm grip on your throat, not enough to hurt, but just enough to control your moans.

"Quiet, sweetie. We don't want anyone to hear us, do we?" You slightly shake your head, you feel his hips snapping against yours, deeply and precisely, hitting every right spot "Don't want anyone to know what we're doing in here..." He grunts as his thrusts get slightly more aggressive, the desk creaking under you.

He moves his hand away from your throat and grabs your hair, tugging it lightly to pull your head back against his shoulder. "You're so good for me, sweetheart. All bratty just minutes ago. Isn't that right?" he mutters in your ear, his voice raspy ad deep. You try to keep your moans get quiet but the just get more almost obscene. Your hands holding to his arm while your head rests onto his shoulder.

A deep moan leaves his lips, he grabs your hand kissing it softly before pinning it down on the desk next to your head, his other hand still holding your waist. "You're being so good for me..." His voice is full of desire and pleasure, you feel your insides twisting. Your orgasm suddenly reaching you as you cum around him squeezing tightly, your hands gripping the edges of the desk, knuckles getting white.

He groans feeling you squeeze around him almost cutting him in half while his hips stutters. Your hand goes to your mouth covering it, trying to silence your cries of pleasure. Your back arching as he snaps his hips harder against you, the skin slapping sounds along with groans fill the room. The desk creaking under you.

He groans throwing his head back, his eyes shutting for a moment. You squeeze your eyes closed feeling his hips picking up the pace moving faster. He keeps a steady rhythm with his hips, the sound of the desk creaking and your soft moans and whimpers are filling the room, making him even more desperate for you. he whispers again in your ear, his voice low and strained "You feel so good sweetheart."

His breathing gets heavier, he's getting close and he can't hold back any longer "I'm so close, you're gonna make me lose it..." he grunts has his hips stutters still hitting deep and fast. His hand slides under you getting to your breasts, gently kneading the soft flesh while his other hand pulls your hips against his, chasing his orgasm. "Just a little more..." He groans as his pace becomes more desperate and erratic. Your breath heavy, whimpers timing with his thrusts.

His thrusts still deep but getting little sloppier, his deep silent groans arousing you even more. Hands holding you close to his body while you slightly tremble under him. "Oh god..." You moan loudly, his hand flying to cover your mouth while you cum again legs slightly convulsing. "You have to be quiet sweetheart, remember?" His breath irregular as yours while he keeps slamming into you.

You nod softly, pleading with your eyes, his release about to hit any seconds now "Almost there baby..." He grunts groaning, his movements desperate. The desk slightly moves with his thrusts while your moan into his hand, feeling him throb into you. Her whimper louder when you push yourself as deep as you can, your thrusts coming to a stop as you finally let go. Holding himself inside you, thick white ropes filling you up. He curses to himself, his chest heaving while he catches his breath.

He buries his face into your neck, trying to calm his breathing, his heart racing "That was incredible" his voice raspy. Yep, you totally agree with that. He can feel your body against his, and he can't resist the urge to move again, slowly rocking his hips into you. He moans quietly against your ear, his breath hot on your skin "You're so soft and warm, sweetheart." He can sense your body shaking and trembling, and he knows you're close. He leans down and kisses your neck again, his lips gently against your sensitive.

You moans out his name while he presses you and fucks you against the desk, the wood creaking "C'mon let go... it's the last one love" He whispers in your ear, his hands holding you in place while he thrusts into you from behind, Your leg fold upwards shaking as you feel the third orgasm approaching.

Your whines timing with his motions, doubling the pleasure when he holds your still, going deeper as your legs fold. You cum again squirting from the intense overstimulation. His hips slamming against you at the same time and stopping while you cum, his hands onto the desk supporting himself onto it. He leans forward, resting his forehead against your shoulder, trying to compose himself.

You tremble, whining as he pulls out, "How'd you expect me to focus on your lessons after this?" You murmur softly breathing heavily. You slowly hop down the desk, legs wobbly. He hands over some wet wipes. He chuckles, hearing your comment, he takes a step back, giving you a few moments to regain your bearings. "Trust me, sweetheart, you're going to find it very hard to concentrate now." He replies, a hint of a smirk on his face.

"At least I know how to achieve barely good grades." You joke, pulling your skirt down and your panties back up. He laughs at your joke, watching as you adjust your clothes, his eyes flickering over your body. "Well, maybe that's gonna give you a little extra motivation." He teases. "Aw Mr Ackles you mean you won't give me a good grade even if I give you head?" You looks at him, long lashes fluttering

He swallows hard as you look at him, a slight flush creeping up his cheeks. He can't help but feel a little flustered by your blunt question. "Uh...well, umm...that's not exactly what I meant." He stutters a little, his mind racing with some not so appropriate thoughts. He takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself. "You said you liked me better when being honest... want me to be?" you ask, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. Eyes exploring his muscles, and you never noticed how built Mr Ackles actually was.

He feels your eyes roaming over his muscles, and he can hardly believe the effect you have over him. He swallows again, his throat feeling a little dry, before finally responding. "Uh... well, I mean... I do appreciate honesty, sure." He replies, his voice a little hoarse.

"I actually thought about giving you head more than I like to admit. I guess I was being a brat on purpose." You grin maliciously, shivers run down your spine as his authoritative eyes stop onto yours, blushing at the intense gaze looking at your hands to escape it. He can feel a surge of heat wash over him as you admit that to him, his eyes widening a little at your confession. His mind racing with thoughts and images of you. "You were... trying to get my attention, then?" He asks, his voice a little lower than usual, his eyes still fixed on yours.

You nod blushing a little more, he takes a small step closer to you, closing the distance between your bodies. "You have my attention now, sweetheart." His voice lower. "You mean you don't mind me being younger? or being your student?" You suddenly spoke without even acknowledging it, He's surprised by your question, but he doesn't hesitate to reply. "No, I don't mind at all. In fact, I kind of like it. Makes this whole situation a little...more exciting, don't you think?"

He chuckles softly seeing you blushing and trying to calm down, finding it absolutely adorable. He gently lifts your chin with his hand, making you look up at him. "You have no idea how beautiful you are when you're blushing like this, you know" he murmurs, his eyes roaming your face, taking in every small detail.

He glances at the clock on the wall, suddenly reminded of the time limit they have. he looks back at you, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "Oh, we still have arround 30 min... any ideas what we could do in that time, sweetheart?" He asks, his voice dripping with innuendo.

"Guess we can fulfil my fantasies" You murmur, pushing him back on his chair and getting on your knees, practically under the desk

He's a little surprised by your sudden action, but he doesn't resist as you push him down into his chair. He watches you, a mixture of arousal and disbelief on his face as you kneel down between his legs."Oh, sweetheart, you're very eager, aren't you?" he says, his voice a little strained, his eyes watching you with an intense gaze.

Your little interaction is interrupted by a knock on the door "Mr. Ackles, you in there?"

...to be continued

[calliecopper]

Ian Gallagher Being His Own Person, and Why That's Controversial

A meta about Ian's story during his time away from Mickey, and the hate his character receives for it. Inspired by @dazzle02 :)

How many times have you heard somebody say that they skipped season 8 of Shameless because Mickey wasn't in it? How many times have you heard somebody say that season 7 is only good during Mickey's episodes, or that the story is boring without Mickey in it, or that Ian's S6-8 arc was boring without Mickey? How many times have you heard somebody proclaim that Ian wasn't a good partner to Mickey?

Mickey is undeniably THE fan favorite character of the show, and with that comes a tendency for fans to defend him tooth and nail, even when he is in the wrong, and refuse to see any other points of view. Characters who go against Mickey in any way receive a harsh amount of criticism that sometimes is not fully justified. This applies even to Mickey's main connection to the story: Ian.

During season 5 and onward, some fans hold Ian's actions against him very harshly when I feel he deserves a bit more empathy. Of these, there are three main things people criticize his character for during seasons 5, 6, and 7 that I feel are not given proper analysis and thought by fandom.

Disclaimer before we get in because people feel very passionately about these two: Every interpretation of a character is entirely unique to each individual viewer, and these are just my opinions. This is in no way an anti-Mickey post, so as you read, keep in mind that any criticism toward him is not meant to make him out to be a bad character. Don't bite me.

Season Five: The Breakup of All Time

I think a large part of why people get so upset with Ian for the breakup is because of the growth Mickey experienced in seasons 4-5 leading up to it.

Mickey in seasons 1-3 is in extreme denial of being gay, and when he grows feelings for Ian, he lashes out and treats Ian like shit. Seeing Mickey's slow growth starting in season 3 brought interest to his character, and in season 4 with his major growth during his coming out, he becomes very compelling to a viewer. After all the angst that it took to get Mickey to finally open up, there's a natural desire to see that positive growth and relationship development continue. When Ian throws a wrench in that by breaking up with Mickey in season 5, people get upset, and they're going to direct that toward Ian because he is the easiest to blame.

There's the sentiment of, "Mickey came out for Ian, took care of Ian, and supported Ian when he needed him most despite his faults. Why is Ian leaving Mickey in the dust when he now needs him most?"

This is honestly not an unreasonable thing to feel when looking at things from Mickey's perspective.

But, when you take a look at Ian's character, and you really think of his motivations in that moment, his decision to break up is actually very understandable. Ian didn't break up with Mickey because he thinks Mickey is a bad partner or because he doesn't love Mickey enough. He broke up with Mickey because he thought that's what was best FOR Mickey.

I think comparing the breakup to their fight over marriage in season 10 to be an effective way to understand Ian better.

In season 10:

"How do you know you love me? Huh? How do you really know? I'm bipolar, right? I don't know who I am from one day to the next, and I can't guarantee shit. So why do you wanna spend the rest of your life with me?"

- Ian to Mickey, S10E9

Compare this to this conversation during the breakup:

"You used to love me. Now you don't even know who I am. Shit, I don't know who I am half the time... You don't owe me anything."

"I love you."

"The Hell does that even mean?"

- Ian and Mickey, S5E12

I feel that Ian's mindset is pretty similar in these two moments. In season 5, he is still grappling with his diagnosis, and he has no frame of reference of how a healthy life with bipolar can look. Everybody has been comparing him to Monica, and he himself seems to oscillate between thinking he is like her and not like her, so in his mind, he has nothing to offer anymore.

Then, in season 10, in his mind he proved himself right. He tried to get his shit in order, lived happily and found peace with his diagnosis, and then he fucked it up. He had an episode, and he lost everything he fought so hard to have. He has practically ruined his life because he DID what he FEARED he would:

"I hate the meds. You gonna make me take 'em?"

"You get fucking nuts when you don't."

"Are you gonna want to be with me even if I don't?"

- Ian and Mickey, S5E12

That conversation isn't Ian saying he isn't going to take his meds, given how in season six, he IS taking his meds. I interpret his above statement to be a warning to Mickey. Because Monica has tried to get on her meds before, has tried to get better, and has failed many times. IAN has gone off his meds willingly twice now. This is him telling Mickey, straightforward, "I do not like the meds, and there will always be a risk of me deciding not to take them."

And in seasons 8-9, he does exactly that. He goes off his meds, and he destroys everything he built for himself. That's part of the reason why he hesitates to marry Mickey in season 10, and part of the reason he breaks up with Mickey in season 5.

Ian views himself and his disorder to be a burden on the people he loves. He believes that Mickey will be better off without him.

"I don't want you sitting around, worrying, watching me, waiting for me to do my next crazy shit."

- Ian to Mickey, S5E12

Because Mickey HAS been doing that. Ever since he was diagnosed, Mickey has been watching Ian like a hawk, acting like a nurse, which frustrates Ian.

"Fuckin' nurse now?"

[...]

"I'm sick of your whiny, pussy crap. I don't need a fucking caretaker, alright? I need the shit-talking, bitch-slapping piece of Southside trash I fell for. Where is he? The fuck is he, Mickey?"

- Ian to Mickey, S5E10

But, of course, Mickey doesn't see it that way. To Mickey, Ian is anything but a burden he wants to unload.

"It means we take care of each other. [...] It means thick and thin, good times, bad, sickness, health, all that shit."

- Mickey to Ian, S5E12.

Mickey would do anything for Ian. He confronted his worst fear by coming out, stayed with Ian even after the infidelity, defended Ian after he kidnapped his son, and tried his best to understand a mental illness he had no prior knowledge about. Yet, Ian still won't commit to him. After everything, he still isn't good enough.

"I'm not saying never!"

"No, you're just saying you don't love me enough now."

- Ian and Mickey, S10E9

And Ian, meanwhile, thinks that HE isn't good enough for MICKEY. He has been diagnosed with a lifelong condition, one that he has seen ruin lives firsthand, something that will be a part of him for the rest of his life, and he doesn't wanna tie Mickey down to that life.

