#id never disrespect him like this willingly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

crovoroh · 2 years

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Gosh, so i read Runaway Max, and before i get into my book report this shit aint canon, it says its an official novel but im taking that with a grain of salt cause the cali backstory timeline doesnt match st3. But this book had so many moment where i was like oh man are they gonna go in depth with the child abuse at Billy AND Max by Neil?? And they just side stepped that narration everytime it came up. Also if i took a shot every time the author called Billy dangerous id get alcohol poisoning. I know its told from the point of view of Max but come on, you can be smarter then this. Anyways this is gonna be long and rambly probably

I just cant get over how many times this story touched base on not just telling but showing litteral child abuse and side stepped it each time, i guess the show does that too tho oop for starters fuck Neil, and also fuck Susan. If i was out on a family dinner and some man i knew for a couple months reprimanded my child for not calling him father, hed be the one being sent away from the dinner table not my child and it makes me so mad and sad that there are actually parents out there who are like that. Your gonna send MY daughter to the car for disrespecting you?? Great, im leaving with her. See you never.

Billy left the reasteraunt to talk to Max at the car and just, look. Let them bond over this awful man being awful. This to me read as Billy making an attempt to warn or maybe protect Max and its just left right here in that paragraph. It makes me so sad any possible understanding between the two starts and stops there. I know this is told from Max's point of view but its very obvious the author made up their mind on how one dimensional they think Billy is. Which is wild casue they kept pointing out signs of abuse in him, like prior to this car moment we have Max having this observation

Or this one

My guy is out right dissociating, hyper aware of his surroundings and unpredictable moods is a damn trauma response. From the words of my dear friend "you wrote a beautifully wrecked character, dont throw that thing out and teach everyone to do the same" also this aint canon but max thinks Billy is fun sometimes and that has me so soft.

And then this entire last scene in the book with billy is just, so fucking tone deaf. "he was damaged. Broken, maybe" yall i thought we were going somewhere with that but nope, im the fool for believing an abused traumatized character would get properly acknowledged but it was a big "hes just like his dad so he'll never be good and also hes worse then his dad, hes crazy" and im foaming at the mouth.

This author is such a billy anti, i think st4 took notes from her for how to represent Billy. I know its all told from Max, a 12 year old whos just sharing her feelings and observations but so much of this was just. Hhhhhh exhausting.

It wouldve been so easy to have Billy zone out and dissociate with the burning cat instead of forcing him to laugh and act insane (also if you think lighting a dead animal on fire is the making of a sociopath have you never been outside as a kid and found something dead and just, fucked with it. Its dead, i think lighting a dead animal on fire is probably the most tame tampering you could do. Not to call myself out but when i was maybe 8 i found a dead toad and i wanted to know what its skeleton looked like and how it decomposed so i took it apart. Kids are bizarre and teen boys are kinda destructive.

The whole scene with billy coming home halloween night and getting beat was upsetting and how it was never mentioned again was infuriating. Him getting attacked by Neil, punched several time getting a black eye and bloodied lip then beaten with a fucking belt. How do you just willingly write that shit then turn around and go "oh yeah nah this 17 year old who ive just said was verbally and physically abused multiple times is a dangerous monster who doesnt deserve sympathy". Im over it, if aang can put aside a century long fued to help his abused enemy who in turn still chased him off but was redeemed in the end then Billy and Max have the stepping stones to do the same, have max put an ice pack down, let billy Sort himself out, its so easily im going insane

And that bullyshit narrative of saying Neil is racist and how Billy probably is too. fuck that, i cant speak for the racism but when i made my first trans friend i was nervous about having them at the house cause i wasnt sure how my family would react or treat my friend so i opted to keep her away too, my situation was more tame then Max, Billy and Lucas' and my family turned out to not be transphobic so it was fine but im gonna self project that Billy was just manic and worried about Max hanging with a black kid and what Neil would do to lucas and max if he saw them. Seeing as how the man got away with denying Max dinner right infront of Susan who did nothing. But also max says how shes not like her parents so its just unfair to turn around and go neil is awful so billy is also awful and wont ever get better

This book isnt canon but i want a similar book from Billy's point of view. But also all things considered i did like the insight into Max's possibly past in cali, her relationship with her dad and mom was pretty neat, even tho, say it with me, its not canon, i refuse, I'll believe in bigfoot before believing this book was proof read by anyone working on the actual show 🥴 i have more to say but its 2 in the morning and i think my eyes are leaking outa my skull, hope this incoherent lmaoo

#But i guess its true to the show by showing him sad and broken then mean and nasty in the same breath #Idk the more hate i see thrown at billy the stronger i love him lol #This is just a bullshit ramble #Stranger things #billy hargrove #max mayfield #Runaway max

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lilyliveredlittlerichboy · 2 years

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hm ok i know it was ages ago but i still wonder which way my ex is spinning the story tbh. i mean i know some of it?? he is portraying me as abusive and predatory. why? cus i lost my shit with him a bare handful of times? cus i didn't continue to treat him like i worshipped the ground he walked on, after he abandoned me and got married to someone else?

abandonment.

i built my life around him, accommodating him, caring for him. that's on me, yeah. ive learned since to not do that so much. but i was in my early 20s, still very young, when i met him, i didn't have a solid grasp of myself, much less my boundaries; which i could not set or enforce. in fact, a lot of my ex's behaviour was aimed to erode my boundaries. he needed to be included in everything. he needed to have my attention, constantly. if i wasn't giving him attention in the ways he wanted me to, it was always my fault.

so then he took off for a month and during that time left me adrift.

and I've been afraid of changing

cus I've built my life around you,

and then when i tried to be in contact during that month, he shot me down and accused me of guilt tripping him... for doing exactly what he wanted me to do literally the entire rest of the time.

when he got back, it was the perfect storm. he was married, had had a taste of the life he wanted to live. a life that didn't include me, at all, he had made that very clear in his behaviour towards me during that time.

he said he didn't owe me anything.

that was the moment i decided that well, in that case, I didn't owe him anything either.

and the months following that were awful, as he found ways to punish me for this. interspersed with joy the likes of which I'd never felt before - as I decided to come out of my cocoon and move on a little bit myself. as i fell in love with my now feyonce, i, too had a taste of the life i wanted.

and with my ex blaming me, bitching about me loudly where i could (& had to) hear, whining about how he just wasn't a priority to me anymore, somehow i felt disinclined to invite him into my new life, my newfound joy.

