#wait should i add a warnin

[phoenix-before-the-flame]

hello i had an idea once. Here is ur explanation for it

Ok goodbye

[annoyinglilbro]

Dad who gets tired of all your whining about how you're not treated like a real man, that you're not respected like your older brothers are, that he should treat you rougher than he does. Brings you along on his next fishing trip with his friends, lets you act all cute and innocent until you finally get there, and then he's pushing you to the ground, forcing your face down in the river. Only letting you back up for air when he absolutely has to, letting his friends watch or even join in on the abuse, making you sputter and choke. Eventually moves you just out of reach of the water, face pushed into the rocks on the bank as he's unbuckling his belt, pressing his cock against your hole. Doesn't even try to prep you, forcing you to take him like that while his friends watch. They'll get a chance with you afterwards.

😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 please please please ahhh

I’ll add warnins for this one

Cnc, fauxcest dadson, violence

Dad his friends who don’t even care that I’m crying at this point, sobbing. Basically hyperventilating and shivering, my nails breaking against rocks as I try to claw myself away from them.

“You fuckin wanted this boy. Quit your damn whining. Take it like a man, that’s what you wanted right? Always bitchin we don’t treat you like a real boy.”

“Ah ah ah…d-didn’t mean like th-this! Ahhh please please please it hurts!” The river water tastes bitter in my mouth, it’s still burning in my nostrils. “Dad…daddy!”

Dad and his friends just laugh, completely ignoring me and continuing their mistreatment. Talking to each other like I’m not even there.

“What do you think boys, gonna catch anything today?”

“You know it, man. This is where Earl caught that big ass wall eye!”

“No shit! Good on ya bud.”

All the while his son is sobbing into the mud and gasping for breathes. Eyes clenched shut and trying to wait it out.

[poms-resources]

An ask meme / sentence starters based on lyrics from some songs I really like for this time of year!

The “//” means the other part is OPTIONAL! You can add that or make it it’s own thing entirely!

Under the Cut since there’s going to be quite a few...

► Cold December Night — Michael Bublé

With a heart on board so please be careful

Each year I ask for many different things

But now I know what my heart wants you to bring

So please just fall in love with me // this Christmas

I want something that lasts forever

So kiss me on this cold December night

Let's cozy on up by a fireplace

Dim those Christmas lights

I'm here, I'm yours for the taking

'Cause I don't wanna be alone tonight

► Beautiful Christmas — Big Time Rush

We'll decorate the halls with love and cheer

Under the mistletoe, Oh I've been waiting all year

As long as I got you here

► Baby, It’s Cold Outside — Michael Bublé & Idina Menzel

I really can't stay

This evening has been so very nice

I wish I knew how to break this spell

Mind if I move in closer?

You're very pushy, you know

I'd like to think of it as opportunistic

Gosh, your lips look delicious

But maybe just another dance more

Never such a blizzard before

You've really been grand but don't you see?

There's bound to be talk tomorrow

► Last Christmas — Ariana Grande’s Ver.

I hate that I remember

You left my heart a mess

But the very next day, you gave it away

I'll give it to someone special

Thought we belong together

I should have known better

You broke my heart with no warnin'

► All I want for Christmas is You — Michael Bublé’s Ver.

You broke my heart with no warnin'

I just want you for my own // more than you could ever know

Make my wish come true

No, I'm just gonna keep on waiting // underneath the mistletoe

I just want you here tonight // Holding on to me so tight

► Santa Tell Me — Ariana Grande

Don't make me fall in love again // if he won't be here next year

I'm trying to play it cool

It's hard to focus when I see [him/her/you] walking 'cross the room

I won't get in the mood

I'm avoiding every mistletoe // until I know it's true love that [he/she/you] think of

I've been down this road before

Fell in love on Christmas night

I woke up and [he/she/you] [wasn't/weren’t] by my side

Now I need someone to hold

it's hard to tell if this is just a fling or if it's true love

► Like It’s Christmas — Jonas Brothers

This is what it's��all about

But as long as you're with me // It's always that time of the year

I can't deny what I'm feelin' inside

Nothin' fake about the way you bring me to life

Everyday that I'm with you

► This Christmas — China Anne McClain Ver.

I'm gonna get to know you better

How much fun it's gonna be together

Your eyes outshine the town, they do

► The Man With The Bag — Darren Criss ft. Adam Lambert Ver.

You're alright? Just alright? // Whaddya mean alright?

I just don't know how much longer I can wait

Hey, if it makes you feel any better

► Mistletoe — Justin Bieber

I'ma be under the mistletoe

I can't stop staring at your face

The way I followed my heart // And it led me to a miracle

'Cause I am feeling one thing // your lips on my lips

Kiss me underneath the mistletoe

Show me, baby, that you love me so

► Sleigh Ride — Meghan Trainor Ver.

it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you

Our cheeks are nice and rosy // and comfy cozy are we

We're snuggled up together // likе two birds of a feather would be

► I Don’t Wanna Spend Another Christmas Without You — The Ready Set

I have you on my mind

I wish you could be here tonight

So I could kiss you

So I could hold you one more time

All the signs seem to point in your direction all the time

I wish I could see you again

Because I never know // when you will be here with me

[wish-that-i-was-buckys-girl]

Dad’s Best Friend

Summary: Your Dad’s Best Friend, Lee Bodecker, is a close family friend who helps and protects you at all costs. But all he is is a family friend, right?

Warnings: Mentions of a Peeping Tom, Smut, Daddy Kink, choking, perverted comments, maybe slight dub-con?