It's all one massive miscommunication.

Finally, I think the part that is the most confusing to fans regarding Ian's mindset during the breakup stems from his moments with Monica in S5E11 and S5E12.

Specifically, the parallels between these two conversations.

"Ian, there's always gonna be people that are gonna try and fix us. And you can never make those people happy. Like it breaks their heart just to look at you."

"Yeah, um, even Mickey now."

"He's your boyfriend, right? [...] I'm sure he means well, but you need to be with people who accept you for who you are. And they're out there. You should never apologize for being you."

- Monica and Ian, S5E11.

Vs.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Too much! Too much is wrong with me. That's the problem, isn't it? Too much is wrong with me, and you can't do anything about that. You can't change it. You can't fix me, 'cause I'm not broken. I don't need to be fixed, okay? I'm me!"

- Ian and Mickey, S5E12.

Monica's interpretation of the relationship seems to paint Mickey in a negative light. "He means well, but he doesn't get it," or something along those lines. Based on her previous experiences with the diagnosis, she has come to the conclusion that people like Mickey or Fiona, who try to get them to take medication and are saddened by the diagnosis, are being controlling, and do not love them for who they really are. That's why she always went back to Frank; he actively tried to get her to NOT take her meds or get better, and did not encourage her when she DID try to get better. So, to her, being off her meds IS the TRUE version of herself, and the people who can not accept that do not accept her.

But I think, while Ian's lines parallel Monica's, that he does not think the same way that she does.

Toward the end of season 5, Ian seems to do a complete 180 from his previous statements on his similarities with Monica.

"You flushed your pills? You get thats a full-on Monica move, right?"

"I'm not Monica."

- Ian and Fiona, S5E8

Vs.

" [...] Cause they all say how alike we are."

"That's probably not a compliment."

"Uh... No, I think it is."

- Ian and Monica, S5E11

This happens in the wake of his arrest, after Ian's siblings talk about him to the military police. Many of their comments seem to hit Ian in a way that makes him feel misunderstood or like a burden.

Debbie: But he's been acting crazier for longer than that.

Lip: Yeah, at least this past year.

Officer: How would you characterize his behavior?

Debbie: Compared to how he used to be... He's different.

Lip: He'll go back and forth from, you know, being depressed, to, you know, incredibly wound up. I mean, he ran off with a baby for no reason.

Debbie: He almost hit me in the head with a baseball bat.

Fiona: Our mother was bipolar, so we know what it looks like. She put us through Hell, and- I'm not saying you put us through Hell, but when they're manic they can be destructive.

Officer: In your opinion, does he require medication?

Fiona: Yes.

Officer: Is he unable to care for himself?

Fiona: Sometimes, yes.

So, when Ian talks to Monica when they reconnect, Ian expresses loneliness and a feeling of isolation.

"I'm really glad you came, yknow? I just... I needed someone to talk to who... gets it."

- Ian to Monica, S5E11

When Monica tells Ian to not be ashamed and that she loves him for him, she is kind of acting like his Frank. The meds have been taking a toll, and recovery is so difficult that running with her and getting validation from the only other person who could "get it" is an easy choice to make. I think the combined factors of Mickey treating him so delicately, his siblings laying out his flaws so plainly, and his mother's open acceptance creates a feeling of bitterness or shame, and Ian is hoping to find comfort in his mother.

But it doesn't go the way he expects it to.

At the diner, he thinks that Monica is going to prostitute herself for money, and is relieved when she doesn't. It's likely he was thinking of his own stint at the Fairytale in this moment.

Then, he recalls a moment from his childhood that he does not look upon fondly, only for Monica to refer to it as "good times."

He meets Monica's partner and discovers he is an aggressive teenage meth dealer that she is helping to sell the meth.

I think Ian has a true moment of clarity during this. He had thought that he was vindicated, that everybody else was wrong, that they didn't understand, that Monica was right, and that he was perfectly fine just the way he was. But then he sees what Monica considers to be "a happy life."

"Ian, I'm finally happy. People like us, we can be happy. I love him, and that's the most important thing, to find somebody to love, right? Who loves you back for who you are. I want that for you. I love you. We're gonna be okay. We're gonna be okay."

- Monica to Ian, S5E12.

Monica's perception of life is warped. What she considers a good life is living in a trailer selling meth. Good memories are traumatic memories for those around her. True love and support is an aggressive teenage dealer, or Frank Gallagher.

A simple drive to Ian was a horrifying kidnapping to Svetlana. Doing a porn that was no big deal to Ian was a betrayal of trust to Mickey. Joining Monica and ignoring the calls of his well-meaning but ignorant family to Ian was a painful and worrisome disappearance to them. Ian's perception HAS been warped, and he's crashing back to reality, realizing that he has run off with MONICA, realizing that he can't continue down the same path as her, and needs to go home.

He's come to accept that he is bipolar. He's internalized what his family has kept repeating, that he is just like Monica, and looking at her living like this, believing that she is living well, is terrifying to him.

So he goes home, believing that he is just like his mother, and he's doomed to be a piece of shit. He goes back, and he breaks up with Mickey. Because he doesn't think that people like him can be happy, and he doesn't think he'll be okay. And that isn't something that Mickey can change. Too much is wrong with him, and Mickey can't do anything about it.

Really, it's just a matter of Ian operating under the "if you love them, let them go" mindset, and Mickey interpreting it as a rejection. It's the two of them both believing they are not good enough for the other and internalizing it instead of properly communicating.

TL;DR: Ian's breakup with Mickey in S5E12 is not done in a healthy OR selfish mindset. To him, he will do nothing but drag Mickey down, and in his unmedicated and clearly altered state of mind, he thinks the best thing is to let him go.

Season Six: Dating Caleb and Other Blasphemy

The first time we see Mickey in season six, it's behind a pane of glass in an orange jumpsuit.

Mickey had tried to murder Sammi, Ian's half-sister, and had been sentenced to prison for 15 years. It's established that Ian has not been to visit Mickey much and is trying to move on past that time in his life. But, upon being bribed by Svetlana, Ian visits, and during this visit Mickey asks Ian a question:

"You gonna wait for me?" - Mickey to Ian, S6E1.

And when Ian shows hesitation:

"Fuckin' lie if you have to, man, eight years is a long time." - Mickey to Ian, S6E1.

So, Ian replies:

"Yeah. Yeah, Mick, I'll wait." - Ian to Mickey, S6E1.

Before even meeting Caleb, fans absolutely tear into Ian for his decision to not commit to Mickey in this moment. They call it selfish, or out of character, or unfair to ice Mickey out when he is going through this difficult time.

But, let's look at it from Ian's position.

Ian has dealt with abandonment issues his entire life, with both Monica and Frank being unstable and infrequent providers during his adolescence. Throughout his relationship with Mickey, they had been separated on three separate occasions, one of which was entirely voluntary on Mickey's part. Now, due to committing a major crime, Mickey has been sent away for up to fifteen years. They would both be in their thirties by the time Mickey would be released, or close to it if he got out early, and that's not even considering that he was actively taking part in jobs / activities that could extend his sentence, like stabbing people.

Ian has dealt with recurring disappointment and abandonment his entire life, and throughout their time together, Mickey hasn't really established himself as stable.

Now, before you bring out the pitchforks;

"But Mickey was there for Ian and supported him through seasons 4-5. He grew as a person and proved he IS reliable."

Yes, that's true. He did undergo massive development that allowed him to be a better partner and more reliable person to Ian. But, canonically that period of time only takes place over a few months.

Mickey, for the better part of 2-3 years, was NOT a good partner to Ian. Multiple years of an unsteady situationship is not so easily forgotten. Yes, Mickey 1000% had valid reasons for acting the way he did. It's made very clear in S3E6 and S4E11 why Mickey hides his sexuality and lashes out when forced to confront it. But that isn't an excuse. His reasons for acting in a negative way towards Ian the first three seasons is understandable, but he went about it in a bad way.

Not to mention that, despite his growth, Mickey has just been sent to PRISON. No matter how you spin it, his decision to go after Sammi was NOT justified and does not necessarily bring forth confidence in his reliability and stability.

It's not unreasonable for Ian to not want to wait for over a decade for a man who has not always been the best for him. It sucks as a viewer who is invested in them, but Ian was not in the wrong.

Beyond (justifiably) selfish reasons, Ian also already thought that he was bad for Mickey, was worried that he would ruin his life, and with Mickey's justification for his torture attempt being that he did it FOR Ian, that Sammi had it coming because of what she did TO Ian, Ian probably felt responsible for that as well. There was probably a level of guilt in Ian from the whole situation, both for Mickey being in prison and for leaving him there.

But from his point of view, it's better for everybody to try and move on.

What really bothers me about this criticism toward Ian is the sense that he OWED Mickey his time and loyalty. Because Mickey had given and sacrificed so much for Ian during seasons 4-5, it's like people think Ian is then obligated to return that for Mickey, no matter what Mickey did. It's a very transactional way to view the situation, and it just leaves me with an icky taste in my mouth. Nobody owes anybody anything in that situation. Ian does not owe Mickey companionship, and Mickey did not owe Ian support when he got put in prison in season 9. Returning to Ian was Mickey's decision to make, and not a decision Ian was obligated to make in season 6.

Now, onto the actual "dating other people" part of the conversation.

For months, Ian has done nothing but get his meds on track while working at Patsy's, then at the janitors job on Lip's campus. During this time, Ian expresses having a very low sense of self-worth.

"He as smart as you?"

"No."

"Yeah, he's smart."

"Lip is the genuis of the family."

"So that gives you an excuse for not finishing [high school]? You seem plenty smart, and Dav's uniform doesn't really suit you."

- Ian, Lip, and Professor Youens, S6E3

And:

"This is it for me, Lip. This job. This is where I land."

- Ian to Lip, S6E3

Which Lip comments on in a very concise way:

"Yknow, he thinks... Being bipolar means he's doomed to be a piece of shit like our mother."

- Lip about Ian, S6E3

Ian feels no sense of purpose during these months. He feels he has no worth and that he is doomed to work a dead-end job and have no happiness. He thinks he is just like Monica.

That only changes when he witnesses an accident on the highway, and he saves a woman's life by pulling her out of a burning car.

This leads us to Caleb.

Now I'll admit, this is where I take issue with the storytelling, because this would've been a PERFECT way to segue into Ian's EMT arc, but regardless of what I personally think would've been better, the way it plays out in canon does actually still make sense for Ian's character.

After saving the woman from the burning car, Ian collapses due to smoke inhalation and exhaustion. A firefighter on the scene provides Ian with oxygen, thus saving his life. Ian immediately fixates on this particular firefighter.

Now, Ian has a very complicated relationship with feeling his emotions post his diagnosis. In season five, when he is numbed by his meds, the only way for him to feel again is through pain, via self-harm or starting physical fights, and sex. In fact, sex plays a major part in many aspects of Ian's life.

From the age of fifteen, Ian had been consistently subject to sexual abuse. He's been used for his body by countless men throughout his teenage years and has been oftentimes reduced merely to his sexuality and what he can provide to his partner. Even Mickey, in season 2, tells Ian as such in a panicked rage.

"You think we're boyfriend and girlfriend here? You're nothing but a warm mouth to me."

- Mickey to Ian, S2E8.

(No, I'm not saying Mickey sexually abused Ian. But he did contribute to the way we see Ian default so heavily to objectifying and sexualizing himself.)

So, due to this recurring trauma, Ian has a tendency to default to sex as the primary way of getting satisfaction, be it emotional or physical.

So, when Ian gets a rush of adrenaline from the crash, after months of that numbness, he chases the emotions in the most effective way he knows how.

Ian goes to the firehouse with cookies to give as thanks to the firefighter who saved him, but with a clear ulterior motive of getting laid. When he finds out that the particular firefighter (who happens to be part of the "gay shift" which is an odd writing choice) he saw on the highway is married, Ian meets Caleb. In this scene, they speak all of one line to each other when Caleb invites Ian to a firehouse softball game. The next time we see them on screen together, Ian acts very flirtatious toward Caleb, which sets forth their relationship.

"You ever pitch?"

"... Usually, but I'm open depending on what you're into. Where we doing this?"

"Follow me."

[...]

"Wait, we're actually playing softball?"