it turns out that if you tell someone that you won't be taking their needs into consideration anymore, that you don't owe them anything, they might end up not wanting to make you the number one top priority in their life anymore. huh. fancy that.

he punished me for it relentlessly for about 9 months before finally leaving.

in his side of the story, i had abused him.

had deliberately kept the relationship unequal (even when i actively empowered him to get his own income. even when i encouraged him to have his own life, pursue his now wife, pursue other friendships and relationships).

i had enabled his drug addiction (which he already had when he met me; it was medicine for him you see. if id pushed him to give it up that would have been held against me just as much)

had been violent (once grabbed his arm during an argument. and then when he was married and i found out that his WIFE thought we weren't sharing a bed/room anymore, i told him to get out of my room. i threw his clothes in the hallway once. SO VIOLENT)

I'd insulted his wife by calling her ugly (he called her ugly first and i routinely got punished for disagreeing with him)

i was a nonce (we were both adults when we started dating)

I was disrespectful of his boundaries (his boundaries were "i don't wanna hear about 🐻" and then "you violated my boundaries by not telling me you were going out to see them", his boundaries were "you gotta look after me and help me out even if im being an absolute shithead to you in the process" and "you can't talk to my friend, our mutual housemate" and "you can't rant about this situation on twitter" and "you can't go to see your partner for a park date". yeah)

possibly he's also saying i stole his cat or even cut him off from seeing pictures of him (he left malibu in my care willingly, acknowledging and admitting i was gonna be a better cat parent for him. i never said he couldn't approach me for pics and even now wouldn't shut him out if he asked)

anyway

yeah this post about boundaries got me thinking about him again for some reason. my life is so much brighter without him in it and i regret nothing??? if he wants to see pics of the cat he's more than welcome to ask for them. i would be happy to share. Malibu is so happy these days. a confident, loving, playful little boy. he's in excellent health and loves to chase string and he loves his sister so much. he loves 🐻 so much. he's so happy.

that's my takeaway from this. my cats are happy. they love my partners and they love me. that's all i need. t b h.

#i need a tag for my own rambles #apologies for the rant #still not over this tbh

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azenta · 4 years

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Can you explain more what the reaction formation thing is like?

Reaction formation is that weird ass bitch defense mechanism that makes you react the opposite of how you feel. Very basically described, that's it. But it doesn't tell much on it's own why it acts this way.

Reaction formation happens when what you feel goes againt your beliefs or even values, especially in relation to yourself. Simply put, it's like emotion vs mind. When this happens, your ego is fast to pick up there is a contradiction in what you are feeling and what you believe is right. Your ego's job tho, is to protect your sense of self, and it does so by assuring coherence and logic with what youthink is right and true (core beliefs, fears, etc.). So, for that, it will thus make you act in a way to be coherent with your belief/value, to kinda balance out that wild "incorrect" emotion.

Example: Karen is a woman who always valued children and desired one. She always has been extremely caring and mothering with children or even with her closed one, as being caring is central value for her. If you love your closed one, then you'll care for them no matter what, is what she believes. So come the day where she finally got a child. Proud and happy, she is convinced she'll love her child like no other mother does. But as some may sometimes forget, it's not easy to take care of someone who entirely depends on you and do require you to make some sacrifice.

It's been 6 months, it's 3 am, wednesday, it's the second week baby John keeps waking up at those impossible hours and won't shut until 4:30 am. Of course, Karen takes care of baby John. She is a good mother, and her husband needs sleep, because he works tomorrow while she doesn't. But Karen is exhausted. She barely have slept since those last couple of weeks, when she usually have a strict sleep schedule since years. It has been totally overthrown since Jonh is born. Actually, Karen feels angry, she is pissed and surprise herself swearing and getting mad at her baby. She wakes up her husband and ask him to take care of the baby or she "will throw him up the fucking wall". Karen's husband is not a selfish manchild retard and willingly offer help (🙃)

Morning comes and Karen is filled up with guilt. How could she, the most loveful mother of the whole planet, could not succeed to take care of her precious child?? How could she even dare think to throw her child on the wall??? This is where Reaction Formation happens. This thought is "Unforgivable" in Karen's view, even tho it totally speaks of how much her limits were crossed and how much she needed rest. The thought was extreme, but so were the urgency of her needs. It was a desperate way for her brain to tell her to STOP. But, Ego had another opinion, and Reaction Formation makes her do the complete goddamn opposite.

The next few days, Karen fully take responsibilty over the child, barely allow her "poor" husband that still works to get burdened with the child's "caprices", and even go as far as losing all remaining of sleep she had. She dedicates herself twice as more as she did. She totally sacrifice herself in other words. Because, "if you love your closed one, you'll care for them, no matter what". This includes her husband. She makes him breakfast, diner and supper, all while dedicating her whole self to the baby. Her husband is concerned and tries many time to offer help, or at the very least, to make the meals for them. But Karen strictly refuses, because she is a caring loving mother and wife. Karen keeps having more and more outburst of emotions and the cycles go downhill. She ends up suffering from depression which lead her to be incapacitated in taking care properly of baby John. Exactly because her beliefs are this much devastating, she ends up fulfilling her fear of being a bad mother ; uncaring for her loved one.

She totally went against her feelings, even went against all her needs to an harmful extent, but respected what she believed right. This is what Formation Reaction can make someone do. The exact opposite of what they need.

This example is extreme and formation reaction can happen for more minor things or doesn't become always that destructive. But in 1s, 2s and 6s (superego type), this mechanism gets the most destructive, especially 2w1s and 1s overall (because of their overlap). As a fix, they'll also tax you and incline you more to this mechanism.

To make it much more simple, here is the list of the most to least likely to use Reaction Formation, regularly and at great length:

2w1 (image core kills you on sight)

1w2

1w9

2w3

6w7

9w1

6w5

3w2

3w4

9w8

5w6

5w4

4w3

4w5

7w6

8w9

7w8

8w7

Tho, take this list as approximative, your fixes will make it vary considerably. An 8w7 with a 2w1 6w7 fix will be prone to formation reaction despite having a core that goes against the Formation Reaction principle.