A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first time writing on tumblr, so I hope you enjoy! This story is also on my ao3, but I saw how much love Lee was getting on tumblr, so I decided to make a blog for fan fictions. Please be gentle with criticism, this is my first time writing smut. However, don’t be afraid to voice your opinion! This is a modern day AU. Lee is soft in this one, there are no dark elements. If you squint maybe it’s dub-con, but I don’t see it that way. However, I added it to the warnings just in case. If there are any more warnings I need to add just let me know and I happily will. This is a learning experience for me! If this receives enough love, I left it open for it to make it a mini-series, or maybe do more drabbles about it. I hope you enjoy!

________________________________________

(Not my gif)

You moved to Knockemstiff when you were 6 years old. Your mother, a local politician, got hired in the little town of Ohio 15 years ago. She began working as a town council member, eventually working her way up to being the mayor.

Being the mayor’s daughter had some perks. You always got complimentary food at the local diners. The business owners wanted to get in good with your mother, for whatever reason. You weren’t sure what your mother had to offer that could help them, but food is food and free pancakes are free pancakes. You never really understood politics yourself. You understood federal level and a little bit of state, but local politics (although some claim it to be the most important) bored the shit out of you.

You even knew the town police. You grew close to Deputy Howser. He was a little older than you, but you got along well and frequented drinking together on the weekends with some of your other friends. Your father, however, got close with the Sheriff. Your father was a stay-at-home dad, your mother bringing in all the money you could ever need. They both didn’t mind, and it was easier growing up to have at least one parent at home. Although Sheriff Bodecker didn’t think being a stay-at-home dad exuded masculinity, he was still your fathers’ friend, nonetheless. They bonded over shitty beer, sports, and candy.

The Sheriff, although you didn’t hang out with him, was another authority figure in your life that you always had to worry about. You couldn’t go out with friends. You knew this because of one mishap you had with your friends. Everyone was home from college, meaning there would be a huge party. You and your friend, Jenny, we’re only 20 at the time. You went, got extremely drunk, and the cops were called.

Of course, you had to be laying on the couch, shirt off, when Sheriff Bodecker arrived. He picked you up by your waist, bring your limp frame against his sturdy body.

“Do I need to tell your father about this darlin’?”

You whined against his chest

“Nooooo, don’t tell my daaaddddyyy”

His cock swelled at the word.

Daddy

He didn’t understand why and just tried to push it deep down.

“Well, doll, I think I can keep this secret for you. Just this once though. If I see you in this state again before you turn 21, I’m going to have to take you in. I can’t show favorites in this town.”

You looked up and smiled at him groggily

“But aren’t I your favorite, Sheriff?”

This wasn’t the only instance in when you ran into the trouble with the Sheriff. You also had a habit of smoking, and more frequently, eating illegal substances.

“Hey darlin’, you’re looking a little tired today,” he said entering your kitchen, “do you need to take a nap or somethin’?”

You reacted slow.

You looked up to him with half-open eyes.

“.....what?”

He knew. He knew from the moment you looked at you.

He just smiled. He wouldn’t snitch as long you were safe. You were in your house, and he and your father were there to protect you if anything happened.

“Go take a nap sweetheart. I’ll go get you when the takeout gets here.”

You smiled and nodded. Before going upstairs, you leaned in to give him a hug.

You whispered, “Thanks Lee.”

______________________________________

Deputy Howser walked into your place of work, a retail store.

You spotted him from the back, where you were steaming shirts to put out on the rack.

“Hey!” you shouted at him from across the store.

“Hey!” He stated walking towards you, “You gonna be home tonight?”

“I suppose I should be, why?”

“Well, I might advise against it” he said worried.

“And why is that?”

“Well... as you know it’s poker night, and all the guys from the station are gonna be coming over to your house to play.”

“Yes, I do know this, and what about it?”

“Well, I just, I know how some of the guys down at the station can get when they start drinking, and I’m not so sure I would want you in that environment.”

“I have to ask again, why is that?”

“It’s just... it’s just that you’re a young woman, a beautiful one at that, and they might make certain comments that would make you feel uncomfortable.”

You scoffed. “I think I’ll be fine David. I can hold my own yknow.”

“I know, I know. I just, I don’t wanna see you get hurt or see you uncomfortable.”

“I promise, I’ll be fine. I’ll see you when I get off work, okay?”

“Okay.” He said with slight hesitation. “See ya then.”

______________________________________

You walked through your front door, yelling to your father that you were home.

“Dad! I’m home! Sorry, I got out a little bit late tonight.”

“Hey sweetheart, I’m in the dining room with the guys. Come say hi.”

You began to walk back to the dining room to say hello.

You immediately regretted it.

“Hey baby, come here often?” One of them joked.

“You wanna come sit down sweetheart? You look like you’ve had a long day. I gotta spot waiting for ya” another stated, patting his lap.

You awkwardly smiled and waved at them. Your father, David, and Lee all had angry expressions plastered on their face. They didn’t say anything as to not upset the men. They needed almost every single one for a successful poker night. It was just easier to not start anything.

“It’s nice seeing you all” you said through gritted teeth, not meaning a single word.

“I’m gonna go upstairs now, and if you gentleman would stick to the downstairs bathroom that would be great.”

You needed to take a shower, but you weren’t going to announce that to a room full of drunken men, who were obviously having too much fun as it was.

You turned on your heel and scurried up the steps. You ran into the bathroom immediately, locking the door behind you.

God, I hate poker nights.

You stared at yourself in the mirror before stepping into the shower. You didn’t even understand why they were hitting on you so much. In your eyes, at least, there wasn’t much to look at, or even desire. You were insecure but tried not to show it. There were good days, and bad days. Today just happened to be a bad day.

You poked and prodded your every insecurity, hoping that this would remedy the issues and make them disappear.

It wasn’t successful.

You finally decided to get undressed and get in the shower. Your turned both nozzles on, waiting for the water to get warm. Once it was a comfortable temperature you stepped in the shower, letting your mind wander.

