#especially and unfortunately the jared one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

devilmademewriteit · 9 months

Text

If You Lie Down With Me

pairing: (pre-ellie) dbf!joel miller x fem!afab!reader

summary: there’s only one guy in all of boston that can get you a morning after pill. unfortunately, on top of being a huge asshole, Joel Miller also happens to be your dad’s closest peer.

warnings: rough sex / smut (masturbation, fem penetration, oral [m receiving]) so 18+ only content; unprotected sex; light choking & restraint; light dom/sub dynamic; fem afab reader; reader has long-ish hair (that gets touched); plot-typical violence (guns, death); plot deviations (no Tess); medication ingestion; pet names (baby, sweetheart, angel); dubcon (slight intoxication, power imbalance, no explicit consent).

word count: 6.5k+

no use of y/n in this fic

alright y’all I’m baaaaAAAaack! so this is basically the other version of Dark But Just a Game that I started back when I was writing it & figured I’d finish it to get out of my hiatus. like any devilmademewriteit fic, it’s dark and nasty and deprived like meeeeeee <3 hope u enjoy !

don’t forget to reblog, check out my masterlist, sign up for the taglist, & leave any comments / feedback / & suggestions!

(ps: new part of Salvatore up next !)

—

“three times the guy I ever thought I would meet, so don't say you're over me when we both know that you lie”

— lana del rey, ‘If You Lie Down With Me’

—

Fuck.

Waking up to a racing heart, a pounding head, and a stomach swimming with nausea was never ideal, although it was always a better experience alone — when you could squint and hiss at the light slicing through the weaknesses in the drapes without hearing your groans echoed by a lower, louder, and annoyingly more pitiful voice.

Right. What was his name?

Jared? Jordan? Jermaine?

Ah, who cares.

If he’d wanted a safe place to nurse his hangover, he shouldn’t have fallen asleep in your bed. Sure, the odds of dad being conscious at this hour (especially the odds after a party like last night’s) were Kate Moss — no, Rolling Stones — slim, but the man would get up at some point, meaning that this poor J-whatever was likely sleeping through his only window of escape from certain homicide.

You whisper. You shake him gently. You gingerly tap the roundness of his bicep.

Huh — Not bad.

You congratulate last-night-you for reeling in this morning’s good-looking catch.

Still… nothing. Not a twitch. Nary a croaked ‘lemmesleep’ graces your ears.

After loosing an exasperated sigh and running through your options, you decide to take the most effective (and least girl-next-door) route. The corner of your elbow collides with his ribs, and the boy jumps up, his loose, blonde curls as wild as his eyes, searching the room for his attacker.

You want to smile at the scene, but the motion hurts your head.

“Y’gotta go,” you croak out, thumbs rubbing circles against your aching temples.

He collapses onto his back, copying your movement with his own fingers to his brow. “God. I feel like shit.”

Despite muttering your agreement, you let your eyelashes flutter closed and your weight turn you away from last night’s paramour: no use figuring out who he is after the (f)act — that just makes it personal.

After a few breaths, the boy moves back up to a shakey sitting position.

Probably sourcing for his clothes.

He reeks of booze and sex — but then again, so do you. His roughened, unfamiliar tenor climbs to barely above a whisper, “Z’something stuck on my leg… blood, or something…”

His interrupting your suffering comes as a deeply unwelcome annoyance, so you try to sort him out to clear him out: “Prolly just the condom,” you mumble, rolling back onto your shoulders, reluctantly supervising his movements.

He lifts up fully, sitting criss-cross and pulling his calf towards him.

“No,” he tries to laugh but succumbs to the nausea, settling for a low breath instead, “S’blood, dude, from beer darts — and I didn’t use a condom.”

Your eyes immediately dart over, settling on his naked, wretched, shivering form. He notices your ire and the hitching of your throat, immediately defensive.

“I asked if you wanted to.”

Unfortunately, he had. The memories of your drunken entanglement start to resurface inside your mind. “It just feels better without one.” This time, you curse last-night-you for being such a careless, inconsiderate, horny bastard.

You’re making problems for me, girl.

“J’s get out.”

J-whatever spares no time complying, collecting his few strewn belongings and staggering out the front door. Once it slides shut, so too do your poor, weary eyes.

Shit.

There goes the afternoon.

Getting your hands on condoms in the QZ was at least fifteen times easier than snatching a morning after pill. Those were a hot commodity, especially among the younger, less responsible crowds.

Luckily for you, as a member of aforementioned younger, less responsible crowds, you knew where your best chances lay in finding whatever it was you needed (if what you needed was deeply immoral or wholly illegal). Unluckily for you, that ‘best chance’ happened to be your dad’s closest and longest-running business partner: temperamental, judgemental, frustratingly competent, Joel ‘Local Asshole’ Miller.

But that could all be dealt with after another eight hours of sleep.

—

Opportunity strikes sooner than expected.

Miller’s in your living room by the time you wake up, the low rumble of his southern baritone recognizable even through the closed door. After scrambling to throw on some clothes, you press an ear to the chipping paint, hoping to determine the number of bodies gathered in your home.

Not many. Just Miller (and the old man, of course).

The latter’s presence bodes ill for you. This would all have to be done in secret, which was not an uncommon strategy where ever the former was involved. No one dealt with Joel Miller to conduct clean-cut, wholesome activities. No one was calling him up for a spare copy of the holy book.

No, getting him alone was essential.

A drink slams down on the counter. After a good, patient ten minutes, you hear your father (‘s rather crude way of) excusing himself to the washroom and heavy-set footsteps decrescendoing down the hall.

This is it.

You slip through the door.

At first, your company takes no notice of you, his eyes still glued to the maps and papers littering the counter before him.

Then, a low grumble: “fun night?”

His voice makes you weak in the knees — an involuntary, near ritual-like response you’d noticed around your mid teens and hadn’t managed to kick yet.

You swallow before responding. “Yes.”

It’s all you manage to muster. Miller finally looks up, wincing slightly as his back straightens. He looks tired, at least more than usual, with his wild, grey-streaked hair tousled and the lines by his mouth cutting deep into his skin.

You’re sure you don’t look much better, a suspicion proven by the man’s slowly spreading, barely-noticeable smirk. That gaze makes you self conscious, mute; your right hand snakes up, absent-mindedly dragging a fallen bra strap back to its proper position.

“So, what was his name?”

He’s teasing, sure, but Miller was there last night. He’d always had sharper perceptions than your father did, especially — and ironically — when it came to you. That skill tended to squander your confidence as the daughter of a modern-day mafia-boss and the owner of a hard, violent heart.

Rushed by the sound of your father’s footsteps, you default to honesty.

“I don’t remember.”

“Try.”

“Josh.”

Amusement flits across his stern expression. “Again.”

“Jamie.”

“Warmer.”

“J-J-something—”

“Gettin’ colder, sweetheart—”

“I need the pill.”

It just tumbles out, an exasperated, desperate plea. Miller, a bit taken aback by your candor, drains of his previous playfulness. You almost notice the split second those dark eyes glaze over. For a second, you’re almost convinced he’s distracted by his imagination’s recreations of the act that had you making such a request.

You almost notice the tingling between your thighs.

He stares. You stare back.

Fuck.

It was moments like this that made you wish Tess was still around. Oh, she wouldn’t be any kinder — no, not at all — but she’d certainly be more professional. Tess was all work, no play. Joel was…

You’re enjoying this, you bastard. You’re enjoying that I’m cornered like this, aren’t you?

The bathroom handle clicks when it turns, and your heart drops into your toes.

Maybe Miller really wasn’t going to help you. Maybe he didn’t have the pill and you’d just embarrassed yourself for nothing. Or, maybe he did, but preferred outing you to your dad at the very first opportunity — letting him deal with you the only way he knew how.

Your fears seem confirmed: his eyes leave the grace of your own, trailing back to his big, splayed hands on the countertop. Unwelcome tears burn the corners of your eyes as the panic begins to set in, as footsteps begin to fall…

“Mine. Tonight.”

It’s low and rushed, but it’s clear, cutting off to the sound of your father lumbering in. A man who saw, thought, and lived through transactions, he’s (thankfully) blissfully ignorant of the tension collapsing around him.

“Morning,” he throws your way.

A taunt, of course — it was well past noon.

You nod in acknowledgement, slowly backing into the doorway of your sacred, beckoning room. They resume their conversation from before, letting you sink into irrelevance.

Before shutting yourself in, you catch a few of Miller’s hushed words. They’re spoken casually to your father but, you later decide, surely meant for you:

“Not that one kid — Jeremy — don’t trust him.”

The door seals (well, not seals… it creaks on its rusty hinges and squeezes into its shrinking frame), and relief courses through you, reaching the very tips of your fingers.

That only lasts a minute.

Soon, you’re negotiating with the rising anxiety of being at Miller’s place alone, asking for his help with a problem that could’ve been avoided if you’d only kept your legs shut.

Alone with Miller, the both of you knowing that you hadn’t.

Crawling back under your covers, you begrudgingly make a vow of celibacy. If this was the cost of attention and a (potential) mid-range orgasm, you were about to become very frugal.

Dreams come easy, but they don’t come sweet.

Flashes of last night’s sins overlay Joel Miller’s unintelligible speech, his voice from the next room over lulling you into a rather confusing, disturbed sleep.

—

At nighttime, it’s a short walk to his building.

Down this alley, past this street, up this back stairwell. Part of being in with Boston’s seedy underbelly gained you access to the best and most up-to-date intel; by the age of twelve, you could run the safest — well, least policed — post-curfew routes from memory.

(Which had come in handy in situations a lot more dire than this.)

Sneaking in was easy, although you cursed him for being so preoccupied during the day. Coming in at this hour required some delicate maneuvers through a half-shattered window, and a less-than-graceful leap down left you with a nick on your cheekbone and a shallow cut along the side of your hand.

Thankfully, the blood mostly dries on your walk up the six or eight or ten flights of stairs. You don’t resent the exercise; it feels good to move, putting the jitters building in every still moment in abeyance.

Still moments like the kind that passes after a barely-audible, coded knock delivered by a girl sucking on the side of her hand, almost wishing for the door not to open.

It does.

He’s in jeans — dirty jeans, dusty — and a simple flannel. It’s Miller — it’s Miller at his most Joel-Miller-like-ness.

So why am I so fucking nervous?

He holds the door open, brows knitting at the sight of your hand in your mouth.

“Window,” You offer.

He mouthes a silent ‘ah,’ before leaning forward to duck his head out the door and, in the process, somewhat sandwiching you against his chest.

Maybe it’s because he smells like forest-fires, but your skin burns red-hot.

Miller looks both ways, checking the status of the hall (empty), then nudges you into the dim light of his place with the weight of his hand against your lower back.

The door shuts behind you.

You’d been here at least a million times before, but the thoughts rising now feel so… new. The jacket strewn on the side of the sagging sofa is his — Joel Miller has sat at this table and showered, slept, fucked inside these walls.

Cut it out. It’s just ‘cause you’re alone. And older.

But what about it, now that you were alone and older?

Old enough to know what goes on between a man and a woman and a little bit of desperation at just the right amounts… and there sure was a lot of him, and some desperation, too…

“Nervous?”

Your feet hit the floor, all thoughts evaporating at the sound of his word. Blushing, you try to de-code his taunt, spoken with playfulness and too much condescension.

“Wh — what’d you — nervous for what? No.”

He’s already across the room, sifting through a box of miscellaneous items. A yellowed lamp shade catches his side-profile, illuminates the smirk spreading across his face. Then, a low command:

“Relax,” and your spine settles, acceding to his wish. “Some girls get nervous, y’know, takin’ it the first time.”

Oh.

You clear your throat, daring to take a step into his place, incensed enough to trace the indents and stab-marks decorating his kitchen table.

“No.”

You’re taken aback by the accuracy and the strength underpinning your answer. It’s true, you aren’t afraid, and hadn’t been afraid of much in a very long while.

What’s a Joel Miller to your best friend’s public hanging? What’s he to a dozen rows of semi automatics raining down on your zigzagging toes? What’s he to a period cramp?

Like a bolt of lightning hitting you in the chest, that cocky, gauche and indelicate rebel you’d grown into reappears.

“I’ve been told I take things pretty well my first time.” The tension rises — this time, at your command — just as Joel does, carrying a leather pouch in his right hand. “And it’s not, anyways,” you add for good measure.

The leather drops onto the marked-up table. Joel crosses his arms.

“Not sellin’ me on givin’ you one of these, sweetheart.”

He gestures to the bag.

A mock-frown as you draw closer to him. His eyes, although severe, reflect the playfulness dancing in your own.

“Why not?” You ask, voice dripping with false innocence.

Joel’s gaze doesn’t stray as it hardens, focused on your own. “They’re for accidents, mistakes, attacks,” he explains, deep and dangerous, “Not girls who can’t keep their pretty lil’ legs together.”

Oof.

On one hand, it sounds like he’s genuinely chastising you for your careless behaviour. But, on the other, he sounds jealous, taunting, hungry.

I’ll play that hand.

Sleeping all day had left you wide awake, and that long-time, school-girl crush on the man before you was dying for content to fantasize about. Even if he pushed you off, you’d get to feel the weight of his hands on your body, right?

So, you return with a taunt of your own: “You think my legs are pretty?”

He shakes his head, his signature scowl spreading as he mostly ignores you. “I think you should at least use condoms,” a breath, “N’ know their first names.”

Ouch.

“I usually do.” you murmur, “and it broke last night.”

“Bullshit.”

“What do you mean, bullshit?”

