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bentnotbroken1fanfiction · 1 year

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I posted 768 times in 2022

That's 521 more posts than 2021!

54 posts created (7%)

714 posts reblogged (93%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@memes-saved-me

@bentnotbroken1fanfiction

@meowmeowbilly

@lazybakerart

@ariesbilly

I tagged 179 of my posts in 2022

#harringrove - 49 posts

#billy hargrove - 44 posts

#steve harrington - 25 posts

#writing - 11 posts

#max mayfield - 9 posts

#fanfiction - 8 posts

#bruises - 8 posts

#lol - 8 posts

#stranger things - 8 posts

#bruises on both my knees for you - 8 posts

Longest Tag: 127 characters

#fanfic writers and readers are the only ones that care so much about him that we see every fucked up thing that happened to him

My Top Posts in 2022:

Posting something that I added to AO3 a long time ago but can't find on my blog. If you've already read it, sorry. But I thought I'd add it to tumblr while I wait to finish some things I'm working on.

Billy lights a cigarette. Not because he needs one, he doesn't need much of anything anymore, but to give his mouth something to do while he fills Harrington's grave with dirt.

The pretty boy owes him big time for this. Billy had plans for tonight. Plans that he had to cancel because someone decided to stumble into a den of the undead. And yeah, he didn't have to drag his bitten and dying ass out here and give him his blood, but he couldn't just let an ass as fine as that become little more than a snack.

And sure , maybe his reasons for doing this are that shallow, but he's still doing him a solid. Billy never wanted to sire anyone, so this is totally out of character for him to begin with. Harrington is damn lucky he's still pretty.

He heaves more dirt over him.

Why the fuck was he even at that warehouse anyway? He had zero business being on that side of town, on his side of town. Maybe he should ask him once he climbs his way free. Then smack him upside the head for being a complete moron. Who walks into empty creepy buildings in the middle of the night?

Harrington apparently.

IU must not have a class on street smarts.

He huffs a laugh at the thought of the boy taking that kind of class as he continues his work, and it only takes a few more seconds to fill it all in.

He pats the dirt with the shovel and smirks, "Sleep tight, sweetheart. See you tomorrow."

Harrington crawls into his new life as gracefully as Billy thought he would, which is not at all . He stumbles away from the grave on shaky legs and searches around frantically, fear and panic evident on his dirt smeared face. Once he sees Billy sitting on the hood of his Camaro, his eyes grow comically wide.

"What the fuck? What the fuck is going on? Did I just climb out of a fucking grave? Did you bury me alive, Hargrove?"

"Calm down, Princess. I saved your sorry ass. You'd be a bloodless corpse in a basement right now if I hadn't gotten you out of there."

"Out of where? What are you talking about?"

"Holy shit, you have no idea what you walked in on, do you?"

Confused, he answers, "No?"

"Jesus Christ, you really are an idiot." He throws the other boy a towel to get some of the grime off his skin.

"Gee, thanks." He scowls, but he takes the offering and starts wiping himself off.

Billy sighs, "I don't know why you were at that warehouse, Harrington, but whoever sent you probably wanted you to die," He watches the towel pause on his face, "or at the very least, beat to shit."

"I was there to hook up with a guy." He admits quietly. "He picked the meet up place."

And Billy knows he was the only human in that building last night, so that means that one of the other vampires had set him up. It's not like Billy's never hooked up with a dinner date, but that wasn't what was going on there. He had thought it was just an accident and that they had gotten carried away. But no, they had planned to suck him dry until Billy intervened.

It pisses him off because they don't have to do that anymore. They don't have to wait so long between feedings now. They don't get so lost in their hunger that they kill all of their meals. So killing humans these days is unnecessary. It's an archaic practice that Billy despises.

Fuck.

Now he would have to watch out for those bastards.

"I know it was stupid, and I should have left when I saw how creepy the place was, but I just really needed to get laid."

He laughs at that. He can't help it. "I wouldn't have thought King Steve would end up literally dying for some dick."

"Oh, fuck you, Hargrove." He growls. "Act like you don't gag for it too."

Billy raises a brow. "Gag for it, huh? No, I'm not the one gagging, pretty boy."

See the full post

138 notes - Posted June 5, 2022

Posting a little bit of that Harringrove A/B/O I wrote last night. It needs some work but it's been fun working on it.

The first thing that Billy notices when he walks into his assigned cabin is that there is an odd smell in the air. It's faint. Nothing super obvious. Nothing harsh or musty, but just…different. Almost pleasant. He was prepared for all the insane amounts of Alpha pheromones permeating the camp grounds, the testosterone, even the B.O., so it was a welcome scent to be honest.

He quickly forgets about it though, when he leaves to sign in and get the schedule for this weeks activities and the list of campers under his watch.

But at the mess hall later, his nose twitches and he realizes that he's picking up the same scent he found in the cabin. It seems slightly familiar now…and it's coming from the camp counselors table.

He isn't sure who it's coming from, but now that he's closer to the source he can pick up the familiar underlying smell…it almost smells like Max when she…

But there's no way. This is an Alpha camp. It's impossible for anyone to get in without having already presented…but yet…he's definitely picking up omega.

He looks around in alarm trying to see if anyone else is noticing this. But everyone is laughing, eating, and horsing around. He's the only one that seems to be bothered.

What the fuck is going on? Maybe he's imagining things. He's gotta be.

Right?

Yeah. He's just sensitive lately. That's all.

So he ignores the feeling in his gut that something isn't right and eats his dinner and jokes with the other counselors and tries to hide the fact that his nose is tingling and his skin is itchy.

But later, when he walks back into the cabin to meet the brats he's in charge of, he stops dead in his tracks. He can't ignore his instinct here.

It's Jasmine…and honey…and something woodsy. And while it's not really strong, it's concentrated and more noticeable.

The other counselor assigned to this cabin is already chatting with the kids and when he looks over to Billy he lifts a hand in greeting and Billy just knows.

It's him. It's definitely him.

He's the one.

Billy introduces himself.

Turns out, the guys name is Steve Harrington and he's about to be a senior at Hawkins High. He's in the program to gain some extra curriculars for his college resume.

And he's the prettiest thing that Billy has ever seen.

But he can't ask questions here. They've got a cabin full of newly presented 13 and 14 year olds. It's not the time or place to discuss this.

So he just stays awake all night, keeping watch. Just in case.

But nothing happens.

That day or the next.

But Billy does notice that as the days pass, the smell strengthens a little and now it's affecting him. It puts him on edge. Makes him want to get close. Makes him want to protect…and that is not something that happens to him.

So he's gotta be right.

The only problem is that he doesn't know how to go about this. Steve Harrington seems to be pretty popular among the staff, the counselors, and the kids alike. He's asked around and he found out he's somewhat of a leader at his school. Nickname King Steve.

So someone like that? Probably wouldn't want someone like Billy questioning him about his status.

But he can't ignore it. It would be wrong. So he musters up the courage to approach him one night after the kids go to bed and they're all hanging out by the fire.

"Hey, Harrington. Got a minute?"

See the full post

147 notes - Posted June 10, 2022

So for me, Steve's six little nuggets speech was less endearing and more upsetting. Mostly because of the reason behind him wanting that so badly.

The boy is lonely as fuck.

He wants a big family so he won't ever be alone again. If he has kids, he will always have someone to love and who loves him unconditionally no matter what.

So, yeah. It more broke my heart than made me go "Aw Steve. He's so adorable wanting a bunch of kids and an RV to go on road trips with. UwU."

194 notes - Posted July 6, 2022

Based on this lovely art by @angryhuangyu

Just imagine Billy waking up in Steve's body...

He would wake up and stretch...and realize his ribs don't hurt like they should. His head isn't throbbing and his lip isn't pulling tight. It's strange because, after the argument last night, they definitely should be. So he opens his eyes and is met with an unfamiliar ceiling in an unfamiliar room. But when he looks in the mirror he does see a familiar face.

And of course, there's a freak out because what the actually fuck, but he would quickly deduce that if he's in Harrington's body, that means Harrington is in his.

And if Billy had a typical white picket fence family, he would totally take the opportunity that fate has given him and run with it. He would love to just fuck with King Steve. He would love to just relax in his castle, drinking fancy booze, watching TV, and taking a dip in that sweet inviting swimming pool.

But he doesn't have that kind of family.

He doesn't have a nice suburban dad that thrives on a strong sense of family and community. He has the kind that thrives on pain and punishment.

Which means Harrington is in serious trouble. Because he knows that he's going to wake up and wonder why he feels like shit. He's going to get up and try to leave. (He won't be able to because Billy is grounded.) He will come face to face with his Dad, not knowing what he can and can't say, not knowing the rules.

He's going to say or do something wrong.

And then he's quickly going to find out the secret Billy has been trying so fucking hard to keep.

And yeah, that fact would be irritating and embarrassing as fuck, but that's not what has him in a panic trying to find the stupid keys to the Beemer.

It's the fact that as much shit as Billy gives him, Harrington doesn't deserve to be on the receiving side of Neil Hargrove's anger.

No one but Billy does.

199 notes - Posted July 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

It's been so long since Billy has heard another person's voice, but now he hears her. Soft but clear in the red tinted darkness.

"Dear, Billy."

It's Max.

His heart beats just a little faster because that's impossible. She can't be here. No one can be here. No one but him. Him and the monster.

But despite what he knows as a fact, his ears are still picking up that ghostly sound.

"I don't know if you can even hear this."

He follows it. Drawn like a moth to a flame. It's not like he wants Max to be subjected to this hellscape, but…

He stops where the voice is the loudest.

At a gravestone….

With his name on it.

What the fuck?

"Ever since you left, everything's been," she pauses, "….a total disaster."

He looks around. She's not actually there, but he can still sense her presence.

What the hell is going on?

He waits for her to keep going, but can only hear her quiet breaths, so he sits down, back against the mossy stone slab.

Waiting.

"For awhile we tried to be happy," she finally continues, "Normal. "

There's so much pain in that word. Even though he can't see her, he knows she's been suffering.

"I know that's impossible…too much has happened…nothing will ever be normal again…"

Billy understands. God how he understands.

"I just…" her voice falters. "I just hope that at least you're finally happy…wherever you are."

His throat tightens, because he's not…He's not happy. And…

"I'm right here, Max." He whispers to the empty space before him. "I'm right here."

252 notes - Posted April 13, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #I suck at tagging lol #and I reblog myself 😂

6 notes · View notes

mallowstep · 2 years

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havent checked ur blog in a few days but no way did anyone genuinely follow u and think u were SOMEHOW an anti???? HELLO?????? there is just some shit that should be common sense. maybe the guy who writes darkfic about warrior cats characters Doesn't believe in evil fanfiction. who would have guessed

yeah ikr?

like literally i...posting "i'm not an anti" provided ZERO new information about me. y'all already knew i'm against harassment.

i fucking write darkfic. jesus christ. i guess i'd give you if you followed me at the very beginning, logged off for a few months, and are just getting on (even though i was arguing about age gaps, incest, and harassment back then too), but like. god.

y'all've got zero reading comprehension.

#ask #anon #mine #'y'all' at the end refers to people unfollowing

7 notes · View notes

ninnodesu · 3 years

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“Can I See You?” ch 5 || Modern!Thomas

It's time, guys. We've reached the ending of this little thing I created! I will be writing an epilogue, but the mainstory is now over.

I so hope you liked this little story, and I appreciate every single comment, kudos and share I've gotten from all of you! It's been so much fun actually writing and ending my first ever fanfiction! Thank you, thank you thank you! Tipjar/sneak peek collection

The more you started to walk on your own, the more the atmosphere in the house had changed. You could feel it, it was heavier. Charlie’s eyes had become colder. He started following you when he noticed that Thomas felt safer leaving you alone for longer periods of time. His eyes had almost gotten… hungrier.

The feeling of eyes dragging over your body during times you’d been alone and doing simple things such as baking, doing laundry, reading, was becoming something unbearable. You’d also begun to notice how Charlie had been home more in general. He came home earlier from his patrolling, and left later than he usually did. That is, if he left the house at all.

At first, it didn’t really bother you. You guessed he just wanted to spend time at home in general. But then came the subtle comments from him. Those… hints. Whispers directed at you if you were close enough to hear them; “Your leg looks nice ” and “I wouldn’t be runnin’ yet, though”. It was always either those hints, or he’d come straight up to you to stand close and breath in your scent. Charlie wasn’t stupid, though, he knew to keep away when Thomas was close by, but even if you remained close to your self-appointed guardian, you could still feel a pair of - literally - hungry eyes following you. Today, however, you were blessed. Because Charlie had decided to leave you alone thanks to Tommy, who you had dragged out to sit under one of the big trees at the end of the yard with. The weather was cool, the sun wasn’t as much of a scorcher for once, so you’d taken the opportunity to relax.

Tommy was leaning up against the tree while you resorted to lay down, starfishing in the grass. “Tommy?”, you spoke up, and he grunted in response. So you turned your head to look at him, noticing he had his eyes closed and arms crossed behind his head. “Does your face still hurt?”. Your only response from him was a side glance and a cocked eyebrow. “I mean…”, you sat up. “Does your face still hurt where you cut it?”, at that moment his brows knit together, still not giving you a proper response. “I’m just saying… If your face isn’t in pain…”, looking down you shrugged. That’s when a deep sigh erupted from him and he proceeded to lean forward. He glared at you, annoyance clear as glass, and you knew; You pushed that particular button one too many times “I...I’m sorry I just…”, you stammered out. He was tense as he raised one hand to spell.

‘E’ ‘n’ ‘o’ ‘u’ ‘g’ ‘h’

And that was it. He left you sitting alone on the grass outside as he stomped off, hands clenched into fists. And you knew you’d gone too far. The front door slammed hard enough for you to hear it, even though you were a few feet away and you flinched slightly.