- Ian and Caleb, S6E5

I think Ian receives hate for this simply because he's expressing interest in a guy that isn't Mickey. Fans get the impression that Ian is moving on too fast or that his interest in Caleb is sudden or rushed. However, I think the rushed nature actually works to show Ian's intentions. In this moment, Ian is not really looking for a full-on relationship. Given how little they interacted thus far, the fact that Caleb wasn't even who Ian was originally interested in, and how Ian's comments consistently err on the side of sexual, its safe to say Ian was just looking for a hookup. In fact, it's Caleb who pushes so hard FOR the relationship.

Mickey, in a deleted scene, hooks up with an inmate right after talking with Ian. If Ian's relationship with Caleb had only been a fling or hookup, I don't think Ian would've been as heavily criticized. As it is, fans get upset at this relationship because it IS a relationship. They go on dates, Ian starts staying with Caleb, and really they seem to be very domestic.

But I don't think Ian was as dedicated to the relationship with Caleb as fans make him out to be.

From the jump, Ian seems uncomfortable with the quick-moving pace of it. At first he only seems interested in sex with Caleb, but upon the negative reaction that provokes, Ian conceded to going on a date with Caleb (which is a bit of a slap in the face to Mickey fans after Gallavich's ruined date.)

"[...] I was hoping to get my hands on your hose."

"Is that what this is to you? A fuck?"

"You say it like it's a bad thing. Come on, let's get out of here."

"No. I knew you were younger than me, but I thought you were a grown-up."

"Fuck. Okay. Okay. Hey, I'm into you, alright? I thought you were into me."

"I am."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I don't stick my dick in just any guy."

"What do you want, then?"

"Seriously? Do I have to spell it out for you?"

"Yeah."

"A date."

"With, like, flowers and chocolate and shit?"

"No, we could skip the flowers."

"Okay. You're on."

- Ian and Caleb, S6E5

(Side note, pulling a "is that all this is to you" after two non-romantic interactions is not just quick in terms of hookup culture, which Ian is more attuned to, but is quick in any terms. More on that later.)

During this date, Ian is visibly very uncomfortable. Some would chalk this up to him having never been on a date before, and the writing even seems to imply that,

"Okay, look, I have no idea what I'm doing. My last boyfriend wasn't much of a talker, his idea of a conversation was to insult me a bunch and then punch me right before we banged."

- Ian to Caleb, S6E6

but that's actually not true, DESPITE the writers forgetting that.

"You know, Mickey and I never went out on dates. Ned never took me out, Kash and I fucked in the back of a convenience store, and I don't think jerking off strangers in a nightclub counts, so..."

- Ian to Lip, S6E6.

He actually HAD gone out on a "date" with Ned in season three, where he was visibly less uncomfortable than on his date with Caleb. He also went to many loft parties during his time dancing at the club, wherein he blended in very well and was able to sorta chameleon himself with the northside crowd. I think the show wants us to believe his discomfort is from him "never having been on a date before" or being unfamiliar with a "slower" pace, but I think his discomfort actually would stem from him just genuinely not being interested in Caleb in a romantic way, and thus feeling awkward on a date that's in a more romantic setting (compared to his one with Ned, which was undoubtedly more sexual.)

I also think his discomfort stems from being completely out of his element. Ian has taken a massive hit to his confidence since his diagnosis, so his Southside roots bring about a bit more hesitancy in him than it might have before, and he may be less confident in his ability to chameleon. That's why, during the date, Ian shows discomfort with Caleb when he shows more "class" than Ian.

"Usually, I get a bunch of apps to share. You good with that?"

"[Uncertain hum] ... Appetizers! Sure, yeah, big- big fan of apps."

[...]

"You seem like a very pensive kinda guy. You an only child?"

"Uh, no."

"Brothers and sisters?"

"A bunch, yeah."

"Older or younger?"

"Both."

"What about your parents? Both still alive?"

"... Yeah."

"... Fantastic. I'm learning so much."

[...]

"Where I'm from, people communicate with their fists."

"Where's that?"

"Southside."

"Mmm. Hands of steel. Okay, so you're a street rat. A brawler."

"Is that a problem?"

"Only if you make it one."

- Ian and Caleb, S6E6.

Then, beyond their first date, we have the actual relationship to dive into.

Throughout his scenes with Caleb, Ian seems to oscillate between neutrality, discomfort, or mild enjoyment in the situations he finds himself in.

There's this interaction, for example, where Ian lets Caleb take charge in defining their relationship:

"So what are we doing?"

"Whatever you want, I guess."

- Ian and Caleb, S6E7.

Or this moment:

"What are you smiling at?"

"I like having you over here. What are you smiling at?"

"I like having a purpose."

- Ian and Caleb, S6E8.

Or when Caleb invites Ian out with his friends, and we see Ian slip into his chameleon persona, mirroring the petty mannerisms of the most vocal participant of the conversation, as well as avoiding diving too much into his personal history.

"You haven't told me which one is your ex."

"Guess."

"Old guy, pink sweater."

"How'd you know?"

"Ooh, a redhead, Caleb? Does his carpet match his drapes?"

"You're a good sport."

- Ian and Caleb, S6E8.

[...]

"If we had known you were bringing a middle school student, Caleb, we wouldn't have come to a place that cards."

"Oh, no, it's cool, I don't drink. I hear it makes your skin old and leathery."

"That's-that's how we're playing this?"

"Hey, you threw down first."

"Where you from, kid?"

"Back of the Yards."

"Local boy. What's your story?"

"Story?"

"Who you are, what you do, how did you meet this chocolate bundt cake?"

"Met him at the firehouse."

- Ian and Gregory, S6E8

[...]

"We like this one, Caleb. Don't we, Gregory?"

"I mean, If young, beautiful, and kind of a smartass is something to like, sure, fine, I guess we do."

- Caleb's friends about Ian, S6E8.

OR, in a deleted scene where Caleb expresses frustration at Ian keeping the distance between him and Ian's family, as well as Ian's lack of communication, while Ian seems unbothered or even perplexed by Caleb's frustration.

"So, where'd you sleep last night?"

"Home. Got done at three, told you I'd be late."

"Yeah, like nighttime late, not next day late."

"Well, I didn't wanna wake you, and I had to go back there to grab some stuff: clothes, towels..."

"Where's there?"

"Home, you mean?"

"Yeah."

"Back of the Yards."

"Right. You did mention that once. I still don't know where it is or who I'd call if there was an emergency?"

"Uh... my brother, I guess? Or my sister."

"Brother or sister. Okay. I'll just track down Ian Gallagher's brother or sister on the internet."

"I'll... put their numbers in your phone."

"Great."

- Ian and Caleb, S6E11 deleted scene.

OR any of the follwing:

When they go to get Ian tested for STDs, he is visibly uncomfortable having Caleb in the room with him.

He is only comfortable revealing his bipolar disorder if it is done in exchange for another secret from Caleb.

He isn't very comfortable sharing his past, only references his previous relationship in a lighthearted manner, and he only reveals his sexual history upon feeling pressured to do so, which he purposefully presents in a callous way.

To me, the entirety of Ian and Caleb's relationship reads as Ian's desperation for validation through sex, which leads to him putting up with a relationship he isn't entirely comfortable in or commited to or ready for. To me, it seems like he's truly just looking for companionship in any way he can get it.

Out of everything, though, I think what really gets to fans most about this storyline is the constant comparison of Caleb to Mickey as a means of demonizing Mickey.

Throughout the entirety of Ian and Caleb's relationship, there is a constant comparison between the two relationships, seemingly with the intent of painting Mickey as a horrible partner.

When Ian tells Lip about his upcoming date with Caleb, he remarks that he never went on dates with Mickey, which comes off as an unnecessary jab.

During his date with Caleb, Ian talks about his lack of effective communication skills, which reflects negatively on Mickey, to the point Caleb brings forward the idea of domestic abuse.

During the wedding that Ian attends with Caleb, Ian mentions Mickey's marriage to Svetlana, and he uses a tone that comes off as belittling the situation and how difficult it was for Mickey.

There's this line, when Caleb asks Ian to kiss for the first time:

"Can I kiss you?"

"I thought kissing comes after you've had sex a bunch of times."

"Ian, kissing comes whenever you want it to. Even now."

- Ian and Caleb, S6E6.

Then, there's Mandy stating that Caleb was better than Mickey.

"A hot black fireman. Also an artist."

"Upgrade from my brother."

"I miss Mickey, but uh... This new guy's nice."

- Ian and Mandy, S6E9

These near constant comparisons to Mickey are frustrating to fans, because it can often feel like Ian, or even just the writers and the narrative, are trying to belittle Mickey's character and reduce him to a one-note toxic ex, which completely spits in the face of the development that he went through. THAT is what is most frustrating to fans.

Because it's true that Mickey was not always the best partner. In real life, Mickey would be a walking red flag, and Gallavich would be undeniably toxic. But that applies to EVERY SINGLE CHARACTER in Shameless. That is the entire point of the show. None of them are particularly good people. They all do shitty things, but they all have compelling reasons for doing it. That's why we can look at these characters and feel connected to them instead of just absolutely hating them.

It's a really odd writing choice for a show that focuses on morally gray characters, or the idea that nobody in the show is really a good person, to decide to play moral high ground in this particular instance, and have Ian suddenly turn his nose up at Mickey's behaviors.

But is this really how Ian feels?

Because, as established, Ian is VERY good at playing chameleon. He is good at shaping himself into whatever a partner wants him to be. He mirrors his partners mannerisms, beliefs, and attitudes.

And Caleb, for all that the story wants to make us believe he's better than Mickey, is actually not the best partner either. Not just for cheating on Ian in season seven and then gaslighting Ian about it; he shows some toxic behaviors in season six as well, including being lowkey judgmental about Ian's Southside roots.

Take, for example, Caleb implying that the Southside is trash, but that he can see the beauty in Ian despite being from the Southside:

"That's my latest. I love to find the treasure inside the trash. Trying to find the secret life in things. What it wants to be instead of what it is."

"Is that what you're doing with me?"

"Good question. Can I kiss you?"

- Ian and Caleb, S6E6

(Which, funnily enough, this line from Caleb goes pretty against the sentiment that Monica had in season five, of Ian finding somebody who loves Ian for who he already is, as Mickey did.)

Or, for another example, Caleb judging Ian pretty heavily during the softball game for being "not grown-up." Simply because Ian expresses sexual interest in him above romantic.

"Cmon, let's get out of here."

"No. I knew you were younger than me, but I thought you were a grown-up."

- Ian and Caleb, S6E5.

Which, as I pointed out before, is really strange behavior. Participating in hookup culture isn't something that Ian needs to be shamed over. There's a sentiment of "Hooking up is beneath me, it's immature," to Caleb's tone, which is unfair. Now, he has reasons for this, that being his experience with getting HIV from a hookup who lied to him, which draws a pretty interesting parallel to Ian.

"Don't worry, guy I did the scene with said he was clean."

"He didn't use a rubber? Are you out of your fucking mind?"

- Ian and Mickey, S5E5.

Vs.

"Guy in college. He lied to me."

- Caleb to Ian, S6E8.

(Which I actually find to be a very interesting plot point and is actually a pretty good scene.)

So, while Caleb was not wrong to put forth a boundary by not hooking up, he was wrong for acting as if IAN was the problem in the situation. Not to mention, his behavior at the game is very strange when taken into account how little they've interacted thus far. He had understandable reasons for his negative reaction, but he went about it the wrong way. Sounds familiar, doesn't it?

Anyways, I could talk about the relationship between Ian and Caleb more, but that's not what the point of this is.

The point I'm trying to make is that Caleb, however covertly, expresses a negative or biased view toward the Southside lifestyle. And Ian, being the type to mimic his partners, follows along in that.

Ian already fears that he is going to be left. He is afraid that showing Caleb who he really is and not being the idealized version of himself will lead to Caleb breaking up with him.

"I'm enjoying it while it lasts."

"You think he'll dump you?"

"Well, I've told him I'm bipolar, and my family's screwed up, and he took it pretty well. But it's one thing to hear it and another to live it, so... We shall see."

- Ian and Mandy, S6E9

So, he chameleons. He makes himself the treasure in the trash. He distances himself from the image of a brooding, Southside street rat.

Because, after so long of constant pain and numbness during and post his diagnosis, Caleb is the first good thing he's found.

"I haven't been this happy in a long time."

- Ian to Caleb, S6E8.

And really, everything that I just talked about doesn't matter when you think about it that way.

No matter how dedicated or invested Ian was in his relationship with Caleb, it still provided him with companionship and validation, which as we know, is something that Ian has an unhealthy dependence on to find self-worth.

And I don't think Ian was wrong in searching for that connection simply because that connection wasn't with Mickey. He could've been well and truly in love with Caleb, and he wouldn't deserve some of the hate he receives for his canon actions.