Joel sighs and lowers himself into one of the four old, rickety chairs lining the table. His hand comes up to his temples and you notice how his legs, exhausted, part.

The man doesn’t deign to respond.

Irritation begins to well in your core, sneaking through your arms and up into your throat. The muscle in your jaw must be twitching like crazy.

How does he know? How the fuck does he always know?

Across the QZ, as a skilled liar and born and bred bandit, people tended to hold whatever image of you that you’d crafted for them.

Not Joel. Never Joel.

He saw through you in a way that had always felt… intimate. It was one of the reasons, you guessed, he didn’t dare spend too much time alone with you and why you’d always been curious about him (as a man, of course). Now, there was no avoiding your obvious vulnerability from either of you — you were stripped bare, your dressings in his hand.

It makes you want to flee as much as it makes you want to leap into his arms.

You snatch up the pouch, opening it up to find a mass of differently coloured and shaped pills. Rifling through, you ignore Joel’s stare boring into your hands’ erratic search.

“Yellow ones,” he says.

“I know what they look like,” you retort.

“‘Course you do.”

He moves faster than he should be able to.

One moment, your palm is slicing through the air, headed straight for the highest point of his cheek. The next, you’re facedown on the table. Your attacking hand is caged in by a much larger, much stronger one, pinned to the decaying wood; the other, he pins behind your back. Pills litter the floor — Joel’s boot crunches into a wayward one as he adjusts himself behind you, leaning over your struggling, smaller frame, immobilizing you with his weight.

“Let go of me—” you hiss, words smothered by the wooden surface pressed to your profile.

“—Shut up ‘n listen,” he commands, leaning over to tower over his trapped victim. “Try that again n’I’ll do worse’n kill you. Understand?”

Despite the authenticity of his threat, a strangled laugh wracks your lungs.

“Gonna turn me in for contraband, Miller? Watch them gun me down in the square?”

You smile through your heavy breaths. There, behind your hips, is a growing movement indicative of some other kind of punishment he’s got in mind.

“Or,” you continue on coyly, “Give me another reason to need that pill?”

Joel pauses, untangling your meaning.

Then, an exasperated scoff. His hold tightens on your wrist and you wince. “You always thinkin’ of the fastest way to get a man to fuck you?”

“Only when his cock’s pressed against my ass.”

He goes quiet — only for a moment. Somewhere outside, rounds echo through the night.

“Z’that what you want?” His voice is deep and threatening, promising of the kind of hard, mind-numbing fuck you’d been craving for weeks.

After a hard swallow, you nod, catching the raise of his eyebrows in your periphery.

A moment passes as he mulls over your answer. Only your shallow, anticipatory breaths populate the quiet space.

“Alright.”

And he lets go.

Heart racing, wrists aching, you flip around to his neutral, impenetrable expression.

“Get down on your knees.”

Without taking a moment to decide whether you’re living anything more than just a really fucked up dream, you sink to your knees, folding your hands in your lap (to stop them from shaking). Before you, Joel’s bulge twitches while he watches you yielding to submission, and you try to ignore the excitement building between your own two legs.

His eyes burn into yours: black, starved, weighty. He tells you to shut your own and you do, unable to resist the tone of his command. Within the self-imposed darkness, Joel’s following order — ‘open your mouth,’ — parts your lips as if they were under his spell. You wonder what you must look like to him, needy and ready to receive whatever you’re given.

He speaks again.

“Show me your tongue, angel.”

The gruffness punctuating his arousal doesn’t let you stand a chance. You let your mouth fall open wider.

Next, there’s rustling. You try to remember whether or not he’d had on a belt, listening and failing to hear the soft clinks of a buckle coming undone.

Too soon, something wraps around your chin — thick, calloused fingers — and the pressure of a thumb running down the middle of your tongue sends a rush of electricity down every stacked vertebrae. It’s slow, tantalizingly slow, as if the man were trying to memorize the feel of every groove, ridge, and bud on his leisurely way out.

When Joel drops his hand, a small weight remains at the back of your throat.

“Close.”

You do, opening your eyes to meet his own: severe and wanting — or wanting for severity?

It’s a pill. That much is obvious once the taste begins to spread, bitter and chemical and totally gag-worthy. He follows up with ‘swallow’ for his own sick enjoyment; by the time he says it, it’s clear that you already have.

What kind of game is this, Miller?

Your cheeks burn when your company kneels down. He places his big, broad hand partly on your neck, partly to the side of your jaw, and you’re still too taken aback to tear it off. The feel of his rough palm against your racing pulse silences every urge to enact revenge. Words don’t come — too quickly forgotten on one’s knees.

“You’re way too easy for your own good, sweetheart,” he near-whispers, shooting to kill in a blow packed tight with condescension. “Don’t let me see you here again.”

And that’s it: your cue to get lost.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Miller pulls away from your reddening skin, straightening to stand. You follow suit soon after, heart pumping lead, tongue bruised by the memory of his touch (more overwhelming than the metallic residue dripping down your throat).

He turns, running a few fingers through his hair. It’s the last look you get before resigning yourself to the journey back home.

Still, before turning the rusted handle, in a brief moment of respite, of clarity, you seize the final word:

“I’m only ‘easy’ when I’m drunk. Or interested.”

Silence courses through the room as Joel registers the meaning behind your confession.

“Goodnight, Miller.”

With that, you see yourself into the hallway, checking its status before tearing into the stairwell.

You barely breathe.

He wanted me — he had to have wanted me.

Miller was a pragmatic player; surely, he’d only bother to play with toys he liked like that… right?

Right?

Unable to clear your head or cool the heat radiating through your core, you take the long way home, the distant sounds of a war between rivals soothing the cacophony of noise swimming between your ears.

—

For the next two weeks, all you’re able to think about is him.

You think about him when he’s gone and when he’s in the room, grumbling in hushed tones to your father. You think about him when you’re unable to fall asleep, letting your hands slip beneath the waistband of your shorts, imagining your own fingers as thick, tan ones running through the warmth between your legs.

He takes no notice of you — a fact you deeply resent. Even in your skimpiest clothing, he’s like a damn horse with blinders on. You decide, in the past weeks, he’d either acquired the patience of Job or purged every sinful craving from his system when he’d stuck his fingers down your throat.

Naturally, you’re more than happy when, at breakfast (two in the afternoon), your father gives you the heads up about tonight’s gathering at the Bar (which was really just an asbestos-ridden basement equipped with enough prohibition-style gadgets and architecture to host a good ‘strategic meeting’ every other month).

“Everyone’s gonna be there,” he mumbles. “Need you to keep your ears open. Had to take a couple rats out last week…”

Everyone’s gonna be there.

Smiling to yourself, your thoughts start to spin out. Business, distractions, booze. Tonight would host a million opportunities for you to get him alone.

Hope blooms through your chest.

Do your worst, Miller.

—

“Man, I wish we could’ve experienced cocktails. Straight hooch is ass.”

A peer named Mel, just a year older than yourself, cringes as she sips on whatever murky liquor’s found its way into her cup.

You don’t mind the taste so much, having grown mostly immune to its taste and burn. In fact, you’d come to welcome the subsequent lapse in breath and judgement.

There was little else in this world that made you feel alive.

“Mhm,” you respond absent-mindedly, looking for a familiar scowl among the mass of scowls peppering the crowd.

A sigh to your right. “Always awesome, having your attention.”

The criticism snaps you back into your body. You smile sheepishly at your friend, apologizing through a wince.

She shrugs, her raggedy, pin-decorated jacket jingling with the movement. “S’okay. Known you long enough to know that look.”

For that, she receives a quizzical glance.

Mel comes back with a scoff. “No victims tonight?”

“Oh god,” you shoot her a look of disgust. “Do you mind not using such weird vocabulary? Make me sound like a predator.”

As the words tumble out, you zero in on the object of your search. There he is: eyebrows knit together in concentration, drink in hand, unsurprisingly (and annoyingly) in conversation with your father. A few other stragglers are in the mix, too, but they’re easily overlooked. Time slows to a full stop in his wake —only for the briefest of seconds —

“Well since the last guy actually wound up dead a week later, I think it’s fitting.”

Once again, Mel’s managed to wrangle your interest.

You stare blankly into her onyx eyes, ringlets falling through molasses around her face. “Jeremy?”

And she’s bewildered. “You didn’t hear?”

This time, both of your heads turn in the same direction.

“Ratted to FEDRA about the storehouse off tenth,” she explains, gesturing towards Miller and your father with a tilt of her head. Famous for her bravery, she stoops into your shoulder, averting his gaze and speaking under her breath, “Judging by the way they found him, my guess is it was mostly Miller’s stuff.”

It’s as if she’d screamed it.

The subject of your conversation turns to face you right as your company’s words drift off. Despite the level of noise, the amount of people, and the cloudiness of the air, you’re trapped in the corridor of your mutual stare, cornered.

The challenge, the knowing marking his expression.

“I need some air.”

You twist into the body standing behind you, shoving row after row of criminal scum out of the way. Mel doesn’t follow — she’d never hung around to comfort you, only to inform you. A mutual, typical relationship for the age, and just how things worked in the QZ.

You slam into the door, stomping into a deserted, silent alley, empty save for a few drunk strays. Your lips begin to tingle and a scream builds inside your lungs. Stalking blindly into the night, unsure of your direction, alone in half a top and a plain, ass-length skirt, shivering despite the warmth of the air…

You’re practically begging for trouble.

Just as your eyes catch the numbers on the old, rusted street sign above, just as you realize you’re on a monitored street tonight, only safe after curfew every other Monday and Wednesday, you’re grabbed by the waist, pulled into the space between two buildings, and shoved into a sheltered nook.

A dim, yellow light clicks on automatically. There’s a door (chained closed) leading into the building to your left and darkness to your right.

And there’s Joel Miller above you, his expression indeterminable.

“You asshole,” you barely hear yourself breathe over the sound of the blood rushing in your ears before lunging forward in a useless attempt to, once again, strike his profile.

He catches your wrist, no doubt having anticipated the attack. It’s written on your face, in your eyes, in your shallow, uneven inhalations. He takes your other hand before you’ve even thought to use it, lifting it above your head and slamming it against the old stucco behind you.

“You’re violent,” he says flatly.

He tightens his hold when you struggle against it. “Proud of yourself, yeah? You’re a killer.”

That inspires a slight smirk. You half expect him to return with an ‘as if you didn’t already know that.’

Instead, he says, “Sweetheart, you didn’t even know his name.”

“You should’ve told me.”

And that’s the real source of this anger: it’s rage at being the last to know.

And for what? To protect your feelings? Since when had anyone in your life bothered to do that?

“And don’t call me ‘sweetheart’,” you add for good measure.

You’d wanted him to touch you so badly for weeks now, but here, scorned at being left in the dark and confused at the death of a paramour, you only want to get free.

“And what’d he call you?” He spits, leaning down and in, inadvertently pressing his thigh between your legs — when his breath grazes the skin of your ear, it causes them to part (against your better judgement). “Got lots of names, right?” He continues to tease, “Heard your boyfriend’s pretty one for you before I shut him up — ‘that fuckin’ slut,’ f’I’m rememberin’ right.”

Despite your rage-shakes, you’re warming at the core, Joel’s pressure against it dizzying your already-addled head. It confuses you, makes the scorn easier to access.

“How did I come up, Miller?” You exhale, jutting your chin towards him. “Couldn’t help asking for all the dirty little details, could you?”

He smiles, and the act lacks any sort of kindness. “‘Lot easier gettin’ him alone once he thought he was meetin’ you.” Joel slams your wrist harder into the wall when you try to wriggle away. “Not sure you wanna keep making that kind of impression, angel.”

It’s hard to rationalize with him so close, as his pet-names echoe inside your head. He’d used your name to enact gang-law violence on a boy who’d been inside you, and yet, all you can think, all you can hear, is the way ‘sweetheart’ sounds tumbling off his lips.

“Fucking let me go, Miller,” you manage to exasperate, resenting the begging edge to every word. “I don’t need another abstinence lecture from you.”

Kicking one ankle off balance, Joel turns you around, pressing your stomach to the wall, your back into his chest. Ignoring your whines and pitiful struggle, he wraps a free hand around your neck, pushing your head against his collarbone. Your stomach erupts with butterflies as the rough pad of his thumb traces the front of your throat.

Yes — no — yes, he wants me — no, no, this is wrong, this is so wrong —

“‘Be wasted on you, anyways,” he says, rough and earnest, like his hand sliding down your chest, your breasts, your stomach, “Startin’ to realize if I can’t fix your dad’s mistakes…” and he’s finding the hem of your skirt and yanking it up, bunching the fabric around your hips —

“Might as well take advantage of them.”

He moves hungrily. He’s everywhere, sliding into your underwear and across your breasts, his big arms and suffocating biceps enveloping your entire frame.

“Joel—”

But he claps a hand over your mouth, silencing any hope of your pleas being effective.

“Think I haven’t seen you? Your lil’ looks…” a low laugh, “n’ those fuckin’ clothes?” God, the rumble, the sheer want in his voice hammers at your initial resistance, and you feel yourself welcoming the feel of his thick, long fingers, sliding between your wet folds. You’re clay, melting against the curved, firm wall of his chest.

You mewl pathetically into his palm.

Another low laugh wracks his lungs, dances at the top of your ear.

“Knew you’d be this wet for me.”