“Shit…”, you mumbled to yourself and laid on your back again.

Looking up into the sky, you traced the clouds as they slowly drifted by, and your thoughts started to venture into your life back home. Sure, you have your family. But the contact with them has always been sporadic. Not because you didn’t care for them, but only because that's just… how it’s always been. A natural occasional communication, which both you and your parents are comfortable with. Friends? That’s another deal. You have a few, and you keep in contact with them, but you’re not close to any of them. Most of them just being the “ I know you through that person who I met at a party ”-kind of friendship. But you always felt that was better than not having anyone at all.

All that thinking about home awoke a sudden urge to talk to your parents, and you patted the pockets on your jean shorts, cursing at the fact that you hadn’t brought your phone out with you. Groaning, you reluctantly got up from your place to head back in. You didn’t get far, however, before the apparent bloodhound Charlie had transformed into grabbed your arm and pulled you around a corner.

He gripped your upper arms hard enough to leave bruises as his eyes undressed you.

“So, your guard dog left ya, didn’t he?”, you just glared at him and scrunched up your nose as the smell of alcohol wafted towards you. "Let me go, Charlie.", you tugged your arms to try and free yourself, but his grip hardened, making you hiss in pain. "It’s Hoyt to you, bitch. ", he growled. "What do you want, Hoyt?", you pronounced his make-believe name in a childish way, doing your best to get your face into neutrality. "Oh, hun'", he started as one of his hands came up to caress one of your cheeks, "I think we can arrange somethin’ real nice." You turned your head from him, you couldn’t look at him, you knew exactly what he meant by that, and the thought alone was enough to make you sick. But your reaction was not what he wanted, as he grabbed your chin in a hard grip to make you look at him before he continued; “If ya can open those pretty legs o’ yours to his ugly mug”, he started breathing deeper, a low moan escapes him as he continues, “then maybe you’ll do the same for me.”

You just stared at him, Doing your best to hide the obvious shock at what he had said. But if his grin was something to go after; he saw it. “Oh, I heard ya alright. You think you’re being quiet, but I heard him fucking ya.”

You frowned at the obvious breach in private life. You shook your head to get away from his grip. “You make me sick.”, the only words you could even imagine giving as a retort before you inhaled sharply, as you felt one of his hands drag itself over one of your breasts. He leaned in close to your ear and whispered;

"I'll make ya feel better than him." You whimpered at his words, doing your absolute best to ignore the prickling sensation of oncoming tears. "That boy doesn't know how to properly treat a pussy." "Please… Let me go.", you couldn’t help the pathetic plea. "Or…" "Or what, bitch ? You'll call your dumb guard dog to come rescue you?"

That disgusting grin off his returned before he made your blood run cold; " I can't wait to eat you. "

Meanwhile, down inside the basement. Tommy was leaning on his hands as he looked into a cracked mirror, Thoroughly inspecting his scars and deformities. He hated what he saw, always had. He didn’t have a nose and parts of his lips were missing. Your words rang in his mind as he let his head hang.

I want you, Tommy.

For some reason, he was annoyed. The fact that your leg is fully healed now means you could just get up and leave him whenever you wanted. But he wanted to believe, by God, how much he wanted to believe that you wouldn’t. That you’d choose to stay with him, become his and, maybe even… He shook his head. That was a dumb thought.

Looking back up, he was met with a darker shade of his usually light eyes. And he sighed as a storm began to rage inside him.

- I told you. - Stop. - No, you stop, Tommy. Open your eyes. - I have. - You haven't opened them for shit. She's leaving you. - You don't know that!

He punched the mirror, and glass rained down. Blood welled up from where the glass cut him.

- I do know that. And you do too. - No. She- - She what? Loves you? - … - Look at yourself, man. You're nothing to her. - We slept together. - She did that to get on your good side. She did it for survival. - No… - Look in the mirror…

Thomas glanced down at one of the biggest shards on the ground;

- And come up with one good reason she would stay for that.

He growled and crushed the shard under his heavy boot before buckling his mask back on and walking up to the main floor. With the feeling of hunger attacking his stomach he did his best to try and sneak into the kitchen, knowing mama is making supper. His plans got spoiled, however, as he was quickly shooed away from the kitchen by words such as "I don't need you eating everything before dinner!" or "Nuh-uh, Thomas Hewitt. Don't think about snacking before dinner!". A towel getting smacked at his arm had him chuckling and raising his hands in defeat. So he decided to trudge to his upstairs bedroom instead.

A satisfied hum left him as he ran his fingers through the dirty locks on his head, his mask hanging loosely around his neck, before finally letting himself collapse on the bed. He grimaced a bit as he began picking on the bloody scabs that were starting to form.

Shit, these went deep…

He shrugged and proceeded to stare up at the ceiling. Again disappearing inside his head.

- Why don’t you go find her? - Why should I? - To tell her the truth. - Pssh. - Haha. See, I told you. - Told me what? - The truth. - That if you’re ever dumb enough to confess, - she’ll leave. - … - I’m just sayin’, since she can walk again. - I’ve told you to shut up. - Because you’re a pussy and can’t handle hearing facts. - She doesn’t love you. - She used you. Fucked you to get on your soft side. - Do you really think she would love you? Are you that dense? - What do you mean? - You think you could live a happy life? - Get married? - Have kids? - I… uh... - Jesus christ, you actually are stupid, Thomas. - …

He was jolted out of his brain as he heard a knock on his door, to which he tapped the floor with his boot in response. "Supper’s ready, hun.", his mama lit up the gloomy room when he saw her head poking in. He nodded and got up, tucking his hand away from sight. If she saw the cuts, he would just get an earful from her, something he was not in the mood for. The smell of food wafted through the main floor, and his stomach made one of the loudest growling sounds he’s heard; chili was on the menu. Looking around, he noticed you were nowhere to be seen… neither was Charlie. A detail that did not sit right in his gut. He tapped the table, gaining mama’s attention, and motioned to your empty seats;

‘Where are they?’

Luda just seemed to look at the chairs, then at Monty who just shrugged. "I don't know, dear." Thomas didn't like this, he couldn't trust his uncle alone with you. He knew Charlie was a creep towards women, especially so attractive ones. He had, unfortunately, both seen and heard it. But The funny feeling in the pit of his stomach began simmering down just slightly as he saw you both walk into the dining room. Your expression, however, made a chill run down his spine. You didn’t look at anyone. All you did was sit down in silence at the dinner table.

All of you hung your head and listened as Charlie began reciting the dinner prayer. Thomas nodded along as it ended with “ Amen ”. Tommy saw how you mainly just pushed food around with your spoon, mostly just taking the smallest of bites. He knew you weren’t the biggest fan of eating human meat, but he did also know you actually loved his mama’s chili. Wanting your attention, he nudged your ankle with his boot carefully, hoping you would look up at him or at least give him a glance. But you didn’t react much.

- I told you - Fuck off.

It mostly looked like you tucked your feet behind the legs of the chair, if the way your thighs moved as he looked over you was anything to go by.

Dinner was silent, only a slight murmuring coming from mama and Charlie. Thomas finished eating first, but decided to stay seated and wait for you. He wanted to know what was up with you and why you looked so… out of it. Your expression relaxed, no smile. Your eyes looked empty, merely staring out into nothingness as you slowly forced yourself to eat. Something was up. But as you thanked mama for the meal and rose to stand up, with Thomas mimicking you; Charlie spoke up. “Thomas, sit down.”, The man stopped in a hunched over position, hands flat on the table, brows furrowed. He glanced over to you, who looked pale and your lips were pressed into a thin line as you left in a hurry. Clatter then came from the kitchen and it almost sounded like you basically threw your plate into the sink. He listened to your footsteps. And finally, a clue. The back door closed shut.

Back yard. Barn, probably.

“Thomas.”, Charlie’s voice rang out again, harder. He just looked over at his uncle with a cocked eyebrow, sitting across from him as he sat back down. “It’s time we talked, boy.”, slowly, Thomas’ breathing increased, brows knitting together as he signed.

‘About what?’

“About your friend, hun.”, his mama spoke out next to him and he snapped his head to look at her before mouthing the word “ no ” towards her. “Tommy, it’s time we talked about this. We agreed.”

‘I’m not killing her, mama.’

His hand movements were stiff, and his face twisted into a scowl. His mama sighed and proceeded to lean back and put her hands on her lap. “I know you like this girl, darlin’, but…”, he was breathing heavily, the thick leather of the mask making every breath sound like a huff. The look between his mama and Charlie made him sick. Banging the table with the palm of his hand he gestured for her to continue before inquiring;

‘But, WHAT?’

“She ain’t family, boy.”, with those words Thomas shot up from the chair, knocking it back on to the floor. He was furious. It was rare for him to get that angry at his own family, which made his motion all the more shocking to the rest of the people in the room. ‘ What do you mean she’s not family?’ In his mind, he knew it was a stupid question. The only one who knew you, was him. They didn’t. To them, you were nothing more than cattle. He stormed out, kicking one of the empty chairs out of his path and making it fly to the corner of the room. “THOMAS BROWN HEWITT!”, his mother called after him. But he ignored her. He couldn’t look at her. All those times she’d talked about grandbabies, and then she was talking about taking away the only person who… He just shook his head and headed off to the barn.

Thomas was off to hunt a specific kind of prey.

The barn was cool and damp, a stark contrast to the settling warmth of the evening sun. You’ve curled up behind an old rundown couch in one of the corners to try and hide from the world. Charlie’s voice echoed in your head. You just wanted to go home, to your apartment, most preferably with Tommy. The only person who could make this hell house bearable. A sudden gust of cool evening wind hit you, and a shiver ran down your spine. “I don’t want to die…”, you mumbled into your arms as you wrapped them around your knees and sobbed. Heavy tears accompanied by hulking whimpers. You were crying loudly, almost screaming out your pain in a desperate way to drown out what Charlie had told you before dinner.

“I hope you said your goodbyes, girlie” “What do you mean?” His smirk, his disgusting grin plastered on his face and that breath that reeked of stale tobacco and alcohol. “You’re invited to our Sunday barbeque,” a tongue slowly dragging over your neck, “but you’re not going to like the menu.”

Heavy, shuffling footsteps alerted you of his presence and made you glance in their general direction before peeking up from the back of the couch. And there you saw him, that beacon of light of yours, how he knew you went out here, you weren't sure. But there he was, and so were you. Taking a deep breath, you swallowed down any remaining tears and hulking sobs. "I'm here.", you weakly called out and threw a hand up from behind the sofa to notify where exactly " here " is. You didn’t have to look up to know he was leaning over the back of the couch, because your entire form was cast in shadow. All you did was curl back up into a ball. "What do you want?", you mumbled, probably too low for him to hear properly, but then the robotic voice you’ve come to associate Tommy with rings out in the barn.

Talk

"About what?", you swallowed again, Fear of what might be about to come bubbling in your stomach.

Charlie

You grimaced as you heard that disgusting name, but you put on a childish voice and imitated Charlie. " Actually, it's Hoyt .", why you did it you weren't sure. But you figured it was because of the sheer fact that you couldn’t stand being mad around Thomas. And you smiled as you heard that deep chuckle of his come from above you. Suddenly, you felt a large hand come lay on the top of your head. He smoothed your hair down, putting a stray strand behind the part of your ear he could reach. Looking up, you were met with those deep eyes of his. His hand pulled away slightly, but all you did was reach for it with your own and put it to your cheek, nuzzling into his rough and calloused but soft palm.

You closed your eyes while enjoying the feeling of his warm hand against your cheek. But then, the memories of what Charlie had told you crept back into your mind. You were invited to a barbeque, but not the way you'd like to be. Reaching up, you grip around Thomas' wrist desperately. Full of angst, fear, a grasp signaling he's the only thing holding you above water. But you couldn't look at him, if you opened your eyes at this moment, the floodgates would open. Because you were too scared of the fact that one day you’d never see his face again.

You didn’t want to look at the man you were going to leave in the worst way possible. Even if you did your best to swallow any and all sobs that wanted to escape, eventually you couldn’t anymore. And you cried. Fat tears running down your cheeks and over Thomas’ hand still resting on you, a big thumb coming to wipe one of them away. His hand disappeared from you before you heard shuffling and a low grunt. Shortly after, you found yourself surrounded by two big arms that lifted you up, only to be sat down on his lap.

His hold was warm, comforting, a castle of coziness and solace. You woke up one day, terrified for your life, looking up into the eyes of the man you’ve talked to online for months, maybe even close to a year, waiting to die by his hand. But now; those very hands were holding you tight to him, shielding you from the real monster, and all you could do was cry. You felt his chest start to vibrate before you heard a low and booming… hum. Thomas was humming a tune, a melody you hadn’t heard before, and soon after, you felt him ever so slowly start to sway from side to side. He was comforting you.

He sighs as he rests his chin on top of your head, calmly swinging while humming the lullaby his mama always sang for him when he had nightmares, or came home after getting rocks thrown at him. He couldn’t be angry at you anymore for nagging on him to start talking. You felt as small as you did during the nights you’d had nightmares and asked him to come sleep with you.

Right then, and right there, he could stay forever. That was better than the first time you’d had sex. When he felt that you’d started to relax a little bit and when he noticed your sobs had started to die down, he swallowed, wetting his dry throat before clearing it with a faint cough. “Mine.” He lifted his head as you looked up at him with huge eyes. An unsure smile danced on his lips before he gave a small, discreet nod. Hoping you would get his message, what he wanted to convey.