You never knew why, but your mind always wanted to think about the sheriff. His muscular figure, with his big belly to give him some cushion so he was soft enough to lay on. His cute nose. And his uniform. He looked so stern and yet soft at the same time. Ready to kick someone’s ass but also ready to protect you when he needed to.

You were pulled from your thoughts as you heard a slight chuckle coming from the doorway. You pulled back the curtain to reveal the door was cracked. No one was there, but you could’ve sworn you shut and locked it upon entering just moments ago. You were leery but decided to let it go. You continued to wash your body and your hair. You heard the chuckle again. You didn’t hesitate this time, pulling back the curtain as fast as you could, but still covering your body.

You made direct eye contact with another man from the office. You couldn’t think of his name in that exact moment, being too mortified to even let your thoughts process what was going on.

You screamed. You screamed as loud as you could prompting Officer Dowd to begin sprinting down the stairs. Fortunately, your father and Lee were up in a flash hearing you scream. He was caught.

Lee shoved Officer Dowd against the wall as you wrapped yourself in a towel and made it halfway down the steps.

“Looks like we got a peepin’ Tom. You like looking at girls in the shower huh? You like it when you get to stare at them with their clothes off?”

He didn’t let Officer Dowd answer the question. Lee gave him a swift punch to the face before another breath escaped his body.

Officer Dowd landed on the ground with a thud. Lee got on the ground and spoke to him lightly.

“Now let that be a warnin’. If I catch you anywhere near Y/N again, I’ll put you in the damn ICU. And that is a promise you bet I’m keeping. I know we’re playin’ poker, but I ain’t bluffin’.”

Lee stood up abruptly and say your father holding you as you sobbed into his chest.

He hated to see you cry.

Lee remembered the first time he ever saw you extremely distraught. Some local high school boys were making fun of how you looked. He knew that sort of stuff normally didn’t bother you, but he could tell what they said was more than a few insults.

You came through the door absolutely sobbing. Lee happened to be over at the time, concerned something worse may have happened to you. You explained some stupid high school boys were just harassing you and you shouldn’t be as upset as you were. He held you for two hours that day trying to get you to calm down. He had never felt a pit in his stomach like that before in his life.

He loathed that people made you feel this way.

Your father finally spoke “I think it’s safe to say poker night is over. If you have any issues, I’m sure Bodecker would love to speak to you right now.”

______________________________________

As the men cleared out, Deputy Howser and Lee stayed to make sure you were okay.

They waited until your father calmed you down.

Deputy Howser came in first. He totally wanted to say “I told you so” but he didn’t. Thank god. You think you might have punched him if he did. Instead, he just told you how his wife would bake you your favorite cookies tomorrow and he would bring them over after work. You thanked him, finally leaving. To be honest, you just wanted to be alone.

That was, until you saw Lee come into your room to check on you. You didn’t even know he was still here. You knew he cares about you, but not to this extent. Deputy Howser was your best friend, and obviously your dad cares, but Lee was only a family friend. You saw him all the time, but this was different.

“Hey darlin’, how ya feelin’?”

You smirked “How would you feel if you caught a grown man trying to spy on you while you were taking a shower?”

He smiled back “Fair ‘nough”

He closed the door behind him and sat down on the bed next to you.

It was silent for a moment. You appreciated it, but it was still awkward. You decided to be bold.

“How come you stuck around to check on me?”

Lee was taken aback by this question. He just punched a man for you, why would he not stay to check snd make sure you were doing okay?

“Sweetheart, I just socked the man who was tryin’ to do you harm. Why wouldn’t I stick around to make sure you were okay?”

You thought for a moment.

“I just didn’t think you cared about me that much.”

Again, Lee was shocked. How could you be saying this?

“Y/N, if I didn’t care about ya, your dad would’ve known about all your shenanigans a long time ago. Course I care about ya. You mean a lot to me.”

Your stomach started to turn. Not in a queasy way, but more nervous. You didn’t know why.

“Lee?”

“Yes darlin’?”

“Would you, would you mind if you gave me a hug before you left? I just, I need to be held right now.”

He sat there and thought for a moment. About what, you don’t know, but he finally nodded and opened his arms. You took it upon yourself to sit in his lap while he wrapped his arms around you.

You could hear his heartbeat and breathing. It was soothing. You needed that after the day you had.

Something in the air felt off though. You weren’t sure what, but you knew it felt different.

You looked to Lee for a response but all he had to offer was a soft smile. Your faces were dangerously close to one another. He caressed your hair, lovingly while you continued to stare into each other’s eyes.

You decided to be bold.

You leaned in quickly for a kiss.

At first, Lee resisted, confused as to what was going on, but eventually gave into your soft lips.

You held them there for a moment, enjoying the touch. You began to deepen the kiss as time went on, sucking on his lower lip while he sucked on your upper lip. You stayed that way for what felt like an eternity. Lee began to dip his tongue into your mouth. You accepted it and continued like this for even longer. The passion in the way he was kissing and holding you was unreal. Unlike your ex-boyfriend Lance, he seemed to care that you were enjoying it too.

You finally pulled apart and made eye contact.

He smirked.

“This isn’t what I thought was gonna happen when you said you needed to be held.”

You smiled back

“Just shut up and kiss me.”

You went in for another kiss, but Lee quickly spun you around and pinned you to the bed.

“I know ya got a mouth on ya doll, but I call the shots. Talk like that again and I’ll have to spank your ass.”

“Yes, Sheriff.” You said coyly.

“Although I love you calling me Sheriff, you’ll address me as daddy.”

Your pussy throbbed at the sound of calling him that.

“Yes, daddy.”

He smiled.

“How bout we get these clothes off?”

You nodded eagerly. He ripped off your clothes in a flash, with no time to waste. He had already been in your room for an uncomfortable amount of time. Your father might come in at any moment.

“Can I touch this pretty pussy, babydoll?” He stated, hovering over your mound.