“Knew since you got down on your knees,” Joel continues, uncovering your mouth only to ease a few fingers between your lips — lips that part as though commanded, and a mouth that welcomes and caresses whatever it receives, “‘N opened this pretty lil’ mouth for me to fuck it. Can’t close my eyes without seein’ you like that — so fuckin’ needy.” He exhales from between his teeth, signalling his approval while you suck him down to the knuckles.

His fingers tease your clit and you give him your thanks by pleasuring those of his other hand.

When his hands move, it’s to hold you steady and balanced as he drags your underwear down your legs. That thick, heavy cloud of arousal hides any and all rational thoughts from view.

And he knows. He knows you’re past the point of no return, restraining you only out of his desire to rather than out of a real need to. He knows from the whine you breathe at the loss of his hand against your clit, moving to work at his belt buckle instead.

“Gonna use a condom?” You breathe, emboldened by your clearing senses at the temporary lack of stimulation.

At first, you think he’s missed your taunt.

He backs up, pulling your hips along with him until the tips of your fingers are no longer touching the decaying wall before you. Joel pulls you upright and against him with an arm around your waist and a hand around your throat, turning your head and tilting it back to meet your eyes.

You grasp onto his forearms, failing to stand, unable to breathe. His hardness digs into your back, and his cruel eyes show you just how much pleasure he takes in your struggle.

“Don’t like to waste ‘em,” he finally answers, rocking his cock against your spine, “But I will if you beg. You gonna beg?”

He manipulates your answer, fingers moving to your red-hot core — he barely grazes the nerves, only dancing over the needy flesh. You can’t tear your eyes from him either, tethered to your body through his gaze.

Joel Miller was a frustrating lover.

“N-no,” is your answer, slightly strangled and softly stuttered.

He smiles. “S’what I thought.” Then, “Show me what you can do, angel,” he coos, lips just inches away from yours, his hold on your body relaxing —

“Use your pretty lil’ hands n’ put my cock where you want it most.”

And you both know exactly where that is.

After a nod, Joel allows you to bend forward slowly — it’s like moving through honey. Your legs burn with effort as you reach between your legs to wrap a hand around his thick, hard length.

Christ, he’s huge.

He groans when you touch him and uses his own hand to help guide his tip between your folds. One hand holds your waist, fingers extended under your ribs to support your weight in a skilled show of experience.

With his tip at your aching entrance, you try to lean back, to slide yourself slowly down his many inches.

But Joel doesn’t allow it.

He pushes into you in one go, clicking his tongue at your strangled gasp —

The man hadn’t even bothered to open you up with his fingers.

“Ah, c’mon,” he condescends, “You can take it.”

Then he’s setting a hard pace, hands moving from your hips to your ribs to your biceps to your hair to your neck — anywhere he wanted to go, he went. One eventually comes to the front of your throat, tilting your eyes back and up towards the ceiling. Every one of his thrusts arches your back further until you’re contorting into a half-moon shape, standing only by the grace of his support.

And it feels so good. Joel fills you up to the brim, takes you to heaven and floods your ears with hymns, punishes you in the kind of way you’d only experienced in dreams.

Words tumble out, but they’re filled with nothingness. “Joel,” “fuck,” and “yesohgodyes,” quickly become staples of your vocabulary.

He laughs whenever you sob, grows harder every time you moan, restrains you when you try to run away.

The hand around your throat tightens, digging unforgivably into the flesh as you start to let go, as your walls begin to clench and flutter appreciatively around his cock.

“M’I making you happy, sweetheart? My cock making you smile?” He asks gruffly, pulling you back into his chest. Joel readjusts you into whatever shape you need to be in at the new angle, hips still slamming into your ass. Struggling to stand on your tiptoes, he steadies you with his arms and his hand on your jaw, forcing you to look up into his rugged face.

“Mmhm,” is all you can offer him, the pitch jumping up halfway through when the head of his cock grazes that perfect spot inside your cunt.

He doesn’t let up.

“Show me, baby—” he commands, out of breath, too, but not nearly as tortured as you, “—Show me your smile.”

You do your best, smiling up at him, degrading yourself even more at the hands of Joel-fucking-Miller. And he eats it up, loves the way your grin turns into a bitten lip and knit eyebrows over closed eyes, slowing his thrusts to rock even deeper inside you.

You moan something unintelligible, and a laugh rustles through your tangled hair.

“Am I makin’ you come?”

You nod, feeling that familiar rush of pressure blooming somewhere within that throbbing bundle of nerves under his spell.

He smirks in pride and victory, the last look you get before your head falls against his shoulder, your muscles going lax as the peak builds, as your half-sobs grow louder.

“S’it, baby, tell ‘em,” he coos, nipping and sucking the skin on the side of your throat. “Gonna tell the whole street how you take it like a good lil’ slut.”

His fingers fall to your clit, enticing you right over the edge. You vision blurs and your legs shake, but Joel talks you through your orgasm, sweet nothings starting with, “S’right — show me — yes, fuck — good girl…”

And then —

He stops.

You whine, stars dancing before your eyes as the mean, mean man inside you refuses to fuck you through your climax.

“Joel,” you plead, grinding back against him in a pathetic show of need, “Come with me.”

He does the opposite, sliding himself out of your sore opening. You turn to face him, restoring your balance with hands against his chest, gazing up at him in desire-stricken reproach.

“Use your mouth,” he says, voice gruff at your ruined sight and from his own hand on his cock, keeping his arousal level, “Not gettin’ any more help from me.”

It’s unclear whether ‘help’ means pills or his cock, but you assume both to be safe.

You try to argue (having spent the last few weeks dreaming of Joel dripping down your legs) but he just won’t budge.

Then, his voice softens.

“You know your dad’d kill me, angel.”

And it’s really the sweetness of his tone that does it.

Sinking to your knees, it’s déjà vu when you open wide for him, steadying your shaking knees with both hands on his half clothed, half naked hips. Gravel and debris dig painfully into your bare knees, but you ignore the sting, smiling instead at the taste of yourself on Joel’s cock, lips sliding adoringly down the thick length of it.

He groans his approval, tangling his fingers in your hair to help guide your movements.

As you take him in again and again and again, pleasing every inch of him, he chokes out a laugh.

“Never seen you so quiet,” he muses (mostly to himself), caressing your cheekbone with his free hand —

“Gagged by an old man’s cock.”

You pull off, pumping him with both hands, asking breathlessly, “Are you all so big?”

He smiles, eyes darkening at the dirty compliment. “Give you a few numbers n’ you can tell me.”

God, he’s beautiful from down here.

You hold his attention and lick a slow stripe down the underside of his cock, half-grinning up at his lust-filled expression.

“I only want yours, Joel Miller.”

An uneasy inhale as you take him back in, his brows furrowing and his cock growing impossibly harder. Your words please him, he returns by groaning orders and praises like: “S’all yours, baby — take it all — take aaall that dick — good fuckin’ girl.”

He’s so close and you know it, moaning in submission at his hand’s pressure against the back of your head. With your nose crunched into his abdomen, you hold your throat open for him to use it however he pleases — reduced to nothing more than the man’s plaything.

There’s a low “ah, fuck,” from above, and then you finally know what Joel Miller tastes like.

It’s better than the Plan B.

You hear nothing beyond his recovering breaths, feel nothing past pride, lust, and exhaustion.

Eventually, he loosens his grip. You pull off of him delicately, drawing a groan from between his gritted teeth when you make sure to suck every last drop of his seed into your mouth.

Sitting back on your ankles, you roll your head up to face him.

He swipes a thumb under your lips, clearing the saliva connecting you to his softening cock.

“Still mad at me?” He asks.

You’d be crazy to say yes.

“Only for pulling out.”

You note the twitch at the corner of his mustache.

Joel helps you back on your feet, using one hand to pull you up by your arm and another to arrange himself back to decency.

You adjust your shirt; Joel fixes your skirt. It’s a strange kind of silence settling inside this pocket at the side of a random, ruined building.

Then, your company clears his throat, that mask of seriousness falling over his expression once again.

“You gonna be smart?”

What ever could he mean?

Stay away from him? Stay away from men? Practice abstinence? Use protection?

Either way, you’re not one to make promises you know you can’t keep.

You cross your arms.

“No.”

He sighs.

Well, looks like things are already back to normal.

His face softens and he shakes his head, already regretting his next words. “Just — just come find me, then. I won’t do… this again, but — but I’ll help.”

You frown.

“What do you mean, ‘this’?”

He stares down into your accusatory eyes with a look you’d received many times from him, one screaming, “get real.”

“Fine,” you mutter, breaking eye-contact, “Thank you.”

With a stoic nod, he walks around you, heading back into the night. You try, in vain, to watch him go in silence — god knows you had some thinking to get to — and find that, instead of getting it out of your system, the entanglement had only left you wanting for more.

And more and more.

“Is this what you meant?” and you hear his footsteps halt, “When you told me you’d do worse than kill me? When I tried to hit you?”

It comes out before you can help it, and you twist around to face his still, broad shoulders.

You can hear the smile teasing his lips as he utters the words.

“Why are you askin’ me that?”

Still facing his back, you break into a smile of your own. “So I’ll know what I have to do to get you to do it again.”

You watch him shake his head, grey-streaked ripples in the low light.

“Try your best not to find out, angel.”

With that, he disappears into the darkness, leaving you in the flickering doorway. Thighs aching, heart racing, you take a deep breath, trying to memorize the feeling of what it felt to have them taken from you by Joel Miller.

A feeling you’d chase.

—

Put your red boots on

Baby, giddy up

Baby wants a dance

Baby gets her way

Dreamy nights

Talk to me with that whiskey breath

Twirl me twice

I'll treat you like a holiday

And don't say you're over me

When we both know that you ain't

Don't say you're over me

Baby, it's already too late

Just do what you do best with me

Dance me all around the room

Spin me like a ballerina, super high

Dance me all around the moon

Light me up like the 4th of July

Once, twice, three times

The guy I ever thought I would meet, so

Don't say you're over me

When we both know that you lie

If you lie down right next to me

Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie

If you lie down right next to me

Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie

When you lie down right next to me

Get your jacket on

Be a gentleman

Get into your truck

And pick me up at eight

'Cause we were built for

The long haul freight train

Burnt by fire

Without trial like a stowaway

And don't say you're over me

When they all know that you ain't

If you lay down right next to me

Dance me all around the room

Spin me like ballerina super high

Dance me all around the moon

Like six times 'til I'm sick and I cry

Once, twice, three times

The guy I ever thought I would meet, so

Don't say you're over me

When they all know that you're lying

If you lie down right next to me

Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie

Lie, you lie

If you lie down right next to me

Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie

Lie, you lie

When you lie down right next to me

—

TAGLIST (cont’d in reblogs): @millllenniawrites @inkedells @stardust-chords-enthusiast @mattmurdocksgirlfriend @liviloo12346 @anyas-stuff @readingsunshine97 @maudlinflowers @sullysflm @sexygaypalpatine @livyjh @s-unflowxr @lostsoldieronahill @chapterhappygirl @silkiers @jupitersmoon-cal @supernaturaldean67 @peqchsoup @corrodedcherries @hawsx3 @monboudoir @theonewithacrush @pono-pura-vida @fruitcupsworld @mads-grace4 @killerrxger @niallsbunny @snowyarcher @grnherbs @mswarriorbabe80 @tercabed @sweettea-and-honeybutter @bbyanarchist @thisgirl-knm @pedrit0-pascalit0 @redhotkitchen @isitselfishifwetalkaboutmeagain @pseudonymist @goldengrapejuice @soullumii @kamcrazy123 @wclverine

2K notes · View notes

sunglassesmish · 2 months

Note

Apparently Ce staff pay attention to requests in emails, and not to the reaction under posts on social media. So let's all write them an email asking them to give us a panel in June and other cons where Jared won't be.

Because this panel was a one time gig unfortunately and if we want more panels with our men, we need to show that they are in demand.

Email address: [email protected]

such a good idea, i hope they realise how much people enjoyed and this and want more, especially if we email them to let them know!!! 🤗

#anon #ask

39 notes · View notes

youcouldmakealife · 6 months

Text

SOTM: Bryce/Jared, Holden, Canucks; the bad place

For the prompt: What Bryce said to Holden in the box

Jan can’t say he ever considers being in the penalty box a good thing, but some times are worse than others. Typically, being sent to the box as a proxy for someone else is the best case scenario: he didn’t do anything wrong so his coach isn't pissed at him, and he might just get a breakaway on his way out the door if he’s lucky. There’s a reason they put Jan in if they have to pick a dude: he’s fast. If he gets behind the play, there’s a good scoring chance for him at minimum, and it isn’t like he’d be playing regardless, because they don’t use him on the PK. So what if he has to sit in a plexiglass box rather than on the bench? A seat's a seat.

This should be the best case scenario. But Jan is not having a good time right now. Neither is the penalty box attendant, he imagines. Jan thinks anyone except maybe Math would prefer not to be anywhere near Bullet at the moment, literally shaking with anger beside him. Jan can feel the vibration through his knee, before Bullet’s twisting around, knee knocking Jan's, and yelling, “You’re a fucking dead man!”, temporarily deafening Jan in the bargain.

He accidentally meets the eye of the penalty box attendant, who gives him a commiserating look. Jan’s sure he’s heard worse, but he also suspects Bullet isn’t going to restrict himself to that, and unfortunately he is right.

He didn’t hear what Chase said to Bullet, and he doesn’t want to ask — he thinks it’d only make Bullet angrier, and frankly Jan doesn’t think he needs any help — but whatever it is, he crossed a line, and Bullet is letting him hear it. And hear it. And hear it.

“There are children right behind you!” Chase yells, when Bullet finally stops long enough to take a breath.