You were his. In his heart, you had been his for a long time and Tommy could never live with himself if he lost you without letting you know that you were. He knew the conversation wasn’t over yet, due to the fact that Hoyt would still be on his ass about killing you. And if Thomas wasn’t careful enough; he would do it himself. You weren’t safe here anymore, and he knew that. The deal was that you could stay alive until your leg healed. What would happen after that? Tommy was truly scared that he would lose you, one way or another, and he made the decision to confess his feelings for you then and there. The look you gave him sent the butterflies in his stomach into a frenzy. Carefully, he took your chin and turned your head slightly for him to easier whisper into your ear; “You’ve always been mine.”

He bit back a chuckle when you quickly turned your head to look him in his eyes. “What…”, all he did in response was smile at you and slide a hand under your jaw to caress your cheek with his thumb as he took your face in, making sure to remember it. His eyes travelled over your eyebrows, outlining the shape of your nose... Those beautiful eyes, and the shape of your cupid's bow, loving the fact that your lower lip was just slightly thicker than the upper one. He moved his thumb from your cheek to slowly let it drag on the edge of your lower lip. Your heart fluttered in your chest, butterflies wreaking havoc in your stomach as you felt his lips land on yours. It’d been two weeks since you’d slept together. Neither of you had initiated anything more than just leaning up against one another - or mostly you using Tommy as a pillow - while watching late-night TV when neither of you could sleep.

His lips were warm, his raspy breathing fanning over your cheek as you entangled your hand in his dark locks of brown to pull him closer to you as you accepted his kiss. A small delighted hum came from him as you did. He surprised you, however, as he made the decision to deepen your kiss, a sign of dominance he hadn’t shown you before. His heavy tongue asking for entrance by tenderly dragging over your lower lip. And you happily accepted his question, parting your lips to give his strong muscle room to take the control he seemed eager to express.

You only gave him a quick taste, however, then moved around on his lap to instead straddle his big thighs and wrap your legs around his waist. Thomas, ever the shy man he was, reacted as you’d expected him to. His face turned a lovely shade of red, and his hands started to awkwardly hover over your hips. Every ounce of bravery he just had in his body seemed to have just seeped out through his very pores. Hands balled into fists only to unclench again.

You giggled at how fast he relaxed as you took his hands and put them on your hips. “Tommy… Relax.”, you whispered close to his face. “You’ve touched me before. Remember?”, you breathed out a laugh as you saw his eyes shoot open, his face becoming redder as he nods quickly, and his eyes dart around the barn as if trying to avoid you. Your fingers carded through his hair to find the buckles of his mask. After silently asking for permission to remove it, a smile grew on your face as he nodded, closing his eyes as you slowly unbuckled it and put it down next to him.

His shyness always got to you. He was such a hulking giant, covered in muscles made for manual work, muscles made for crushing bones. His mere presence had the ability to invoke fear, yet there he was, seated on the floor behind a couch. A blushy mess, with you on his lap. It didn’t take long after straddling his thighs before he pressed his lips to yours. Again, he asked for permission to taste you. And again you gave it to him. His tongue met yours, and you moaned as he pressed his against it. Tongues, curious to taste and to feel one another. To commit each other's taste to memory. Last time, every kiss you had shared while he thrust himself into you was hurried, Hungry, and in the heat of the moment. But now? The kiss had a meaning, it was a silent communication between the two of you. It was between two people, two hearts connecting. Both of you knew what the kiss meant, you were made for each other.

You’d fallen in love with a perfect stranger, long before he had shown you his face. The way he had talked to you, about his hobbies. The love he had for his family, the passion for his work. He was your shelter and your knight. All it took for Thomas to fall for you? Your voice. He still remembered when you accidentally sent him a voice recording, how you laughed at your dumb little miss click, ending the recording with “oh well, hi” . And to him, you fit perfectly into his arms, the spaces between his fingers made for yours.

A devilish thought hit you, and so you ground once over his crotch and laughed when he broke the kiss with a loud grunt, almost pushing you straight off his lap. An action only hindered by your hands wrapped around his neck. He glared at you and shook his head. “Why not?”, you replied in a sultry teasing voice. He refused with his head and nodded to the open space behind you. “Oh, no one will notice us here.”, his face reddened up again. He kept vehemently indicating “ No. No sexy times in here. ” But you wouldn’t back down. Again, you ground on him, causing him to groan and move his hands to your hips. You attacked his lips, hungry to taste his moans as you moved over his growing erection. After another hard grind, Tommy grabbed your hips hard and took control, Slowly moving you over his crotch while you ate up every sound he made. It didn’t take long for you both to end up in a frenzied dry humping session. At some point his hand had found its way up under your top, lightly pinching a nipple between his fingers. The barn was filled with grunts and heavy moans from the both of you, but a sudden high noise startled you. Your movements stopped. You turned to look towards where the sound had come from, both of you silently listening for more noises while Tommy reached for his mask and buckled it back on over his head.

A bang. And a scream .

Thomas was fast up on his feet, basically throwing you off his lap and bolting towards the house.

The scream belonged to mama.

Inside, Tommy was met by the frightened stare from a woman he had never seen before, something that wasn’t uncommon and Thomas figured she was one of Hoyt’s hookers. The drunk idiot had probably slipped up: he either accidentally told the woman what really goes on in this house, or she snuck off after he had passed out and ended up finding the basement. And so, that woman was holding his mama hostage with what looked like one of Charlie’s guns. She was terrified. Thomas' chest was heaving as he glued his eyes on the gun.

“Drop the gun, hun. And nothin’ is gonna happen to ya.”, Luda’s voice was calm, but Thomas could hear the faint undertone of fear in her voice. She’s terrified but refuses to show anything. ”L-let me go! A-and I won’t call the cops!”. When the woman spoke his eyes snapped to her, so Thomas took one step forward, but she quickly pressed the gun into mama’s temple, making him stop with a muffled growl. "S-stop! Or I'll… I'll do it!", he remained still, opting to look at his mother as she explained the situation with only two words. “She knows, Tommy.”, Luda Mae flinched as the stranger behind her scoffed and pressed the gun even harder into her temple. But her face was locked in neutrality, and he couldn’t help but admire the strongest woman he’s ever known. “Yeah! I-I know! Fucking crazy, inbred psychos…”, she hissed

Thomas raised a hand, spelling out;

'H' 'o' 'y' 't'

His eyes flickered down to her finger doing an upwards motion to the floor upstairs.

Fucking asshole

Was all Tommy could think before the poor woman’s eyes suddenly shot open in shock. Blood bubbled up from her mouth and she sputtered, covering mama's right cheek in crimson. The hand holding the gun fell to her side, and as it did, Tommy made an act at lightning speed to pull mama behind him. He just stared as he saw… you. He saw you pulling the knife out of the hooker's throat. You'd stabbed her. Straight into the jugular, and as she went down he followed her before shifting his eyes to you as you wiped a bit of blood off your cheek. Your face was unreadable. He wasn’t sure what kind of emotions you were conveying at that moment. Fear? Disgust? Anger? Sadness? He didn’t know. But the hand holding the knife was shaking, almost to the point where it would vibrate out of your palm. He listened to your raggedy breaths coming out in sobs before you suddenly dropped the weapon, then leaned over the sink and threw up.

The sound of rushing water echoes on the upper floor where you’re furiously scrubbing your hands while hyperventilating, hands shaking badly as you do. Your thoughts are in a whirlwind, trying to wrap your head around the fact that you’d killed someone. And knowing what will happen to her body now, that she won’t have a peaceful burial in a beautiful grove or surrounded by her family, makes you nauseous. You had essentially just handed them dinner.

Suddenly, your airways tightened and you couldn’t breathe, the room was too small, too hot. And with a bang, you slammed the water off and ran through the house, ignoring the angry voices that yelled after you as you shut the back door. You don’t care. You need air, now . Outside, you pressed your back against the tree that you early on shared with Thomas, before sliding down it as you feel air returning to your lungs. All you did was breathe for a few minutes, focusing on returning to your senses while staring up into the night sky, counting the stars. As you did, your mind wandered back to your apartment far away from here. Patting your pocket, you smiled slightly as you felt you had your phone with you, and pulled it up. You replied to a few text messages, answered the occasional neglected work emails, and finally opened the gallery app.

Looking through it you realized just how much you actually missed it. It was your home after all. You even missed those neighbors who always had loud hangouts, that old lady who seemed to have more plants than her balcony could fit, and then there was that old divorced man and his cat. That… stupid cat who always forgot where it lived and had ended up in your apartment too many times to count. “Dumbass cat…”, you mumbled as you remembered the first few times it had startled you when you got out of the shower or got home from work and suddenly there was a cat laying on your couch.

Then it hit you.

I should call mom and dad.

Before scrolling through your contacts to find your mom's phone number, you looked at the setting sun and sighed, while figuring out what to tell her exactly, but hoping it would go to voicemail. You took a deep breath as you pressed the green phone symbol. Each dial tone sounded heavier and heavier before you were finally connected to what you had hoped for, voicemail.

"Hey, mom.", you started, straining your voice to sound happy. "It’s me. I just wanted to talk to you, but it seems you're busy."

As usual…

"Uhm… I'm sorry, mom. For everything I've ever said.", you pulled a bit at a loose strand on your shorts, going quiet for a minute. "I love you. And I miss you. Please forgive me."

Ending the call quickly as you felt the telltale sign of tears start to emerge, you pushed your phone back into your pocket and brought your knees up to your chest. Hugging your legs you just sat there, with nothing in particular in mind as you leaned your head on your left knee and closed your eyes.

You didn’t remember actually falling asleep, but what you did remember was being enveloped in strong arms that carried you from a cold night's breeze into warmth, along with faint but angry voices spitting nasty words, and finally ending up laying on something soft. The familiar scent of Thomas’ skin invaded your nose as you nuzzled your face into his pillow. A soft hum escaped you as he laid the cover over you. The floor creaked, and you couldn't hide the tired smile tugging at your lips as the sound of a familiar sigh echoed around the room. Reaching your hand for the giant trying to sneak out, you beckoned him. "Tommy…", he turned. Looking at you from the doorway, his eyes flickered between you on the bed and your outstretched hand. "Come." At first, he shook his head. And turned again to let you sleep alone but stopped when he heard you ask for him again. "Please. I’m cold.", a lie. That's when he caved and closed the door before turning towards you. He loomed over you, his massive form shielding you from everything that went on in this house of terror. Carefully, you reached up behind his head, fingers gliding through his soft hair to search for the fastenings to his mask. Even if he’d had his mask off just hours ago, he seemed just as nervous as earlier when it came to you removing it.

But you loved him, even if he didn’t have a nose.

Tommy sighed in relief as he felt the mask leave his face, and though he still hated being without it, it always felt nice taking it off. He pressed his forehead against yours just to feel close, but couldn’t help to smile as your lips came close to his. "It's okay…", you whispered to him., your low voice sending shivers down his spine, and he nodded.

Looking down at you, he realized how much smaller than him you truly were. He knew his muscles would mean death to you if he ever were to lose control during encounters with trespassers. The mere thought of him not being able to distinguish you from any potential dinner victim and going berserk before you was something that scared him. Scared him to the point of sending a wave of anxiety through him. But now, it wasn’t time to hunt. You were here, laying under him on his dingy bed. The only ray of sunshine in the eternal night that was his cursed life. His heart swelled when he saw your smile as he leaned in to capture your lips with his own and he sighed softly as your hands returned to his hair to pull him closer to you. When he felt your tongue meet his, he hummed in appreciation.

Slowly, Thomas tested the waters. One of his hands slid over the side of your stomach under your tank top, feeling the softness of the skin before letting his hand travel down towards your thigh. He was nervous since he’d never taken initiative with a thing like that before. But you didn't stop him, so he continued. His hand reached your plump thigh, one firm delicious squeeze making you let out a pleased hum into his mouth, a sound he happily swallowed down. He wasn't exactly sure why, but you moaning against his mouth sent chills through his body, which made his cock tingle.

You giggled a bit when he suddenly wrapped the leg, which thigh he was in the middle of groping, around his waist, making it easier for him to snugly fit his hips between your legs. His mouth left yours, traveling down your jawline, his small gentle kisses turned into bigger open-mouthed ones as he got to your neck. Your breathing increased as you felt his tongue slowly drag over that one sensitive spot you had. His whole demeanor changed when you moved to get a better hold of his hair and pulled. As you did, he took your wrists and pinned your arms above your head in an iron grip, not leaving the spot on your neck that he seemed hell-bent leaving a mark on. He nipped at you to test your reaction. You gave him what he wanted and let out a quiet moan, a sound that made him buck his hips into the space between your legs. When he finally lifted his head to look at you, arousal raced through your body because of what you saw.

Normally blue eyes taken over by something dark, hungry, and almost… animalistic. The look his eyes held made need surge through you in a way you hadn’t meant for this to end in. You’d given Thomas a taste of pleasure, and all he wanted now was more. You could see it in those eyes. He wanted more, and he was going to take it. “Oh…”, was all you could say as he rose up, squeezing your wrists once and giving you a look that said, “ Try me. ”. He smirked as you looked at him with those beautiful eyes of yours. Letting your wrists go, his hands moved towards your breasts. A shuddering breath left your lips as his big hands cupped your plush skin, groping your mounds deliciously, before pulling your t-shirt up over them. One thumb came to run slow circles around one nipple, while he kissed his way to the other one. A low moan crept up your throat as you finally felt his tongue drag over the hardening bud.

You answered his action by slowly moving your hips, making your sex rub against his clothed erection. A shiver ran down your spine as you heard him groan against your breast at the friction given to him, a puff of hot air hitting your collarbone. Lifting his head, his eyes met yours, and you could see he was as turned on as you, stare glazed over by lust. "I need you.", you whispered out shakily as you moved your hips again. He smiled, and your heart melted.