You nodded again, almost breathless at the thought of him touching you.

He slowly entered you with two fingers. A soft moan escaped your lips, grabbing onto his other arm that was propping him up.

“Fuck, you’re so tight darlin’, can’t wait to put my cock in you.”

He pumped in and out of you at a slow pace. He didn’t know how much experience you had, trying to be as gentle as possible.”

“Daddy go faster.”

“Daddy go faster, what?”

You rolled your eyes.

“Daddy go faster, please.”

He grabbed the sides of your throat lightly to assert dominance. You assume it was because you rolled your eyes. Damn your attitude sometimes.

“Now, we don’t roll our eyes at our daddy, do we?”

“No, I promise I won’t do it again daddy. Please go faster.”

He obliged and starts pumping his fingers in and out of you at a rapid pace. A louder moan escaped your lips again, this time Lee shot his hand up to cover your mouth.

“Shhh, we have to be quiet darlin’. Wouldn’t want your old man to find out what we were doin’. I don’t see it endin’ well for either of us.”

You nodded as you rode his fingers. Your walls fluttered around his fingers. You felt the right coil in your stomach, preparing yourself for an orgasm.

Just as you felt the wave of pleasure coming, Lee pulled his fingers out of you.

You looked up in confusion, only to see Lee with his pants pulled down and holding his cock.

Wow.

He was huge.

He began stroking it.

“You ready sweetheart?” He whispered into your ear softly.

You nodded again, just wanting to get back to the wave of pleasure you were about to experience.

“I don’t usually get to it this fast but considerin’ the circumstances I don’t wanna get caught.”

He began to press his head into you. He could feel you squeeze around him, driving him absolutely insane.

“Goddamn darlin’, I ain’t gonna last long if you’re this tight.”

You smiled, glad to make him feel good.

He leaned down to kiss you as he slowly started to pump in and out of you.

You moaned against his lips, unable to keep yourself from being quiet. His lips thankfully muffled your moans. He continued to pump in and out “fuck baby, tell me how bad you want it.”

You whispered against him “I want it so bad daddy, please go faster. Fuck me as hard as you can.”

Lee couldn’t control himself. He picked up his pace and began pounding into you, careful not to make too much noise with the bed frame.

“Oh fuck, daddy, oh god don’t stop.”

“You like this baby? Huh? You like how your daddy pounds your pussy?”

You nodded, almost completely incoherent and responded with a soft “yes daddy, god yes.”

The coil in your stomach came back, making you arch your back, also allowing Lee to fuck you deeper.

Lee began speaking again “Who’s pussy does this belong to?”

“It belongs to you daddy!”

“Keep sayin’ it, keep telling’ me who owns this pussy”

“You daddy, oh god it belongs to you!”

The wave of pleasure began to wash over you as you climaxed.

“That’s it baby, cum all over my cock, fuck yeah just like that” Lee whispered back.

Lee could tell you were about to moan, so he covered your mouth just in time for you to cum. Only seconds later did Lee let out a similar moan, muffled by his head being buried in your hair. He pulled out of you abruptly and began stroking his cock. He came all over your stomach and tits, making a mess of your body. He quickly got up and put his clothes on, also grabbing tissues to wipe off your body.

You laid on the bed, left breathless of what transpired.

Lee laid down next to you, only for a little bit. He didn’t want to fuck you and leave. He was better than that. Well, at least he thought he was. Other women might not agree.

You slid over to lay on his chest, still completely undressed.

You laid like this for a little while before looking to Lee.

“Lee?”

“What sweetheart?”

“Can we add this to the list of ‘shenanigans’ you won’t be telling my father?”

[starship-squidlet]

New Music: Act 2, scene 7

Chapter summary: The aftermath of the fight with the Delanceys. Cora and Davey get to spend some time together.

Word count: 2,122

Warnings: blood tw, injury tw (nothing serious, but just as a heads up these are things that come up in the chapter)

Disclaimer: Preface

Tag list: @the-cowbi @i-am-a-wizard @xbanner-carriedx @chaotic-sunflower-galaxy (let me know if you’d like to be added to/removed from the tag list!)

Links: Spotify playlist, YouTube playlist, ‘Just the Way you Look Tonight’ on YouTube

A/N: Hey, look, I finally figured out how to put the keep reading links in mobile!!! Now y’all don’t have to scroll past mega-long chapters any more!!! I’ll go back and add them into the other chapters at some point, too. Also! There are some deleted scenes that I’m going to be posting today or tomorrow! Two are from this chapter, and one is from an earlier chapter and I just forgot to post it then (oops). So stay tuned for those!

Previous chapter: Act 2, Scene 6

Next chapter: Act 2, Scene 8

Davey turned around as the door to the club opened, ready to join the others in their typical gentle ribbing of Jack, Albert, and Race for being late, but his comments died on his lips at what walked through the door.

Race and Cora came through first. Even with her face buried in Race’s shoulder, the filth covering Cora’s clothes was obvious, and Davey immediately knew that something was wrong. This conclusion was supported by the next people through the door: Crutchie, clutching a bloodied handkerchief to his head and walking half-supported by Jack. They were followed by Albert, carrying Elaine on his back, and Mush, holding another bloody handkerchief over his nose.

Henry was the first person to move, running for the first aid kit Medda kept behind the bar. The others shifted into action right after him, getting chairs to set Crutchie and the girls down in, getting them glasses of water, and wrapping ice in towels to help with swelling and bruises. Spot took Mush by the shoulder and led him into the bathroom. Albert set Elaine on one of the bar stools and helped her out of one of her shoes, grabbing one of the bundles of ice and holding it to her ankle. Race set Cora down and gave her a quick, tight hug before picking up another ice bundle and holding it to his knuckles.