A more minor example could be this: Elsa values harmony and tend to avoid conflict the most possible. She tends to dismiss things that can irritate her since she thinks she should "pick her fights" and so, not get reactive over everything she finds inappropriate. However, what she defines as conflict is more "disagreemets" than actual conflict, so she avoids disagreement the most possible. She believes staying unaffected and neutral is one of the best way to avoid any disagreement and that in general, when her needs cause those disagreement, it's basically wrong, since she should know "better" in how to manage her needs. But, she also highly care about her integrity and would not tolerate anyone disrespecting her.

Andrew, her friend's roomate, noticed her coming out of her room and found her very beautiful, but he is socially awkward and therefore catcall her while winking clumsily at her as a way to make her know he finds her gorgeous. She gets extremely mad, even disgusted. She decides to remain cold, but make a weird smile at him even if uncomfortable as she doesn't want to make things too "conflicting", and also because "it's wrong to get mad over something so "minor" ", she is someone "calm and wiser than that". Therefore she represses her feelings of anger. She does something totally against her feeling, but that totally fulfill her beliefs.

Some of you can tell me all they want that: "Isn't that normal to dismiss some things like that?"

My answer is: If you dismiss your feelings and act at the opposite of it, like Elsa or Karen, then grats, you use reaction formation my dude. If you feel uncomfortable, you should communicate your discomfort. What matter is *HOW* you share it. The problem is never about "what" need or emotion you share, but rather how and when, because the other person might not be receptive. What tells you use reaction formation is the fact of doing something exactly the opposite of what you need, when you actually felt it. Like, Elsa smiling despite actually feeling uncomfortable. Or Karen needing rest but stubbornly denying it and doing twice as more. Because your beliefs tell you that the way to go is opposite to that feeling of yours.

The solution on the last example could be as simple as to ask Andrew wtf he is trying to do, because she is uneased, even mad by that. It would 1. tell Andrew his message really doesn't went through 2. It would therefore allow Andrew to know this wasn't socially wise and allow him the opportunity (that he might or might not seize) to learn a more appropriate way to communicate his own feelings (so more social skills) 3. And allow Elsa to respect her feelings(/herself) and so, her boundaries, all while remaining calm, without actually picking up a fight.

Also, one of the insidious consequences of this mechanism is that your feeling is still quite loud and will come back at you even louder, as briefly mentioned in Karen's example. Therefore, it will reinforce the cycle in a negative way, like for Karen making her crash. While for Elsa, it is far less worse and she might draw a line more so in those cases because she also holds a belief about respect. But, Elsa might start thinking men are even more gross instead of actually taking up her space, and Karen that she is a failure for being unable to do anything anymore.

This mechanism is easier to understand when you experimented it, and if your type is low into the list mentioned above, it might still be confusing or eluding you. Tho, know that horrid shit exist and if you know someone with those types, then keep it in mind and validate their feelings and needs. And if you noticed that shit in you, then the key to it is to go against what you believe is right, because if it requires you to go against your needs, then it is FALSE AND WRONG.

Last thing at my @id type, your desires and your needs are two different things, learn the difference because that's why you acting on your """needs""" always end up wrong. Because it was a mere fucking desire.

#ask #formation reaction #defense mechanism #enneagram #guess which ennea core types are karen and elsa uwuwu #btw dont hesitate to ask further clarification. defense mechanisms can be whack to understand #also i got another ask about it but about how it plays out in 1s specifically so you might want to read it first.#when ill come to it. some day.#rip #also not how i didnt mention ivs in this fucking post (until now).#the only thing this shit does is influence with whom it is more likely to trigger

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shesawriter39049 · 5 years

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|FAMILY TIES| M| MAFIA AU| 4

2K SNEAK PEEK (Full things looking like it will be between 10-11k)

GENRE:SMUT/ ANGST

AU SUMMARY : A powerful alliance made up of of 4 families spanning over a decade, is suddenly turned on its head when one family has a new leader after an unexpected death. Well let’s just say he’s not down to follow the somewhat civilized rules your families have inforced. Sooo now, it’s game on…

WARNINGS: Very,very breif mentions of somone OD’ing and breif mentions of sex work! Just so ya can’t say I didin’t warn ya!

LOCATION : 40 Sudbury St, Boston, MA

TIME: 2:07 PM

“Don’t look too excited to see me…” A coy smile tugged on the corners of sheriff Morales lips as closed the door walking over to take a seat in front of Taehyung.

Facial expression still reading the same amount of inconvenience, annoyance,exhaustion, unamusement, lack of interest, shall I continue?

“You litterally arrested me, after I just hopped off a 15 hour flight, outside of Leo’s viewing, yes...Monti I’m fucking thrilled to be here…” The level of crass that danced throughout his voice earned a chuckle from the elder.

“It’s not like I took you away in cuffs I just simply asked if we could talk down at the station, you know you didn't have to tell me yes..” There was an underlying condescending demeanor that laid within his voice.

Taehyung’s eyes instnatly rolled to the back of his head as he huffed out a exaggerated sigh “Yeah because I’d totally prefer the alternative which would be you on my door at 1am while I’m in the middle of having sex. Yeah no, I’m good on that, I’d rather just ride down here, in that gaudy ass ford and talk ...” Reclining slightly in his chair as, lacing his fingers together to cradle behind his neck.

“Oh for fucks sake, I’m sorry my work car isn't boujee enough to go with your Gucci…” Tone snarky as every as he gestured to Tae’s baby pink, slim fit, Italian cotton dress shirt.

Earning an unamused brow raise from the younger “Actually this is one of my more modest pieces it’s Hugo but continue..” A smirk tugging on the corners of his lips as he continued pushing the officers buttons. Clearly the two of them were very comfortable with each other by now, weather that’s a good or bad thing is currently up for debate.

“Oh my bad Fugo…” Sheriff Morales rolled his eyes not even aware of the miss pronunciation triggering a low chuckle from Taehyung.

“Hugo…” he countered almost sign-song like, always one to have the last word and at that point Morales was over it.

“Listen kid, I don’t care about your overpriced Easter Sunday shirt! I care about the two 18 year- old boys that have turned up dead within barley 72 hours!”

Taehyung’s brow furrowed in confusion as he ran his fingers through his hair, actually deciding to stop being a little shit and listen.

“I don’t know if you’re aware , or if you were already out jet setting while buying more Gucci, and Hugo” Making sure to put emphasis on the pronunciation of “Hugo” since Taehyung corrected him moment’s prior.. “But almost 3 days ago, we found him…”

Raising his Ipad to show a picture of a person Taehyung didn’t even remotely recognize, earning no type of physical reaction. Which is what Morales was secretly checking for, but taehyung knew that already, trying to catch him off guard to see if the faces would trigger any emotions. Only in all honesty this one really didn't!