Thomas moved his kissing down your body until the bed seemed to run out of length.

Only then did his fingers find the button on your jean shorts, clumsily unbuttoning them as he sat up. As soon as he'd gotten them open, they were thrown away, discarded on the floor somewhere. He took the previously broken leg of yours and put it on his corresponding shoulder, a hand running over it and leaving trails of kisses down to your knee. His other hand, not occupied with anything, found its place on your pubic mound. His thumb landed on your clit, a mischievous grin dancing on his lips as he pressed down firmly once on your sensitive spot. "Ah!", you jerked and he chuckled at your reaction. You just pouted at him before your face relaxed into pleasure, his thumb slowly rubbing in circles while his lips kissed your leg gently.

His digit traveled south and found its way inside your needy hole, the intrusion making you buck your hips to the best of your abilities as you groan. His eyes fixated on your face, the way your brows furrowed, your mouth slightly opened as a symphony of moans and gasps came from your lungs. He loved the sight and sounds you made, they only made him braver. Knowing he made you feel good, only him. That despite him being inexperienced, all his attempts bore fruit.

No matter how much his cock throbbed inside his jeans, or how warm he was starting to feel, he wanted to make you cum before him just like the first time. "T-Tom-Haah! Tommy, I'm-!", sweet sounds left your throat right before he stopped, grinning again as you shot him an annoyed look. "That's mean…", he chuckled in response and shook his head. Thomas suddenly lifted you up with no effort, replacing your body with his own as strong hands firmly grasped either side of your hips. And before you knew it, he had maneuvered you above him. His head takes a dive between your thighs, fingers wrapping around generous amounts of your rear and eyes glinting from below you as he dragged his tongue along the inside of one of your plush thighs, making you gasp. The closer he moved towards your aching cunt, the heavier you started breathing. But right as he was about to rub against you, he stopped. Again, you groaned. "Please stop teasing me, you ass.", you whined. One of his hands came into view and he slowly spelled out two words.

'B' 'e' 'g' 'm' 'e'

You silently did as you were told by sliding closer to his face, but all he did was grab your waist and lifted you away from him, shaking his head. That was not what he wanted. He wanted to hear you beg for him to eat you out. Your voice was low as you shakily gave him what he wanted; "T-Thomas, please. Please, please, please… eat me. " He smirked before slowly dragging his tongue through your folds. Relishing in your taste coating him, he hummed when he felt your thighs tremble against his arms as he held you tight, the countless videos he’d watched on various porn sites of this specific position running on a loop in his head. "Oh my God.", you said as you let your head fall back, a loud "Ah!" coming from you as he found your clit and flicked his tongue firmly against it, your hands coming to rest in his hair. The urge to rotate your hips hit you, though when trying it, you were met with a bruising grip on your hips and glaring blue eyes staring up at you. Silently daring you to move on your own accord, his glare told you that you were not in control. You whimpered at the sight but reluctantly stilled your hips.

You gasped as you noticed his tongue prod and tease your entrance, feeling how he moved it slowly, digging the strong muscle deeper into you.

Below you, Thomas found himself in heaven between your soft thighs as he pulled those sounds he loved hearing from your throat. Sounds he knew only he could cause. When he couldn’t hear them anymore, he only pulled you close to his face. And right there, right then, Thomas enjoyed having no nose, the absence helping him reach far into you. "Ah… To-!", your words are interrupted suddenly, your body jerking before tensing as he finds your clit again, sucking gently on it. "Fff-... Shi-.", you couldn’t form words as he alternated between sucking gingerly and massaging your nub with the flat of his strong muscle and moving his tongue in and out of you.

The coil tightened quickly, almost too quickly. Looking down, you met his eyes, glossed over with hunger and animalistic lust. His firm grip on your thighs kept you seated on his face when you were thrown over the edge in a cry, as he gave one hard suck over your clit. He moaned against you as you clamped your thighs shut around his head, lapping up your orgasm like he was actually starving. He then returned to slowly fuck you with his tongue to let you come down from your high. You panted as you looked down at him, fingers lightly scratching his scalp with a postorgasmic smile plastered on your lips. Thomas grinned as he licked your thigh to catch a stray strand of your arousal.

Shortly after you’d collapsed next to him on the bed, Tommy got up to finally take his own clothes off, his tank top sticky with sweat and the fly of his jeans rubbing uncomfortably against his raging erection. He let out a sigh of relief as his dick was finally released, the front of his boxers moist with precum. The bed dipped under his weight as he returned to position himself between your thighs again, letting your legs rest over his meaty ones. His hands gingerly went up and down your thighs, thumbs rubbing circles as he waited for your signal. His stare revealed his hesitation, wanting nothing more than to push himself into ecstasy, but not having the heart to take something he thinks he wasn’t allowed to. The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt you. His cock throbbed as it lay on top of your mound, and his chest swelled with pride as he saw the evidence of how good his tongue had made you feel as he waited for your approval to take you. You reached down to gingerly take hold of his cock with your soft hands, your fingers rubbing over his sensitive head and coating him with his own arousal. A thumb lightly pressed on his silver barbell, eliciting a throaty groan from him as you looked up to meet his eyes. "Wanna fuck me, baby?", you asked in a sultry voice as you dragged your hands over his length. You saw how a shiver ran through his body as he nodded, instinctively bucking into your hands.

"Take me."

You gasped as his length pressed into your waiting entrance, and you arched off the bed when you felt him bury himself to the hilt in a swift, desperate motion. "Ohh… oh.. God…", you scrambled to find his arms, needing something to hold on to. Tommy breathed out a laugh before hissing in slight pain as he felt your nails dig into his arms. Even with the wetness from both your orgasm and his mouth, it's a stretch. So both of you needed a minute to adjust.

His breathing was hot over your face. An experimental thrust from him had him gritting his teeth, and you digging your nails deeper into his arms. Craning your neck, you got close to his face with a smile on your lips. "I'm fine, Tommy. Take me. " Upon hearing those words, he pressed his lips against yours, the taste of you still on him, just as his hips started to move. He lifted your legs up only to wrap them around his waist, and soon enough the movement of his hips began pummeling your insides. His cock hitting all those right places in your cunt that made you squirm and moan under him. Your mind went blank, not even trying to comprehend how he was able to so easily transform you from a rational being to only a mess of moans and limbs made off putty after only having sex two times. But not a single nerve in your body was complaining about the fact that he could. Incoherent sounds meant to resemble his name tumble from your throat inbetween loud moans. Down there, inside the room within the basement he was so used to dwelling, Tommy didn’t give two shits if his family heard you or not, he just needed to listen to every sound you made.

You yelped as he suddenly switched everything up. your legs were wrapped around his waist, making it easier to pull you up and onto his lap while he positioned himself on his knees. His cock buried deep into you as you clawed at his back, afraid you might float away if you don’t. His hands came to grope your ass, effortlessly holding you up as his strong arms moved you up and down his cock. The wet smacking sound of your soaking thighs hitting his echoed around the room, only adding to your arousal. His movements were deep and hard, hot moans brushing against your neck as he found your sensitive spot and lightly bit down on it. A loud grunt surged from his throat when he felt your cunt clench hard around him as a result from his biting.

He shifted again, pulling his cock out of you to turn you around and prop you on all fours, a position that gave him a perfect view of your ass and the way his dick stretched your pussy out as he re-entered you. Another shiver ran through his spine as a new kind of deeper moan comes from your throat. His large hands gripped your hips to make it easier for him to pull you onto his dick in rhythm with his thrusting. Your moans were muffled by his pillow as tears of pleasure streamed down your face. Your ears managed to capture the occasional deep baritone of “shit”s and “fuck”s coming from above you, causing your eyes to roll back into your skull.

You let out a whine as you felt a hand snake itself south and a pair of big fingers find your clit. His movements were fast, clumsy and almost desperate as he rubbed your most sensitive spot. The added pleasure making it so the coil in your lower belly tightened much faster. As Tommy leaned over you, you were pressed deeper into the mattress when he propped himself up on the hand not occupied with rubbing tight circles around your nerve bundle. A heavy puff of air coming from him made your hair billow exposing the ear he was looking for. His voice was strained and raspy when grunts and moans tumbled from his throat as he felt your walls clench around him.

He swallowed thickly, desperate to wet his parched throat before uttering one single word into your ear, a demand.

“ Cum.”

The delicious combination of his cock pumping in and out of you and his fingers massaging your clit gave you only seconds to fulfill his demand. The orgasm that washed over you was strong enough to make you scream into the pillow as you clamp down on his cock, your hands desperately trying to grab onto the mattress. Above you, Thomas let out a heavy moan that vibrated against your back as he felt the increasing tightness around him, his own orgasm quickly closing in. Four more hard thrusts into your then battered pussy had him gasping, the hand supporting him pressing into the mattress hard enough for his knuckles to turn white before cumming deep inside you. A satisfied hum came from you as you felt his dick twitch and pump his thick seed inside you, delightfully filling you up.

Thomas hissed as he pulled himself out of your throbbing core, then collapsed next to you with huffs and heaves surging from his tired lungs. You slowly slid your legs down to lay flat on your stomach and turned your head to look at him beside you. He had his eyes closed while running a hand through his sweaty brow, trying to catch his breath. You smiled at him and brought your right hand close to his face to stroke his cheek with your index finger. “Hey…”, you whispered, getting close to kiss the scars on his cheek before pressing your forehead to his temple. He hummed in response, signaling that he was listening to you before you continue; “ I think I love you. ” His eyes shot open and he turned his head towards you, eyes filled to the brim with a combination of emotions as they seemed to search for something on your face. Doubt, maybe? Or ridicule? Lies? But all you do is nod and smile again.

One of his hands came up to the back of your head and entangled slightly in your hair as he pulled you in for a kiss. It was soft, full of emotions he either didn't want to say out loud or couldn't. But you knew what it meant.

"I love you too."

You snuggled up against him, taking his right arm between your own, giggling as you felt him stiffen slightly when you pushed it between your breasts. Your hand reached down to lace your fingers in his before letting sleep take you.

You were abruptly woken in the night by screaming voices and hard bangs on the floor above you. Thomas was equally startled awake, and sat up, breathing heavily as he carefully listened.

" Thomas!", you heard Hoyt's voice yelling for your beloved, who reacted quickly. But you grabbed his hand and tried to pull him back to you. "Tommy, don't… please .", you pleaded. He gave you a look you've never seen before. You felt small as if a beast was staring you down with a threatening look that said " Let. Me. Go. ". And it was at that moment you realized you weren’t talking to your Tommy anymore, which scared you. The Thomas you’d fallen asleep with just hours ago is gone. And the Butcher of Texas is all that was left. So you listened. You let go of his hand and watched him dress up, holding your breath to avoid starting a fire within him. And finally, your eyes followed him to the door.

Curling up under the covers again, the bitter realization hit you.

It was your chance to leave, to go back home. The family would be busy with trespassers for a few hours, Hoyt most likely harassing some poor woman, Thomas off to ki-... hunt.

Getting out of bed, you quickly threw your shorts on, internally thanking Tommy for never removing your t-shirt. Even if you knew this meant leaving him for good, the man you just hours ago confessed your love to, it also meant you would most likely live, and a normal life at that. Besides, you could always contact him through the phone, and that thought made it easier for you to sneak up the basement stairs. The sliding door was heavy and screeched as you pushed it open. You heard Thomas' chainsaw roaring from somewhere close by, along with Hoyt's encouraging howls and a blood-curdling scream. You felt nauseous and wanted to puke as you knew what was going on, but tried to cast those thoughts aside while you walked on your path to freedom.

You hurried across the old dining room, but probably due to the fear-fueled trembling of your legs, you curse as you trip over your own feet, attempting to swerve around a puddle of blood. Hissing, you rub the knee that took the brunt of the fall. And when your eyes start to look around for any threats, you see him.

Hoyt. The last person you wished bore witness to your endeavor.

Your fall had seemingly alerted him of your presence. As you stood, you kept your eyes locked on him before noticing the sharp pair of scissors laying on a small side table. And upon grabbing them, you taunt him, adrenaline coursing through your veins. "Come on, old man. You’ve wanted to kill me since I got here!" Before you knew it he was on you. The man knocked you to the floor and straddled your waist while pinning your arms above your head. "He ain't here no more to protect ya, bitch.", he licked his lips as you struggled to get him off you. Seeing him lean in close, you took the opportunity to bash his nose in with your own head, causing him to release your arms to grab it as it gushed out blood. You pushed him off you, straddling him instead. Breathing heavily, you grabbed the scissors in both hands and raised them above you, stretching your entire body to get as much power in your killing blow as possible.

Hoyt grinned as he looked up at you preparing yourself, his tongue reaching out to catch fat drops of crimson dripping from his nose.

Your blood ran cold as ice as a giant shadow fell over you. "To-", a huge hand gripped the main hand holding the scissors. His grasp was tight and you winced as a sickening crunch rings out of your joints before the sharp pain hits you. And you screamed, dropping the scissors. The pain was excruciating as Thomas forcefully lifted you up from his uncle and threw you into a nearby corner. You clutched your broken wrist close to your chest and cried as you watched the predator that has taken over your beloved Thomas slowly walk towards you. Both hands moved to grip his chainsaw. Your breathing started picking up, your heart rate going too many miles per hour and the rushing of blood deafening in your ears.

"Tom- Tommy, please. It’s me!", you pleaded as you saw him pull on the snare to start his weapon. "No… no no no!", behind Thomas you saw Hoyt standing up, hollering words of encouragement to him. "Fucking get her, Thomas!", you shook your head as you sobbed violently, berating yourself. Why did you think trying to kill Hoyt was a good idea? He was Thomas’ family, after all, something you weren’t. Something you would never be.