Henry went straight for Crutchie, checking out the bleeding gash over his eye first. “This isn’t actually as bad as it looks,” he said. “I don’t think it needs stitches. The bleedin’s slowin’ too. Keep pressure on it until it stops.”

Davey noticed Cora’s eyes flicking around the room, like they couldn’t focus on anything. With everyone flitting around, chattering with each other, demanding answers, he couldn’t blame her. He stepped forward hesitantly and brushed a hand against her shoulder. She flinched away, nearly falling out of the chair.

“I’m sorry!” Davey said. “Come on. Let’s go over there.” He offered his hand to her. Cora took it, trembling, and let him lead her to the other side of the club, where they sat down in a corner booth. The high seats blocked out some of the noise the others were making, like they were in a bubble. Davey looked down and saw Cora picking at the skin on her hands, pulling it away from where it had split over her knuckles. “Hey,” he whispered, reaching out to take her hands. She pulled away from him with a little gasp. “Sorry, I’m sorry,” Davey murmured. He held his hands up, then set them on the table. “I don’t want to hurt you, or scare you at all. I just want to help. What can I do?”

Cora shook her head and stared down at her hands. Davey nodded and crossed his arms on the table, resting his chin on them, hoping that his presence alone would help Cora relax.

Back over by the bar, an argument was brewing. Davey glanced over, trying to catch up on what he had missed.

“That’s it,” Jack was pacing back and forth, clearly furious. “That. Is. It. This is done. We’re done—all of it.”

“Jack, come on, you’re not makin’ sense,” Race said, shifting the ice on his bruised knuckles.

“No,” Jack snapped, spinning on him. “I said before—the last time—that we should stop before things got outta hand, but youse convinced me to keep goin’. Well, now it’s over.” He stalked over to Elaine and lifted her arm, showing a nasty scrape that went from her elbow almost all the way down to her wrist under the ripped fabric of her sweater. “Look at this. All of youse. Look at this, and at Crutchie’s head, and Mush’s nose. I’m not okay with this.” Elaine yanked her arm back and cradled it against her chest, glaring at Jack. “I ain’t gonna let anyone else get beat up over music.”

“What are you sayin’, Jack?” Mush asked, his voice low.

“It’s over,” Jack said, turning to face him. “All of this. The band. Over and done.”

“Jack, the Delancey twins have been beatin’ people up long before we started playin’ music and doin’ shows,” Albert protested.

“They didn’t start because of us,” Race added.

“Yeah, but we all became a target because of this,” Jack said. “Everybody knows that the Delanceys have been beatin’ up kids on Pulitzer’s orders since freshman year. Kids he couldn’t punish otherwise. Pulitzer wants to control us, that’s why he’s got Snyder and his goons patrollin’ the school all the time. If he can’t control us through legit means, he’ll do it through the Delanceys.” He flung his arms out. “Well, Pulitzer can’t control this. He tried—last night, he was the one who sicced Snyder on us, I’m sure of it. He’s doin’ whatever it takes to shut us down.”

“He’s doin’ whatever it takes, and he’s winnin’!” Mush snapped. “Because you’s lettin’ him! If we stop what we’re doin’ now, it’s tellin’ Pulitzer that we can be controlled, just like you was sayin’. It’s lettin’ him win and givin’ in to his pressure.”

“You’d really let him take away something that makes you as happy as music does over a couple of bullies?” Elaine asked softly.

Jack turned around and took her hands in his, looking up into her eyes. “If it would keep you—all of you, or even one of you—safe? Absolutely.” He kissed Elaine on the knuckles and released her hands, then turned around, looking at the rest of the group. “Look, youse may be okay with this, but I ain’t,” he said softly. “I ain’t gonna be responsible for anyone else gettin’ hurt.”

“You’re not responsible for this, Jack!” Finch insisted. “Pulitzer is. The Delanceys are. It ain’t your fault.”

“It’s none of our faults,” Spot said, taking a step closer. “The Delanceys is just a couple of meatheads. They ain’t thinkin’ for themselves. All they wants is to hurt other people. Pulitzer just gave ‘em an excuse to go after all of us. They was probably told that they could do whatever they wanted to us without gettin’ in trouble, and that just made us the easiest targets for them. The Delanceys have come after all of us before. It’s nothin’ new. Now we’s just easy pickins.”

“That’s the point!” Jack cried. “We’re easy targets to them. Why would they risk goin’ after anyone else when they could just keep pickin’ us off?” He grabbed Elaine’s arm again. “What’s it gonna take before we do let them win? Broken bones? Worse? What if they put someone in the hospital? What do we do then?”

Elaine snatched her arm back again. “Do me a favor, Jack. Don’t use me as an illustration.” She slid gingerly off the barstool and limped towards the door, stopping to pick up her bag. “It’s clear we won’t be getting any rehearsing done today. I’m going home.”

Finch sighed. “I’ll drive you.” He stood up and took Mush by the arm. “You too. Let’s go.” Mush didn’t protest, but let Finch pull him out of the club.

They passed Medda on the way out, and she gasped when she saw Mush’s face. “What happened?”

“The Delanceys,” Mush sighed. “Everyone’s okay. Henry’s patching Crutchie up now. Jack’s pissed, though, so fair warnin’.”

“Can I assume you all won’t be rehearsing today?” Medda arched an eyebrow.”

“Yeah, but we’ll be back tomorrow, don’t worry,” Finch grinned.

“I look forward to it,” Medda smiled. She patted Mush on the shoulder as she passed, and nodded down the street. “You’d better hurry and catch your girlfriend before she gets too far away.”

Finch glanced down the sidewalk and sighed. “Elaine! Wait! I said I’d drive you!”