It's easy to look at Ian's relationship with Caleb and get frustrated because of all the time that was put into Ian and Mickey's relationship. But beyond the instinctual negative feeling that comes with seeing Ian with anybody other than Mickey, his relationships outside of Mickey deserve to be analyzed and observed for what they actually do for HIS character, and not just immediately cast aside as unnecessary or ooc.

So, to summarize:

Firstly, Ian wasn't selfish for not waiting 15 years for somebody in prison. Whether he was serious about Caleb or not, Ian was under no obligation to dedicate himself to Mickey. Ian did not owe Mickey anything simply because Mickey was there for Ian when shit got tough. If they had been together, sure, Ian would've been a lot shittier for leaving Mickey alone. But as it was, they were broken up, and even if they hadn't been, Ian would've had every right to not want to continue seeing Mickey after his decision to harm Sammi, just as Lip was justified in not wanting to be with Mandy anymore after she ran over Karen.

Secondly, Ian dating Caleb wasn't bad for his character. In fact, I think their relationship in season six was actually a very interesting way to progress Ian's character and get more insight into his mind and how he operates.

Thirdly, Ian and Caleb's relationship deserves to be analyzed for what it is, rather than what it isn't. Just because Ian is not with Mickey doesn't mean that he doesn't undergo some huge development in this season, both in and outside his relationship with Caleb. Furthermore, Ian entering a new relationship gives us the opportunity to see more sides of his character, and as such the relationship should be analyzed as it's own separate entity, and not just as a hurdle in the way of Gallavich.

Fourth, Ian was not just waiting to cast Mickey aside to jump on the next dick possible. I've seen this criticism before, and when looking at his actual arc at the beginning of S6 and analyzing his general character, that's just simply not true. Entering a new relationship is not equal to immediately disregarding Mickey.

TL;DR: The hate Ian gets from this season mainly stems from "Ian date somebody aside from Mickey, bad Ian" without any further thought behind why he enters the relationship and what the relationship actually means to him. There is no separation in the minds of fans between Ian and Mickey, and therefore, Ian having experiences and an identity outside of Mickey is negatively perceived.

Season Seven: Putting His Own Wellbeing First

This one will be less long winded than the previous one, because I have less to say on it, honestly.

During the entirety of Ian's bipolar arc, it is pretty clearly shown that to maintain mental wellness, Ian needs stability.

When Mickey shows up and asks Ian to run away with him to Mexico, that's threatening to uproot every amount of stability Ian has managed to secure the past two seasons of the show.

I honestly don't see as much hate directed toward Ian for his decision to leave Mickey at the border as I see for his previous decisions. I'd say the main thing I actually see directed toward this season is just that Ian's story is boring without Mickey in it. Mostly because he enters another new relationship with Trevor after his relationship with Caleb, which really just follows the cyclical Shameless cycle of, "Don't know what to do with a character? Give them a new love interest!" But because I talked about the judgement for non-Gallavich Ian relationships above, I don't particularly feel like doing a deep dive into the Ian and Trevor relationship in this meta.

What I want to talk about relates to the Mickey Mexico storyline, though, and that's the hate other characters recieve for trying to dissuade Ian from going.

After finding out that Mickey escaped from prison, Fiona and Ian have the following conversation:

"What are you doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep. You ever, uh, think about about what would've happened if you'd run off with Jimmy-Steve?"

"Lying sociopath Jimmy-Steve? My life would be a nonstop psycho-thriller. I definitely dodged a bullet with that one."

"What if nothing ever gives you that same thrill again? Still feel like you dodged a bullet?"

"I don't know. Probably. Where's this coming from?"

"Things have been weird between me and Trevor since Mickey got out."

"You mean since Mickey busted out of prison and has got half the Chicago Police Department circling the Southside looking for him."

"Can't get him out of my head. Just trying to stop myself from doing something I shouldn't."

"You turned your life around. Mickey would set a match to it. You've done really great without him, and I'm really fucking proud of you."

- Ian and Fiona, S7E10.

I've seen this conversation criticized many times because of how "unfairly" Mickey is treated in this scene. But I truly think that nothing said in this scene was wrong, and Fiona was 100% right.

In the past, Fiona has definitely shown a prejudice against the Milkovich family before. Specifically with Mandy, Fiona seems to look down upon her and disapproves of the relationship between her and Lip. This on its own is unfair treatment and is annoying to witness.

But in this particular case, absolutely nothing she is saying is wrong or biased simply because Mickey is a Milkovich.

People take the line, "Mickey would set a match to it," and compare it to his behavior in late Season 4 through season 5, where Mickey is taking care of Ian, and say that Fiona is being untruthful or hypocritical. If Mickey had never been sent to prison, or even if he had just been released legally, and Ian was simply thinking about cheating on Trevor and getting back with Mickey instead of running away with him, then the criticism toward Fiona would be more justified. But as it is, Mickey is a wanted fugitive, and Ian running away with him would make Ian a fugitive as well, and WOULD effectively set a match to the life Ian had spent the past two seasons working toward. He would be giving up a career he worked hard for and fought to have, he'd be living in stressful conditions on the run, he'd have no support system, and he would have less ease of access to his medication. Running with Mickey would have been the wrong decision for Ian's wellbeing, and honestly, Mickey should never have asked Ian to go with him.

I think that many people have rose colored glasses on when it comes to Gallavich, specifically with Mickey, and that makes it harder to view these moments unbiased. But, looking at it objectively, Mickey was so wrong for asking Ian to come with him to Mexico. He KNOWS that Ian needs stability with his bipolar diagnosis, and he KNOWS that this would be a stressful life he'd be forcing Ian into.

Simply put, he's acting selfishly in that moment. Having your own interests in mind is not always a bad thing, but in this specific case, Mickey would have thrown a huge wrench into Ian's life is Ian hadn't made decisions in HIS best interest.

Again, I have less to say on this as I did other subjects, because to me it feels much more cut and dry. Mickey was in the wrong here 100%, Fiona was not being wrongfully judgmental toward Mickey, and Ian was not in the wrong for not going with Mickey.

After so long of seeing them apart, it makes sense to want to see them together again. So when Ian, again, is the one making the decision to end their relationship, fans are going to lash out at him and those around him.

But it's important to put aside biases and allow your favorite character to be in the wrong occasionally. Mickey is not perfect, and criticism against him, both from characters in the show and fans, is not unfounded nor unjustified.

TL;DR: Mickey was wrong for asking Ian to uproot his life and run to Mexico, and calling that out isn't defamation of his character.

To End This Yap Session:

Ian is by no means a faultless character, and he is not exempt from criticism both inside and outside of his relationship with Mickey. However, I often feel that the criticism he faces is for the wrong reasons, and not much contemplation or exploration is done on him as much as it is for Mickey.

I love Mickey. He's an amazingly complex character, and his relationship with Ian is one of my favorite parts of the show. But in being a complex character, he is also an imperfect character.

I feel that many fans get very protective over their favorite characters, to the point that anything that goes against that character's interests is labeled as bad, and any criticism toward his character is disregarded immediately.

In this particular case of Gallavich, I feel that post season three, fans often see things from Mickey's point of view without looking at Ian's as much. This meta was simply to give my own thoughts on Ian's most "controversial" moments among fans. Obviously this is mostly condensed to season six and his relationship with Caleb, which I feel is the biggest example of jumping to conclusions and only seeing the surface level of his character.

However, I would like to acknowledge that Ian is also an insanely popular character in the Shameless fandom. While he is misunderstood in many instances, he is given much more sympathy and understanding than many other characters in the show, especially many of the female characters. This long-winded meta is only focused on the concerning tendency for fans to link Ian's identity to Mickey entirely without allowing him to be an individual, but a majority of the time he is still a beloved character who is treated favorably by fans. Compared to a character like Debbie, Ian sees much more support, and I feel that the energy I put toward this meta and trying to understand Ian should also be applied to (almost) EVERY character in the show.

Anyways feel free to leave thoughts.

[frillydolle]

Hiiii! This is my first time requesting ever, I really love your writing and was wondering if you’d be interested in a fic where Arthur Morgan and this high-class lady love each other but due to their reputations can’t ever meet in public. So Arthur has to sneak into her bedroom or vice versa??

Maybe she ends up abandoning her high class life for him?? It’s up to you!

Sorry if this is confusing and please don’t feel the need to respond, I’m sure you have so much other work to do. thank you so much!

arthur morgan x rich female reader

꒰ 𝝑𓏲 ꒱ sooo ur like mary linton , slightly aka very suggestive near end

he was an outlaw from the west. and u were a high society lady living in the big city saint denis. it could never work... a lady couldn't live and love with a cowboy, could she?

with the magic of letter sending and meeting up during the night, the two of u always enjoyed your time together. he'd give some flowers or a necklace (that he totally didn't steal) to u, as action spoke louder than words. arthur wanted nothing more than to make sure that u knew he absolutely adored u. even if the small voice at the back of his kind tells me that he shouldn't be pursuing this.

he's practically letting u be in the hands of danger. he's an outlaw, anything could happen. he could be jailed.. or even worse- which u didn't dare to think about. or just what if something does happen and he goes cold? he just hates the idea of upsetting u in any way. it was something he couldn't handle.

you were in the comforts in ur bed, reading some fantasy novel u got from the bookstore a couple of days ago. even if your mother suggests that a lady shouldn't waste her time on such things, u didn't care. books were like your brain, a sort of escapism from your strict, wealthy life. since you would do anything to leave this heavy life of urs. and that's when u heard some footsteps..

and this caused me to look to ur right, watching the window fiddle and shake for a little bit. u adjusted urself as u sat up, putting ur book down beside u. and soon, seeing a thick arm come through before his leg goes through, and oh, u recognise that gun belt from anywhere.

“...arthur? i didn't think i'd see you again, the papers-” “oh, i have my ways, sweetheart.” he says as he pulls himself through your window, staying aware of his surroundings as not to bump into anything that will cause your parents to walk in. and how glad u were to see him! a sight of relief left ur lips before u stood up, leaning up to give him a kiss on his cheek.

“i missed you, arthur.. how is everything?” u ask him as u sit back down on ur bed, and he follows ur action, sitting next to do as u felt his callous hand reach for urs. and soon, ur fingers intertwine with his, a small subtle of intimacy. eveeytime he let himself into ur room, those same feelings that bubbled up inside from the first time u met him. ur eyes would be in such adoration for the man, like he was a forbidden fruit, a desire that wasn't good morals.

“'m better now that 'm with ya.” he says before he leans into u, his lips soon landing on urs as a giggle as u felt his hand provocatively slide up ur thigh. “dutch wants to rob the bank here.. but i ain't sure of it.” he murmurs before he moves down, lightly kisses your neck as he feels ur arms snake around his neck.

“... your life is always more exciting than mine.” u reply softly, trying ur damn best to stay so as not to make a sound in fear of ur parents hearing either u or arthur. and by ur words, he leaned up slightly to look at u, his head tilted slightly. “if yer thinkin' what 'm thinkin' then it ain't happenin'...” he replied before going down to ur neck once more and then to ur collarbone. it was like he was trying to distract u, that damn-

“i'd rather leave in the middle of the night to come see ya, knowin' that nothing ain't happened t'ya.” he hummed softly before he bit down ur collarbone, and that left a pretty mark on ur skin. it always made u giggly, knowing that he was often careful like that to make sure that no one didn't see anything. i mean, he was always so observant, until now.

until the two of u heard the sounds of ur parents' footsteps making way to ur room.

[frightenedcricket]

Noah can't believe he is this nervous...

You are waking next to him and talking about your day. He has been waiting for this day for so long and is a mess. When did he decide it was a good idea to invite you for take-out and anime for your first date? What kind of first date is that?

When he opens the door and lets you in, you look around as if taking in the house. He thinks it's cute. You two set the food in the kitchen and you can't help but notice how nervous he is. But you don't say anything. Maybe it's just because it's your first date.

Are you thinking this is weird? Do you want to leave? Maybe you think he's only brought you here because he wants sex. Or perhaps you prefer something different? You wanted to go out to a fancy restaurant, right? Do you even like the food?

"Noah?"

"Mhm?"

"I asked where we are eating"

"Uh... I... Well. Do you want to set a nice table outside? I have candles?" He blushes instantly. This is ridiculous. Now he wants you to set your own table.

"Uh..." You frown and bite your nails. "I thought we were watching something"

"Yeah, we can do that"

It's strange because he sounded excited when he asked you on this date. Like, you were literally talking about the damn show you both like and he said why don't you come over one night so we can watch it together? We can order food. Like a date.

You try to not think much about it and do your best to not make him even more nervous.