He pulled the string once, and the saw sputtered, then died. He pulled it again, the same result. He growled and pulled it a third time before realizing it had run out of gas, something you took as a chance to run away. But before you knew it, he'd grasped you by the throat, lifting you up against the wall. You cried out as his grip tightened, your good hand scrambling to grab his wrists in an effort to break free.

"Tommy… p- pleas- hck", he clamped your throat shut, interrupting your begging. Your vision started to blur as the air became sparse, and your nails dug into his arm in a desperate attempt to get Tommy back. Your lungs hurt, your brain was in a blur and your vision started to fade. You focused the last remaining strength you had to look at Tommy in the eyes, his usual sky blue irises now taken over by darkness. Hidden behind sweaty hair and the face of someone else. The last air in your lungs is spent on three words.

" I love you."

Crack.

Thomas watched as the dinner guest fell limp against the wall.

"Good job, boy.", Hoyt patted his shoulder blade. Thomas just grunted and threw the body over his shoulder to head back into the basement to finish his work. This was one of three bodies he had to cut up and he sighed as he knew he wouldn't get any sleep the remaining hours of the night. He grunted as he hung two of them up, saving the freshest one for last since that body hadn't been waiting for as long.

Heavy sighs came from him as he finished preparing to cut up the last body. All he wanted was to get back into bed with you and sleep the remaining hours. The last body was small, something he greatly appreciated because that meant sleep was imminent. Thomas removed his mask after he laid the dead cattle on his table as sweat started to pool and stream down his neck. Lumbering over to a bucket of water, he splashed water over his face to cool down.

When he turned back; his heart stopped, blood turning to ice and nausea rolling over him in big waves before he rushed over to the table. This wasn't a dinner guest or cattle. It… "No…" , he was shaking badly as he put a heavy palm on your cheek. A lump formed in his throat as he looked over your body, running his eyes up and down it, making sure there was no mistake, that he wasn’t hallucinating. You were just here moments ago. With him. Happy. Alive. He pressed two fingers at your neck, searching for a pulse. Tommy panicked when he saw the bruising on your flesh. He'd killed you. In the middle of hunting trespassers. The last thing he remembered from his killing spree was walking into the… the old dining room… and seeing someone sit on top of Hoyt threatening him with something sharp. And then there you were, an unmoving corpse resting before him, right on the same table he had sworn not to put you back on. He couldn’t remember anything else, couldn’t remember even seeing you up on the main floor.

How did all this happen?

But what he did know was that there was no going back. Nothing could bring you back now. He took one of your hands in his while mumbling desperate prayers that you weren’t gone. You were just asleep, and he wanted you to wake up. " Please, wake up..." , he sobbed. You were cold, so cold. Nothing like he remembered you just hours ago. When you'd hugged his arm before falling asleep, your fingers intertwined with his, your breathing even against his shoulder. You were warm then.

Not like the unmoving figure you had become. And he let himself cry, something he hadn’t done in so many years, his eyes burned, another punishment for ending your life. Stroking your cheek, he turned your head so you were facing him. His thumb traced your bottom lip as he thought back on the last kiss he gave you. Tommy has never cried for another person as he did now. You were the first one outside of his family that had shown him tenderness, that felt like home. The first one to show him, love. His rage took you away from him, something he had feared deeply since you set foot in his basement. You were supposed to be his forever. His wife. The mother of his children.

Pressing his forehead to yours, he whispered the words he never got to say earlier. " I love you too."

#Can I See You #CICU #thomas hewitt #thomas leatherface hewitt #thomas hewitt fanfiction #tcm: the beginning #tcm #tcm fanfiction #modern!thomas #ninno og #it's the actual ending #only the epilogue is left now #god i hope you'll like it and i'm so sorry

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bellatrixxue · 3 years

Text

Xue’s Supernatural Dare: Wendigo (S1 EP2)

Hello, everyone? How did everyone feel about the finale? Yes? Yes? Oh. Oh. Oh my. Oh, dear.

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeell that half-assed homophobic chicken-shit fuckbucket’s not gonna stop me, since I strapped myself onto this roller coaster already and I promised I’m not getting out until the ride’s over, so here we go, wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Also, those who are in this roller coaster with me, ready? Tag list is: @fangirlxwritesx67 @amazingiam00 @kalliravenne @indecisive20something @2musiclover2 @impossibletosleepthrough @there-must-be-a-lock @wingedcatninja @arvit

Oh my gods this recap is so cheesy I actually can make a fondue out of it. 2000s, everybody!

A WHOLE MINUTE AND A HALF FOR THAT FONDUE

FUCKJUMPSCARETITLEFUCKYOU

So we’re starting the episode with the murder scene first, eh? Is that gonna be a trend?

Oh come on, Chads, you’re out in nature and you’re playing video games? Absorb the nature...before it absorbs you!

Waitwait. Holy shit is that...is that Cory Monteith? Oh, bless his soul...

If the wendigo eats his dick as he’s peeing I’m immediately giving Jensen Ackles $100. For no real reason, I just feel like giving him money for already carrying the show on his back.

I can’t tell if it did or not, so I’m not paying yet.

Aw, Sammy...

"I should have told you the truth.” *Vine voice* BUT YOU DIDN’T

FUCKYOUINTHEASSHOhnightmare. Nightmare. So did he visit her at her grave or not? I need answers.

A week? Goddamn. Poor thing. That man-eating tree’s fucking good at his job, man.

“There’s nothing there, it’s just...woods,” Sam, I don’t know if Jess’s death hit you hard or if you got into law school by eating some ancient dick and/or pussy instead of earning that high score fair and square, but the woods “in the middle of nowhere” (your words) are known to be one of the top places full of weird-ass creatures. Even kindergartners know that.

Ehehehehehehehehe he’s so smol next to his lil bro my lil shit

At least you’re coming up with decent covers this time. No Agent Mulder and Scully ruining things for you this time around.

“Bull” oop-

Oh Dean’s a smoooooooooth operator. Good going, buddy.

AND HE GOT A COPY OF THAT DOCUMENT TEAM DEAN TEAM DEAN

Oh that death really got to Sam. I hope he doesn’t turn out to be a trigger-happy psycho. Or eat the man-eating tree and become one himself.

Oh, Haley’s a cutie! Which one’s her brother? Cory? Discount Enrique Iglesias?

Do you have a card for EVERY profession, Dean? And how do I get them too?

That is a very pretty car. I bet they wasted half the budget on that thing.

Okay, sonny boy, little bro, Broseidon, calm down.

Ah, fuck, Haley and Broseidon is gonna go into the woods, that’s more heads to worry about.

How the fuck does Sam find information this fast? I’m impressed, I take five hours to get to one article for my research paper. Or maybe I’m just lazy. So he really earned his law school interview without having to eat dick and pussy, huh.

Every 23 years? What is this, Pennywise? Are we going to see the wendigo do his best Tim Curry do his best scary clown impression? Honk honk?

“Whatever that thing is, it can move.” And the sun rises on the East, Sammy. Why are you so smart and dumb at the same time? Is this his character trait? It might grow on me.

Ahhh, so Sam’s go-to move at interrogation is doing puppy dog eyes and sympathize with the person. He’d make a good lawyer, shame that man-eating tree.

Go Grandpa Exposition, go!

Go Grandpa Exposition, go, give us information and none at all!

OH GEEZ THAT SCAR. PENNYWISE WENDIGO IS VICIOUS.

Skinwalker, Back Dog...Ooh, those all sound cool! I hope we get to see them soon!

‘Corporeal’ doesn’t sound like a real word, but then again, English doesn’t sound like a real language. Sorry. Moving on.

Sam’s gonna eat the wendigo with that attitude, Jesus Christ.

AND HIS BROTHER, AT THIS RATE. If the real villain turns out to be inside Sam all along I’m gonna flip. Is that why women keep dying and burning on ceilings where he sleeps? Is he secretly Lucifer’s spawn or something?

“Oh sweetheart I don’t wear shorts”. They queer-coded him from the start and they tried to make you believe he was straight for fifteen seasons straight? And some people bought that?

Oh, crap, another crappy death treatment for Cory before he got into Glee...No, I wasn’t into Glee, I just watched a few episodes and I might hate Rachel Berry...And Lea Michele...ahem...

Dean is totally flirting with Roy shut upppppppp

OOP AND THERE ROY GOES OH THE SEXUAL TENSION IS HIGH IN THESE WOODS TODAY

“It’s probably the most honest I’ve been with a woman. Ever.” See. Bi. Bi bi bi.

So...why the coordinates, Daddy Negan? Is this a portal to Hell? A place where man-eating trees grow?

*carefully places death flag on Roy*

Ooooh the campsite is very...haunted house-y. You know what I’m saying?

That’s not Discount Enrique Iglesias, but Pennywise wendigo, yes? Those things can mimic human voices, right?

*Google searches*...There are so many versions of this tale I can’t even confirm or deny it. Dammit.

Maybe Pennywise wendigo just wants some snacks and a nice phone and GPS? Maybe he misses his family in uh, Canada or something?

Daddy Negan’s journal is a e s t h e t i q u e .

I’m so sorry, but the way Sammy smirks as he speaks with those dark, dark voids for eyes? My boy’s a demon. He’s a demon, I’m telling you.

At least Haley has some sense to her. *puts another death flag on Roy*

*PUTS YET ANOTHER DEATH FLAG ON ROY*

True, that. What the heck is Daddy Negan up to with all of this?

“Saving people, hunting things, the family business!” Okay, the way Dean said it gave me chills.

I can actually empathize with Sam here...As whiny and bitchy as he is, he has his reasons to be this way. I guess if I were in his shoes, I’d be less of a Dean and more of a Sam, too. We deal with our losses quite similarly.

Ah, the brotherly bonding moments like these little talks make the show worth it. It’s so heartwarming.

Pennywise wendigo! I didn’t miss you, why’re you here to burst my happy bubble?

I’m starting to see a slight parallel between Haley and Broseidon and Dean and Sammy. Hmm.

Nice meeting you, Roy. Zoop you go.

Haley and Broseidon are taking this rather well, I’m glad they do.

Okay, actual exposition time, thank you.

Whoa, Broseidon speaks! Donner Party! Please don’t remind me of that! Those poor people!

Hibernation and food storage. Delightful, just delightful.

TORCHING? *CALLS RAMMSTEIN*

Somehow, not being able to see the wendigo is scarier to me than what I will probably see itself. Limited budget horror can actually work well.

Oh, dear, Roy literally did a death drop. Badum tissssssssss.

FUCK IT TOOK DEAN THE ONLY CHARACTER I CARE ABOUImean I love you too, Sam! Come on, let’s find him before it’s too late!

A trail of M&Ms! Yes, Broseidon! And Hansel and Gretel refercalled it. Sammy, you and I share the same wavelength?

SHITSHITTHEYTRIPPEDANDFELLINTHEFUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

Thank the gods the Pennywise wendigo kept them right there. Chances.

DISCOUNT ENRIQUE IGLESIAS IS STILL ALIVE GEEZ BUT ALSO PHEW

Ah, Dean Winchester, I love you so much that I can’t even begin to describe it.

Also how convenient that the flare guns are there. Deus ex machina!

Haley would bode well as a hunter, look at her courage, her will. There are more hunters around than Daddy Negan and the brothers, right?

Yeah, seeing the actual wendigo makes me less scared of it now. It’s unnerving, but still.

TEAM DEAN YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHAW

Graphics are...alright, but it’s the thought that counts!

Running with the grizzly bear story. Smart Broseidon. Ben. Sorry, you deserve to be called by your real name. I think with practice they could become good hunters, along with their Discount Enrique Iglesias brother! Is there a fanfiction for that? Can I write it now?

...

I AM WILLING TO DIE TO PROTECT DEAN WINCHESTER I

Haley’s a lesbian, that’s why she kissed him on the cheek only. Headcanoned. Also I have a crush on her, she’s really pretty? Like? Heart eyes???

Ah, the siblings parallels again. Let’s hope neither of the two brothers end up in the bed like that.

“Man, I hate camping.” Really. Really really. Really.

“I’m driving”

...

SAM WINCHESTER I’M SORRY I EVER SPOKE ILL OF YOU I WILL PROTECT YOU WITH MY LIFE TOO I PROMISE YOU I WILL

It’s just a sassy bisexual brother and his little snide bisexual brother on the road to kill evil creatures and find their father and I love this show? Help? Help???

I really, really see the charm of Supernatural now! I’m fully invested in both brothers and their story, and I’m cheering them both on! Let’s get Daddy Negan back and get rid of that man-eating tree once and for all!

Six stars out of five!

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

This dare is introducing me to a whole new world, and I really, really am glad I took that jump a few days ago, man!

Thank you everyone for reading my ramblings, and I’ll see you in the day after with the next review! Thank you for sticking with me! Buh-bye!

- Xue

#xue's supernatural dare #spn #supernatural #dean winchester #jensen ackles #sam winchester #jared paladecki #text #i had a really bad day today with my constant pain and aching from the chemo #but this really brought genuine smiles to my face!#what a good show #what a wonderful show #how the FUCK did they fuck it up later #well #i guess i'll find out when i get there lmao

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val-aquenta · 3 years

Note

1,2,15,and 22 for the writer asks?

Ooh Yay! Thanks for the ask! Maybe I’m procrastinating writing??? but whatever, this is fun!