Medda opened the door and stepped into the club. As advertised, the atmosphere was tense. Henry was taping up a gash on Crutchie’s forehead, Jack hovering nearby. Some of the other boys were close and seemed to be trying to help—Mike and Ike, Boots, JoJo, Specs. At the other end of the bar were most of the other boys—Spot, Blink, Albert, Race, Romeo, and Smalls. Medda looked around for Cora, concerned, but spotted Davey’s side in the corner booths and smiled to herself. She went to check on Crutchie first, and patted Henry on the shoulder. “That’s a nice job you’re doing there. If any of you need anything, I’ll be in my office.”

On the other side of the club, Davey glanced back down at Cora. She had her eyes squeezed shut, and her hands clamped over her ears. Davey raised a hand to brush against her shoulder, but thought better of it. “Cora? Cora, can you hear me?”

Cora opened her eyes slowly and looked over at him.

“They stopped fighting. It’s quieter now. It’s okay; you can uncover your ears.”

Cora moved her hands away for a moment. When Davey proved to be correct, she moved them down into her lap and started picking at her skin again.

“Hey, don’t do that,” Davey murmured, reaching out to take her hands in his. “It’s okay. You’re okay. No-one is going to hurt you. I promise. I won’t let them.”

Cora offered him a watery smile. Davey looked around, not really sure what to do. “Hey, Cora, what’s your favorite song? That we sing, at least. Or your favorite song to sing. Or perform. If… uh, if that makes sense.”

Cora stayed silent for a moment. Davey didn’t think she was going to answer, at first. But then:

“I like… I like when you sing Sinatra,” she said, her voice small.

“Oh yeah?” Davey grinned. “What’s your favorite Sinatra song?”

She paused. “Um… I can’t remember what it’s called. I liked the one you sang for your audition. That was real nice.”

Davey thought for a moment. “‘Moon River’? That’s a good one.”

Cora nodded. “It sounds real pretty when you sing it.”

Davey smiled to himself. “Thanks.”

They sat quietly for another minute. Cora shifted slightly and leaned into Davey. He very gently slipped his arm out from between them and wrapped it around her shoulders. “What other Sinatra songs do you like?” he asked finally.

Cora shrugged. “Lots. He’s got a nice voice. It’s soothin’. Like yours.”

Davey smiled down at her. “Thanks.” They lapsed into silence again. Once again, Davey was the one to break it, as he began to hum softly.

Cora glanced up at him as he began to sing quietly:

“Some day, when I'm awfully low,

When the world is cold,

I will feel a glow just thinking of you

And the way you look tonight.”

Davey didn’t miss the soft smile that was beginning to creep over Cora’s face, so he kept singing, emboldened now.

“Yes, you're lovely, with your smile so warm,

And your cheeks so soft,

There is nothing for me but to love you

And the way you look tonight.”

The rest of the club seemed to fade away. He could no longer hear the other boys talking—he wasn’t sure if it was because they had left, or if he was just so focused on him and Cora in their little bubble.

“With each word your tenderness grows,

Tearin' my fear apart,

And that laugh, wrinkles your nose,

Touches my foolish heart.”

The longer the song went on, the more Cora seemed to relax. She rested more and more of her weight against him, letting her head fall against his shoulder. Her breathing grew steady and even, and her hands relaxed in her lap, no longer tearing at themselves.

“Lovely, never, never change,

Keep that breathless charm,

Won't you please arrange it?

'Cause I love you

A-just the way you look tonight!”

Davey’s breath hitched in his throat and he stopped singing. Cora looked up at him, green eyes wide, but she didn’t say anything. Davey swallowed thickly and whispered the next words: “And that laugh that wrinkles your nose, it touches my foolish heart…” He found himself leaning lower, drawn by some magnetic force to Cora. His voice cracked, but he kept going with the lyrics, his voice getting even softer.

“Lovely, don't you ever change,

Keep that breathless charm,

Won't you please arrange it?

'Cause I love you

A-just the way you look tonight”

He swallowed again and pulled away. Cora looked down at her lap again, her hands shifting like she was about to start picking at them again. Davey took a deep breath, leaned down, and quickly pecked her on the cheek. When she looked up at him again, her eyes were even wider, shining happily as a beautiful smile spread over her lips. Davey grinned back at her.

“Just the way you look tonight.”

[snowbellewells]

“Saved From What Might Have Been”

(A bit of birthday whump for @hollyethecurious​)

By: @snowbellewells​   

I’m honestly not sure if this is much good, or really worth giving as a gift, but I’ve tried something new here, and I’m hoping you may like it, Hollye.  You’ve provided the fandom (and our pirate!) a lot of painfully delicious whump over the last few years. Particularly with “What Lies Beneath the Mask” - my personal favorite!  You also wrote one of my favorite examples of KnightRook fic in your recent MC “We Make Our Own Fate”.  I’m attempting to incorporate those things in this little drabble for you. I don’t really know where this came from otherwise; I had something else in mind, but then this is what I ended up with instead. Contains Season 7’s Wish!Hook/Old Hook and Rogers, KnightRook, and of course some whumpage, if those are things people aren’t interested in. Most of those are new things for me to try writing as well.

Enough of my rambling - here goes:

“Saved From What Might Have Been”

Rough hands grasp him harshly, grappling at him from all angles and lifting him bodily from his seat at the gaming tables. He brays out in displeasure, swatting at those forcing him to the tavern door, at first thinking it is a ill-timed and less-than-humorous jest. However, as raucous voices laugh and jeer in approval, hooting and hollering and stamping feet accompanying shouts of “Good riddance!” and “Bout time ye boys were takin’ out the trash!”, Jones begins to struggle in earnest. He jerks within the hold of many, bucking and swinging wildly, though his punches go wide, made effectual with too much drink and the number of opponents holding him back. His attempts to dig in his heels only lead to him tripping over the raised board at the tavern entrance when the group pauses to open the door. Their combined grip lessens slightly, but before Hook can gather himself to whirl and fight, he is tossed forward unceremoniously, hurled into the street face first.