You sit together on the floor to eat while watching the show, quietly commenting on what is happening on the screen.

But it's getting worse. He is stiff, and sometimes, it's like he doesn't want to be there. You are so done with it. You wanted to have a good time with a friend of yours you also happen to really like, not sit in awkward silence with him.

"Okay" You leave the sticks on the table and drink some water, then you turn to him and are so serious.

I'm done. He thinks. You are gonna leave and never agree to go out with him to fix this mess he's made.

"What's going on?" You say as you clasp your hands over your lap.

"Uh... He is looking for his broth-"

"No, what is going on with you, Noah?" You say and he swallows.

He is sweating. His face is burning and he feels so small.

"Nothing?"

"Then why the fuck do I feel I'm having dinner with a tree instead of you, huh?"

His eyes are big and he has to hide his hands because he is trembling.

"I'm sorry I dragged you here, you probably wanted something else. I know this is so shitty for a first date. This sounded like the best plan because we both like this and I'm pretty comfortable in my house, but I didn't think of what you wanted for a first date. If I haven't fucked up completely maybe I can make it up to you and take you to some place you like. It's so awkward... I'm really sorry, I didn't want you to think I wanted to bring you here to have sex or something I just..."

He stops abruptly because you are laughing, like genuinely laughing. He is so confused. Has he fucked up this bad? Really? Do you have to laugh on his face?

"Noah... Oh lord" You try to breathe as you fan his face.

"Okay, this wasn't necessary. You could have just declined. This is so rude"

Now it's your time to stop. You cover your mouth.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, it wasn't my intention... I... Sorry" You grab his hands. "I'm sorry. I was laughing because... I don't want a fancy restaurant, Noah. I was so excited for this. Like... You are the only person I know who enjoys this show" You brush his knuckles with your thumbs and take a deep breath. "I'm sorry for laughing, I thought it was funny because I was really expecting this date"

Noah blinks a couple of times before frowning. "Really? Don't you prefer something else?"

"Noah, I like you a lot. I don't mind where we go... But I really like this because it's just us and something we have in common"

To say he is relieved is already something.

"I thought you were bored or something... Shit..." He finally smiles. "So you don't think this is a shitty date"

"I think this is an awesome date, Noah"

He laughs and looks at you with dreamy eyes and blushy cheeks. He is the cutest, for fucks sake.

"Plus, I wouldn't be so opposed to the sex thing"

"Oh, c'mon... Let me finish my dinner first or something"

You laugh loudly and pull him closer, taking him by surprise with a sweet kiss.

Thank you to @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard for the inspo!!

[radioactivepeasant]

Snippet Thursday:

Giving Sig gray hairs for fun and profit (sorry, Sig, it's for a good cause)

Going with the winner of the poll here: "Damas Commits to the Bit too hard and Sig is Going To Slap Him"

Premise: Sig went on all of two missions with the Demolition Duo and decided "dibs, my rookies now, no take-backs".

"No leads on Mar yet."

Sig slouched in the corner booth, eyeing the empty bar as he spoke quietly into his talk-box. "Been trying to work out why Jak was able to talk to that Oracle in the slums. Only thing I know for sure is that it's teaching him to control all the dark eco Praxis forced into his bloodstream."

"His bloodstream?!"*

Damas sounded appalled.

"Eco outside of the core organ is some of the worst pain a hu'men can experience shy of a gut-shot! When did that happen?"

Sig clenched his teeth hard.

"Over the last two years. Snatched the kid off the street and put him through that for two years trying to make a super-soldier while Jak fought him every step of the way."

"I wish I could say that didn't sound like a logical progression of his depravity," Damas hissed on the other end of the line. "That your recruit managed to walk away from that -- let alone resist for two years -- is impressive."

There was a thoughtful note in the king's voice. He was considering something. Now was as good a time as any to try to catch him in an agreeable mood. Sig braced himself.

"...I have a request. I know you don't want to get involved in the civil war beyond runnin' guns, but-"

"Spit it out, Sig."

Sig rubbed the skin under his prosthetic eye and groaned.

"I'm...scared for Jak, man. Every time I see him, he's weaker. Kid’s about to drop over the edge of exhaustion and he keeps trudging on because he says "they" told him to. And I'm pretty sure he's talkin' about the Underground. Now, I know it's off agenda, but- I wanna follow him back. Find out whose trying to work him to death and straighten em out."

He could barely see the shrug on the monitor as Damas answered.

"Why're you asking me? He's your kid."

Something warm fluttered in Sig’s stomach and he grinned despite himself. "Yeah. I...guess he kinda is at this point, isn't he?"

The line was quiet for a few seconds. Time enough for sounds to begin emanating from the street. Then,

"When you find Mar-"

When. Not if. As if his success wasn't even in question.

"When you bring him home, bring Jak, too. I want to meet this kid in person."

"You think I'd let him and Daxter stay here?" Sig scoffed.

Just then, the door swung open, bringing with it the ottsel's familiar voice.

"I'm tellin' you, sweetheart, it's all about the pine-pears. Slice em, grill em, put em on the steak. I guarantee even Hoverboy will love it."

Tess walked in with the boys -- Sig didn't blame them for walking together. This wasn't the nicest neighborhood even without the KG -- and she giggled.

"Daxxie, I've never even had pine-pear. How am I supposed to convince Krew to put something on the menu if we can't get any?"

Jak looked worse than before. The circles beneath his eyes were deep and purple, and he looked dehydrated. Daxter perked up from his shoulders to glance in Sig’s direction.

Crap. He loved the boys, but they weren't cleared to know about Spargus yet.

"Hey, shift's gonna be starting soon, hon. Imma have to call you back."

"I beg your pardon?!" Damas sputtered.

After a beat, in which he must've heard the other voices, he sounded calmer. "Ah. You have company. Carry on."

"Yeah yeah yeah. No, I'll remember. Don't worry about it," Sig said quickly, and a little louder than necessary. "Milk, eggs, paper towels. You need me to grab anything else when I clock out?"

Jak stopped next to his table and cocked his head with a soft frown.

"Who you talkin' to?" he asked.

With a sardonic lilt, Damas’s voice grated in his ear.

"Oh, is that my "stepson"? Yeesh, he sounds rough. Tell him to take a nap."

"Tell him yourself!"

"Sure. Watch your ears."

And before he had time to brace himself, Sig had his ears ringing as Damas raised his voice and loudly called,

"Hey kid! Be good for your old man today. Take a nap when he tells you to this time."

"What the-?" Jak squinted at the talk-box.

Sig flushed scarlet from the tip of his ears to his neck when he heard the usually stoic king burst into uncontrolled cackling.

"I'm gonna round up the kids, and then I'm gonna smack you when I get home" he whispered harshly into the line.

"You wouldn't!" Damas snickered, just before ending the call, "Think of the children!"

"I am going to get him for this," Sig muttered as Jak’s face twisted in confusion.

"Who the heck is that?"

"A menace, that's who," Sig growled. "Ignore him."

Unfortunately, Jak did not.

The more time he and Daxter spent with Sig, recovering from missions under the guise of "Wastelander training", the more comfortable he became with Sig having more or less unceremoniously adopted them. And the more comfortable with Sig he got, the more accustomed he became to encrypted calls from Spargus. The ones Sig wouldn't tell him about yet.

Damas’s terrible habit of taking a Situation and running with it came back to bite them both when a message came while Sig was running perimeter check. And Jak answered the comm.

"You...are not supposed to be on this line."

To his credit, Damas kept reasonably calm.

"Where's your dad, rookie?"

"Sig's clearing the building," Jak answered with a shrug.

"I'd go grab him, but apparently broken toes disqualify you from pest control."

"Eco would fix that quickly enough."

"That's what I said!" Jak gestured vaguely towards the door. "It's not even the worst injury I've gotten in a base!"

Daxter paused on his way past Jak to the kitchen.

"That's true," he called over, "I think catching the live scatter rounds with your bare hands still holds the title on that one, pal."

"Eh." Jak made an entirely too casual shrug.

"Now, don't tell me you were juggling ammunition," Damas said, with a bit of mild reproof under the dry tone.

"The kid tried to channel em," Jak defended himself, "Slight burns or crabby toddler with super strength? Definitely could have been worse. Sig freaked out over that one, too."

Damas’s face went blank very abruptly.

"What toddler."

The door opened, and Jak glanced over.

"Oh, hey Sig. Your "it's complicated" is on the comm."

Sig made a very amusing impression of a fish out of water. He rushed across the room and snatched the talk-box.

"You don't have clearance for my comm, cherry! You know that!"

"What?" Jak asked indignantly, even as Sig propelled him out of the room.

"It's just that stepdad guy! What's the big deal?"

Sig glared at the box. "You did this."

Damas barely noticed. "He can stay, I need to clear something up with him."

If looks could kill, Damas would have been shaking hands with his ancestors at that moment.

"Out. Go run your weapons drills." Sig waved the boys away.

"Well so much for being consistent with him," Damas needled.

Another discreetly murderous glance was aimed at the camera lens.

"Are you serious right now."

"Jak may have information about Mar's location, Sig. I'm dead serious."

Sig snapped back to look at Jak so quickly that Jak was afraid he was going to get whiplash.

Jak blinked.

"Uh...we're not talking about the dead city founder guy, are we? Because I don't know where he is, but the old lady is making me look, so I can probably get you intel later."

*"Toddler,"* Damas corrected tightly, "Green hair, wearing an amulet of Mar. Powerful but uncontrolled channeling potential. Would be about four now."

Jak relaxed. "Oh, him! Yeah, I dropped him off with Vin at the power station because the Shadow was letting him play in the street again."

The combined stares of his semi-legal guardian and the man on the tiny screen left him fidgeting uncomfortably.

"....what?"

[hypnzo]

Shower of Affection ; “Just Relax”

Percy Jackson x Reader

Warning !! : English is not my first language and there might be some mischaracterization.

You were tired from your last mission and the very first thing you wanted to do was take a shower and just completely pass out on the bed.

You were making your way to your wardrobe to get some clothes when your hand was suddenly stopped by someone familiar.

You didn't need to turn around to know that it was Percy standing behind you, especially when even the linger of his warmth was already recognizable under your touch.

"Hey pretty,” he murmured as he held your hand closer to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on your knuckles.

Before you could speak, his hand dropped yours to your side and you started to feel that same warmth enveloping your waist. He had that stupid-yet-lovable grin on his face which made you raise an eyebrow.

“What are you doing, Percy?” you asked, turning around to properly face him. You felt skeptical especially when he has that usual grin on his face that you, unfortunately, so adore about him.

“Nothing,” he blinked innocently and pressed a kiss on your temple. “You're tired, no?” he says, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Mhm,” you exclaimed exhaustedly, earning a light chuckle from him. “In that case,”

“Let me take care of you.”

“I can handle myself, Percy,”

“C'mon,” he holds your hand once again, pressing another kiss on your knuckle, “I just want to take care of you, silly.” he chuckled lightly against the warmth of your skin before he presses a soft kiss on your lips.

“...Fine.” you groaned in surrender to which it resulted spark in his eyes. “no funny business?”

“No funny business.” he said seriously while he kept his gentle hold on you as he led you to the bathroom.

You weren't expecting anything, but it appears your boyfriend surprised you once again. You could immediately tell he prepared this, especially when he has that silly grin on his face like your reaction was exactly what he expected.

You didn't need to go and get anything because it appears that Percy has already done that for you. From the towel to your clothes, everything was perfectly set up.

You didn't realize you were zoning out until Percy's voice cut through your focus, “Are you alright? Is there something wrong, pretty?”

“No, no, I'm fine! It's just..” you looked around and soon looked in his eyes, you saw the way his pupils dilated at the center of his sea green eyes whenever he looked at you. “I just appreciate it, Percy.”

“Good. You deserve it.” he squeezed his hand against your waist and pressed a slight firm kiss on your cheek and peppered more on your neck which earned a chuckle out of you.

“C'mon now, let's go,” he held you close to him while you both scooted slowly into the shower as you both started to undress.

It was definitely embarrassing at first, he looked absolutely gorgeous, and you looked.. ”stunning.”

“Huh?”

“I said,” he wrapped his arms around you, turning on the showerhead, while you both let the water slide onto your hair and skin, as he roamed his hands on your body adoringly, "you look absolutely stunning,” pressing a soft kiss on your lips.

His gaze wandered from head-to-toe, which made you feel both nervous and loved. You swore you could hear his heartbeat swooning against the comfortable silence between the two of you.

“What's wrong?”

“Gods, you're so perfect, beautiful, everything.”

“Don't over do it now, lover boy. It's starting to get embarrassing.”

“Can't promise that, angel.”