Jan didn’t peg Chase as a ‘think of the children’ type even before he goaded Bullet into the box by saying presumably shitty things about his husband, and judging by his smirk when Bullet quiets, he thinks his instinct is correct. Jan also doesn’t think any parent who bought tickets directly behind the penalty box has the right to be particularly offended by any violence or profanity their children may hear. He’s fairly sure, in fact, that many who pick a seat near the box do it hoping for this exact occurrence.

Jan would tell Bullet all this, but he thinks he and the attendant deserve the temporary break.

Jan doesn’t know if Bullet comes to the same conclusion as he did, or if he simply can’t restrain himself — it’s a toss up, considering he’s still shaking with fury, the air practically vibrating with it, his knee actually vibrating against Jan’s.

Jan looks up at the clock, sighing when he sees a full minute remaining. They always seem to go to commercial after a penalty. He knows it’s just because it’s a stoppage in play, but he thinks they should have some sympathy for the players serving the penalty. But considering it’s a punishment, he supposes they don’t.

Jan didn’t even do anything wrong.

“—and learn to play defence, you fucking pig fucker!”

“Pig fucker,” Jan says faintly.

“I don’t know where that came from,” Bryce admits, then yells, “Never mind that last part, but I stand by the rest! You suck at D! The hockey kind, not the — you fucking suck, Chase!”

“Pig fucker,” Jan repeats.

“I took it back!” Bryce says. “What do you want me to do, here?”

Jan just shakes his head. “You suck at D too,” he murmurs.

“I’m getting better at it!” Bryce says.

“I don’t have to tell you not to go after him again, right?” Gabe asks.

Bullet’s mulish face says that isn’t a correct prediction, and Gabe internally sighs. Besides holding the obvious position of not wanting one of their top scorers in the box for extended stretches, Gabe doesn’t like the idea of Bullet going back and forth with a dude so soon after getting off the IR, especially twice. And he really doesn’t like the idea of how cranky Jared will get if Bryce gets injured. When Jared’s in a bad mood, he emanates displeasure until everyone around him is too.

“Can you let the refs do their jobs?” Gabe asks, without much hope, and Bryce’s face gets…Gabe is pretty sure ‘mulish-er’ is not a word, but it’s still the best way he can describe it. Stubborn doesn’t do it justice — there’s too much simmering anger in it for that. Apparently beating the dude up and then calling him a pig fucker didn’t get the rage out of his system.

“Jan doesn’t have to tell everybody about that,” Bryce complains.

“Not condemning it,” Gabe says. “Just impressed with your creativity.”

“I ran out of stuff,” Bryce says. “And repeating myself seemed, you know.”

“Pedestrian?” Gabe asks, and Jared, beside him, snorts. He’s ‘not talking’ to Bryce right now, but he’s practically sitting in Gabe’s lap, he’s eavesdropping on their conversation so hard, so Gabe doesn’t even think Bryce is buying the act.

Bryce looks confused as well as mulish now, probably wondering what the hell walking has to do with anything. Dima raises his eyebrows and gives Gabe a thumbs up behind Bullet’s back. He wasn’t actually trying to distract him, but Bryce is quiet for the moment, and he doesn’t try to rip Chase’s head off, the next shift they’re on together — possibly because they only overlap briefly, but Gabe decides to be optimistic.

Nobody needs to take matters into their own hands: the refs seem as done with Chase’s shit as Gabe is. Canucks fans are too — a decidedly mocking cheer goes up when Chase goes to the box for the third time tonight. Gabe knows Stephen was planning on watching this one, and he bets he’s sitting on the couch laughing his ass off right now.

Gabe does not laugh, because he knows there’s a chance it’d twist into some ‘poor sportsmanship by Canucks as refs unfairly target Holden Chase’. Doubly so when homophobes are trying to find any chance to hate on Bryce and Jared without giving themselves away.

It’s difficult, though. Even more difficult after Gabe looks across the ice, where Chase appears to be arguing with the penalty box attendant, because of course he is, and he hides his face in Dima’s shoulder for a moment, so the cameras won’t catch his grin.

#fic snippet #SOTM #bryce marcus #jared matheson #holden chase #gabe markson

87 notes · View notes

sethsclearwater · 1 year

Text

request: could I request an imagine with either embry or paul with an imprint who clings to them when they’re scared or during movies?

warnings: none really

notes: shorter than usual, ends kinda abruptly, but fluffy nonetheless

word count: 1.2k

…

you absolutely despised horror movies. and, unfortunately for you, the entire pack (including your boyfriend) absolutely loved them. almost every friday they had a movie night at emily’s house where they’d watch the best horror movies they could find and you usually managed to get out of it but embry had talked you into it, promising he’d be right by you the whole time.

so you (very reluctantly) agreed and found yourself seated at one of the barstools at emily’s kitchen island, talking with her and kim while you waited for the boys to get back from their pre-movie snack trip to target.

kim was attempting to hype herself up for the movie, bouncing around the kitchen as she tried to get into “the zone” so she could watch the movie without freaking out like she apparently did last weekend. you and emily were laughing at her antics as you continued (attempting) to make plans for your girls day out tomorrow.

“so you’re thinking we leave for port angeles around 10 tomorrow?” emily asked you and you hummed in agreement, nodding.

“yea then we can get there early enough to go to all the shops,” you started, kim quickly butting in and cutting you off, eliciting laughs from you and emily.

“we gotta leave by 9:45 then so we can stop at starbies on the way there!” she exclaimed as the boys came in through the front door, almost making as much noise as kim.

you nodded in agreement, spinning around on the barstool to face your boyfriend, smiling as he cupped your face in his hands and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, “everything okay?” he asked, thumb rubbing gentle circles against your cheekbones as he waited for your response.

“mhm,” you hummed, “just figuring out what time we’re leaving tomorrow.” you explained, running your hands up the soft fabric of his t-shirt.

embry nodded, “you sure you don’t want one of us with you guys tomorrow?” he asked softly and you knew he was only asking because he hated the idea of leaving you alone for any extended period of time, especially with another rogue vampire out and about in the area.

“positive.” you cooed, tightening your fingers on the fabric of his t-shirt to pull him down for another kiss.

embry sighed softly against your lips, pulling away after a moment as the rest of the boys started spilling all the different candies and popcorn out onto the kitchen island. you pecked embry’s lips one more time before spinning around on the barstool to face the island, embry’s hands coming to rest on your shoulders so he could gently rub them.

you leaned back against him, laughing as paul and jared got into a bickering match over who was more deserving of the M&Ms (jared was quickly losing). everyone quickly agreed the best idea would be to just empty all the candy into a big bowl to pass around so you helped with that before heading into the living room with embry.

he sat down on the couch, taking your hands and tugging you into his lap, both of you laughing as he pulled a blanket over the both of you and allowed you to curl into his chest, gently stroking his fingers through your hair as everyone else got settled around you.

“you know you can let me know if it’s too scary and we can go upstairs or something, okay?” embry reminded, his hand sliding up and down your arm soothingly.

you nodded, peeking up at him and pressing a kiss to his cheek, “i know.”

he smiled softly at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before allowing you to cuddle into his lap as sam started the movie. everyone quickly quieted down and embry rubbed gentle circles on your hip to soothe your anxiety as the movie started.

the first 20 minutes or so were great, no jump scares or anything gory. it wasn’t until the protagonist went into the basement that you knew it was about to get scary. your breathing hitched as the lights in the character’s basement went out, embry’s grip tightening on you as he recognized your anxiety.

out of nowhere, some awful-looking spider-human type thing jumped out causing you to scream, burying your face into the crook of embry’s neck and wrapped your arms around his neck. paul and jared burst into laughter at your reaction but quickly had to deal with rachel and kim who also appeared to be just as freaked out as you by the whole thing.

“shhhhh…” embry cooed, laughing softly as he held you close to him, rubbing his hand up and down your back gently, “you’re okay.” he cooed again and you shook your head, whining as you shifted so you could wrap your legs around his waist and effectively turn yourself away from the tv.

“is it over yet?” you mumbled into the fabric of his t-shirt, and he let out a soft chuckle, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“just about.” he reassured, rubbing his hand up and down your back soothingly as you waited for the scene to end. soon enough, the scene ended and you slowly unwrapped yourself from your boyfriend, hesitantly looking over at the screen to see what was happening.

the characters were trying to figure out what went down the night before and you allowed yourself to exhale, knowing there wouldn’t be another jump scare for at least another few minutes.

embry continued soothingly rubbing his hand up and down your side as you waited for the next jump scare. soon enough, it was clear another was coming so you shifted to hide yourself in the crook of embry’s arm so you wouldn’t have to watch.

it wasn’t until you heard an absurdly loud scream from jared and paul, followed by the sound of about 10,000 pieces of candy hitting the floor that you realized just what a good idea you had not watching whatever just popped up on the tv.

“for fuck’s sake!” paul yelled, everyone laughing at jared as you looked up to see jared struggling to catch his breath and kim and emily staring at the pile of candy now spilled all over the floor.

“what the fuck even was that?” jared laughed, letting out a loud sigh as he leaned back into the couch, looking up at the ceiling as he sucked in gulps of air.

embry chuckled, turning his attention to you, “you’re lucky you didn’t see that,” he teased, “that felt like something out of a fever dream or something.”

you giggled, looking over at sam who was rolling his eyes and pressing pause on the movie, “alright you idiots, clean it up.”

jared and paul’s jaws dropped at the thought, kim laughing as she got up and headed into the kitchen with emily, “we’re grabbing a broom. better get started boys!” emily called over her shoulder.

you looked up at embry again, both of you letting out laughs at how stupid the whole situation was, “well, at least you don’t have to watch the whole thing now.” embry noted, letting out another laugh as you nodded, clearly over the moon that this whole stupid thing was finally over.

“thank god,” you groaned, letting out another exhale as you leaned into his chest, both of you laughing as you watched the rest of the pack help jared and paul clean up their mess.

180 notes · View notes

detailtilted · 4 months

Text

Index of Enhanced Edition Con Videos

I'll maintain this index in a pinned post for easy reference. Click the links to go to the YouTube videos, or click here for a more readable Google Docs table which includes these links plus a tab noting which events I skipped, temporarily or permanently, and why.

2007-11-11, Chicago - J2 Breakfast (00:23:42)

2007-11-11, Chicago - Jensen Solo (00:21:55)

2007-11-11, Chicago - Jared Solo (00:29:44)

2007-11-11, Chicago - J2 Main (00:38:24)

2008-07-27, San Diego Comic Con - SPN Panel (00:50:52)

2008-11-16, Chicago - J2 Breakfast (00:26:16)

2008-11-16, Chicago - Jared Solo (00:26:20)

2008-11-16, Chicago - J2 Panel (00:35:04)

The last panel from CHICON 2008, Jensen's solo panel, is up next.

Thank you to everyone who has shown an interest in these videos. The reblogs and likes all made me very happy, and I especially appreciated the kind comments some of you left in your reblog text and tags. I'm unsure of the proper Tumblr way to respond directly to that in a way that won't annoy people, but I've definitely noticed and appreciated it!

An explanation of this project and my tentative plans for it are listed below the break. A lot of it will be familiar if you've read my earlier posts, but it's more detailed -- and excessively long! There's also some info on how you can help, especially if you have any old videos or audio files that you'd be willing to contribute.

Why Do You Call These "Enhanced Editions"?

The videos I'm using are not my own, but I've spent many hours adding enhancements to them. Credit and links to the original videos are in the video descriptions. These are the typical enhancements you'll see:

I'm upscaling the videos as best I can. It isn't remotely perfect, but it's a little more watchable than the originals. I'm not experienced with this and the videos I'm working with are very low quality by today's standards. They were also recorded under difficult circumstances. Video taking wasn't permitted at most of the earlier cons, so the people who took them did so at the risk of getting kicked out. They couldn't exactly come waltzing in with a tripod, so the videos are shaky, they don't always have a clear view of the stage, and sometimes they cut off at unfortunate moments. They can be frustrating to watch, but we owe these people a debt of gratitude for capturing this footage because otherwise it would have been lost altogether.

The original videos are usually in multiple parts, but I'm editing them together into a single video as cohesively as possible. I may use videos from multiple sources to provide the most complete video possible, and I'll select the ones with the highest video quality available. Sometimes there just aren't a lot out there, though.

I'm adding extra content to help clarify references people make during the panels. The videos I've worked with so far don't take up the full width of a modern video frame, so I've taken advantage of that extra space to display the extra content to the side where it's less obtrusive. There are explanations for obscure references that are way funnier when you understand what they mean, plus episode references to help jog the memory for those of us who haven't rewatched the show a million times. In rare cases where I think it will enhance understanding, I'll insert brief episode clips that highlight what they're talking about.

I'm putting a LOT of time into adding good, color-coded English subtitles that can be turned on and off with YouTube's CC button. These videos can be frustrating to understand because the audience often drowns them out and Jared and Jensen tend to talk at the same time when they're together. I can't always figure everything out, but it's far better than the crazy, auto-generated nonsense that many videos have. The color-coding helps with telling who's saying what: red for Jared, blue for Jensen, green for the general audience, yellow for the current fan at the microphone, and white for other people such as staff.

If there's missing footage that I can't find anywhere, then if I can find a source that seems to have reliable details about what was discussed, I'll add still images with a brief summary and a link to my source in the video description.

What Conventions Do You Plan to Enhance?

I don't want to make grand promises that I'll enhance videos for every old convention, although I definitely love the idea of doing so. How far I go with this will depend on how much sustained interest there is from other people and how much spare time I have myself. My output speed will probably be erratic depending on what's going on in my life at the time.