Once he would have been on his feet in an instant, charging forward to take all comers, but the air is knocked from his aging lungs, and he feels the ache and disorientation throughout his aching joints as he pushes himself to scruffed hands and knees, glaring at those who mock him from the doorway, barring re-entry to the one place able to temporarily silence his demons.

A shaking, unsteady hand wipes away mud from the rain drenched streets and the coarse and unkempt gray hair hanging in his eyes as well. His voice is a hoarse growl when he warns, “You lot should know better than to cross a pirate!” He attempts to stand imposingly to his full height, hand tucked in his belt and hook in plain view, to inspire the sort of respect and fear he had once done and ignore the shooting pain in his knees and hip.

The mob of half a dozen or more look unimpressed, but still Jones moves forward, meaning to shoulder his way through them and back to his table indoors. However, upon nearing the group, he is shoved back harshly, sending his still unbalanced form staggering back again.  Rage blinds him along with the dizziness of a half-drunken haze. Brandishing the hook, he makes to charge into the fray once more, when he is stopped cold by their leader’s words. 

“Think carefully, ye doddering old fool,” the man’s deep tone orders. “Ye’ve cheated yer last at my tables, and used up the last of me goodwill. Payin’ customers’ve complained long enough. You’re no captain. Where’s yer ship? No sailor nor pirate; no more, at any rate.  Yer a has been, a worthless old drunk. And this be yer warnin’  - stay out of my tavern or face the consequences!”

The words sink in just as deep, and perhaps even more painfully than the hard landing had moments before. The grizzled man seems to shrink, his shoulders slumping as he faces the small mob barring his way. Though his bravado does not leave him, he sees that it will not serve him victory and there is no swaying the men standing against him. There’s nothing for him here - no longer can he seek refuge, drown his sorrows and try to forget. He wants to wipe that hateful sneer from the taven keeper’s face; to carve his mark in the skin of all their thick hides with the sharp point of his hook and prove their insults wrong. And yet… defeated he knows those words have long since turned into ugly truth.

“I’m not sure he’s gotten the message yet, Ed,” one of the burly louts adds gruffly, stepping from the collective shadow of the pack and circling around behind the old sailor, hands balled into fists.

“Ye may be right, Connors,” another chortles cruelly. “Seems he might be half witted as well as one handed!”

Outmanned he might be, but Jones still isn’t one to take such abuse in silence, and is about to tell them so when a sharp kick to his legs from behind buckles both his knees and sends him to the ground once more. Before he can begin to get up or even roll away from the unseen onslaught, another heavy booted foot hurries forward to step down on the arm that had hit the ground hardest, causing a garbled yelp to escape his chapped lips. The thug’s full weight on the joint makes an audible crunch of bone and sinew and it is all the aging Jones can do to bite back the sting of tears at the pain.  

Floodgates now open, the group falls on him completely. A broom handle cracks along his spine, ale is poured over his head, rocks pelt him over and over, and kicks rain across his abdomen until he feels one connect with his ribs. His breath is stolen by the blazing white hot agony, and for a second his consciousness wavers. All thought of fighting back ceases, and instead Hook merely curls in upon himself, trying desperately to shield his head and vital organs until their attack is over.

After what seems an eternity, the beating slows, the miscreants back away as they spit on him and issue final warnings not to enter the establishment again. One even mutters that he might as well curl up there in the gutter where he belongs and wait to meet his Maker.  In that moment, Jones wonders if he may be about to do so as his breath comes in harsh, ragged pants around the fragments of at least one broken rib scraping torment against his lung.

The sky opens in a frigid downpour again as the other men leave him in a crumpled heap. They go back inside, flush with victory and high spirited in his defeat. The greying man shivers from the cold and shock, the agony of his wounds and the decimation of his pride almost pulling him under. 

However, he cannot give in yet, there is something he must still do.  He cannot die here in this alleyway, even if he does deserve just such an inauspicious end. No, there is someone who would miss him, who needs the few pilfered coins and the crust of bread he had managed to hide before they discovered his game. ‘Alice,’ he wheezes, the name barely more than a whisper in the rainy deluge and the crash of thunder.

Half limping and half dragging his sorry carcass from the outskirts of the village, through the storm to the foot of her tower, the old buccaneer collapses at the base of the high, impenetrable edifice holding his darling girl prisoner.  Tugging on the rope attached to the basket where he has placed his hard-won treasures, he hopes that his Alice will hear the bell at the other end, letting her know he has something for her, over the tumult. Squinting against the pelting drops, the wavering of his vision and encroaching unconsciousness, he waits for even a glimpse of her at the window far above. He can no longer climb to her; his old bones and poisoned heart having separated them physically years ago. 