After Percy was done shampooing your hair after many persistence where he insists on doing it for you, you finally allowed him to do it.

As he's now washing off the shampoo in your hair, you were adorned by the whispers of sweet nothings that came out of his lips like a hum from the ocean. His fingers carefully threaded through your hair as the water meets his hands.

After he finished washing off your hair, he looked at you, cupping your face with both of his hands, making you face him and gaze into his eyes. Without a word, he pressed a kiss on your nose, saying it was his reward for his hardwork.

“Percy, you're drowning me with kisses.”

“My kisses.”

“How special.”

"You love it!” he chuckled out before giving you another kiss on the cheek as you let out a sigh, fighting back the smile tugging on your lips.

Percy, once again, insisted on helping you. In this case, you were in the middle of doing your skincare after you both finished showering. “Let me do it.” he says, already leaving no room for arguments.

“Percy.”

“Fine.”

...

“But I will help you hand the things you need to use.”

“You don't even know which is which!”

"Yes I do!”

“Where's the cleanser?”

“...”

“See?”

Percy decided to try and shuffle through, not being able to read it as much, but gave you whichever his hand and brain wanted to grab.

“That's the moisturizer.”

“Same thing. MouisturizER, cleansER.”

“It's not,” you sighed but a smile tugged on your lips, you decided to face him, holding his pouty face on your hands, “and I might just send you to the ER for saying that.”

“Hey!” he failed to hide his laughter. Making a move, he cupped one of your wrists in his hand, pressing a soft kiss on the inside of wrist while he made his way up to your palms.

“Can I at least watch you do your thing?”

“Sure.”

Finally, your day was done. It definitely took you a bit longer to get ready for bed, but the feeling of your back resting on the soft mattress after everything felt so good.

You couldn't help but inhale the smell of the fresh breeze of the ocean with the hint of Percy's scent lingering on his pillows and blanekts.

“Are you feeling better, sweetness?” Percy says with a voice so soft like a gentle whisper, pressing a soft peck on your lips while you felt his eyes looking into yours under the dim lights of the cabin.

“I couldn't have felt any better.” you smiled at him as you rested your head on his chest. You felt the warmth of his arms enveloping around your figure even with your eyes closed.

“I love you.” he whispered, lingering his lips on your forehead before he tilted your head upwards to look at him.

“Yeah,” you said with a light chuckle, “I love you, too.”

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

An Altar For Our Sins

Part 10// Masterlist

Demon! Billy Russo x Reader

Warnings: Canon typical violence and death, angst, pain, sorrow, torment, delving into Billy's past, mentions of smut, and eventual fluff.

A/N: I was so confident about this and now I am not.

You press the weight of your body against the church doors nervously, stepping in.

There's a sermon happening, Father Matt's gentle voice echoes through the open space, tickling the insides of your ears.

Billy's waiting outside, you told him you wanted to come in alone first and then you'd tug on the bond once Matt accepted.

He's finishing up, one last closing prayer, and though you bow your head and clasp your hands respectfully after sliding into the very last pew, you have no idea if you really want to pray or not.

If you were thankful to God for anything, it would be for allowing Billy and you to meet. The irony wasn't lost on you, thanking God for sending you a demon.

You feel the demon in question send a lingering touch over the bond, like gentle fingers smoothing through the back of your head.

You smile to yourself, pushing him away before he can arouse you in a sacred place of worship, his essence drawing back with a feeling of mirth sticking to the back of your throat.

You try not to think too much of how he makes you feel. You know that the minute you realise the inevitable, he’s going to know it too. So instead of dwelling, you study the wooden pattern of the pew in front of you. You make shapes, and faces, and you drown out the sounds around you until you hear footsteps approach.

Matt, moving stiffly to you as everyone disperses. You sit up, smiling at him politely as he comes within earshot.

“What are you doing here, demon?” He whispers, voice heavy with distaste.

It takes you aback.

“Matt?” You say in confusion.

He pauses, seemingly surprised behind his red-rimmed glasses before giving a small tilt of his head.

He says your name in doubt.

“Yes?” You answer, unsure of what was happening.

He sucks in a deep breath, looks around, before leaning closer.

“I couldn’t recognise you. Your aura- it’s just like his.”

You feel something twist inside of you, a seed of fear planting itself and you don’t really know why, but you’re pretty sure that having the aura of a demon couldn’t possibly be a good thing.

Your eyes widen a little, completely forgetting what you were even here for.

“Is that bad?” You ask him in a small voice.

“Of course it’s bad- how could anything about being soul bonded to a demon be good?”

You shrink back, and at the same moment, Matt realises his mistake.

“I didn’t mean it like that-”

“-How else could you have meant it?” You ask helplessly.

He lets out a soft breath, stepping into the row, and taking a seat beside you.

“I’m sorry,” he says after a moment, “I let my emotions get the best of me.”

“Whatever.” You whisper, “My soul is damned and I’m going to rot in Hell it’s fine.”

He takes in a slow breath, and you wait patiently for his priestly wisdom.

“What brings you here?” He asks finally.

You study your hands, observing the little lines and folds, the way some of the curves looked like smiles.

“I was in his head, in his dreams. I could feel so much of him.”

Matt nods in understanding, drawing conclusions from what he can sense and what you've come to him for.

“I don’t know what happens from this point on, I can only assume that his soul will consume yours whole, that you’ll become one, condemning yourself to eternal suffering for the sins he’s committed.”

You remain silent, truly thinking about the consequences.

“What other choice do I have? It's not like I caused this.”

He seems to be lost in as much thought as you are.

“Perhaps, with distance, and devotion to being a better person, you could erase some of the stains on your soul.”

You nod, understanding his point. You didn’t want that though, you wanted him, in any way you could have him.

“Is Hell even that bad?” You protest softly.

“I know you didn't just ask me that.”

It makes you laugh suddenly. Matt angles his head, smiles along with you.

You enjoy laughing with him about the absurdity of your conversation, finally settling after a few moments, going back to your thoughts.

“I keep weighing it in my head, you know? Staying away from him, or spending eternity in suffering, and honestly, I keep thinking that Hell wouldn't be so bad.”

Matt says your name softly, almost apologetically.

“Forever is a very long time.” He utters finally.

“Yeah… but…”

Matt turns to you suddenly, standing and extending his hand in a guiding motion.

“Come, I have something for you to see.”

You stand, following him as he seems to move with purpose, down the aisle of the church and toward the back where his office is. You tug gently on the bond and feel Billy’s responding pull followed by a soothing touch, no doubt trying to ease the tension he'd been feeling from you before.

You feel your trepidation ease, the reminder that he was so close easing your nerves.

Matt opens the door for you, and you step in, turning to watch him shut the door, before he speaks.

“I haven't had a chance to look through everything yet, but I thought I could show you…” Matt doesn't finish the sentence, instead pulling out a large leather bound binder. Some of the pages are marked with little page tabs and you watch him flip to one.

It's an admittance registry for an orphanage dated 1891. You see that Matt has highlighted one name in particular, a William Russo, age 6, his height and weight recorded, followed by some details of his birthmark. Finally, there is some information of how he was found, hungry on the streets after his mother was found dead of narcotics poisoning.

You glance up at Matt, your teeth pressed together in distaste that he would look up these details, as if they were in his right to do so.

If Matt senses any of your anger, he doesn't show it, instead sliding his hand forward and flipping to another page mark.

It's a doctor's report, barely legible on the discolored paper. You squint at Matt suspiciously, wondering how he even read this to know which pages to mark.

You see his name again, William Russo, dated December 8th 1896, aged 12.

It takes you a moment to make out the words, but the doctor reports of severe assault, and damage to his shoulder that will require surgery to fix. They mention his physical state next, pale and shaking, visible signs of distress and a refusal of pain medication.

Your stomach turns, and the pieces fall into place at a bone jarring speed.

He'd been through this, that little boy you'd seen in your dreams, attacked by the very people that should have protected him.

You sink into the chair, pressing your hand to your mouth, flipping the page to see the post surgery report, and the doctor describing how the shoulder was repaired. You feel an aching pain that goes through your whole body, the hurt of knowing what he's been through.

Behind you, the door rattles.

“Call your demon off.” Matt says evenly.

You glance up at him, before turning to look at the door. Glowing sigils as the door shakes, you stand, approaching curiously, reaching a hand up to touch it, before drawing back as the light from the sigil stings you.

“Billy?” You call through the door.

It stops shaking.

“Mistress? Are you alright?”

“I'm okay, I'll be out in a few minutes I promise.” You reach for him down the bond, reassuring him that you were okay.

You feel his hesitation, his power, that the door might hold him temporarily, but not forever. You don't think it's necessary, easing his displeasure with a playful tug on the bond.

It surprises him, eases his concern, he tugs back, so strongly that you feel a physical manifestation of it, stepping forward to catch yourself from tumbling.

You let out a little huff of amusement before turning back to Matt, eyeing his patient disposition with renewed suspicion.

You want to ask him what's the purpose of this, but you already have a general idea that he wants to show you Billy's sins in hopes that you abandon him. 

You sit, flipping through the pages to the next mark.

It's a photo, a man and woman in the center, looking at each other with soft smiles, dressed In wedding attire. You can't see much of the woman's face, but her dress is beautiful, flowing down the length of her body, covered in beading that you can't properly discern with the black and white image.

The man beside her, looks at her as if it's the happiest day of his life and you feel your stomach twists in longing to be looked at like that.

Beside her are her family you assume, an older couple and two younger looking siblings that all hold some resemblance to each other. Standing next to the man, are two men, one you recognize is Billy.

You find yourself smiling, staring at the photo, a sense of warmth washes over you that he had friends, that he'd lived this whole other life that you'd never really seen.

You turn to the back of the photo in hopes that there's a description.

Castle Wedding, April 11th, 1909.

You blink, flipping back to the photo. This was Frank and Maria? The people he-

You let out a soft breath, trying to keep your shock in check so that Billy isn't alarmed.

There's a painful twist inside of you, you almost dread to continue on.

You turn the page, finding a baptism certificate, Lisa Castle not even a year later. You suspect that Maria must have been pregnant at the time of the wedding.

At the very bottom, the certificate names Billy as her godfather.

It hurts in a way you don't realize, a story you already know ends badly. You want to stop, to shut the book and pretend you never saw it, but you needed to know.

After all, if you were going to spend eternity in Hell for him, you should at least know the sins you would be paying for.

You flip through, finding a few mentions of him, another photograph of him at an event beside a beautiful woman, no description on the back. You spare a few moments to study the way he looked, dressed in a fine black suit appropriate for the era. Handsome, as only he could be.

Then, a hospital form catches your eye, for Frank Jr. aged nine, filled out by Billy. His handwriting is scratchy, lots of sharp lines made by a steady hand, describing an accident where the younger Frank had fallen off his bicycle and sustained damage to his shoulder. 

You wonder if this incident had reminded Billy of his own, and the vast differences between the nature of the injuries, and yet the similarity of the injuries themselves. Billy, who hadn’t had someone to protect his childhood, had found a way to protect little Frank’s.

Another photo, Frank, Maria and their two children, with Billy, Lisa’s godfather, and Curtis, Frank Jr.’s godfather. The entire Castle family.

You stop, glancing up at Matt, bringing yourself back into the present for a moment. He sits, examining the rosary caught between his fingers, his thumb gently tracing the crucifix, allowing you all the time you need to go through the information.

“I already know how this ends, Matt, he’s already told me what he did.”

Matt nods, tugs on the collar of his shirt for a moment, a sign of discomfort, though, you’re unsure of why.

“I wanted you to see it from their point of view. To understand the betrayal from their side.”

You swallow, brows furrowing, understanding his point but still not liking it.

You find a deed, partially burned, a house in Manhattan owned by Billy. Next, a car, and then another property on his name.

You realise this must have been at the peak of his service to the man he's never named, reaping all the benefits of shooting whenever this man had asked. You wonder, how many people he'd killed up to this point, how many families he'd destroyed to get ahead in the world.

A mugshot next. It makes you smile to see Billy's stern face, a little younger than he looks now, the corner of his mouth bruised, his knuckles red where they hold up the placard with his name on it. You check the charge- fighting in public. 

The affray charge is dropped the day after, and you wonder what the fight was even about in the first place.

You pause for a moment when you flip the page, realising that this was the part you'd been dreading.

A news article, wrinkled and yellow, three killed at the Castle residence. There are individual photos of them, Maria, Lisa, Frank Jr.

It hurts to read it, the article goes into detail of how the bodies were found. No signs of forced entry, someone must have opened the door to let him in. Why wouldn't they? He was family after all.