My general plan was to start with the oldest conventions and work my way forward. For now, I only plan to enhance the panels with Jared and/or Jensen since they're my main interest. I may temporarily skip over conventions that they didn't both attend, but with the intent to go back and fill those in later.

One big constraint will be whether I can find enough videos to work with for a convention, and just how bad the quality is. I've found that some videos are too poor of a quality to upscale, at least with my limited skill. Since these videos are painful to watch in their raw form, I suspect people will be less interested in watching "enhanced" videos that don't include at least some noticeable improvement in visual quality, but please do let me know if I'm wrong. For that reason, I'll probably skip past cons if I can't upscale the videos, at least for now.

As I work through the old conventions, I'll make a good attempt to upscale the available videos. If I don't have much success, then I'll skip over that convention with the hope that someday either the technology or my skills will improve, or maybe a more skilled fan will be able to accomplish more with it. If I make it through all the low-hanging fruit, I might come back to those problematic conventions and just create a cohesive edit with special content and subtitles even if I can't substantially improve the video quality.

These are just my general thoughts right now but the project is young, so my strategy may change.

Can I Help?

If you have any old convention videos or audio files that you're willing to contribute, please message me! For now, let's limit it to content from 2010 or older. Maybe I can use them, maybe I can't, but the more I have to work with, the better chance I have of creating something more complete. If I do use your material, I'll credit you in whatever manner you prefer.

Even if your videos are on YouTube, I've found that the original files may upscale much better than videos pulled off YouTube. I think the videos were degraded when they were uploaded to YouTube, at least back then. If you send me videos that I'm able to upscale, I'll happily send the upscaled versions back to you for your collection regardless of whether or not I use them. (If you have any videos you don't want me to use for this project, let me know and I'll respect your wishes.)

Even if your video looks terrible, you might just have a missing piece of footage that I couldn't find anywhere else, or your video might upscale more easily than another. If nothing else, I might be able to hear something in the audio that will help me fill in a subtitle I couldn't figure out.

Likewise, audio files can be helpful even without video. If nothing else, they may help me fill in some subtitles. If the audio file is consistently easier to understand than the audio on the videos I'm using, I can also substitute the audio from your file in place of the video's audio. If you have audio of sections of the panels for which no known videos exist, that could also help me fill in those gaps.

If you're watching my enhanced videos with the subtitles turned on, please do let me know if you catch any errors or if you can clearly understand something I marked as [inaudible]. I can't change the videos themselves on YouTube, not without breaking the links and causing confusion, but it's pretty easy to update the subtitles because they're a separate file. It's important to me to try not to put words in their mouths that they might not have said, so I'm trying not to guess based on context. However, there were times when I felt like I should have been able to understand what they said but I just couldn't manage it, and I'm sure someone with different ears may be able to figure out some of the parts I couldn't.

#enhanced edition con video #j2 #jared padalecki #jensen ackles #sam winchester #dean winchester #supernatural #index

49 notes · View notes

sailorsally · 5 months

Note

Hi! Can you explain the part where cockles lived together when they were shooting spn? Where does that come from? I thought it was just an old rumor but apparently it's real????

Hi anon! Im unfortunately the worst person to ask for any evidence for anything because I have ADHD and am in stage of constant memory fog but I'll try my best here!

I think the first time I heard about Cockles living together it was in a post by @livebloggingmydecentintomadness. I tried looking for the post but couldn't find it (hi tumblr fix your search!!) but it was basically talking about how some fans got their hand on a utility bill in both Jensen & Misha's name for a Vancouver apartment. I don't know if there were ever photos of the said bill, I know people tried not to have it circulate too much, I assume bc that would have doxxed them both. This was around 2017-2018 I think?

I also believe that during one of the panels during that time period Misha said Vicky helped him recently move in with a "model friend" and well, we all know who his model friend is.

I think it was after Misha's poetry book was released in 2021 that it became evident the split between Misha & Vicky had happened a while ago and around the time Vicky helped him move in with a friend.

This all happened before my time aka 2020. What I personally was here for was the blankygate of 2021 when Misha sent out this text:

Which kind of solidified everyone's belief that Misha and Jensen lived together before pandemic.

For me personally there are other things that support this. Things like Misha saying Jensen is neat. You would never say something like this about someone you have not shared your personal space with! Or that Misha would pick Jensen (out of him and Jared) because Jensen is handy around the house and likes to fix things! Oh and sharing clothes of course!

I think this is all I've got for ya, anon. Here's a handy run doen what these two were up to during the period they lived together. I'm sure I'm missed some stuff, so people are very welcome to add to this.

Of course none of this is 100% proof of anything, especially not the romantic nature of their relationship. And nothing ever could be unless they state that yes they shared an apartment or yes they were/are together. Generally looking for "proof" in things like this is unrealistic, and makes me feel a bit uneasy (who am I? homophobic police??) and takes way from the real fun of rpf which is speculation.

#Cockles #They were roommates #Ask sally #Jenmish

23 notes · View notes

breaniebree · 11 months

Text

Writing Fanfiction in the HP Fandom

Hello All!

This is not something I usually do (i.e. post anything outside of fanfic updates), but I wanted to write a little something about Fandom.

I recently finished reading a book called "Family Don't End With Blood" which was a wonderful collection of essays about people who came together over a love of Supernatural. It included personal moments about the fandom from some of the cast, some of the fans, and some of the people involved in charities or organizations that have stemmed out of the television show and I found it absolutely inspiring! I even teared up a bit (especially reading Jared's chapter). You can find my review on my personal bookstagram brie_reads if you're interested in learning more.

But, I decided that I wanted to just reach out and say something about the idea of fandom and what it means to me because this collection of essays truly inspired me.

I started reading Harry Potter in September of 1999. I was (not to age myself here) 12 years old and my stepmom bought the first three books for my younger brother in an effort to get him more interested in reading. It worked, but I also devoured the books alongside of my brother. I couldn't wait for The Goblet of Fire to come out and fell immediately in love with the characters of Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley, and Ron Weasley. There were of course other characters I loved, but those ones just meant something to me. I still don't think I can fully explain what it was that first drew them to me, but I was hooked. I began writing fanfiction in 2004/2005, but never really got into publishing my work until almost 2006 after reading Half-Blood Prince and being furious at Harry for breaking up with Ginny (the noble git).

By writing Harry Potter fanfiction, I became involved in a fandom community and it was something I'd never really ventured into before. Sure, I had a chat group about Buffy lovers on ICQ and AOL, but a true fandom was something different. By loving Harry Potter and sharing my love for the stories (and my own fanfic stories) I've made incredible friends. One of my oldest online friends I met through communication boards on Sink Into Your Eyes that delved into email sharing, instant messaging, and more. I've made friends of all ages, some older than me, some younger, and from all over the world.

I've exchanged story ideas with people, discussed possible scenario changes, and laughed and cried over things we loved from the books themselves to other amazing fanfics. I've made some incredible friends and I've unfortunately lost some incredible friends along the way as well -- people who cut me out of their lives due to disagreements or miscommunication -- and I've gained new friends in people who not only love what I write, but actually care what I have to say about funny and pointless things like how I think Harry would react in ridiculous situations.

I joined Harry Potter facebook groups (way back for us oldies when you had to have a university or college id to even have facebook) and followed Harry Potter fandoms on Twitter. I joined Tumblr (and have recently gotten over 1300 followers which is mind blowing to me so thank you) to share in my love of the fandom and have seen the most incredible artwork, read the most beautiful stories and poems, and seen things that make me wonder if we read the same books at all LOL.

But the pure joy of being in a fandom of people who love the same things is unlike anything I've ever experienced anywhere else. Now, as a woman in my mid-30s, I look back and think of how much it has impacted my life. It's opened my creativity. It's helped me grow into myself as a person and accept who I am. It's watched me grow up. The Harry Potter fandom has become something I love even more than the original novels that drew me in.

Like everything, there are toxic parts as well. People who are toxic in their views, in their comments, and in their reviews. People who get close to you, only to break you down. But there are also amazing people who fight back against those toxic vibes and remind all of us why we love the Harry Potter fandom. It's the Harry Potter fandom that made me branch out into liking other fandoms, to show off my inner nerd, and most of all, to come to the realization that even if I don't know your real name and even if we've never met, it doesn't mean we can't bond over a shared interest.

You are appreciated.

You are respected.

You are valid.

You are loved.

That to me is what a Fandom represents.

Be positive. Keep smiling. And most of all, know that this fandom means you are not alone.

Share the love. Thank a creator. Tag a friend who you met because of the fandom and appreciate.

Thank you.

Breanie aka Bree

#breanie #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #writers and fans #fandom culture

50 notes · View notes

littlebeelife · 8 months

Text

Daily J2 Breakdown

Day 46

Tom Welling to Jared and Jensen: "You guys, the show is you guys together.”

Smallville @ 20: Tom Welling Opens Up About Nixed Season 1 Suit-Up, Batman Ban and Our 'Best CW Show' Tourney

By Matt Webb Mitovich / October 17 2021, 7:30 AM PDT

As Smallville marks a full 20 years since its premiere, Tom Welling says that he now is in a “much happier” place when it comes to his relationship with the superhero origin series.

Having struggled back in the day with his responsibility as the lead of the popular WB-turned-CW series (and the demands put on him), “As time goes on, I am enjoying Smallville more,” Welling shared in a new TVLine Q&A pegged to this Tuesday’s release of Smallville: The Complete Series on Blu-ray for the first time ever. “I wish I could go back [to my 2001 self] and just say, ‘Take a beat, and appreciate this.'”

In the interview below, Welling also revisits the not-so-super limitations Smallville contended with at the time, reflects on how the series set an example for the eventual Arrowverse, and he has a thing or two to say about how TVLine’s “Best CW Show Ever” tournament played out.

TVLINE | I don’t know if you’ve heard, but TVLine recently conducted a bracket tournament to determine “The Best CW Show Ever”….

I didn’t get the invite.

TVLINE | Readers chose 32 shows to send into a bracket tournament, and Smallville beat One Tree Hill to get into the Final Four—

Thank God.

TVLINE | In the Final Four, Supernatural beat Arrow, and Smallville beat Vampire Diaries.

F–k yeah.

TVLINE | The final was then Supernatural against Smallville. There was lots of drama, lots of voting, and…. Supernatural won, 77 percent to 23 percent.

Yeah, I can kind of…. Unfortunately, I can kind of see that. Is it because it lasted longer?

TVLINE | Could be. You guys had a good run, though — 10 years versus 15.

Yeah. I mean, we were more watchable. [Laughs] No, I love those guys, they’re buddies of mine. I like the way that [tournament] trickled down, though. It made a lot of sense. Especially with, like, [Smallville against] One Tree Hill and Vampire Diaries? Like, come on.

TVLINE | When Supernatural rolled around, did you get a sense that it was going to have some legs?

You know what, I did — probably more than I did about Smallville, to be honest. Because with Smallville, I was in it. I was trying to tread water every minute, every day, trying to keep it going. Nobody tells you that you’re going to be successful, even when you are successful. No one tells you that you’re going to be there for a long period of time, but knowing Jared [Padalecki] and Jensen [Ackles] and then watching Supernatural, from the outset I could see where the two of them made that show. And there was a point in that show where they started separating, and I was like, “You guys, the show is you guys together.” Like, that’s what it is.

It was obviously a different show than Smallville, but you’re right, when I saw Supernatural, I was like, this show’s going to work. I could never look at Smallville that way, only because maybe I didn’t want to let myself feel that way, perhaps. I didn’t want to, like, get comfortable.

The whole interview can be found here.

#DailyJ2Breakdown #j2 tinhat #j2 #jared and jensen

50 notes · View notes

hologramcowboy · 5 months

Note

What do you even love about Jensen?

Anon, I realize you are trolling and me responding is pointless but...here are a few of the reasons I love Jensen:

I love that when he smiles genuinely he lights up like an angel. (Unfortunately his genuine smiles have become very rare)

I love his angel-like voice (not the fake macho one he uses, I am referring to his original voice, it is perfect for storytelling.

I love that he can be a powerful and inspiring storyteller when he chooses to deeply connect to his characters.

I love his iconic presence.

I love how he can vibe full of grace or lost in darkness with so many layers of mystery. I love how dynamic he can be at times in his acting choices.

I love that he looks just like the archetype I used to imagine growing up. Seriously, it's like someone drew him after reading my mind.

I love his eyes endlessly because they contain a universe of light and dark and all that's in-between.

I love that he can be a leader when he chooses to do the right thing and he can inspire many.

I love that he only expresses appreciation when he is truly floored with it. (in my experience)

I love that he is confident in a healthy way at times and that allows him to play others up.

I love the innocence his gaze sometimes has, I could get lost in that forever. (Goes back to the archetype I grew up imagining)

I love his talent, when he connects deeply he is just so wonderful to enjoy.

I love that he is this perfect balance of perfect and flawed look wise so much so that is beauty is almost otherwordly.

I love the immensity I see in him (sorry wish I could explain this in words but it's so powerful it just spontaneously brings me to tears and I can't even explain why).

I love when he uses his influence to help others.

I love his singing when he decides to sing on key. I love his humor when he gets lighthearted and tries to bring everyone joy.

I love all the ways in which he adores and supports Jared.(Just as much as I dislike when he does the opposite)

I love that he sometimes looks like a fallen angel with a chip on his shoulders.

I love the pain he hides because it breaks my heart and is endlessly beautiful at the same time.