1. Is there a favorite character or title you enjoy writing for the most?

heh this is easy. I’m perpetually stuck between Mace, Obi-Wan, Yoda, or Luminara. Yoda I prefer to write as a side character tbh mainly because I want him to be extra grandpa to his fellow Jedi lmao. But yeah, I love writing Obi-Wan because I feel like we’re pretty similar and I can sink into his thought process quite easily which is a plus. Mace is a really fun character to write because I like to balance his emotional/soft side with his more rational, I have to do what is necessary side. Personally I also empathise with Mace a whole bunch because I also have quite a large rational side, which is a plus. I tend to think that he usually knows what he needs to do and he might dislike it, but he will still do it. I just love Mace, okay, and of course I’m overwriting shitty fanon Mace Windu because no he doesn’t hate Anakin, and yes he loves Depa so much that when she didn’t give him a hug he was super depresso. He’s just so sweet, but he knows that sometimes shit has to be done and moping around complaining won’t make anything better. Luminara is just sweet. I want to write so much more for her, but I tend to have her as a side character in my fics (a tragedy I know) but I am working on making her more of a main character is some fics. She’s very much like Mace in that she understands that sometimes to do the right thing, you must sacrifice stuff that you love which is commendable imo. She also loves Barriss very much and I headcanon that she and Obi-Wan are best buds. She and Obi-Wan definitely geek out about the stupidest shit, you can’t change my mind.

2. Is there a least favorite character or title you dislike writing for?

Uhh... typically I tend to avoid characters who I don’t want to write because i find it difficult to write them and not enjoyable. But I’ll share a few for this sake. Palpatine kinda makes me feel slimy when I write him. It can be fun to write crack Palpatine, but realistic trying to write him can be a nightmare for me. I don’t really know how to write manipulative sheev well, so I feel it ends up very much crackfic feelings.

Anakin is also difficult, but sometimes I enjoy the challenge. He can be pretty complex to some, but for me the pain is trying to write his priorities because christ he can’t get them straight at all. Post!aotc Anakin is obviously placing Padmè VERY high (at the top lmao) but not really because if it were that he’d leave the order to be with her. Idk I get very confused writing him. I also feel very apprehensive posting stuff with Anakin because I know a lot of people love him and have somewhat specific (typically fanon) ideas about him and also have very strong feelings about those. I’m not saying you can’t have them, but sometimes I worry that I’ll be attacked because my view on Anakin is far from friendly lmao. Tbh Padmè suffers similarly because I don’t know how to write her without being mean xD. I don’t really understand many of her motivations surrounding the secret marriage and shit and her prioritisation is also strange. I mean the whole ignoring the Tusken massacre basically and only turning from Anakin after Anakin tells his part in breaking the Republic (not listening to Obi-Wan say he killed Jedi) makes it ahrd to sympathise. Fandom has a typically positive view of her and I don’t want to anger anyone with my views, so I try to keep a somewhat ambivalent take with her. I haven’t written anything starring her/them together much so yeah.

I actually like writing Ahsoka because she’s pretty cool, but I’m very nervous posting stuff about her post wrong Jedi arc because I think my views on it are pretty unpopular, and some of her fans are very... vehement about their views which is fine as logn as you’re not trying to invalidate my interpretation you know? Kind of makes me sad since I do love her character, but sometimes her fans put me off.

Idk if this counts but also romance. Personally never really had a great one, so I don’t understand how to properly write it which makes it hard, and I don’t see the draw of it. I tend to both read and write platonic stuff. Lots of gen for me :)

15. What made you start to write fanfiction/stories?

I think @jedimasterbailey said she started writing Luminara stuff/fanfic in general because of the amount of Luminara slander and I kind of do the same but for jedi hate in general. Also, more specifically, Mace Windu hate. It just grinds on my nerves, but I’m not going to sit here and say people can’t write what they do, so yeah I just started writing my own to hopefully inspire others to do the same, or to just shove more pro Jedi shit out there ahaha. I’ve actually gotten a few comments of people saying that my fics have made them like/appreciate Mace a bit more which means a lot since he’s one of my favourite characters.

More than that, thought, I just enjoy fanfic. I had loads of ideas for stories from multiple fandoms and I thought I might start posting some of them because they’re doing nothing just chilling in my drive. Also all the lovely writers of fic in multiple fandoms inspired me, so thanks to you I kind of got the courage to actually upload anything :)

22. Care to share any future WIP ideas you have lined up?

Ooh boy I got loads heheh. But I’ll talk of a few. So I had this idea about a time travel au (I know so original xD) and it was supposed to be Obi-Wan going back in time, but I actually wanted to kind of combine two different ideas, one being Ahsoka as Obi-Wan’s padawan, and a time travel au to one. So yeah... I have a fic in the works about an Ahsoka who travels back right after Vader kills her on Malachor (no Ezra saving her) and who becomes Obi-Wan’s padawan. This one’s a bit in the begining so it will probably be a while before anything’s posted, but if you want to send some kind of help for it I would appreciate a lot. This will probs be my first really longer fic, so I’m worried I’ll lose motivation which is why I’m going to plan it a bit more than most of my other stuff. I’m so excited because the idea has been bouncing around my head for so long!!!

I have another that is much closer to finishing which is a little 5+1 fic about Obi-Wan and the name Ben. I want to change a few things before posting but it should be coming around soon. It’s a little angsty, but mostly fluff.

Last one I’ll talk about, I promise haha. This one is a little uncertain of when I’ll finish because it’s somewhat written out, but the last bit is KILLING me. It’s an essay style writing up of order 66 and the empires rise. Kind of examining public opinion and stuff about it. Basically exploring how the genocide has affected the universe. It is written after the empire falls, so it talks a bit about the shitty Empire and propoganda and is just a pro jedi love letter xD

#long post #ask game

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littlemessyjessi · 3 years

Text

And another thing! Where is the representation of my melanin queens on every day things?! I’m just really upset about alot of fanfiction right now. Like, I don’t get it. I’m using every fucking piece of information that I have gathered from my godmother, an indescribably beautiful melanin goddess, over the years and I’m using it in fucking fanfiction because it’s fucking important. For example:

My godmother, Dana, is a STUNNING black woman. She was there for me when my birth mother would straight up drop me on her doorstep and I would see her for months.

Dana, the queen that she is, is a beacon of light and information.

I had an interesting childhood.

I’m a mixture of a lot ethnicities to be honest and I spent my childhood back and forth between two countries if you want to know the truth about it. But when I was in the USA, I was supposed to spend time with her which lasted for all of about two weeks full of abuse. Looking back, honestly being with Dana is probably what saved me.

Anyway, personally I’m a red head but my curl pattern is somewhere between 4B and 4C. Naturally, it has a tendency to be frizzy and is heavy on the dry side. I have my mother’s hair.

Dana knew this, as she grew up with my mother and actually has a very similiar hair texture. It’s just that her’s is dark. So she knew exactly how to handle me when my mother jumped ship.

And my dad didn’t know how to do that. He’s Serbian and white. Not to mention the fact that he worked all the time over the road trying to provide for his four children. He wasn’t around much but it wasn’t because he didn’t want to be. It’s just that someone had to provide for us and that was him. Side note: All of have different mothers and they’re all crazy. I think he has a type. He didn’t turn them crazy. No, no. They were like that when he met them. I just think he’s a glutton for punishment.

Anyway, the hair. That was a foreign language to him. I mean, he tried but he was hopeless until Dana legit showed him.

This fucking angel introduce me to the bonnet when I was four. Four. To this day, I refused to go to bed without a bonnet.

She also introduced me to protective hair styles and the concept of a damn headwrap. Which is fucking life changing mind you. My cuban fiance, Valentina, bonded over this when we first started talking because she video calls me one morning to talk to me while we were getting ready for our respective days.

Of course, I answer. Still in my pjs, bonnet on my head and slathering myself in shea butter. Again, thank you Dana for your life changing knowledge of shea butter and cocoa butter. I attribute my good skin to you, love. I’m in my late twenties now and honestly I don’t really look any different as to what I did when I was eighteen. Perhaps, it’s genes. But I think it was Dana and her knowledge.

Anyway, we’re sitting there talking and all of a sudden Val just has the biggest smile on her face and I’m like, what?

And she was just like, “I love that you have your bonnet on.”

And I was like, “Uh, ok? Should I not?”

And we got into a whole discussion about it and how it’s viewed.

Listen, if I am deep conditioning my hair I will walk straight out this house with a bonnet on and not give a single fuck. You think I’m playing but I am not. And that’s my point. I don’t know why things like this are looked at differently and I’m sick of it.

What’s even more disgusting is that I would get less looks for it than a black woman. Why? Because regardless of the fact that I actually came out of an extremely deeply darkly skinned woman, I pass as white.

That god damn statement enrages me to my core. The fact that I, someone who passes as white, can do basic things like wear a bonnet or a headwrap and while I may recieve some strange looks here and there..... it’s really nothing.

Whereas a woman of dark complexion has a totally different experience. And that enrages me. I used to lose my temper over it when I was about 10 or so and Dana would take me to the movies on Sundays. That was always deep conditioning day and so we went in our bonnets. And these mother fucking girls would snicker and point and act like fools. I, all 4′11′’ of me, nearly got into a fight with them b/c I have a short fuse on a big bomb. But Dana just pulled me back and told me not to worry about it. But I was upset. Dana is literally one of the most beautiful people I have ever met, inside and out. And I couldn’t understand how someone could be so nasty. We had a talk that day about skin and why it was different. I mean, I knew Dana and I have different colors to us but I never thought much about it to be honest.

She was very honest with me in her experiences and she told me that we were different and even though that shouldn’t make a difference at all, for some people it did.

Cue tiny preteen Kenny going on a fifteen minute rant until she gave me pineapple and tajin and told me to chill out, lol.

Also, if you’re not putting tajin on your pineapple, what are you doing? You’re missing out and I highly reccommend you see to it immediately.

She told me the best thing to do was to ignore them and to just live my life. And I see her point but I also don’t. Because if you always look the other way then nothing changes b/c it just keeps getting swept under the rug.

Dana is a lot nicer than me. And perhaps, she’s smarter b/c she’s older and she just knows more than me. But I will not stand for this!

I realize how ridiculous that may sound but I don’t care. I will call someone out on it in a heartbeat.

I just get heated about things I feel strongly about.

So all this to say that I was listening to this video where a girl was talking about how upset she was about the lack of representation in fanfiction and I was just consumed with anger b/c she’s right!

And I was just so pissed. Poor Val listened to me rant forever before she just called Dana and was like, ‘Please calm down your child.”

Because yes, as far as I’m concerned, Dana is my mother. Not my birth mother.

And, lol, Dana told her, “Just give that little hot cheeto some pineapple and tajin. Or make her some kool aid. She’s just gotta rant for a minute and get it out of her system.”

And Val said, “I tried to give her kool aid. She spazzed out and drank half a pitcher. Now she’s on a sugar high and she’s worse.”

I’m assuming Dana told her to just hand over the phone and she promptly told me to calm down before she came over to deliver an ass whoopin.

And then she asked me what was wrong and so I told her.

And so she said, “Just write the fanfiction how you want it. That’s what you’ve always done. So if you want to see mentions of bonnets in stories, start putting them in. Make it a point to create scenes that specifically give you an opportunity to showcase some of that stuff. Talk about the struggles of finding a foundation that actually matches your skin tone. Talk about wash days and co washes. And for the love of the all mighty, please mention to someone to put some damn lotion on their elbows and knees. I’m tired of seeing these ashy ass people.”

And we talked for quite some time about it and she made me feel better. Like she always does. I didn’t come out of her but Dana has always been my mother. And always been there for me. Always given me the best advice. Always knew just what to say when my emotions wreck me.

So I know a lot of you like my reader content and I’ll continue to do that. I promise. I mostly just do plus size reader. But maybe we’ll include some specific POC plus size reader. I mean, that’s not new for me. I’ve done that before but you get my point. The only way to get passed some of these irritations and unfairness is to normalize it to the point of common knowledge.

And you might be seeing more and more POC OC’s from me. This isn’t new either as I’ve got plenty of them. But you might see an influx lol. Because I’m upset about it and b/c it’s deserved. You know what I mean?

Also, for the love of god, please please please if you are writing reader insert when you are talking about someone blushing... jesus christ, Dana could be embarassed and you’d never know b/c she is literally as dark as a dark chocolate bar. Blush doesn’t show on her skin tone and I can imagine it doesn’t show on a lot of deeper skin tones. It doesn’t on Valentina and she’s cuban caramel candy.

There are other ways. Like heat creeping up the neck or whatever. You know what I mean.

Also, the ‘he ran his fingers through my hair’ bit? Ugh. First of all, with my hair.... I’d like to see them try. Second, don’t. touch. my. hair.

Just saying. There are other ways.

Anyway, thanks for listening.

And Dana, if you’re reading, cause I know you come read my stories sometimes- thank you for listening and giving me good advice. As you always have. I love you and I’m just really thankful you’ve always been there for me and taught me so much. I love you, Mama D.

Love,

Kenny

Also, ya’ll pray for me. I have a whole pitcher of kool aid, that I made so it has way too much sugar in it. And if I can’t calm myself down, Valentina may murder me. And ya girl is trying to get some tonight, lol.

P.S. If she does away with me and you never find my body, someone just tell Idris Elba, Queen Latifah, Sebastian Stan and Aaron Taylor Johnson that I love them and that I died well.

Probably not though.

Valentina is mean. She’d make me die a slow and horrible death.

Like depravation of cuddles and chocolate.

The horror.

Shit, I like her feisty though.

Anyway, I’m rambling.

I love y’all and that’s really all I had to say about the issue lol.

#kenny rants #poc #poc reader #poc oc #poc fanfiction #melanin #melanin queens

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rjalker · 4 years

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I heard somewhere that galahad , rosethorneswrites, angelofthequeers and miraculouslycool are in your blocklist? What happened? That is, if you are okay with talking about it. You don't have to if you don't want to.