“He was found dead in the back of car on the side of the highway, a really nice one actually...Mercedes AMG, completely doped out, he appears to have OD. There were some needles,and a combination of other drugs in addition to some cash left in the car ...”

Okay, now Taehyung was really confused, that it definitely was NOT the kid from a couple nights ago. Dropping his neck, squinting, adjusting the angle of his head slightly as he continued investigating the picture. Almost as if he was trying to see if the face would change the more looked at it but no, that just wasn’t him!

After a few seconds, of observing Taehyung’s body language and lack of response, he moved onto the next picture .Keeping the device facing him until he was ready for Tae’s reaction..

“Around 11am today….we found, him…” Flipping the Ipad around to show the second picture and thank god Taehyung was a pro when it came to his poker face , because THAT’S the boy he recognized..gazing straight ahead, almost aiming through the paper at this point.

“Channel 2 don’t even know about this yet-”

He heard Taehyung clear his throat as he re-adjusted in his seat “So, why am I here, why am I getting the breaking exclusive!?Not like I’m some damn reporter reporter running around in penny loafers.” Keeping the same dry snarky tone, not wanting to show any inflated emotions in response to the second image.

“No smart ass your not...if you’d shut up and let me continue maybe will get to why your here yeah!?” Brow arched at the implied question, whilst tae didn't even verbally respond, just flagging his hand gesturing for him to continue.

“ANYWAYS,it appears the two of them are, well were kinda sorta friends, but this kid, the druggie if you will, is pretty well known around that area as such. His name is Jeff, he’s 18 and has been in and out of rehab more times than anyone can count. The boy on the right..”

Cringing internally he never wanted to know the boys name...he just didn't, almost a second away from internally screaming so he didn’t have to put a name to the face!

“Chritstian, 18, foster kid….he was found in the back bathroom of a packie he works at down in the Dot-”

“Again, no disrespect but why. Am. I. Here!? I’m tired, I have a migrane and I’m hungry please get to the point.” The aggervation was dripping from his tongue at this point, way past exhausted and disgusted to listen to some long drawn out story.Even though after the past 50 some odd hours he’d just spent in China all he really want’s is to go home and crawl in bed with you!

Rolling his eyes at Teahyung’s lack of patience before continuing the story.

“This packies a little shady, actually a lot shady, everything from drug deals to sex work has been rumored to happen in the storage room. The only cameras they have outside, angled in front of the back alley entrance. There low quality, probably intentionally but the quality was atleast good enough for us to see this…”

Pulling up a video on his ipad, propping it on it’s stand for the two of them to watch together. Around 1:30Am they can see Christian, who phsycially backed into the alley, get out of the Mercades heading into the store. Gazing at the screen as Morales speeds up the tape a good 10 or so minutes. Only to find Jeff walk up to the same door, due to the time, the packie was technically closed, it even seems Christian willingly let him in.

Just as Taehyung was about to make a snarky comment about how this has nothing to do with him, you can see the tail end of a car parked at the end of the alley. It’s unclear if Jeff actually got out of the car or not, but just the placement alone at this time of nigh is hella suspect.

Zoomining in slightly on the car in question ...even through the pixelation, there’s a little custom badge by the back fender.

The realization has the loudest cackle ripping from Taehyung's throat, while Morales jerks back in his seat not even sure how to process current display unfolding before his eyes. The combination of jet lag and just utter disbelif has Taehyung’ combusting until his face is damn near the same color as his shirt, and tears are threatening the corners of his eyes.