I love it when he genuinely gets goofy and lighthearted.

I love that he can take my breath away (those who know me know how hard that is to do) Most of all, I love the love and joy he inspires and I hope he'll give himself a chance to grow and impact even more people.

I love that my heart explodes with appreciation and joy whenever I get to see him act. So much so I get teary eyed before I even know what's happening.

I love that he can make me smile, make love everything and everyone especially during most painful times in my life. He saved my life in his own way and I will always love him for that. Pretty sure God put him in my path to uplift me. 💕

There is much more but that's all private and I can't really put it into words anyway.

I know you were most likely trolling but thank you for giving me an opportunity to recall and focus that energy.

#jensen appreciation #Jensen Ackles

9 notes · View notes

nuttytani · 4 months

Text

Farewell, My Dear Boomer Lord

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Pairing: Tartaglia | Childe x Zhongli and Xiao x Aether

Premise: Genshin Impact is back with a new addition to their movie franchise, with a talented and an exciting cast. What are you waiting for? Come find out who they are!

A/N: This is a social media au fic, except in text form... Just crossposting it from my ao3 (which you can read it here if you'd like!!)

next chapter

Ch. 1 Breaking news! Farewell Archaic Lord to be released!!!

Genshin ✓ . @ genshinimpact

Who’s ready for the upcoming Liyue Arc? Get ready for the premiere of the movie, Farewell Archaic Lord on the 20th of January! Stay tuned to meet new characters.

[ Attached : A movie poster with the Traveler wearing a white and yellow hanfu. Behind him are 2 looming figures in the back. One with bright ginger hair and the other a brunet. ]

| emily . @ meetemaaaa

Oh my god

| Jared . @ uuu2345

OMG

| Lemons . @ lifegivesyoulemons

Omg omg omg-

| HELLCAT . @ timmiespigeons

IT’S OUTTTTTTTTTTTTTT HOLY SHIT!!!!!!!!!!

| Trailblazer . @ stelleeeeeee

DHIUHDIUEWHDIUHDEW GUYS GUYS GUYS, THE LIYUE ARC IS COMING OUT SOON OMG

| xingqi . @ notanpc

Those dudes at THE BACK MARRY MEEEEEEEEEEE YAYAYAYAYAAY

| Charlotte . @ therealcharlotte

FUUUUUUCK STEP ON ME DADDY- ESPECIALLY THE DUDE WITH THOSE GOLDEN EYES OMG HE LOOKS HOT DILF

Show replies

—

Paimon ✓ . @ paimonispaimon

Welcome, newcomers to the Genshin Impact fandom! Wondering what in tarnation this new Liyue Arc is? When and where can you watch this movie? Are there any previous parts? Well, look no further as I, Paimon, shall tell you everything that you need to know.

Genshin Impact is a fantasy movie series that follows the journey of its main protagonist, beginning with the first part titled "The Outlander Who Caught the Wind" (Mondstadt Arc for short) and now includes a follow up story called “Farewell Archaic Lord” (Liyue arc for short).

Traveler, who is the main protagonist, is thrown into a foreign universe and sets out to find his lost twin sister. As the story progresses, the traveler finds himself wrapped up in the troubles of each nation that he sets foot on (Quite the sorry fellow, don’t you think? He just wants to find his sister…). Each movie is and will be based on the nations that the traveler has been to and the nefarious plotting of villains. The storyline centres on the nations visited by the Traveler and the people that he meets along the way. I won't reveal any spoilers, so that's all I'll say for now.

Unfortunately, as of this post, the Liyue arc has not yet been released — but in the meantime, why not have a look at the first movie? It is currently available on official streaming sites such as Hoyoflix, Adventurer+, Simulation World Prime Video and many more! And aren’t you the luckiest people, the Mondstadt arc is actually being played in the cinemas for next two weeks! Go grab your tickets now~

| Trailblazer . @ Stelleeeeeee

Ummmm you’ve literally mentioned nothing about the Liyue arc tho- “imma tell you all the things that you need to know” pffft

| Caribert . @ dontlookinthemirror

replying to @ Stelleeeeeee

OP doesn’t want to spoil the story for the newcomers, read properly before commenting smh. Plus, the movie isn’t even out yet??? What the hell is OP going to talk about??? Go touch some grass

| Pompom ✓ . @ conductorpompom

Replying to @ dontlookinthemirror

The previous commenter is only joking, calm down

Show replies

—

Genshin ✓ . @ genshinimpact

First teaser out for “Farewell Archaic Lord!”

[ Attached : Link for the teaser, thumbnail depicts a ginger man with long hair, wearing a beautiful black and red hanfu. He is holding blades made of translucent, water-like daggers. ]

—

Katherine ✓ . @ yourfavrobot

TEASER FOR THE LIYUE ARC IS OUT, LET’S BREAK IT DOWN, FELLOW COMRADES! (for those who can’t watch the video, don't worry, I got your back.)

First off, we see the traveler setting foot in Liyue and he wanders around. The locals are all flocking to the central area, some kind of a big incense is placed down and we see a few prominent figures surrounding it and bringing offerings. No names yet for the figures, but we have learned that one of them is referred to as the Tianquan (a lady with silver hair, wearing luxurious golden and phoenix patterned hanfu).

Scene cuts to ocean waves roaring down the wharf of Liyue like crazy (tsunami level crazy) while a man with weirdly glinting golden eyes, clad in dark brown and gold robes, sits on a dainty little seat and drinks his tea, amidst all the chaos. Mister - idk but why are you drinking tea in the middle of a natural disaster??? Questions, so many questions...

Scene cuts again, to a young man with ginger hair, wearing black and red hanfu (super pretty guy btw just who is the actor???). He swiftly moves around to give us a cheeky smile, teeth and all, and summons.. WATER BLADES! HE SUMMONS WATER BLADES! How is that even possible?! (movie logic ofc).

All in all, I’m left with even more questions. The golden-eyed man seems suspicious - and so does the man with the ginger hair. Both dangerously pretty btw.

| capybara. @ capybararara

This is definitely a teaser alright. Who are these actors? I need to know. Just look at them. I mean Mondstadt also had super pretty people like that cavalry captain with the eyepatch but BUT OOOOOOOH I SEE SO MANY MOMMIES HERE I LOVE I LOVE.

| Otto . @ imnotluocha

Liyue basically feels like some xianxia au lol, not that I’m complaining. Look at all those impractical fanservice hanfu. That dude with ginger hair looks impeccable, also, why does he give off dangerous vibes?? Please don’t be a villain

| Qingque . @ slackingoff

replying to @ imnotluocha

Yes villain. I’m all for sexy villains here.

| Kusogaki . @ i_am_god

Why is no one talking about the strange brunet? He could also be a villain, I mean look at those eyes. It doesn’t feel normal. Plus HE WAS DRINKING TEA IN A MIDDLE OF TSUNAMI. I don’t know if he is dumb or fears no one, not even nature.

| Trailblazer . @ Stelleeeeeee

YESSSSS TRAVELER IS WEARING HANFU TOO OMG OMG. I MEAN IT’S ALSO ON THE POSTER BUT HURRAHHHH HOT TRAVELER LESGOOOOOO AND OMG WHO IS THAT PRETTY LADY WITH BABY BLUE HAIR, OMG THAT SKIN TIGHT BLACK SUIT? Hoyo going wildddddd and all out ay? I’m all for it.

Show replies

—

Paimon ✓ . @ paimonispaimon

Hello once again, my fellow friends! The major casting of the Liyue arc has been revealed, so let’s get down to business!

It is already confirmed that Aether will continue to play the role of the protagonist in the upcoming movie, Farewell Archaic Lord. For those unaware of Aether, he was a minor character in “Across the Skies and Stars” and gained popularity for his appearance in the first movie of Genshin Impact. He is active on social media and shares photos of himself, behind-the-scenes clips, and food. You can check out his profile here.

—

[Attached : A clip featuring Aether flashing a peace sign and looking back]

In an attempt to cheer up Xiao, who appears to be in a bad mood, the blond urges him to smile for the camera. According to Aether, they are both feeling hungry since they haven't eaten anything yet.

“How about we get some almond tofu?”

Xiao visibly brightens up.

—

We also have some great news! Xiao will also be part of the Liyue arc, marking his return from a 3 year acting break. For those who may not be familiar with him (how and why?), Xiao was the lead actor in Immortality and previously collaborated with actor/singer Venti on a few singles.

There are three talented actresses who will be joining the Liyue arc cast. Ganyu, Keqing, and Ninnguang. They are well known for their appearances in popular wuxia and xianxia dramas, such as Crimson Rain, My Fan Against Your Lips, and The Benevolent Shizun. You may have seen one of these well-known movies. Unfortunately, Ganyu and Ninnguang do not have public social media accounts, but Keqing is quite active. If you're interested, you can find her account here, where she mostly uploads vlogs.

—

[ Attached : in the video, the ladies can be seen sitting together while holding delicate clay tea cups. They are all dressed in stunning pastel-coloured robes with intricate embroidery.

Ganyu

Mmh the tea is good! It goes well with the mooncakes.

Kenqing

Tea hits the best after work, oh lord, that was such a long set.

Ninnguang

Well, get your energy back because, after this, I've heard that we’re shooting till night.

The other two gasp in horror and quickly chug down their tea and stuff down mooncakes

—

Now, the long-awaited Mr. two hot guys behind the Traveler. On the left, we have Ajax and on the right, Zhongli.

[ Attached : A selfie of Ajax and Zhongli, they are both wearing their signature hanfu from the movie poster and have their arms around each other, smiling at the camera ]

Both actors will be playing an important role in the movie. Of what? We do not know. You'll have to watch it to find out!

Zhongli is a well-respected, world-renowned actor. He has won numerous awards for being the best lead and side actor — more than I could count with all my fingers combined! He recently starred in the box office hit called “The Legend of Nirvana”

[ Attached : A clip, in which you can hear Ganyu and Xiao cheering for Zhongli as he walks up on the stage to accept the Oscar award ]

Ajax, on the other hand, is a member of the trio idol group, 68-11, and has no previous acting skills. However, his colleagues pushed him to at least audition for the Liyue Arc movie and he luckily landed a role. According to insider news, he brought the character to life and was what they envisioned of the character that he would be playing.

If you're interested in finding out more about 68-11's music, you can check out the group here. Some of their popular releases are "Never-ending Performance" and "Ominous Fandango". They’ll also be holding a concert in the coming month, so grab your tickets fast before they sell out!!

[ Attached : A picture of Ajax signing an autograph for a fan while his colleague Kabu is mischievously seen making bunny ears behind the ginger's head ]

We hope that this gave you some basic info about the new casting! Can't wait to see these talented actors on the screen.

| Trailblazer . @ Stelleeeeeee

Thank you for the incredibly detailed post! Now watch me follow every single one of them, like and reblog every single post. Gosh they’re all so pretty. Miss Ganyu tho, oh- she can step on me and I’d be so happy for it.

Btw I’m watching Miss Keqing’s vlog as I type, SHE’S SO CUTE CUTE CUTE OMG gives me cat girl vibes istg

| March . @ nanokamadoka

Replying to @ Stelleeeeeee

Simp. Get a life

| Albert . @ diehardfan

OMG BABY AJAX WILL BE IN THIS MOVIE!????? 68-11 fans, ASSEMBLE ALL!

#68-11 #ajax #kabu #rosaline

| Tian . @ irontonguetian

I’ve been following Mr. Zhongli since his debut movie. It is so lovely to see him grow and be loved far and wide. Fighting! Mr. Zhongli! We love you!!!

| little luo . @ xiaoluo

Xiao is back from his hiatus! That’s such good news, awe. Missed seeing him so much!

| Aether ✓ . @ aetherviator

I’m excited for the movie too! I hope you all enjoy it, as much as we all enjoyed acting for it :)

| maricotta . @ idekat-thispoint

Replying to @ aetherviator

OMG AETHER!??? WAAAA TT WHO SUMMONED HIM HERE, GUYS STOP, AND ACT DECENT IN THE COMMENTS PLEASE

Show replies

—

Spiral Abyss ✓ . @ abyssalmoon

Premiere day of “Farewell Archaic Lord”. #GenshinImpact #Liyue Arc

Lady Ninnguang “No words to explain how I feel today, we worked hard and at last, it’s here!”

[ Attached : A clip of Lady Ninnguang speaking about her feelings on this memorable day. She looks absolutely stunning in her golden and white qipao ]

—

Welt Yang ✓ . @ mryang

Had the opportunity to speak with Aether and Xiao on the premiere day of Farewell Archaic Lord. Wonderful actors filled with passion, I had a lovely time speaking with you both

—

[ Attached : clip plays in which Aether and Xiao converse happily with Mr. Yang. Both the actors have donned a classic black tuxedo, looking impeccable as always ]

Aether

I hope they keep that scene

Xiao

Which scene?

Aether

You know, that one (does the eyebrow waggle)

Welt

I’m afraid, I do not follow ???

Xiao

Oh don’t worry too much about it (Sighs and looks away. His ears have turned slightly red.)