Oh, I absolutely have all of them blocked. There are many reasons, and I forget some of the details because I suck at remembering usernames, but Miraculouslycool in particular sent me an ask calling me a “psychotic bitch” and then stalked through my blog harassing me in the notes of multiple posts, called me delusional multiple times, and then after I blocked them, they sent a message to my sideblog, and then when I blocked them on there too (and blocked them on all of my blogs) they created an entirely new blog just so they could keep messaging me.

As for the rest of them? Jesus christ. Let me sum it up by saying they’re all paranoid as shit, into some conspiracy theory bullshit, and they think everyone is out to get them, and anyone who disagrees with them is bullying them, harassing them, attacking them, ect, despite them being the ones instigating the hostilities and also, apparently, anyone who disagrees with them is actually me in disguise.

Yes, you read that right. If someone disagrees with them, they accuse them of being my “sock puppet”.

They accused my twin sister, @shipsallshipshoweverimprobable of being a sockpuppet, and some unfortunate person named Allequa...something. Something along those lines. Unfortunately for allquaahanal whatever their usernames is (I have dyslexia, IDK, it’s something with an A and a Q) the “Clique” as I call them convinced them that I am harassing them and abusing them despite them being the ones sending me multiple ableist and hostile messages.

Also, hilariously, even more hilarious than the idea that I’m some criminal mastermind with a million sockpuppet blogs, they claim that not only do I go around sending people anonymous hate, they also claim that I read Miraculous Ladybug fanfiction on Archive of Our Own, and purposefully seek out fics I know I’m going to hate, and then leave nasty comments on those fics because I don’t like Adrien and don’t ship Adrienette.

Like, idk where the post is now but you could probably search my blog for their urls and find the post that started all of it, where the conversaitons they are having in the replies are just getting more and more fucking absurd.

Like, idk who you are or if you even follow me or how long you’ve been following me, but the idea that I send people anon hate, and purposefully seek out miraculous ladybug fanfiction on archive of our own and leave mean comments is just......

I don’t...I honestly can’t think of a more ridiculous statement you could make about me, except for maybe saying I hate werewolves and think they’re boring.

Like, I hate archive of our own. With a passion. And the only time I read ML fic is if it’s on my dash or someone writes for one of my prompts. I do not seek it out.

Also after Miraculouslycool sent me ableist as shit messages and stalked my blog and quite literally skipped past all my actual critisism of Adrien to find the one post that’s not canon so they could act like none of my arguments or evidence have merit, they then persistantly described the incident to others as a “blog war”, like our actions were in anyway equal.

A blog war implies that we’re both going through eachothers blogs harassing eachother, we’re both sending the other vicious messages, it implies we’re both being equally as hostile.

I blocked them, they sent messages to my other blog, and then when I blocked them there too, they created another blog just to keep messaging me.

And then they’re trying to act like they’re the victim.

Also! They think reverse racism is a thing. They think it’s racist to call Adrien a rich spoiled brat. They think racism against white people is a thing.

Rosethornwrites thinks that Marinette being a victim is, how did they put it? Violating her autonomy? something like that. They think being a victim means you’re worthless and weak and less than human. They think a woman being a victim means she has no worth.

And yes while these people are on my block list, it should be noted that not everyone on my blocklist has done something to me personally. some people are just annoying. But these people? in particular? yeah. They’re assholes.

I mean, you could just scroll through their blogs to find out if you agree with them or not, but yeah.

#Anonymous

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recurring-polynya · 4 years

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Please tell me about Obidala UwU

Ha ha ha, you asked for it.

Okay, for starters, I am bisexual and all my OTPs consist of (1) dude who has basically the same personality as me but I would like to bone and (1) lady who is the sort of person I wish I was, whom I would also like to bone. The dude in a Polynya OTP is generally a member of some sort of strict order (cop, Jedi, shinigami) that he is deeply devoted to. He is super good at his job and works his ass off, but he is always the loyal lieutenant, never the main character and accepts this as his lot in life. He is neurotic. He drinks a lot of coffee, or whatever the appropriate fantasy equivalent is. The lady Goes Hard. She is tough as balls. She usually has a lot of political power and is very smart and will cut a bitch. Her aesthetic is off the chain; enormous, bizarre dresses a plus. I think you can see where I am going with this. Also, Ewan MacGregor and Natalie Portman are two incredibly good-looking people and amazing actors and they absolutely carried the Phantom Menace, which I saw, like, eight times in theaters.

Here is what would have happened if someone had hired me to write Episodes 2 and 3, which no one did, for some reason. So first off, in Episode 1, Amidala is 14, I think, Anakin is 10, and Obi-Wan is.. Jeez, I dunno. 17 maybe? 30? Who knows? Anyway, watch that movie and try to tell me that there is ~ any chance ~ that Amidala would fall for Anakin, especially when there is this hot apprentice Jedi hanging around having this tragic shit go down, and being stoic and oh, no, I’m getting misty. None of this matters. Amidala is the queen, she has shit to do, no time for dumb boys. Anakin is obviously immediately smitten with her, why wouldn’t he be? Okay, now I need, like, an interim episode 1.5, where Obi-Wan is trying to train Anakin, but he’s bad at it because he’s barely graduated himself and he’s really broken up over Qui-Gon’s death and also he’s an order muppet and Anakin is a chaos muppet, but they manage to work shit out and bond and become Force Bros. In fact, they are much more like brothers than having a traditional Master - Padawan relationship, but they are also absolute monsters at fighting together and even though Obi-Wan is still a wet-sock-rules-follower, Anakin is still very “fuck the police”. Cue episode 2, where they meet up with Amidala again. She’s retired from Queening (the rulership system on Naboo is bananas, srsly wtf) and they all go on an adventure. She is beauty, she is grace, she stabs a dude right in the face. The three of them are an absolute wrecking crew. Anakin is smitten all over again, except that Amidala and Obi-Wan have… all this… chemistry. But Obi-Wan is a rules follower, he knows he’s not supposed to fall in love and also, she’s a Galactic Senator, she’s way above his pay grade, and also, his best friend is in love with her, Obi-Wan Would Never. Amidala would definitely like to hit that, but she respects Obi-Wan’s weird morals and also, she cares a lot about both boys and does not want to mess things up between them. Episode ends with my three kids as Nakama with A Lot of Sexual Tension Floating Around.

Episode 3! Episode 3 is the absolute keystone of the Star Wars nonology (is that a word?) and it has to be stunning and the Episode 3 we got is a pile of cat vomit. Anakin needs to be a character that you love and care for and it absolutely breaks your heart when he goes to the dark side. And Palpatine would achieve this by tapping into Anakin’s tendency to hate the rules which is the one major philosophical difference he has with Obi-Wan, and also planting the seeds of the idea that Obi-Wan and Amidala are in love behind his back. Now, Obi-Wan is getting worried about Anakin, and he turns to Amidala, because he feels like she’s the only one who can get through to him. Sheev (Christ, I cannot get over that his name is Sheev) machinates things so that Anakin catches them “sneaking around behind his back” and the thing is, they haven’t been doing anything aside from trying to help him, except the fact is, they are actually in love and Anakin has basically already known this, and he has also always known that in some ways, he is the one who has stood in the way of his best friends being together and also he has a lot of Trauma and our boy loses his shit and takes a one-way trip to the Dark Side. I honestly never worked out what happened after that, but ngl, I feel like “hey, Luke, Vader wasn’t actually your dad after all” would have been a pretty amazing plot twist for Ep 5.

Is this the fanfiction I wrote? No. It is not. My sis and I had a series of stories where Anakin was having trouble fitting in at the Temple, and Obi-Wan gets special permission to take him off to some backwater planet to train him by themselves. It was basically a bunch of Obi-Wan is A Shitty Single Dad stories, featuring such gems as Anakin Joins a Boy Scout Troop and They Go Camping (Obi-Wan throws one of the other dads’ cell phones in a lake?) and Anakin Tries to Surreptitiously Pod-Race Without Obi-Wan Finding Out and oh God, there was one where they had to go back to the Temple for some sort of Padawan Talent Show featuring all of Obi-Wan’s friends who are now grown up and have their own apprentices? Eventually, we get to my masterpiece, where Amidala sends some letters to Obi-Wan and Anakin, and Anakin misinterprets something she says and thinks she’s gotten roped into an Arranged Marriage and feeling that Obi-Wan would not take this seriously enough, runs away to go save her. Obi-Wan, who is so, so tired, has to chase after him, and shortly after he gets to Naboo, Amidala actually does get roped into a political marriage with this absolute buffoon who was vaguely based on Kuno Tatewaki from Ranma ½. Hilarity, as one might expect, ensues. But, wait! There’s more! Close to the end of the story, Anakin has to run off and get the dude’s parents who have not at all approved this marriage and he tells Obi-Wan he has to stall the wedding. Obi-Wan blows this super hard by declaring, in a long, rambling fashion, that Amidala can’t marry this other guy, because he, Obi-Wan is in love with her. I then wrote a sequel, where this awful prince tries to get married to someone else. All these rich, royal people think that Amidala and Obi-Wan are together (and that they are super cute) so they decide they have to have a loud public break-up, except that someone straight-up gets murdered and then they have to solve the murder mystery and the whole time Anakin is wandering around going “can you guys please break up already?” Anyway, the bride turned out to be involved in the murder, so, once again, this bonehead prince has failed to get married, although somewhere along the line, he fell in love with one of Amidala’s handmaidens (I should note, the handmaidens in these stories are major characters and utter agents of chaos). Anyway, I got halfway through the third story in this series as well, where the prince and Amidala’s handmaiden get married, and Obi-Wan and Amidala try once again to break up and then are like “What if we… didn’t?” and I never finished it. I still have it around her somewhere. I am pretty sure all this nonsense is still floating around the internet… somewhere, but it was 19-friggin-99, so it’s got my real (maiden) name on it ::face palm:: so I’m not posting a link. If you deeply feel the need to read any of this nonsense (and I tell you, you do not), DM me.

The moral of this story is that I am still writing the same gonzo comedy-of-errors stories I wrote when I was eighteen, when I get around to re-writing WDKALY, you jerks are in for it.

#asks #my ideas are good #obidala #obi-wan kenobi #padme amidala #my sordid past

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mariabumby · 5 years

Text

Occult Concepts you might have missed in Good Omens

Nah, I get it, we’re ethereal not occult. But you’d be lying to yourself truly, if you said you weren’t interested in the occultism, philosophy daresay ontology presented in the Show in the Good Omens. And in case you haven’t stared in the bath shower and deeply and meaningfully assessed the concepts underlying your favorite apocalyptic romp. Then I’m Here to Do that for you.

Ofcourse you obviously should have watched the show.

Ready?

As you’ll ever be.

1. Choice is part of Humanity

It all started and ended with a garden. The two main characters being the ones who… hmm godfathered this aspect of humanity.

Crowley, the snake, who tempted people to first ever know what good and bad is. And Aziraphale – an angel who either let, or was incompetent enough to let it happen. Didn’t even try to smite the first two humans or the demon Crowley. Just this awkward fumbling on top of a garden wall with an impending storm.

This is repeated again by the angel when he is reprimanded by the archangels – it is not for “us” (angelic realm) to decide – the humans have free will to decide good and bad.

And in the whole course of the story – these two almost eternal entities have “gone native”. Or acted more human. Liked sushi, liked wine, and bentleys and music.

And Made their Own Decisions.

Especially for Aziraphale, who disobeyed orders for the first time in his really long life. It was uncalled for, an act of “treason”. Crowley by the end even said “i think the big one will be “all of us” vs “all of them”“referring to all of humanity vs heaven and hell.

He referred to himself as human. He’s choosing to be human, by the end of the story. Just as much as Aziraphale redefined himself by exploring who he is outside of the angelic box, Crowley has been since the beginning was quite intent with being a lousy demon anyway.

Yes he did tempting. But he is so gloriously an incompetent demon. And as etheric beings, these two are very relatable to the audience, acting as main characters and the main POV that the audience lives through. And they’re not cold or of higher existence (like some angel channellings). They’re so delectably human. Not because this is a piece of fiction, because the whole argument is:

They want to be human. They like their choices, no matter what the consequences.

Which is echoed by adam by the end, who reckoned any apple was worth eating and worth the consequences. And by what manner is this occult?

Well in Ken Wilber’s model of consciousnesses, the difference of humans from other living beings — what separates us from vegetable, animal and sky is our capacity to define itself. Meaning tomatoes more or less tomatoes. But humans have an almost infinite limit on being anything. They define themselves – that is our nature.

Our Choice is our humanity.

And as much we kind of hate out existence a lot of times, it’s really refreshing to see near immortals liking and even being jealous of the way we exist. Of what would be the shaded echoes of our flailing in “who am i” and so forth…

2. There’s Good in Evil, there’s Bad in Good

Or otherwise known as paradoxes and koans being the underlying fiber of all of reality… say what?In every creation lies destruction. In every delusion reality. In every push a pull. In every death a birth, in every order there is chaos.

Two sides of the same coin. Or in taoism would be the yin yang symbol.

Meaning, Good Omens doesn’t just argue against moral dogmatism…

Good Omens, if you look hard enough, is saying opposites dance inside of each other. All. the damn. time.

The two characters are literally sworn enemies (angel vs demon) who find allyship. The destroyer of worlds is the one who saves it (adam). The major screw-up that made everything start aren’t even necessarily people being bad or good but people being people.

Which really argues not for a moral gray area but an acceptance that we’re paradoxically both all the time depending from which way you’re looking and interpreting. Meaning it’s a mess, it’s crazy, partly why it’s so ineffable, and that maybe we shouldn’t be so stuck up thinking so highly of ourselves.