Minutes flow by, lengthening and playing tricks. Has she turned away from him too?  “Alice!” he cries, his voice as broken as his body dying out on the howling wind. “Alice, my Lass! Are you there?”  No answer comes, and her honeyed curls and beguiling smile never appear over the ledge. Even she has gone… he failed her too… just as he had feared…

~~~~***~~~~

Two delicate hands shake Rogers into wakefulness, his Alice’s concerned voice ending his nightmare anxiously.  “Papa, wake up!” she pleads. “I’m here! You’re dreaming! Wake up!”

Blinking against the strangely wavering bluish light from the television still playing in the living room before him, he turns to see his grown daughter, restored to him just before they came here to Storybrooke in the United Realms, seated on the edge of the couch at his hip. Alice leans over him, where he had fallen asleep watching the nightly news, her hand still clutching his shoulder where she shook him awake. Her eyes are wide as she studies his face, sure that something real has disturbed her stoic and strong father. 

He still feels a bit blearily fuzzy-headed, the dream having muddled him with the anguish and shame slow to fade from his brain.  “Alice? Did I wake you? ‘M sorry, Love. You can go back to sleep.”  He runs a hand haphazardly back through his dark hair, just beginning to show a few strands of silver, in an attempt to clear the cobwebs and offer her a tentative smile. Shaking his head, Rogers hopes the thin excuse will appease his grown child enough to drop her queries into what troubled him.

“You were calling my name, Papa,” Alice offers hesitantly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He sighs, reaching out to cover her hand on his shoulder and twining her fingers with his to squeeze tightly in affection. “No, Lass, no need. It’s nothing to worry about. We’re both here safe and sound. All’s as it should be.”

Not one to be easily dissuaded, she leans forward, pressing her forehead to her father’s playfully but holding his gaze with her curious eyes. “Are you sure?” she presses.

“Aye,” he nods with certainty, a bit more of the usual twinkle returning to his eyes as he stands to meet the day and pulls Alice up beside him. “No use worrying your pretty little head about me. Let’s have some breakfast, shall we?”

A matching sparkle of mischief lights her eyes as well. “Is there marmalade for the toast?” she returns cheerily.

“Of course there is, what do you take me for?”

“Then, let’s do it!” she exclaims, looping her arm through her papa’s as they troop into the kitchen. He follows easily, a full-throated laugh bubbling from his chest, only too happy to let the last shadows of the dream fade with the light of day.

Tagging a few others who (may?) enjoy -  not sure this will be all of my usual readers’ cup of tea?

@kmomof4​ @jennjenn615​ @sherlockianwhovian​ @killian-whump​ @artistic-writer​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @teamhook​ @revanmeetra87​

[slendermanlore]

Original Mythos + Gallows Humor

Original Mythos Meta:

I like that the Slender Man closely resembles a tree or creeper. He's a forest kind of thing. You can imagine warning children not to go and get lost in the forest because eventually one of the trees you walk past won't be a tree but just a very tall thin person standing very still and then you get your coat caught on a branch and it isn't a branch because it's one of his fingers.

Transcript 21:

The body was full of bullet holes, Joseph, not 'spear arm’ wounds, whatever those would look like.

First Appearance:

Some recently discovered hieroglyphs. Scientists say they are of no real significance.

Inhuman Handprint:

You’d think our suspect would be pretty easy to spot. He must stick out in a crowd with eleven-inch fingers.

Original Mythos Meta:

"Speedy deletion", my ass. It's just the government trying to cover it up.

SomethingAwful:

Goons, what the fuck is that. Those fucking trees behind him are old and pretty goddamn tall. The dude could have torn the top leaves off of them. His magical fucking no-sound shoes are at least 6 feet off the ground.

Jozef:

I’m still not sure what it is, and I never had a name for it until I came across oblique references to the “Slender Man” from a friend who’s interested in cryptozoology (and who forwards me this kind of stuff just to annoy me).

Marble Hornets Preamble:

He agreed, but only under the circumstance that I never bring them back to him, and never discuss what was on them with him. He also highly discouraged me from showing any of it to anyone else. I laughed at this, and said that he must have accidentally made The Ring or something with the way he was talking. He didn’t acknowledge this and brought me up to his attic, where he was storing the pile of tapes.

Original Mythos Meta:

The only thing that should be somewhat set in stone is the appearance and maybe behavior. I say maybe behavior because the Slender Man's purpose and reasons are largely unknown. He is chaos, and it largely depends on how his day was so far.

Rodzby Incident:

His organs were removed, placed in a large plastic bag, and then placed back in his abdominal cavity. Also, he’s in a tree.

Swamp Stories:

Every year durin’ gator matin’ season, people are all up on the TV news channels cryin’ 'bout their dog that got ate 'cause they were stupid and let it go play in the swamp. People whinin’ an’ cryin’, sayin’ there shoulda been signs warnin’ 'em 'bout gators. I say there ain’t no need for signs. It’s a swamp. If there’s water, there’s gators. Simple as that. City folk should be smarter'n to go traipsin’ around in the swamp gettin’ their pets ate.

Original Mythos Meta:

His weakness is that he has no weakness, raising the amount of fear, raising the amount of potential targets. Therefore, there are TOO MANY PEOPLE he can kill to be able to kill them all.

[...]

I'm sure he intends to test that theory.

[...]

After all, the greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist.

[...]

No, the greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he DID exist.

Jessica Samson:

Edit: Photos of the drawings were not included in the original article, but someone claiming to be a Holybrooke campus police officer linked to them in the comments section on the website, commenting only that they “freaked [him] the fuck out”.

Mr. Sanderson:

I could not possibly describe it in words. It would probably be easier to explain theoretical physics to a lab rat.

Original Mythos Meta:

Can he be summoned?

[...]

First you must sacrifice a squirrel and put its heart in a plastic bag. Then you take a tree branch…

Withering Walkers:

It already has a bad reputation, so why not add weird corpses to the list? Ugh…

Original Mythos Meta:

She's an artist (read: weeaboo) who reads up on slender man and becomes obsessed with him. She decides that she wants to bring him into existence by making every human aware of him, as was discussed on this thread. She also wants to help propagate whatever the fuck he is, thus she looks pregnant in the image.

I'm seeing her as like until the Cthulhu cultists, I suppose.

Stanley Ercavich:

But then she started going on about how it wasn’t an end, but a beginning…fuck it, right?

Original Mythos Meta:

Slender Man is like that stupid game where you lose as soon as you think about it.

Superstition:

It makes for interesting life experience when as a kid you can remember everyone flying into serious abject terror that a black bird flew into the house because it’s a sign that someone’s going to die soon and then as a teen when Grandma’s in near hysterics screaming ‘it’s a Sign!’, running for the rosary because she cracked open an egg that ended up having a bloody yolk and all you can think is 'God I can’t wait until I’m old enough to get my own place away from here…'

Dreams and Pareidolia:

Fuck you hippies, I'm never gonna sleep.