“Ah, shit, that’s funny…” Leaning up to bracing his weight on his arm as he cradled the side of his face between his middle finger and thumb. A smug smirk tugging on the corners of his cheeks as he gazed back in Morales direction.

~~~~A GOOD 72-ISH HOURS PRIOR~~~~

(Picks up where part 3 ends)

You found yourself almost caressing the back of his head the more the reporter talked, apparently it was some random woman who found him. She said she was just driving home from work around 5am, she was a nurse and the light was left on, out of habit she just felt the need to see if everything was okay.

[Woman on the new’s being interview ]

“The position of his head, and the way his jaw laxed, could just appear as he was sleeping to the naked eye. But I’m an ER nurse have been for almost 15 years I recognize the symptoms right away. I tried to revive him prior to calling 911, even against my better judgment ,but he had been out for at least an hour, it was no use…”

[Reporter]

“The police are still trying to put two and two together as it really doesn't make sense, there was cash in the car, as well as the car itself is a mystery. We have finally identified the young man in the car, his family as also been contacted-”

Right as she was about to say his name, and ask if anyone knew anything to please contact the police he shot up, almost bolting for the door. Almost as if he knew the boys name it would seem all too real. Little did you know it’s because Taehyung puropusly never asked for his name, he’s not stupid is men knew, they even had a pciture of his ID. But Tae felt like this boy deserved to have something for him, and him only...so his name was never spoken.

You contemplated back and forth for a couple moments before ultimately decided to go check on him.

The sound of your heels echoed through the hallway of the “Employees only” area..trying to figure out where he could be “I’m over here..” The bass in his voice rumbled off the walls , almost startling you, not expecting for him to actually reach out to you.

You found him resting against the wall hands in the pocket of his jack, gazing up at the ceiling

“ The boys did a full z30, and went over it with a black light..not that it even matters now.” Voice trailing off slightly as he brought his attention down to his boots, fidgeting with the rings on his fingers.

“They actually ended up taking the car to some park,I guess they decided to change locations after I knocked the mother fucker out. Opting to not sterilize an entire car on his property,while he tends to his dislocated dorsum. “ A slight smirk moved up his face as he gazed over at you “So if you're thinking I’m worried about me..I’m not..the plate was switched, garmin removed, and the cars not even registered.I’m just….” Shaking his head in slight disbelief as he runs over the past 24 hours in his head. “I don’t think he really even know how fucked up and dangerous this all really is, especially when you barely know what you're doin’ to begin with. He’s a walking death wish and he’s gonna fuck around and have it granted by someone that coudle been his ally..”

Even though his tone was hushed you could still feel the anger radiating off his body, raking his fingers through his hair, sinking back into the wall. “Come’ere, I know you didn't come out here to listen to me bitch from a far…” Signaling for you with his fingers, trying to hide the smile that was tugging up your face as you swayed in his direction. Opting to give him his space, not in the mood to get your face cracked, emotions far too fragile for that right now. You’ll end up shooting his indecisive ass, at this point.

Once you were in arms reached he pulled you into his frame, a slight squeal leaving your throat from how quickly he grabbed you

One hand resting on the hinge of your jaw the other one your waist , palm soothing up the small of your back. “How are you feelin’?” The question threw you off a little you found your eyes fluttering away from his and he noticed instantly. Tilting your head until you had no choice but to look at him. The emphasises on the word “you” let you know he was well aware that your always the one checking on him ..asking how he’s feeling. Now it’s his turn to do the same, I mean sure a good 17 years a litter but at least it’s a start right!?

Letting a deep sigh leave your body before responding “I’m angry, confused, and a little scared if I’m being honest but-”

Cutting you off immediately , shaking his head, a scof leaving his body in response “Over my dead body, will anything ever happen to you, so you can scratch that shit off your list of issues real quick..” He wasn’t asking , he was telling you how this was going to go and his tone left zero room for debate.

Tilting your head back slightly, blowing out a slow breath , you could feel your eyes burning as you kept fluttering them. Attempting to cut off the tears desperately trying to run down your face, funny thing is, even though you cried eariler today. That’s not a common trait for you no matter how upset you get, your not the most intune with your emotions either if we're being honest. You didn’t open up easily and hated, crying in front of people more than anything, you were just as much as a working progress as Taehyung.

The phrase “over my dead body…”was used very frequently, typically over minor issues, even jokingly for most. But it would always hold a deeper, darker meaning in your heart, the last person to say that to you was your mother. Used in the same context as Kim Taehyung and she meant it, wholeheartedly! You found yourself trying to pull away, not wanting to let him see you fall apart, because you knew you were going to. The more you tugged the tighter his grip became, “Tae please. Let. Me. Go…” You wouldn't look at him, staring up at the light fixture to your right, tone extremely dry, almost passive. The grip you held on his forearms got even tighter as you waited in silence,almost clinging to him.

He wasn’t going to fight you on this, if you wanted out..here ya go, the last squeez on your waist wasn’t possessive. Almost comforting as if he was letting you know if you wanted to come back he’d be right here. Tentatively loosening the grip he healed around your waist, letting you pull away from him, almost losing your balance in the process. Not realizing how much you were leaning on him despite trying to pull away all at the same time.

Yet you didn't move, the grip you held on his arms never faltered, dropping your gaze down to your feet, as he gently took you back into his arms. Bringing your hips flush to his, I guess you never realized he eased you the same way you did him. The feeling of your chest rising and falling against his as you coxed yourself out of crying, a single tear managing to slip out of your right eye before you could stop it. Turning your head, brushing it onto your shoulder hastily, your grip tightened as both eyes started to betray you simultaneously. Even though you refused to look back at him, he could feel your stomach tensing as you tried to slightly choke back the tears that were now streaming down your face..

Not forcing you to look at him, respecting your privacy in that aspect bringing his hands up to rub lightly circles into your back as he nuzzled his nose into the side of your neck. A side of Kim Taehyung that few would ever get to see, bringing your arms up to wrap around his neck, cradling the back of his head in your hands. “I’m not going anywhere…” the words brushed against your skin, funny how he automatically knew what triggered this without you even having to say anything. You didn't respond, only squeezing him a little tighter before pulling back, almost aggressive whipping your face before racking your fingers through your hair. A sheepish smile tugged on the corners of your lips as you finally made eye contact with him.

Neither of you said anything as you stepped a little closer, soothing your hand down his chest, over his stomach slowly. Suddenly feeling almost uncomfortably open and vulnerable in front of a man that’s been inside you more times that you can count. His eyes felt like they were burning straight through you as he gazed back in your direction. You couldn’t help but let your hand trickle down his zipper, trailing your fingers up and down his clothed length earning a hiss as he gripped your wrist.