Maria is found at the base of the stairs, a bullet in her chest from close range, small defensive wounds as though she'd put up a fight. Lisa, in her bedroom, two sets of bloody footprints around her body, Frank Jr. hiding in his sister's closet, shot through the door, found barely alive and rushed to the hospital where he succumbs. 

You shove the book away, rising to your feet. You can feel your body shake with the emotion you feel. The hurt threatens to break you. You can't even imagine the terror that the Castle family went through.

Billy had done that. He'd spread carnage wherever he went and he hadn’t stopped when his own family was in the line of fire.

“I'll tell you how it ends.” Matt says, closing the book, “The next page is an autopsy report for William, face carved beyond recognition, shot several times by Frank Castle, then a news article, reporting on Frank's death, having been mortally injured by Billy in their fight.”

There's a twisting in your chest, you turn, reaching for the door of Matt's office, ignoring the stinging pain as you wrench the door open.

He's leaning against the opposite wall just outside, when you pull the door open, he raises his head to look at you with red eyes.

His face is calm, yet you can feel the hurt, the anger, the self loathing running through him. You can tell that he's just waiting for your rejection.

You consider reaching for him, soothing his pain, but you hesitate, reminded of Lisa's happy face.

“Did you kill your family, Billy?” You ask, your voice unable to rise above a whisper.

He's silent for a very long moment.

“I did.” He finally says, and there's so much finality in his voice that you almost miss the flickering of pain inside of him.

It's an odd kind of pain, one that leads you to believe that he isn't being entirely truthful.

“Did you shoot them all yourself?” You ask, probing into his emotions through the bond.

He swallows.

“I might as well have.”

Your eyebrows draw together.

“Tell me the truth, please.”

He hesitates, you can tell he doesn't want to talk about it, but you need to know.

“It's okay,” you step forward, reaching out to take his hand. You feel the pit in his stomach ease.

“It's my fault. I killed them. It doesn't matter who pulled the trigger. It might as well have been me.”

“Show me the memory.” You plead, reaching up to cup either side of his face. He squeezes his eyes shut, shakes his head.

“My demon,” you whisper gently, raising onto your toes to rub your nose along his, “Show me.”

He makes a small noise of distress, of defeat, cupping the back of your head, worried that it may be for the last time, his lips meet yours.

It plays like a dream, he faithfully reports to a man named Rawlins, that Frank wants out of their organization. Rawlins informs him that someone's been talking to the police and Frank is the top suspect. He sends Billy to dispatch the Castle family as a last show of loyalty.

Frank isn't home, but Maria is so insistent that he comes inside, offers him a glass of water before he pulls the gun on her.

She thinks it's a joke at first. Why would the man who helped paint her daughter's room blush pink ever pull a gun on her?

But as he goes on, as he explains how terrified he is of being on the streets again, her face falls, and a betrayal so raw fills her expression instead.

Billy is erratic, he’s unfocused, you can tell by the way Maria’s eyes shift side to side as he paces, as he wrestles with the worst decision of his life.

She takes her chance while he’s distracted, throwing a vase so hard at his head that the pain blinds him for a few seconds. He drops the gun and she reaches for it. He grabs her just as her fingers close around it, she scratches his face, he twists her wrist in an attempt to free the gun.

It’s pressed between them when it goes off. Her eyes widen, his steely resolve shatters. He presses a hand to her chest as he lowers them to the floor, he can’t believe what he’s done.

He says her name, tries to figure out how he could have done this to her, the woman that so readily accepted him into her home.

She bleeds out quickly, the bullet having gone straight through her heart. He holds her hand while she dies.

He stands, walks with heavy feet up the stairs to the second floor where her children are no doubt hiding.

He didn’t mean to do it, but he doubts that will save him from Frank’s fury. The only way out of this now, is through.

Lisa’s breathing is shallow, echoing through her room, coming from the closet where she’s hidden. He wrenches the door open, watches her young ashen face. She says his name cautiously.

The gun is cold in his hand. In an instant, he knows can’t do it. He remembers holding her for the very first time, remembers soothing her little cries. He can’t take the life of the little girl he promised to protect.

A noise downstairs catches his ear, the sound of glass crunching under a boot. He knows it’s not Frank, knows by the absence of screaming that this is a stranger to Maria.

He raises his fingers to his lips, before closing the closet door.

Rawlins hadn’t trusted him.

The man he’d put above family itself had sent someone else to make sure the act was done.

Billy tries to find Frank Jr. before the man finds him, but as he’s tugging the boy from under his bed, he hears Lisa’s terrified gasp.

He runs, gets there just in time to shove the man away from his goddaughter. A fight breaks out, and he loses track of the kids. 

He’s winning at first, manages to hold the upper hand, but eventually he falters, doesn’t dodge a right hook, and it disorients him for long enough for the man to grab the gun.

It’s not like the movies, where someone saves them at the last second by sheer luck. The man fires blindly into the room, before running off.

Billy somehow manages nothing more than a graze to his thigh, but as he turns, he realises that he wasn’t the man’s intended target.

Lisa is already dead by the time she hits the floor. Billy can barely breathe as he crawls his way over to her, trying to stop the blood from pouring out of her neck. He whispers her name, crouches over her body, hoping to shield her from any hurt, but she’s already gone, and vengeance is the only thing Billy can see.

He grabs his gun, and races out of the house, past Maria’s still warm body, desperate to fix something irreparably shattered.

You pull back from his mouth, blinking into awareness, realising that not much time had passed at all.

You withdraw, bending over, one hand braced on the wall to catch your breath from what you’ve seen and felt.

“It was all my fault.” Billy murmurs finally, his guilt and shame swelling in the back of your throat.

You straighten, looking up at him. He studies you for a moment before turning away.

“It doesn’t matter who fired. It was my fault.”

“He would have killed all of you either way. He would have found someone else-”

“-I could have saved them, I could have gotten them out. I chose not to. I was a coward, chasing after wealth as if it could ever give me what I already had.”

He turns away from you, his fists curling.

You know he’s right, that he’s not innocent just because he didn’t pull the trigger. Their blood is still in part on his hands.

Matt draws your attention, stepping into the doorway of his office.

You know what he wants. He wants you to cast judgement on Billy and abandon him.

You blink, deep in thought, unsure of how to proceed, unsure of which voice in your head is the right one.

Billy isn’t a good person, has never claimed to be one, has done things so terrible that it hurts you just to think about it.

But you also know that Billy still thinks he’s in Hell, and leaving him would only reinforce that fallacy.

“I won’t do it.” You finally say to Matt.

He responds by saying your name in protest.

“-No,” You interrupt, “He’s paid for his sins, he’s endured torment for what feels like an eternity and he has already been judged.”

You reach for Billy’s hand, tugging him with both your strength and the bond between you until he turns to face you.

“It doesn’t matter if my soul is damned. What’s one more soul in Hell anyway?” You gaze up at him, pressing your emotions into the bond, wanting him to feel exactly what you were. 

“What difference could I possibly make to Heaven?” You question aloud, taunting the universe for an answer.

His eyes settle on you, his hands reach up to cup your face, wonder fills the bond as if he’s seeing you for the very first time, like a familiar breath against a spot deep inside of you that you think might be your soul.

“What does Heaven have, that I can’t find when I reach for you?” You ask him simply.

His shaky breath brushes against your lips.

“I can’t ask this of you.” Billy utters, his lips barely moving.

You smile, a little one filled with amusement and something deeper.

“You don’t have to ask.” You respond, rising onto your toes.

The kiss is blisteringly sweet, tongues feverishly hot, you can feel his desire, and he can feel yours and it secures in your mind, that there was no other way for this to be.

Lost, is an understatement. All you can feel is his mouth and his soul and his unending need for you to be a real person that really wants him.

You giggle into his mouth, tugging playfully on the bond, and when he winds his arms around you to lift you, the clearing of Matt's throat interrupts your tryst. You smile, feeling Billy’s anger at being interrupted, squeezing his bicep to soothe him.

“I respect your decision, even though I disagree. I think I understand, a little bit more than I did before, about the two of you, and how you balance each other out.”

Your smile widens.

“I appreciate that, Matt, and oddly enough, I consider you a friend.” You say, extracting yourself from Billy’s grabby hands to approach the priest in question.

“And,” You relent, “I also appreciate your attempt to show me the truth. If I didn’t know my demon, I might have done what you suggested.”

You feel a slither of delight go over him, hearing you claim him so openly.

“And if she’d let me,” Billy interjects, “I’d pluck those useless eyes from your head in a heartbeat.”

You gasp in horror, spinning to face your demon.

“You will do no such thing! That’s our cue to leave- Thank you for everything Matt- Billy no-” You spin him around, pushing him toward the door, stopping him from approaching the priest, currently shaking his head in disbelief.

Matt listens patiently as you leave, letting out a sigh when the door finally closes, and he turns, stepping into his office, to begin cleansing his church of residual demonic energy.

.

You drag your fingers along the smooth skin of his back, exploring the feeling, committing his skin to memory.

Between your thighs are sore, having begged Billy not ten minutes before to fill you, hoping for his cock, but experiencing some of the dilators instead.

Apparently, one time wasn’t enough, and you had in fact needed more practice in order to be able to take him.

Unfortunately, based on the way your nether regions were pulsing, he was right, and anything bigger might have hurt you.

Still, you wanted his cock, and you could only shiver with excitement everytime you thought about his massive-

“Mistress.” Billy groans, feeling your desire, he turns to face you, one hand wrapping around your waist to tug you closer to his warm body, his tail curling itself more securely around your thigh.

“Have I not satisfied you enough? Would you like my tongue again?”

You laugh softly, resting your palm against his stubbled jaw.

“No, my demon, I was just thinking.”

He exhales, nods in understanding. You move your hand to continue trailing your fingertips over his back. When you brush the edge of his shoulder blade a little too lightly, you feel something stir within him.

You do it again, focusing on that one spot, and when you try a third time, Billy lets out a low groan of protest.

“Ticklish?” You ask, sliding a lone finger between his shoulder blades, smiling when you feel that same feeling again, like a small wave of heat going through you.

You press your hand to his back, soothing over his skin before looking into his eyes.

They're so dark, almost bottomless, glittering occasionally with the light of the Eiffel tower coming through the window behind you.

“There was a picture of you, with a woman, short brown hair, pretty eyes, um…” You try to remember anything else about her.

“Dinah. That was Dinah.”

You blink, thinking that even her name was pretty.

“Girlfriend?” You ask, trying your hardest not to feel jealous.

“In a way. We both had our problems.” 

“I'm sorry to hear that.”

He fights a devious smile, the corner of his mouth lifting, he shifts his body to face you.

“Are you?” He teases.

“Yeah,” You say defensively, raising your head off the pillow, “I'm not here just wishing all your relationships were bad.”

“No?”

“No!” You pout, “I hope all your past lovers were nice to you.” 

He chuckles lowly amused by your words.

“And what about my current one?”

You raise your body, a little defensive.

“What about me? Are we even lovers? You haven't even been inside me properly yet-” You pause for a moment, “Holy shit I just realised that other women have taken that monster between your legs.”

He tilts his head back laughing.

“I'm serious! Were the rest of them as bad as me?”

He stops, looking down at you with a semi serious expression.

“First of all, you're not bad, you're different. Good different.” He says, noticing your parted lips and answering your question before you can ask it.

“It's just taking a little bit more effort to get you to take me and I enjoy that.”

He exhales, rolling his eyes when he realises you're not letting this go without an answer.

“The women in my past before had varying degrees of ability in taking me, does that answer your question?”

“Not really- well-” You tilt your head, thinking about it, “Sure. I don't know what answer I expected.”

He pauses, smiles at you.

“You were trying to compare yourself to women in my past, which makes no sense because I'm not that man anymore, and the things I wanted then, I do not want now.”

You open your mouth to ask him what he wants now but he stops you by pressing a finger to your lips.

“You also asked that question because deep down you were wondering if there was someone I'd prefer over you and while that's your insecurity talking, the answer is still no.”

Wow, he was in in your head.

“You have to say that, you're bonded to me.”

“I think you'd know if I was lying.” He counters.

You press your lips together, looking down at the soft white sheets between you.

“And now,” he says softly, “You're wondering if I'm only saying this because our souls are connected, and my answer to that is also no.”

You feel doubt rise up inside of you.

You hear him exhale sharply.

“Mistress, I'm not just saying these things because I have to. I mean them, every word.”

He moves closer, pushing you back until he's hovering over you. You look up at him calmly, watching his dark eyes shift to a deep red the longer he studies you. He reaches up, brushing the very tips of his fingers along the side of your face, leaving little tingles behind.