—

Katherine ✓ . @ yourfavrobot

So, many clips have been going around because of the premiere day of Liyue Arc. I, Katheryne, was able to speak with at least the majority of the cast members who were invited!! Have a look here, it’s now uploaded on my SeelieTube here

| Albert . @ diehardfan

Katherine is doing the real work here. Thank you for the food!

| Dan Heng . @ notdanfeng

Uhhh so, who else noticed the chemistry between Zhongli and Ajax ??? I mean, not to be a weirdo and no I have not been staring at their interactions for too long, it’s just a bit obvious that they’re… Ogling at each other???? Well, they both do look absolutely hot in their hanfus

| little luo . @ xiaoluo

You’re not the only one. But notice that the same goes for Xiao and Aether. These boys are barely able to keep their eyes and hands to themselves, smh. GET A ROOM, GET A ROOM!!!!

| Lumine ✓ . @ lumineviatrix

Replying to @ notdanfeng @ xiaoluo

Yall got potatoes for eyes? Did you NOT see lady Ninnguang giving bedroom eyes at that eyepatch lady (that’s Beidou btw, for those who don’t know her)??? HELLO DUDES, PLEASE GET A ROOM, THIS IS WORSE THAN PDA

| Caelus . @ IM_TRAILBLAZER_NOT_HER

Replying to @ lumineviatrix

First Aether, now Lumine too??? Helloooo where are you when there’s actual fun @ stelleeeeeee???

| Ajax ✓ . @ ajax11th

You know it’s serious when Lumine comments-

| Albert . @ diehardfan

OMG IT’S AJAX!!! ASSEMBLE, 68-11!!

| Kabu ✓ . @ kabuki6th

Replying to @ ajax11th

I think you just summoned our entire fanbase right here, dude

| Rosaline ✓ . @ rosaline8th

Replying to @ kabuki6th

Not that it’s a bad thing, but time to mute notifications. Not that mine weren’t on mute already. But you and Ajax should consider

Show replies

Trending

#GenshinImpact

13.7k posts

#get a room

16.5k posts

#FarewellArchaicLord

#Lumine

Rosaline ✓ . @ rosaline8th

Why hello, little ones! I’ve noticed a sudden influx of followers recently, Idk where all of you are coming from but thank you for your kind words and support! And if you’re feeling extra generous, go shower Ajax with love because FAREWELL ARCHAIC LORD IS OUT IN THEATRES TODAY!!!

| Keqing ✓ . @ keqing_night

PREACH

| Aether ✓ . @ aetherviator

PREACH

| Xiao ✓ . @ almondxiao

… preach

| Zhongli ✓ . @ zhongliballista

Preach ??? What’s preach ???

| Lumine ✓ . @ lumineviatrix

Replying to @ zhongliballista

YES, PREACH, GRANDPA!

| Xiao ✓ . @ almondxiao

Replying to @ zhongliballista

You use the word “preach” when you feel the need to acknowledge or are in agreement of something that is well said

| Zhongli ✓ . @ zhongliballista

Replying to @ almondxiao

Oh…I see… PREACH!

| Ajax ✓ . @ ajax11th

Replying to @ zhongliballista

xD PREACH !!

Show replies

Paimon ✓ . @ paimonispaimon

CONGRATULATIONS CONGRATULATIONS CONGRATULATIONS!!! Important things must be said three times!!

FAREWELL ARCHAIC LORD IS NOW AVAILABLE IN THEATRES, GRAB THOSE SEATS NOW, BEFORE THEY’RE ALL RESERVED (if they aren’t already)

| Katherine ✓ . @ yourfavrobot

One word. PREACH

| Caelus . @ IM_TRAILBLAZER_NOT_HER

I’m taking my entire fam alright!!!

| Caelus . @ IM_TRAILBLAZER_NOT_HER

FUCK THE SEATS ARE ALL GONE NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

| Trailblazer . @ Stelleeeeeee

Replying to @ IM_TRAILBLAZER_NOT_HER

That’s what you get for being slow, lol, loser

| Dan Heng . @ notdanfeng

Replying to @ IM_TRAILBLAZER_NOT_HER

Calm down, @ Stelleeeeeee already booked them in advance for us

| little luo . @ xiaoluo

YESSSS IT’S OUT, GRANNY AND I ARE GOING TOGETHER WAHAHAHAHA

| Tian . @ irontonguetian

We all have been waiting for today, happy Liyue Arc watching everyone! Now… How to convince Master Liu Su to join me… Hmmmmm

Show replies

Trending

#FarewellArchaicLord

40.6k posts

#GenshinImpact

38.2k posts

#PREACH

#whatspreach?

Trailblazer . @ Stelleeeeeee

That ending… was quite unexpected. Salt… And… Betrayal, how cruel

But other than that, what’s up with all the gay coded liyue characters??? That was a real surprise honestly, a pleasant one, of course. Bet it’ll be filled with certain clips once everyone catches on.

| Keqing ✓ . @ keqing_night

:)))) gay coded? What do you mean ???

[ Attached : Image of the main Liyue arc cast, grinning like crazy ]

—

It had been a couple of days since the movie was released in the theatres, and a few of the available cast were having a sleepover as a celebration for their hard work. Unfortunately, Ganyu, Ninnguang and Ajax were busy with some other projects and had to skip out on the get together.

To pass the time, they were all catching up on reviews and comments left by the fans. One comment, in particular, caught their attention. "Uhhh Just me or did you guys notice Morax staring at Tartaglia's big cake... was that included in the script orrrrrr???" Everyone burst out laughing, with some even snorting and cackling.

Keqing, however, looked exasperated as she addressed the person in question. "Mr. Zhongli, you should have been more subtle, at least."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. What big cake? There was no cake anywhere in the movie," Zhongli replied with a huff.

Aether chimed in, "At this point, I wonder if you really are a boomer or if you're just acting innocent."

To which, the blond received an immediate smack on the head for his comment. The room fell silent before erupting in another round of cackling.

#genshin impact #tani writes!!#childe #zhongli #xiao #aether #zhongli x childe #xiao x aether #childe x zhongli #aether x xiao #xiaother #zhongchi #tartali #zhongchili #childe tartagalia #tartaglia #zhongli genshin impact #genshin social media au #liyue characters

10 notes · View notes

scripted-downfall · 1 year

Note

Jensen in DA is SO GOOD. Alec is my bebe and I love him. He deserves better. Even that proves how good of an actor he is.

I also feel Jared puts Jen down whether intentionally or not. Jen would not be caught dead really insulting Jared but Jpad seems to wear it a badge of honor if he can get Jen flustered.

And don't even get me started on the prequel thing.

That's something I don't think I can ever forgive.

He's not a toddler and depression doesn't excuse bad behavior.

And Jared is the golden child of the cw and I think it's bc he's a spoiled brat. He gets what he wants bc he knows they need him.

Idk. I just hope either Jen goes off at some point or that Jared gets what's coming to him. I'm waiting for his in Icarus moment.

Jensen's going places. Jared has no future outside of Daddy cw.

-Actor

Hello again! Sorry for the delay; it was Very Late when we were speaking earlier, and I didn't see your notification come through before I was conking out for the night :) It was nice to find waiting for me though!

And yes, absolutely; Alec was an awesome character, and I cannot stress that enough! He was done unfortunately dirty by the situations on set --- now that is an irl situation that I've heard a lot about --- but I really liked what they were able to produce in spite of that. I loved the friendship that developed between him and Joshua, especially (though it'd be nice if that X-5 from his past missions had been able to stick around for longer, so he wasn't quite so isolated). Also, though it isn't saying anything about Alec, per se, I loved 'Pollo Loco'; it was one of the few s1 episodes I really enjoyed.

I will be the first to confess that I don't know as much as others about Jensen's and Padalecki's irl interactions, but I've seen a number of clips from conventions and the like, and I've had the same impression. Given that these were just clips I came across looking at neutral tags on Tumblr, the fact that a random sample of these all left me with the same impression definitely tends to suggest that there's a statistical prevalence for that kind of behavior. Additionally, those bits I have seen --- his tantrums on Twitter, his thing about "anyone could have played Dean", being negative towards Misha (e.g. calling him a servant "jokingly" when he brings Jensen a beer, etc), and --- lest I be called biased again --- even the non-Jensen-centric bits of vitriol I've seen on Padalecki's social media.

And. The prequel thing. I feel like that speaks for itself.

As for the rest, I think it's probably easiest just to say that I agree (and I can feel the stans readying their keyboards for more threats, so keeping this brief is probably a good idea). We'd been talking earlier about the pride before the fall, but I like your term: Icarus moment. And yeah, for now, Padalecki's at least treading water. Maybe that'll last for a while --- especially given that he has an entire army of people willing to fight for him, for some (not so) unknown reason --- and, if it does, I guess I congratulate him. Fooling a large number of people is, after all, the main job that an actor's supposed to accomplish and, personally, I can't help but feel that he's managed it to some degree. After all, convincing this many people he can act is an impressive trick!

#answered asks #scripted downfall asks answered #anti jared padalecki #acting anon #hey so breaking news #jared fans? you don't have to be here!#like... it's almost as if I've tagged these posts!#with words that tell you they're anti!#*intentionally*!#*so you can avoid them!*#i'm not gonna say dni because you're just gonna ignore it anyway #but come on folks #don't act like i'm targeting you here #i gave you everything you needed to avoid it

75 notes · View notes

youcouldmakealife · 5 months

Text

LBTE: Jared (145-146)

In which Jared is suspicious of his good fortune and Bryce is defeated by a tiny little baby.

Going to be daily from this point on, or we ain't getting to the end of these before we get to the end of Impaired Judgment (still might be a close call).

If you want to follow along, the series page is here.

145. Divine Intervention

Title implies Stephen is divine, and he thinks that is only right. (Or that I am, which is true inasmuch as I am absolutely pulling the strings. Well. Sometimes. When they don't wander off on me. It's less like being behind the driver's wheel and more like herding cats.)

Normal doesn’t mean nothing has changed, because of course things have. A few guys have been trying to talk to Jared, invite him out, like now that he’s ‘Bullet’s husband’ to them they have to treat him differently.

How dare they.

He’s sure the team philosophy is ‘if I can’t sleep with my wife/girlfriend when I’m on the road, you sure as shit can’t sleep with your husband’. It’d upset the collective sense of fairness.

Legitimately, though, it would mainly be frowned upon for this reason.

They get teased a bit about how lucky they are on roadies — ‘road head’ was unfortunately uttered and Jared wishes he could scrub that one out of his memory — but Jared notices it’s never when the media’s around, not even when the support staff is, carefully cupped in the palms of the locker room. Maybe Gabe told them all not to say anything. Maybe they already know.

Jared, Bryce didn’t tell you shit about the dynamic in the Flames room until he hit his breaking point, you KNOW shit stays in the locker room.

“Bryce says you’ve been tense lately,” mom says over drinks after dinner. “That you’re expecting everything to backfire on you two.”

Tense is a massive understatement. High strung would be closer, yet still an understatement.

“Okay but it’s not—“ Jared says

“Paranoia when they’re out to get you?” dad asks.

“Don,” mom says. “At least try a little harder with your jokes than going with ‘chain email from the 90s’.”

“It’s not a joke,” dad protests. “It’s true. It’s not paranoia if the things you’re worried about can come true.”

Jared does not want to be on his dad’s side in this.

And yet he thinks he’s on his dad’s side in this.

Jared slowly embracing that he is his father’s son, which is good, because goddamn is he his father’s son, and that’s only going to become more and more evident as he gets older.

“You’re waiting for the other shoe to drop,” Gabe says.

“I mean,” Jared says. “Basically.”

“But it isn’t necessarily going to,” Gabe says. “And even if it is, you can enjoy it in the meantime, you know. Be happy with what you have instead of worrying about it possibly being taken away.”

Jared waves a dismissive hand, and Gabe sighs.

Get this gratitude bullshit out of Jared’s face.

“Jared,” Gabe says. “You’re scaring the rookies.”

“How?” Jared says, then realises he doesn’t care how. They need to toughen up if he’s scaring them without even trying. “Never mind. Who cares.”

The death glare keeps showing up. It’s not aimed at anyone in particular, which means it feels like it’s aimed at everyone.

“Because the rookies need to toughen up,” Jared says.

“Oh yeah?” Bryce asks, mouth tipping up. “I remember you being scared shitless of Mike Brouwer.”

I mean, legitimate fear for a rookie. Unless you’re Liam Fitzgerald, who obviously has no sense of self-preservation whatsoever.

Jared picks at a cut on his knuckle. He’s not sure how he got it. He had his hand jammed against the boards in a scrimmage earlier by Bryce of all people, so probably that. He won’t tell him, though. Bryce will react like he gravely injured Jared and then walk around all day looking like he accidentally stepped on a puppy’s tail.

He would be DEVASTATED.

Not worth it, especially since he’s finally started not actively backpedaling if he’s up against Jared in practice. The team has not been merciful about how easy Bryce goes on him. The chirping has genuinely been impressive.

The phrase ‘love tap’ has lost all meaning, it’s been used so much. With an accompanying leer every time, naturally.

“Did you come here to insult our decor?” Jared asks.

“No, but it’s a nice bonus,” Stephen says, and makes himself comfortable on the couch.

“Why are you here,” Jared repeats. “Oh shit, are you two finally—“

“No,” Stephen says. “Shut up.”

If someone mentions the word marriage to him one more time…

“This is an intervention,” Stephen says. “Gabe’s about to wring your neck, and you know what happens when Gabe wants to wring someone’s neck?”

“You want to wring his?” Jared guesses.

“No,” Stephen says. “Of course not, if he wants to wring someone’s neck I imagine it’s wholly deserved and I become fully prepared to wring that neck for him.”

Gabe’s neck wringing threshold is so far beyond Stephen’s that chances are Stephen would have already committed the act before Gabe even reaches the point where he considers it.

“Did you know that you sigh?” Stephen says. “Dramatically, apparently. Every day. Multiple times. You sigh.”