“You know your thighs can’t handle another round from me right now, you need to fuckin chill before I have you bent over the bathroom counter.”

THAT’S ALL SHE WROTE, OR I guess...that’s all she posted lol ! Hopefully you guys are excited for part 4 !!! Lemme know!

Love you guys as always,

Rocki

#taehyung #taehyung smut #taehyung mafia #taehyung mafia au #kim taehyung #kim taehyung smut #taehyung au #kim taehyung mafia #kim taehyung mafia au #bts #bts au #bts mafia au #bts smut #kpop au #kpop mafia au #taehyung fanfic

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caffeineivore · 7 years

Text

Mojito

Senshi/shitennou (specifically A/Z this time), AU Angst, Crime, Drinks. Written a few years back for ficathon. PG-13.

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“Every life has one true love snapshot.” - Mitch Albom, The Five People You Meet In Heaven

***

It’s not much of a bar, really. There are no pool tables, no jukeboxes playing twangy country songs about love gone wrong. There are no dance or karaoke stages, no busty shot girls, not even four full walls. The sign overhead is in simple block letters, not a hint of neon lighting to be seen. The Crossroads is an unobtrusive little oasis in the midst of O’Hare’s busy terminals, and Zavier, though he meets and serves people from all walks of life, keeps himself separate from them-- a polite arms’ length at all times. He doesn’t doubt that they all have fascinating histories and tales to tell, but it’s better and safer this way.

He’s just cashing out a harried-looking businessman whose death grip on his iPad wasn’t ever relinquished, even for a second, through the course of two Sazerac’s, when she walks in.

Zavier’s first impression of her is understated class. Quietly expensive sapphire studs in her ears. A slim silver wrist-watch. Her carry-on luggage matches her purse precisely, though neither are emblazoned with flashy hardware or designer labels. A slim figure in a dark blue cashmere coat. Black hair. A heart-shaped face that is all sad blue eyes. Nervous hands with sensibly short nails.

Ten years ago, she would have meant not much more to him than one picked pocket or brandished switchblade away from quick cash.

Now, something about her catches his attention.

“I’d like a glass of Sancerre, please,” she tells him as she takes a seat at the bar. “Or just-- I don’t know-- whatever dry white wine you have available.”

She looks young-- early twenties, perhaps a few years younger than himself-- but that’s not the only reason he quirks a smile and asks for ID. The driver’s license shows her name to be Anderson, Amy M.,with an address in one of the ritzy towers on North Lake Shore Drive, aged twenty-two as of September 10th. She looks up into his face and he swears that he can feel the faint scar-- the location of a former teardrop tattoo and a souvenir of the fateful knife-fight eight years back that had landed him in prison-- on his left cheekbone throbbing.

Instead, he focuses on her, cocks his head to the side. “You don’t seem so sure of what you want.”

“Well, I’m not too much for the party scene, I’m afraid,” Amy M. Anderson murmurs, fiddles with the leather handle of her purse. “I’ve had wine on a few formal occasions, and I know that I like white better than red. I wouldn’t know what to order otherwise, you see? And... this sounds so terrible, but I think I just need a little... boost, if you will. To get on the plane.”

“I’ll make you something nice,” he tells her gently. “You’re usually one who knows what you want, I think. But this-- as you say-- this isn’t quite your scene.” He picks up a clean highball glass and some lime, some mint leaves. Something about her cool, fresh beauty suits a drink with a bit more class, takes a bit more skill, than a typical, ordinary fruity concoction. Many bartenders dislike making mojitos-- there is such a delicate balance when muddling mint and limes to release their essence without damaging them-- they take too much time and effort. The drink he slides across the bar a few moments later sparkles, brilliantly green mint leaves and lime wedges in perfect suspension in the iced soda and rum. She takes a cautious sip, then smiles faintly up into his equally green eyes.

“It’s good,” Amy M. Anderson says as she takes another sip. “You’re good at this. How did you guess? You must have a lot of experience working in bars.”

Zavier chuffs out a soft, self-deprecating laugh. “Not exactly. That is a long, boring story. Not good for a busy airport. Where are you headed?”

“Baltimore,” she answers, taking another sip of her drink. “I’m in my first year of medical school there, at Hopkins.” Another sad, sweet smile. “My plane’s running a bit late due to the weather, but that’s not really why I came here for a-- what is this drink called, by the way?”

“Mojito,” Zavier answers. Medical school in Baltimore. A North Side address. For all they might be residents of the same city, it’s a completely different world. And yet he has the oddest feeling that if she knew, she’d never judge him. Nonetheless, he has never been so grateful that the job requires long sleeves. “It’s made with rum and mint, mainly. And medical school is hard. I don’t think it’s unusual to be nervous.”

“It’s not the courseload,” Amy murmurs, staring down into the glass. “I have never been fazed by hard work, or difficult material. It’s just... not quite what I expected. None of my friends are going to school there. I’m okay with being alone, most of the time, but...” A sigh softer than a snowflake landing on a windowsill, “I never expected medical students to be so-- so arrogant, so elitist. We’re supposed to be the best of the best, studying at the top school to learn how to do good work and save lives. Instead, some of them will actually go out of their way to sabotage each other to make themselves look better. One girl in one of my classes had all of her notes for a whole term shredded.”

The cutthroat mentality, unfortunately, is one that Zavier knows all too well. In the mean streets of the South Side, it had been a way to stay safe-- attack before you are attacked, gain equally mean and untrustworthy peers for the protection of numbers. In prison, it had been a way to buck the system, to gain the respect of other inmates. Being hard often meant the difference between survival and destruction-- hitting first meant you were left alone. Any act of disrespect or defiance demanded retribution, and the cycle could be never-ending.

He watches her finish her drink as he ponders what to say. “You can’t let that get to you,” he finally says, idly wiping down the scant length of the bar. His fingers almost brush hers. “That way lies trouble. I know that many times, it’s easier to be angry than to be peaceful. Stay away from those sorts and protect yourself, but-- know that you’re better. And know that you will make it.” He takes her empty glass and meets her gaze, and smiles-- not the typical customer-service smile-- but as though trying to reassure her that there were still good things in the world-- cool drinks and spotlessly white snowfall and a future where she’ll save lives and he... he’ll perhaps make something of himself. There’s less than a foot between their faces-- he has no right to come any closer. So he straightens and wills himself not to stare at the way the rum brings a flush to her cheeks. “Someday, you’ll save those lives and help all the people whom you’ve always wanted to help. And everything else won’t matter.”

She cocks her head to the side and returns his smile, and he has the feeling he’s seeing something rare and precious as her lips quirk up. “You’re quite wise,” she says softly. “I don’t think you’re much older than I am, but you seem like you know a lot. Met a lot of people, experienced a lot of things.”

“Yes.” He doesn’t elaborate. She wouldn’t be shocked and appalled, he doesn’t think, but it is precisely the trust in those wide blue eyes that has him feeling ashamed of his past. Trust isn’t something often handed to him-- he can count with the fingers on one hand the number of people who’ve truly trusted him in his twenty-four years. And never before had it been so easily, willingly given. “I... I suppose I’m pretty good at reading people.” Not really in the best of ways, though, and he can’t bring himself to admit it to her.