“Things are different now, and I'm glad they are, and if I had a chance to break this connection between us, I wouldn't take it. Ever.”

Kiss me, you think toward him.

He smiles, dipping his head.

.

.

.

[sprunkisunshinesuburbia]

Resident List part I

These are edited forms of the town’s documents and bios written by council member Therman. We omit things that could be considered far too personal for us (The town council) to reveal without consent but are merely to make introductions easier for vistors or new residents.

Jevin Amyclides

Age: 57

Gender: Male, He/Him

Height: 6’7

Color: Royal Blue

Quiet and reserved, he seems quite intimidating to talk to with the cloak, the stern looking expression he generally has and well… Alot of assumptions (mainly of the cult variety… Honestly I don’t blame anyone for making them- You really have to be careful out there...Some of them are a bit— Misguided on the whole sacrifice idea… Especially about the Sun!)

But when I actually talked to him he seemed pretty apologetic for— Uh almost everything he seemed to think he did wrong. He’s a very kind shy person just maybe a bit awkward- I feel a little bad for him sometimes, he cares a lot about his son and seemingly others he doesn’t know well. (Got real worried when I stubbed my toe- It was a little silly of me to like double over-)

He keeps to himself mostly, but doesn’t seem to oppose being dragged into things. Even if he seems a touch uncomfortable about it. I hope people don’t push him too much because… I doubt he’d push back….

Sky Amyclides

Age: 14

Gender: Male, He/him

Height: 4’10

Color: Sky Blue

Mr. Amyclides’ son, He’s pretty protective of his father- (It sounds like they’ve been through… Alot out there.. whoof.) he’s usually around him and often is the first to pick up on his dad’s unease and will let you know when you’re overstepping.

He’s a very smart and capable kid no doubt but it seems he’s trying to grow up too fast- Drinks his coffee black but cringes at every sip kind of person. Not very trusting either… Very curt with his answers.

Though if there’s anything that can get him to open up- It’s bears, he collects plush ones and loves talking about wildlife! Tells me that he has a bunch of books on them and even writes his own observations. It’s cute!

Gray Reindola

Age: 21

Gender: Male, He/They

Height: 4’10

Color: Gray

He doesn't really come out his house too often aside from going to his job at the theater and filming nature and other things in the park- (Which is where I usually see him- I haven't really seen a movie in awhile... Never found the time to.) I've asked him about his fancy camera which he told me was from his mom and that he used it for his film classes- Like maybe twice? And just kept making short films with it afterwards. I was kind of surprised how much he actually was willing to talk until he looked behind him and just- Suddenly excused himself to leave. I was confused for a moment and realized Wenda was here. (And um... He didn't really leave in time to I think avoid her?) And it was the three of us on the bench. He'd stop talking and just.. Filmed a leaf, On the grass while making this low hum. It was awkward....

Wenda Wilely

Age: 22

Gender: Female, She/her

Height: 6’0

Color: White

She's... Interesting to say the least- Uh I actually have no idea what she likes- She just seems to show up and sort of insert herself into groups and joke around a bit! I mean her sense of humor is...Er... Making playful jabs at people. (At least I think that's what's intended? She made fun of my lisp and then when Gray kept filming that leaf- I don't know what her deal is???) I stayed as long as I could tolerate the jokes and then her.. Asking me questions about myself and avoiding my own- She's... Maybe just not used to this place (She's relatively new here- Came alongside Gray but he says he didn't know her before moving here. Only that they're from the same city.) Maybe she'll settle at some point? She's odd. I mean everyone's bound to be but... She scares me a little.... She also works at the theater with Gray and I can only hope they're actually good friends and I just can't read people as well as I thought-

Pinned Post << >> Part II (WIP)

[leashybebes]

I was tagged by @typicalopposite (impulsive) and @hyperfocusthusly (fire) for this wip game.

Rules! Share one sentence or excerpt from your wip(s) that starts with each letter of your word!

Decided to make it confusing by pulling from my extremely unwieldy file with allll the wips from you plus me verse, along with the actual ongoing wips and a Super Secret project so...don't expect anything coherent, I guess!

also, at least one bit is nsfw, i sorta lost track. impulsive is a long word and i have NOTHING in the tank today.

re: nothing in the tank, i cannot even consider tagging onwards. if you see this and wanna do it, your word is heart

impulsive

i -

"I mean. I think you could make just about anything sound hot."

"Do you see how that could be a problem?"

"I - guess. But um. It's a problem in a hot way."

Tommy pinches the bridge of his nose. "Evan."

"I mean it. Um. Hold up." Buck scrolls through his phone, switching back to his notes app and, yikes, that's a mess that he will need to tidy up at some point, but he thinks he worded it pretty well in his little brain-dump earlier, so carefully filed sex notes will have to wait.

m -

"My round," Tommy says.

"I'll come with you," Eddie offers.

Buck stands up to let them out of the booth. Clearly not even thinking about it, Tommy touches his waist as he goes, a brief trail of his fingers that has Buck making what he's sure is a pretty goofy expression at Tommy's retreating back.

p -

"Put some clothes on, have a shower if you want, I'm going to make some lunch."

"Is this the famous Clipboard Buck?"

Buck's aware he's probably having what Hen would call a face journey because he wants to know who said that to Tommy, and to point out that he doesn't actually have a clipboard right now, but that he has one at the loft and he could grab it if they swung by, and he also wants to say something embarrassing about how handsome Tommy looks after a nap. He might be in danger of going full Buck here.

u -

"Uh. No. But. You know my friends."

"And soon you'll know mine." He brings Buck's hand to his lips and kisses his knuckles. "I've told them about you. They'll love you."

"Um. Um. Sure." 

Buck screams at himself to shut the fuck up because they'll love you is literally just a thing people say, and it is too goddamn early.

l -

"Love you."

"Love you too."

"Love you!" Jee chirps up, not really directed at anyone in particular, just putting it out into the universe. Buck swoops her up onto his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and she shrieks with laughter. When he leans in to drop one last peck on Tommy's cheek, he hears Jee's mwah! as she lands a kiss in Tommy's hair.

s -

"She was a kid when I joined the army. I should have done better by her, but - "

"You were a kid when you joined the army," Buck counters. "I'm not mad, stop looking at me like that."

"Okay," Tommy says carefully. "You probably - "

"I mean, I am confused. Because when your dad died, we talked a lot. I thought - I thought it made us closer."

i -

"I don't wanna - "

"Sure, okay, make me say it," Tommy says with a huff that might almost be a laugh. "You've got a big dick. Just - it's good, just go slow."

"Yeah," Evan says. "Sure, of course."

He thought he was going slow, but Tommy's the boss, so he works on tiny, incremental little thrusts instead, and it feels crazy. He can feel Tommy's ass working around his cock, like it's actively trying to get him closer, further inside.

v -

Verging on tearful, Evan says, "I would have come. I would have helped."

"I know you would have. It's exactly why I didn't. Why I wouldn't let Sal."

"God, you are a stubborn asshole," Evan says, but he sounds almost impressed, now.

Tommy shrugs and snags another cookie. "These are really good."

Evan gives him a familiar, teasing glare. "For the record, I am allowing you to change the subject."

e -

"Evan, wait - "

But it's too late. Buck pulls open what appears to be Tommy's sock drawer. He's rooting around before Tommy's words can register and his fingers find it like they knew it'd be there - a box. Small and square and navy blue and unmistakable. 

"You - "

Tommy sighs and drags a hand over his face. "Surprise?" he suggests. "This really isn't how I thought this would go."

fire

f -

For a second it's their first kiss all over again, but then Tommy's free hand is preemptively cupping the back of Buck's head as he very efficiently gets Buck pinned against the wall and kisses him fervently. Buck makes a noise of surprise but then gets with the programme immediately. Tommy kisses him hard, urgent, licking into his mouth and slotting their bodies together in a way that Buck is already learning makes him melt. He winds his arms around Tommy's neck, arches into him, lets out a happy little hum.

i -

"It's up to you. I won't be offended if you just want to go sleep in your own bed, but I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't serious."

He's so fucking direct, and it makes Buck feel crazy.

"I don't want to sleep in my own bed," he says, and wants to curl into himself and disappear. It's too much and too honest and too intense and too early and too Buck. 

r -

Reflexively, he notes Evan very deliberately not looking at the cane, probably trying to reconcile the man who walked out of his loft eight years ago with it, and with the glasses, and the decrease in muscle mass and the more grey than not in his hair. He decides to give him an out.

"Congratulations on the promotion," he says. "You deserve it."

e -

Evan holds out  an honest-to-god printed list. Lists, Tommy realizes as he takes hold of the paper, and sees that it's multiple sheets. The first is titled non-sexual intimacy, the second date night ideas, the third mutual self-disclosure. Evan's hand covers his, settling the rising itch of panic he's barely had time to notice.

"Slow down," Evan tells him. "Your pace, remember?"

Part of Tommy hates the feeling of being handled. Another part of him, the part he's trying to lean into, wants it desperately. Wants to be treated carefully, treated with care.

[k1llmehealme]

My First @n@l

He was 8 years older. He was my friend.

He's always been some sort of a protector to me. I never looked at him differently other than a good friend. He probably didn't either..until that night.

Party was over and it was pretty late. I wasn't drunk but my dorm was very far, and we decided I stay at his place.

He laughed and said he won't be sleeping on his tiny couch so we gotta share the bed. Of course it wasn't an issue for me.

He gave me a pj top, which i wore as a dress. He looked at me and said I look very cute.

I lay down on his bed. That's when things are blurry in my head for some reason.

I remember we talked a bit.. I remember him sitting up, and telling me to sit as well.

He said "I wasn't gonna do it... I swear it wasn't on my mind until I saw how cute you looked in my pj. Now I won't be able to stop."

He kissed me. I don't know what happened next but I found myself bl0wing him.

I thought well I don't want to do this... I just want to get this over with.

Next thing I remember is him trying to remove my clothes.

I said we can't do it. He asked "Does it look like I care about anything right now? Just remove your clothes because it will happen."

He made me lay on my stomach and fucked my pu$$y. I don't remember this much. What I remember clearly is the moment I felt his d1ck pushing my ass hole.

I was confused and warned him, thinking he is aiming wrong. But he grabbed my arm with his hand, locked my legs with his legs. I couldn't move my hips left or right. Only way for me to try to move away was pushing my hips backwards but I couldn't, because it would only make his d1ck enter my hole. I was locked.

As he entered inch by inch, I screamed. Pain was unbearable.

"NO NO STOP PLEASE DON'T NO NO!!"

He still wasn't fully in. I rescued one of my arms and started to push him. It didn't have any effect. I grabbed his d1ck trying to prevent him going deeper. He stopped moving once my hand was on the way. He started to pull out slowly.

He put it in again. Because of my hand, only half of his d1ck was in. But I could swear my hole was bl€eding because it felt so warm there.

I realized screaming makes the hole even tighter so i had to stop. Now I was just making that weird, low moaning that comes from my throat. For some reason it helped a little bit.

But the relief didn't last long because he removed my hand and pushed himself all the way in. The way I screamed.. his roommates must hear something. Nobody came to check.

He was balls deep in my ass. Said "I am r@ping your ass right now. Do you realize I am r@aping your ass? Yeah you are being r@ped by me."

It felt like eternity. I felt like some of my organs were spilling out of my hole. I felt like even my stomach was getting damaged because of his d1ck.

Our voices were filling the room. My cries and begging, painful moaning, and him talking about how much he enjoys r@ping me.

When he was done, his d1ck slipped out of me with loads of cųm. At this point I was unable to move. He just laid next to me and we fell asleep.

Next morning I woke up with the feeling of his d1ck trying to enter my pu$$y. I was sleeping sideways, he was behind me. I didn't move or say anything.

He rubbed himself until my lips opened up for the entry. He fucked me for around 2 minutes and came on my thighs.

We got up and started to dress.

He said "You knew what would happen when I see you in my pj. I had to do it. You were so tiny and cute in that big shirt. Don't worry, i am not telling D (boy i was in love with) anything. We are still friends. But I warn you, don't be alone with me in my room again. I always wanted to r@pe your ass, and i will do it again."

[warrior-of-sunlight]

I just fucking love it when someone has dogs that are too strong for them and one of them is dog aggressive and not wearing a muzzle. Just love it. And don't get angry when I need to physically kick your dog away after it bit both me and my dog, be happy my almost 40 kilo dog listened to me and did not bite back. Fucking hell.

[kittlyns]

I had yet another long, strenuous day yesterday and didn't finish work until super late and then I couldn't fall asleep until well past 2am cuz I was in so much pain from standing literally all day