“Um,” Jared says.

“And Gabe asks what’s the matter,” Stephen says. “And you say ‘nothing’. And then you sigh again. Or sometimes you say ‘you wouldn’t understand’. And then you sigh. For weeks this has been going on. Weeks.”

Not little sighs either. These are big ‘ASK ME WHAT IS WRONG’ sighs. But if Gabe does ask, he gets hand-waved and ‘you wouldn’t understand’ed. He’s very tired.

“You’re moping,” Stephen says. “Why.”

Jared sighs.

“Gabe’s right,” Stephen says. “That’s infuriating.”

One sigh for Stephen to reach the strangling threshold. Gabe’s endured dozens upon dozens of them.

“Here’s your problem,” Stephen says. “You overthink everything, and you have ulterior motives for pretty much everything you do—“

“Hey,” Jared says. “Stop making me sound evil.”

“—and you think that everyone else is like that,” Stephen continues, like Jared didn’t say anything. “But they aren’t, mostly. Some are, but most people don’t think much at all about, well, anything, honestly. Certainly not about you.”

Sounds fake.

“Hard lesson to learn, but it makes shit a lot easier,” Stephen says. “You may be the centre of your own life, but you’re peripheral to everyone else, with very few exceptions. Fewer than you’d think, honestly.”

Don’t worry, Jared, you’re the centre of Bryce��s life too.

“Bryce is admittedly a great player,” Stephen says. “But you two aren’t fresh off a Stanley Cup in the fishbowl of Toronto media. Vancouver’s a media heavy market, but not like Toronto. And again, it’s been a decade, and other players have come out since then. Riley and Lapointe was national news. You guys? It’d be news, for sure, but I think it’d be a smaller ripple than you’d think it is. The people who give a shit, good or bad, they’ll care. But the average person, who cared because Lapointe and Riley were a novel situation? They won’t. Old news.”

Obviously there is a reaction when Bryce and Jared came out, but it's pretty contained to the hockey world (with the addition of some non-hockey fan but very online people).

It was also bigger news than it would have been had they formally come out, because the second people sniff out a cover up, speculation leads to higher engagement. (For a recent RL example, contrast how many people were talking about Milan Lucic versus Corey Perry.)

“You sound like you’ve thought about this,” Jared says.

“Of course I have,” Stephen says. “I’m a player agent whose NHLer boyfriend has my name on all his legal documents and vice versa. You think I haven’t thought any of this through? You think we didn’t weigh unintended consequences carefully before we made every decision about our relationship, including the one to come out to the team? Gabe thinks the best of people, but he’s not naive. And I think everyone sucks, so.”

Truly the mentor Jared deserves.

“Oh no, he’s awful at it,” Stephen says. “You think Gabe doesn’t overthink everything? Gabe’s analytical: he’s good with people because he considers every single possible outcome and prepares for it.”

“I do that too,” Jared says. No wonder they get along.

“Analyzing and being judgmental aren’t the same thing,” Stephen says. “Apparently.”

Most judgmental people don’t bother with the analysis part at all, in my experience.

“That one was Dmitry, weirdly,” Stephen says. “He gets quite philosophical sometimes. Usually if pot is involved. Especially edibles. I can’t believe you’re giving me that look. It’s legal. And you live in BC. Have you seriously never—”

Jared are you being judgmental again.

Also, for reference: British Columbia has a reputation for being a province full of pot smoking hippies. Which is saying something when Canada legalised recreational marijuana nationwide. (Though that reputation did precede legalisation by decades.)

“Not smoking pot to chill,” Jared says. “Not happening.”

“You’d probably just get paranoid anyway,” Stephen mutters. “More paranoid.”

He’d be fucking hilarious is what he’d be. (Also probably paranoid! More paranoid.)

“Caution’s understandable,” Stephen is. “It is. I’m never going to be the one to tell you to throw caution to the wind or whatever the hell careless people say. But when caution overtakes your happiness, it’s no longer helpful. You just — you have an NHL career. You live with your handsome, talented, adoring husband, like — truly adoring, that man does not think you have faults.”

I continue to be proud of Bryce for no longer arguing when Jared refers to himself as mean.

“And that team supports you,” Stephen says. “Which — there are much less supportive environments than this in the league, you know that firsthand. And I get that’s going to make you wary and think this might be too good to be true, but that’s not — sometimes you just get lucky, Jared. There isn’t some cosmic balance where some higher power’s like, ‘wait, things are too good for Jared, time to shit on him to even things out a bit’.”

Sometimes a higher power does have to do that, though. For narrative reasons.

“You didn’t toss your hair once,” Jared observes. “Can we really call this a proper intervention without hair tossing?”

“I have to be sparing with it,” Stephen says. “Or it won’t have the desired effect anymore.”

Stephen has retained the lesson.

“Is the desired effect people thinking you look like a nervous horse?” Jared asks.

Jared you are so lucky to have friends.

“I don’t know why I’m about to offer this, because you’re a horrible little gremlin,” Stephen says. “But if it helps I can go over scenarios you’re the most worried about and make sure your agents have solid action plans prepared if they do come to pass.”

This is literally the nicest thing anyone could offer Jared right now. He really hates feeling unprepared.

“But I just called you a nervous horse,” Jared says.

He does not deserve Stephen’s offer at all. And knows this.

He’s systematic about absolutely everything — paper trails, photographic evidence, cell records, digital paper trails. He’s not snide for once, no matter what Jared says, just keeps his head down, hair in his face, writing in a messy scrawl Jared knows better than to comment on, because Stephen may be left handed now, but Jared doesn’t think he always was.

He was not originally left-handed, no.

(No snide with clients, and right now he’s in work mode)

“I sigh, apparently,” Jared says. “I hear it’s really annoying.”

“It’s not annoying,” Bryce says. “I just want you to be happy.”

‘The man does not think you have faults’.

“Worried, I know,” Bryce says. “And like, I get it, obviously. I’ve been on this end too. I just want you to be happy.”

Big earnest eyes. Just telling Jared he wants to be happy. Bryce could weaponise this if he tried, but of course he never would.

My sweet, earnest boy.

“I am,” Jared says. “I am happy. It’s not that I’m not happy, it’s that I keep like, being happy, and then I’m like — suspicious of how happy I am, I don’t know.”

Bryce blinks at him.

“I know how absurd it sounds,” Jared lets him know.

“That’s the most Jared thing I’ve ever heard,” Bryce says.

“Hey,” Jared protests. He can’t just call it a Jared thing right after Jared tells him it’s absurd. Even if it’s absurd. And admittedly kind of a Jared thing.

‘I agree with everything you said, but also: how dare you.’

“45 and Hammer asked if I wanted to come over and play FIFA with them tonight,” Bryce says.

45 is not for the number. Colton has the nickname due to the very famous 19th century handgun the Colt .45. He's called 45 for short.

Hammer (for the surname Hammond) is the one Jared refers to as Langley (another nickname of his, because he’s from Langley, British Columbia, which is a town in the Metro Vancouver area. Local boy, just like Bryce.). Hammer/Langley is the one whose comments Jared and Gabe overheard ‘I’m not homophobic, but I don’t get Math and Bullet. Math’s mean.’

They are attached at the hip; live together, room together, sit together.

Jared will be bad at it, and he doesn’t like being bad at things

You don’t say.

Bryce looks hopeful. Transparently hopeful, those big earnest eyes on him.

“Sounds fun,” Jared lies, and Bryce’s grin practically splits his face.

Soooooft.

Bryce getting to Vancouver-adjustment-them coming out to the team is the shortest arc of the ‘verse, but definitely its own thing, tonally. The arc of ‘everything is unnervingly good and everyone is unnervingly nice (except for Holden Chase)’

Now we jump to...the shoulder, the blanket, and the gaffe.

146. Forbearance

“Murder him dead,” Jared says. “Stone cold.”

“The guys might have a problem with that,” Gabe says. “Leading scorer and all.”

“I don’t care,” Jared says. “Do you think Stephen would help me hide the body?”

“Probably,” Gabe says.

Love Gabe’s pragmatism in the face of Jared's death threats. And of course Stephen would, but you just know it’d be ‘remember that time I helped you hide a body?’ every time he needed a favour, or, you know, just to annoy him, until Jared killed him. (But then who would help Jared hide HIS body? Or save him from Gabe?)

Jared gets it. He does. Bryce is frustrated, and feeling helpless, and in a lot of pain. He had some modified training, things he could do without the use of his shoulder, but it was severely limited compared to his usual summer training, and not even close to enough to burn off all the shit feelings he’s been carrying around. And all those shit feelings are twisted up inside him and driving him nuts.

And he’s driving Jared nuts.

Bryce is BORED. And Jared’s never really been around bored Bryce before — first their relationship was brand new, and then they were long distance, so even if Bryce was dealing with boredom in the day to day (say, contract talks), Jared was exciting! But right now Bryce is bored, and restless, and most of the things he would typically do when bored or restless are off-limits. And Bryce doesn’t really have a high frustration tolerance. At all.

The circumstances of the injury probably didn’t help. Bryce doesn't really deal well with humiliation. He doesn’t like it when people laugh at him. Another understatement. And people are laughing. It’s more in a ‘wow, that’s some seriously shitty luck, man’, not a ‘haha loser’ way, though Jared is pretty sure Bryce is taking it as the latter. And to be fair, how many people throw out their shoulder while babysitting? And not even like, a rambunctious toddler or something. A baby. He was babysitting a baby. Who can’t even hold up her own head yet.

It is objectively funny that Bryce was taken out by a baby. But also a sign of the kind of shape Bryce’s shoulder was in by that point. Periodically, throughout IJ(aoe), Bryce has had shoulder injuries. Jared never really specifies which, but they have always been the same shoulder. And he’s always returned to the ice before it was 100%. Or even 90%. Sometimes before 70%.

Chaz feels guilty, which is utterly absurd. Maia’s like, ten pounds. Bryce could have just as easily done something to his shoulder carrying groceries, or, hell, grabbing a glass from a cupboard. Or, most obviously: at some point in summer training, which is a hell of a lot more strenuous than babysitting Chaz and Ashley’s kid. Jared has told him. Bryce has told him. Jared even asked Ash to whisper it to him in his sleep to see if it sinks in, but she just said ‘what sleep are you referring to, Jared?’ and Jared figured it was a bad idea to retort to a sleep-deprived new parent.

Good call on the last thing, Jared. And yes, Chaz is currently exhausted (training AND a baby) and has responded slightly irrationally to the situation.

Bryce is hiding in the guest room when Jared gets back home, and doesn’t peek his head out. He could be napping, there has been a whole lot of napping lately, so Jared doesn’t check on him. He’s bad enough without adding ‘cranky because Jared woke him up’ to the mix.

Jared would argue he also has a baby right now.

Jared’s just sat down with a glass of water when Bryce drifts in, arm in a sling, and sighs explosively in Jared’s direction, then exits. Gabe invited both of them to that lunch. He could have come, but he said he was ‘tired’ and ‘not in the mood’ and that Jared should ‘go have fun’.

A sulky silence is his only answer when Jared reminds Bryce of that fact.

“Then did you literally just come into the living room to make sure I know you’re bored and annoyed?” Jared asks. “Because I am well aware!”

Or a teenager.

So apologetic Chaz: out. Jared can’t vent to Ash, because she’s stressed out as fuck. Raf is too nice to commiserate with. Ditto Grace. Julius was good at first, but now he won’t pick up Jared’s calls or answer his texts except to say ‘busy!’. Stephen’s out for obvious reasons. Gabe is a good ear, but Jared shouldn’t push it, considering the Stephen thing. Erin’s Team Bryce always. Elaine is Elaine.

You know that Jared has discovered all of these things from direct experience.

“I don’t want to hear it,” his mom says when she picks up the phone.

“Hi mom, how are you,” Jared says.

“Great,” mom says. “I don’t want to hear it. Complain to your dad.”

Susan also has some recent experience with the venting.

Jared stares at his phone, betrayed, then calls his dad. Obviously his dad will be up for Bryce bitching.

“Hi bud,” his dad says. “Calling to complain about Bryce?”

As has Don.

Jared gets twenty minutes of updates about every single family member he has. And family friends. And acquaintances. And some of the fellow Canucks dads he met on the Dad’s Trip. And people Jared hasn’t even heard of and is suspicious may not actually exist. He thinks he’s being punished, though he’s not sure why.

This is exactly what Jared deserves.

“How’re you guys?” his dad finally asks.

“Well—“ Jared starts.

“And I don’t want to hear about Bryce’s sulking,” dad says.

Jared just listened to shit about every single person dad knows for twenty minutes and he doesn’t even get to talk about Bryce’s sulking? This is bullshit.

EXACTLY what Jared deserves. Don is very proud of himself right now.

Jared has to commiserate with someone.

“Do you know who the most annoying person alive is?” Jared asks.

“Is it me?” Bryce mumbles.

JARED MATHESON.

“I don’t want it anymore,” Bryce says.

“You have to have it to take your pills,” Jared says.

“I don’t want them,” Bryce says.

Jared takes a slow breath in rather than arguing. That’s what his mom said to do before she stopped taking his calls. “I’ll just leave it beside the bed, then,” he says.

“I don’t want it,” Bryce says, then whines, “Jared!” when Jared puts it down. “I don’t want it. Take it away.”

Jared’s complaining is slightly over the top, but Bryce is, indeed, being a giant pain in the ass right now.

Julius screens his call. Jared knows this because Julius texts ‘I screened your call’

I love Julius so.

#liveblogging the end

43 notes · View notes