“That’s a skill I wish I had more of,” she laughs softly. “Well, I appreciate the pep talk,” Amy M. Anderson reaches into her tidy purse, slides an American Express across the counter. Her signature belies the stereotype of doctors and their terrible handwriting, and she leaves a generous tip. She puts the card back into her wallet, but proffers a slim hand. “Thank you-- and, oh, I never did catch your name.”

“Zavier. Zavier Reyes.” Despite the winter gloom outside and the chilled glass she’d been holding, her hand is warm and soft in his. On impulse, instead of shaking it, he brings her hand up to his lips for a kiss, and is then charmed at the way her cheeks flush crimson. “Perhaps we’ll meet again.”

“I-- I’d like that,” she draws back and picks up her things. “Thank you, again.” She gets up from her seat, but instead of leaving right away, stands by the stool for a moment and smiles. “I feel a bit better now. Maybe someday I’ll be able to return the favour.”

He doesn’t let that give him any sort of hope, but he meets her gaze and nods. “Have a safe flight, Miss Anderson.”

“Amy.” With that, she makes her way out of the Crossroads, and he watches her until she disappears around a corner. He glances up at the big blue screen which lists all incoming and outgoing domestic flights, notes the estimated time of arrival for the next one out to Baltimore, and temporarily puts it out of his mind as he pulls a Budweiser draft for his next customer.

He doesn’t let himself think about it until he finishes his shift, and makes his way from O’Hare to the South Side on the Blue Line. It’s a long trip on a mostly empty train, and it’s easy for his mind to wander. Amy has no idea that the long sleeves of his shirt conceal old gang tattoos, or that he is on the final year of his probation. When she was probably busy studying for her PSATs, he was getting sentenced to five years in prison after pleading guilty to assault with a deadly weapon after a gang fight gone south as opposed to getting charged with attempted murder. Undoubtedly, she’d spent her senior year of high school interviewing with colleges, while he’d spent a good three months of what would have been his in Administrative Segregation in a prison six hours away from Chicago, angry and defiant and unrepentant, getting into fights and running the illicit tobacco racket on the inside.

It had been an ambush by two older, harder felons armed with homemade shanks which had landed him in the hospital wing for more than a month. He’d woken up to see Warden Shana Maynard sitting in a chair by the cot, looking down at him with inscrutable dark eyes.

“You know, Reyes, there’s only one route for you if you keep doing things the way you’re doing right now.” She doesn’t mince words. “I’ve seen people die in here. They’re oftentimes too young, too healthy, to go when they do. It’s never pretty.” Briskly, she hands him a water cup from the stand next to the cot. His hands are chained to the railing, so she holds it so he can sip through the straw. “You almost did, you know. They stabbed you five times. Twenty-seven stitches total, and one of the cuts missed your heart by an inch. You keep doing this, your luck will run out real quick.”

He can’t hold that searing, intense gaze, and looks away. His eyes land on a book on the stand. Hers follow, and out of the corner of his eye, he can see an enigmatic smile.

“It’s called Terra Nostra-- Our Earth. It’s written by a Mexican author-- I think you’ll like it. Learn something about your world, be proud of your roots. I’m leaving it here with you.” Usually, when dealing with particularly difficult prisoners, there are at least three officers on hand when handcuffs are removed. Perhaps the Warden is foolish, or just very brave. Instead of calling in any COs, she stands, an elegant woman in a dark suit who’d look more at home in a boardroom than anywhere associated with the Illinois Department of Corrections, then reaches over Zavier’s wrist and unlocks them herself. “Think about what you’re doing with the rest of your life, Reyes. You’re not even eighteen yet. Don’t be stupid and throw it all away.”

He ends up cracking the book open out of sheer boredom a few hours later. And then doesn’t set it down until lights-out. During his recovery, almost miraculously, a new book would always appear on the nightstand just as he’d be close to finishing the old one. And when he was moved back to his cell, there was a copy of Dostoyevsky’s Crime and Punishment that had not been there before waiting for him.

By the time that he had been up for parole, he’d managed to get his GED and a good start on college-level courses. It had been the Warden who’d introduced him to Damien Churchill, who would become his parole officer, and then Damien who’d found him a job and a place to live.

Now, Zavier disembarks from the Clark-Lake stop on the Blue Line and transfers to the Orange Line, which will take him the rest of the way home. The Osa-P Jewelry Store in Chinatown is only a few blocks down Cermak from his old haunts, but the area is free of graffiti and drive-by shootings. Nonetheless, he wonders sometimes that Mrs. Oh, his landlady, trusts him not to case the place. It’s one of many small mercies that he’s grateful for but has little right to expect, at least not yet.

The snow falls silently outside as he leaves the station, and a nearby clock chimes the hour. Amy M. Anderson, with her delicate hands and her clear, soft eyes, would be in Baltimore by now. Zavier stuffs his hands into his pockets as he treks the few blocks to his flat, and wistfully thinks of his mother’s injunction-- every Sunday when he visits her-- to find himself a nice girl.

He has no right to think of the lovely, wistful Amy M. Anderson in that way, because she’s making something of herself, and it is bordering on sacrilege for someone so tainted to crave something so pure. Indeed, she’s just one of countless people who pass through the Crossroads in O’Hare. He may never see her again.

The wind picks up, and perhaps it is his imagination, but he can almost catch a whiff of fresh peppermint, cool and bracing, and he straightens and quickens his steps. He may never see her again, but if he does, hopefully it will be in a time and place where he can look into her eyes without shame.

Someday...

#fanfiction #fanfic #a/z #sailor moon #senshi/shitennou

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missjackil · 7 years

Photo

One Year.... One year ago this month, I was introduced to these AMAZING gentlemen, and life has never been the same! I don’t recall the exact day it happened, but I do know it was March, 2016,

This is how it started... It was a very cold, snowy winter here in NJ last year, so my life long friend Dawn, my daughter Sarah, and I started binge watching different series on Netflix. Dawn first suggested this show Supernatural, which I had only heard of in passing a few times over the years, but she had watched since the beginning. She said I would love it, the brothers are hot, they hunt monsters and demons, delve a lot into Religion, which is a big interest of mine, I even have a degree in Theology, and am legally ordained. I checked the title on Netflix and saw it had 10 seasons available, and I said “Nah, that’s a pretty big commitment, I dont think I could stay interested in a show that long” then Dawn informed me, that it was still on the air and in season 11. Not my cup of tea, so I declined. She next suggested Nurse Jackie, which was really good, but so easy to burn through. I got the next pick and picked House MD which had been mine, and my daughter Sarah’s favorite series to date. This was a longer series than Nurse Jackie, 8 seasons instead of 7, and hour long episodes, as opposed to half hour. This took almost 2 months to get through. While watching this series again, I would keep commenting how much I loved the bromance between House and Wilson, to wish Dawn would always reply “The you will LOVE Sam and Dean!!” So since she had next pick, I agreed to give Supernatural a try. And this is what happened... *CRASH BOOM BANG <heavy flop>* “Wooooaaah easy tiger” “Dean?” Yeah, these boys are freakin adorable, and Im gonna love this bromance. I thought Dean was hot, and Sam was cute. Too young for me to think he was hot (me being 49 at the time) but I felt like the monsters and a lot of the horror was pretty lame, and sometimes even cheesy, though I did enjoy the chemistry the boys had with each other, and found Sam’s psychic visions to be an interesting element, I didn’t think I would stay interested for very long. For a while, we were only watching 2-3 episodes at a time, a couple times a week when Dawn would come over. Near the end of S1 I told her I didn’t think I wanted to continue. She asked me to PLEASE give it to the end of season 2 and if I still didnt like it, we could find something else. As promised, I did become more interested in S2. The humor was funnier, the acting got better, and the bromance was hotter, and the emotional moments were even more heart breaking. The first episode that left a really big impression on me was Born Under a Bad Sign. Until then, I knew Sam had psychic powers, and his father was worried he would turn dark, and left it on Dean’s shoulders to save him or kill him (good idea John, what the hell) and this episode was probably showing Sam go bad. I didnt want that, I liked the boys and I wanted to like both of them and not have to start thinking of Sam as evil, but he was soooooo creepy in that episode! I was so afraid he was going to rape Jo, fortunately he didn’t, but that “My daddy shot your daddy in the heeeaad” thing gave me the willies! I was so uncomfortable with this “Dark Sam” I thought maybe I couldnt continue. Dawn didnt want me to stop just yet, but didnt want to give me spoilers, she told me “Don’t worry, Sam and Dean are the GOOD guys and Sam is a REALLY good guy” so I continued. When it was discovered that Sam was possessed, I found that very interesting, I didn’t think the boys would ever succumb to the evil things, just kick their asses all the time, though I assumed theyd have their own asses kicked sometimes, I never thought the show would allow the heroes to really suffer.... boy was I wrong huh?? I recall my first noticing that Sam was hot and built like a truck, in Heart, and it was also the first time I really cried. I remember telling Dawn, I will watch it when she comes over but Im watching it on my own too, because now Im much more interested, but I also said “it’s kind of a bummer knowing the boys wont die, that will take away from the suspense and emotional moments when it’s feared they might die, and I remember her giving me this look... she said “trust me, you know nothing”. She was right ... All Hell Breaks Loose 1 & 2 had me sobbing! When Sam dies in Dean’s arms and Dean sobs into his neck, I dont think Ive ever seen such intense, realistic grief on a TV show. And then Dean goes and sells his soul for Sam!! This turned what I thought was a “My brother is my best friend” love into a “Id willingly spend eternity in fire and torment, to have one more year with my brother” love. That was a big turning point for me. I new Id watch it till the end and couldnt wait for those long days off when I could just binge all day long. Then Season 4 happened... I dont know when exactly it happened, or which episode it was, but somewhere early in S4, I discovered the most amazing thing. I woke up one day and realized I am madly in love with Sam Winchester! And to top it off, I was hopelessly addicted and obsessed with SPN! I wont give a rundown of how each season hit me, but its been a crazy, emotional, tragically painful, beautful roller coaster that I have no intentions to ever get off of. By the time I got to S9 and started seeing the episodes dwindle away, I didnt want to finish too fast, yet I wanted to keep binging, so thats when I decided to start rewatching. ration out the newer episodes so I dont finish too fast, and binge the ones Ive already seen, and Ive done that continiously since then, and that was in May. By the end of June, I had watched everything on Netflix and purchased all of S11 On Demand and just kept finishing and starting over, rinse, repeat. What I have learned... I mean no disrespect to Dean, I love him... but, if he ever says “As long as Im around, nothing bad is ever gonna happen to you” ... just RUN!! He said this to Sam in S1 and things just unraveled fast for poor Sam. I dont think there are many bad things LEFT that haven't happened to Sam, and we still have at least 2 more seasons to go!!! To me, Sam is the most beautiful, kind, selfless, brave character ever. Yet, he can be a little selfish on occasion, but if you needed any of the duct tape and safety pins that hold him together, he wouldnt think twice about giivng them to you. He is scared fairly often, but it’s never stopped him from facing any big bad monster life could hand him.Season 10 was definitely not his most attractive season (that hair?? WHAT??) and if you piss him off, he can viciously sting with his words at the very least, or be brutally lethal with his hands when need be. He is a full on nerd, but not the least bit pretentious about it. He doesnt think he is better than anyone, and maybe even not as good as most. He is brilliant, but wont ever make you feel stupid. He is the sweetest, kindest gentleman you’ll ever meet, but 100% badass as well. But most of all. he loves Dean with everything in his life. He will never leave him (again) for anyone. If he ever finds a significant other, they will have to accept him and Dean as One person. Package deal and thats it. To me, Dean is a rock. He rarely ever changes, This isn’t a bad thing. This compliments Sam, who is ever changing. Dean doesn’t live inside his head. He expresses his feelings more physically than with words, though he isnt one to mince words if you need to hear it. He’s emotional, not afraid to cry, but maybe afraid of who he allows to see it. He’s not perfect, he has made a lot of poor choices for himself and for Sam as well, but never with any ill intent (other than when influenced by a Supernatural force) He is a sweetheart, who unfortunately carries too much baggage. In Regarding Dean I feel like I met the REAL Dean that is lost under decades of pain, lossm and never ending violence. He can piss me off big time, but I forgive him because Sam does, and the most important thing in his world is Sam. There is nothing he wouldnt do, nor lines he wouldnt cross for Sam, and I believe he would give Sam anything in his power if Sam would simply ask. What I think of the side characters Cas, Crowley, Rowena, Bobby, etc.. all good characters who bring a lot of interest to the show, but none are strong enough characters to have their own storylines apart from Sam and Dean. Their side stories arent very interesting. I would watch a show that was only Sam and Dean (which is what I prefer) but I wouldnt watch a show that was only Cas or Crowley or whomever. They should support Sam and Dean and thats it, in my opinion.

What I have learned about the Fandom... Supernatural is the Holy Reaches of Heaven to them and they are Religions. Separate groups of individuals, expressing their love for the show and the characters in different ways. Some SPN religions are open and accepting, and some are vicious and hateful. Everyone gets different things from different parts of the series, but some of these religions, think their thoughts are the best and only True Canon even when sometimes, their thoughts are not canon at all. There are some fun, silly, kind loving fans in the SPN Family, and I have met a few, but Ive also seen some unnecessarily hatefull, mean spirited individuals who I cant consider family. SPN belongs to me, and it belongs to you. Take from it what you take from it... blog your blogs, go meta crazy, ship your ships, and write the shit out of fan fic... but please dont belittle and berate those who think differently. It is a ficitonal show, no one is going to go to Hell or be arrested for their views on it. If you don’t like it, dont watch it, but let those who do still love it, like myself, enjoy it while they can. Don’t go trying to hurt our feelings with “It should end!!” because someday it will, we know this, but we want it to live on for as long as J2 are happy to do it, and even then, it’s gonna hurt like the death of a loved one to see it go, so try to be more considerate okay? If you stayed to read ALL of this, You are precious to me :) and thank you!

#supernatural #1 year anniversary #many years to come

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