How is this occult? Well. You’ve ever heard of shadow work? Chaos Magick and Sigils? Have you ever actually met occultists who unironically summon demons with a dagger and a cup and spill their own blood whole shebang?

I have. I even fell in love with one. But the point of the matter is, that this logic isn’t some cutesy theme for your supernatural romp. It is an actual force of nature harnessed by actually living witches and mages. Meaning the dark – the things you’re afraid of facing, what lies in your subconscious, the forces of destruction, bad luck and curses — it all operates under that assumption.

That it is the half of the coin of existence. That as much as we hate to face our traumas, that some people would get triggered and regressed and spiral to really hellish shit – the treasures you seek are in the cave you’re most afraid of. Or the demon you’re most afraid of. Or the scar you’re most horrified to feel because you think it will eat you alive.

A lot of occult work is mastering your demons- your self, your fears. Utilising fear to your own advantage, acknowledging it, dancing with it. And gaining greater awareness.

And recognising they’re you’re best friend and they’re looking out for you. Kind of like how Crowley undoes Aziraphale and allows him to walk into what he most fears. Betraying heaven. Through, well.. Love which is the unconditional empty space which allows the two opposites to play. Or leela, in yoga.

3. What the demon Crowley has, is the power of the imagination.

The story is not short of law of attraction moments. Or let’s just say the whole operation of how things come into being with a human boy having no upper limit of choosing how things should be.

Should I remind you, both the anti-christ and christ came here to be human? What is this facet of human being that these supernatural forces might want?

Oh right I talked about (1) already.

Anyway, take it from me your friendly neighborhood actual witch that is Magick. Old School Magick, simply willing things to existence. And I’m actually seriously happy with how occultic-ly consistent this entire series is?

It’s even, loving?? with the usual topics that cover any good wiccan new age enthusiasts in how it depicts Anathema and atlantis and the fascination with peace loving aliens. Which leads me to another paradox which I’ll write as (3.5)

3.5 It is written.

Paradoxically [2] you both have Choice [1] and Destiny [3.5] coexisting in your narrative.

Every rebelling that Crowley and Aziraphale did that was against their etheric nature was written in Agnes’ Nutter’s book. It was both a choice and destiny.

Even Anathema who was loyal to her family’s prophecies and takes pride in being a witch, burned the next prophecies of Agnes Nutter not wanting to be just a descendant. Another choice, or maybe just another destiny.

Aziraphale and Crowley themselves comment on this in the bench waiting for a bus to come asking – what if this was part of her divine plan? What if all this choosing and fighting was planned too?

And they only answer — who knows? What if they’re the same thing?

As much as I seriously adore the #ineffablehusbands, I also adore how deep into the occult philosophical rabbit hole you can get in terms of duality and what it means to be human with this giant ass story. Which is also handled so well by so many of the fandom’s art and fanfiction in AUs and interpretations of demon!Crowley and angel!aziraphale as humans or in their post-apocalyptic humanly existence may it be cottage or bench.

How do humans judge themselves to be unforgivable? In how many viewers is --an Aziraphale who can only think of themself as this “good” or as a Crowley who can only think of themself as “forsaken”?

How are we paradoxical and human? How can this be an okay thing to be? Something left to be desired by our favorite demon and angel?

Good Omens is hopeful. It’s underlying beliefs, are beautiful, loving and yeaaaa occult. A+ from this witch right ere.

Here’s my occult esoteric blog if ya’ll curious:

https://wanwuspiritlibrary.com/start-here/

#ineffable husbands #good omens #neil gaiman #crowley #aziraphale #occultism #occult #good omens spoilers #david tennant #michael sheen #terry pratchett #good omens analysis #occultAF #here's my essay writing contest entry yall better read it

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caligobeltrao · 4 years

Note

I for one would love 2 hear ur thoughts on the hannibal novel 👀👀 - bloodybrahms ☺

ahhh thank you BB!! <3 I’m gonna throw it under a cut bc I know people aren’t gonna want my ramblings clogging up their dash lol.

Edit after I’ve written it: Holy shit this turned into a monster but tbf I did say I was going to rant. I think I miss writing college essays...

Also, I would like to note bc I’m about to bitch, I do still love Hannibal and Clarice and all of the franchise. Hell, I even love book Hannibal because I’m garbage and want to be special. So yeah. It’s a fond bitching.

Okay where to fuckin begin man... This novel was a fucking Shit Show, my dudes. It was like baby’s first fanfiction.

Let’s just jump in, shall we?

So by now, having read both Red Dragon and Silence of the Lambs, I know Harris injects of lot of sexual shit into his novels, fine whatever, but the amount of pedophilia is insane. Like, Red Dragon with the grandmother threatening to cut his dick off by holding it in between scissors????? And then we have Mason Verger, worst human on the planet. Like jfc I’ll go into him specifically more later but just. Men. Why does it always have to be sexual.

Like that time Clarice wasn’t wearing a bra and she wanted to prove to Paul Krendler she wasn’t wearing a wire so she flashed him her tits?? Unnecessary, Harris. Bullshit on all counts.

Next, poor Ardelia Mapp. So he clearly wrote out her accent in Silence, which frankly reads racist since to me it seemed like he did it every time a character of color was met but he didn’t for Clarice’s Southern accent except for this book when she was talking to Ardelia. Now, that’d be a cool way to show how close they are, sure, but it just... She didn’t show up enough to warrant that reaction from me, plus all the other casually racist shit he throws in.

Ardelia’s literally there as the wise Black best friend to help Clarice along. She doesn’t feel like her own character, she’s only there in conjunction with her, or doing something for her. She was the fucking valedictorian for Christ fucking sake, she also works at the Bureau but if her department was mentioned it was only once in passing. She was not a full character which fucking blows because she could’ve been so cool.

And real quick before I forget, I hate how she’s treated in the end. I do like she gets a reference and that brainwashed Clarice sent her an emerald ring and a note saying she was okay, but Ardelia was abandoned by her best friend (that she had lived with) with not even a phone call and they will never see each other again and I think Ardelia knows it. It sucks and I’m heartbroken for this woman.

I’m gonna touch a little bit on the racism too. Now I’m white and not the most qualified to talk about this shit, but I do wanna mention it because it makes me mad. There’s just so many unnecessary slurs, any POC is more of a background helper character to Clarice than anything or a foil.

For example, Evelda Drumgo. She starts us off. Badass Black woman who runs a drug cartel. She chooses to shoot at Clarice and risk her baby’s life, and we have Clarice wash the baby off and save his life. Then Evelda’s mother is written as irrational when she slaps Clarice for visiting the baby in the hospital; I get Clarice’s impulse, but that woman just lost her daughter because Clarice killed her. I would’ve slapped Clarice too, even if it was a totally justifiable shot.

The baby himself is used as a foil throughout other parts, most notably to me when Clarice goes to visit Mason the first time. There are two Black boys from a foster home playing in a room with a camera so Mason can watch them, and it shakes Clarice up a lil bit because of the baby, but it says she’s getting more used to it.

Now this is half and half well written and shoddy to me. It’d be a cool moment, if the whole incident wasn’t nearly completely forgotten for the rest of the book shortly afterword. It could show growth, if Clarice had any growth to show.

And then the Romani people who are literally just used and thrown away. Sickening. Also very broadly used the stereotypes we hear which Sucks; the three we meet in any sort of depth are pickpockets, one was already in jail and Pazzi used his leverage as a police officer to get her to do what he wanted and threatened to have her baby taken away from her permanently, like it was just bad. And then the man got killed. Pazzi let him bleed out. Asshole.

The slurs. I could take out all of them and pretty much have the same damn thing. Like I get showing negative aspects of characters and just because a character’s racist doesn’t mean the author is, but with the characters already being as shitty as they are, fully didn’t need it to make them worse. Entirely unnecessary. Racism or the character being racist has no impact on the plot is the major thing, I think. And you can replace that with anything along those lines, like sexist, homophobic, transphobic. It didn’t impact the plot, they can still be shitty, you just don’t need to use them.

This also goes in reference to Margot being a lesbian. And the transphobia holy shit, it was disgusting. Harris had Clarice think something so cruel and unnecessary it’s like my guy why was that even remotely something we needed to hear. We didn’t. I wanted to stop reading because that’s not my Clarice, first and foremost, and second, this is supposed to be the character we LIKE. And now I don’t like ANYBODY in this damn book.

And he treats Margot like shit too, and Barney.

Their friendship was beautiful and great and finally for once something nice was happening in Margot’s life and I was happy reading it, and then FOR SOME REASON Margot goes to shower in the same room as Barney after a workout, which makes no sense, and then Barney tries to force a kiss on her (and he was hard, Harris made that very clear) and she had been sexually assaulted by Mason her brother and ruin the whole damn thing and none of it would have changed any other piece of the novel if you removed it!!!!!!!!! Entirely unnecessary!!!!!! And Barney had the gall to say well I couldn’t help myself like none of that was realistic in the slightest, she never would have went in the same room to shower with him.

Something you need to do is basically get some suspension of disbelief from your reader and maintain and stretch that as you go, right? Well mine was gone at that moment.

Also side note Margot is basically just there to show how shitty Mason is for the umpteenth time. Her whole thing is lesbian sexual assault victim.

Also heavily implied she was a lesbian because of the sexual assault. And we rarely see Judy, her girlfriend, so. Bad. Bad all around.

Circling back around to Clarice and how disappointing she is in the books as compared to the movies. Well, Clarice is also a poorly written character. She’s 1000x better in the movie. Hell, she’s even better in this book than she was in Silence, but that’s not fucking hard.

Pretty much all the characters are so flat they don’t even classify as two dimensional.

Like sure, maybe we wanna say Clarice didn’t really solve much in the first book and was just handed everything because she was a trainee and that’s what Hannibal wanted.

Like if you remember the John Mulaney sketch of Delta Airlines where he’s just going “Okay!” and running to the next place he’s told, that’s Clarice.

Okay so why does she get goaded into all this shit now? She should know better. She should know how to handle herself better. Like she messes up basic fucking shit like clearing a room before untying Hannibal, which was stupid, she seems oblivious to some of the politics at work even though she’s been in the FBI for like 7 years now, she would at least have more fucking contacts than Brigham who died in the beginning and Jack Crawford who died at the end by rolling over in his bed to his dead wife’s side and Ardelia who would be near the same level as Clarice I guess but I still don’t know her damn department???? Like you fucking network.

Plus after her final fall from grace with the FBI, we meet or are told of random side characters that go no where and do nothing just to say “hey look at my special little girl, everyone likes her and looks up to her!!” Why? Because she caught Buffalo Bill 7 years ago and then never got a promotion or even worked with the BAU? Again, it does not make sense. People may pity her? But a random girl in the lab wouldn’t be fangirling. Starling herself said her career had gone nowhere because of the politics and not sleeping with Paul. You need to show me why she’s likable in her actions not others words.

We spend more time away from her than with her anyways but Jesus.

AND HER IN THE ENDING. She was fucking BRAINWASHED????? Bull FUCKING SHIT. He completely ruined anything he even remotely might’ve had in this cluster fuck of a novel.

Case in point, difference from the movie, Hannibal spends weeks (possibly? it’s left purposefully vague and I’m guessing that’s because Harris didn’t know the ins and outs and wanted his novel done) meticulously brainwashing Clarice, he had stolen her father’s bones and she’s so far gone at that point she doesn’t care, and the whole scene where Paul is getting his brain eaten? Yeah, she happily indulges and when he insults her, she asks Hannibal for more. Fuck you, Thomas Harris.

And Hannibal’s a Gary Stu, fucking fight me.

In the movie he either is or he’s tap dancing on that line, don’t get me wrong, but in the novels it’s insufferable because it doesn’t seem earned. The pigs didn’t attack him because they didn’t smell fear on him. No. He’s easily able to drug and brainwash Clarice and take her as his lover. No. Go away. He’s so smart and one step ahead and can manipulate anyone and everyone into doing what he wants and blah blah blah shut up! A character being perfect isn’t interesting even if he’s evil!! We all know he’s never truly in danger because of how Harris writes him and that’s boring!!

And I personally have a pet peeve where the villain is described as a monster or unstoppable. That’s boring and I no longer care about your story. I know 9 times out of 10 your main character is going to find a bullshit way around the impossible and kill it. Or it’s just like a default personality and nothing else is added to it. And that’s Hannibal.

I’m on Hannibal Rising now and, spoiler alert, he’s very bland as a character. (Also Harris switched some details in the novel which kinda annoys me like get your own canon right my man but whatever.) The plot itself is pretty fun? I guess? Like there’s action and stuff and I’m enjoying that. But it’s the same set up where Harris’s Gary Stu always wins, like he was 13 in the book when he killed the butcher. Let. Your. Characters. Lose.

Also even more racist shit but what did I expect really.

Anyways, I have no idea who I’m supposed to root for in the novel because all the characters are just kinda shitty. It really just boils down to Harris not showing any redeeming qualities or actions from any of his characters. I liked Margot for a while out of spite but she never really went anywhere and the way she killed Mason (btw she sodomized him with a cattle prod to get his semen bc side plot and then stuffed his Moray eel down his throat and somehow I still don’t think that’s the worst part of the novel) just. No thanks really.

All the random little side plots were also pretty not great. How many time does Harris have to say Pazzi of the Pazzis? Like I fucking get what you’re going for, even if I hadn’t watched the movie I’d be like, “Oh this dude’s gonna get hung outta that window, dope,” the literal first time. Stop treating your readers like idiots.

And then Margot’s side plot was that the will their father left said she needed a biological heir to inherit because he was pissed she’s gay and we needed the homophobia I guess, so Mason got everything, and she was helping him with the Hannibal shit because he’s pretty incapacitated duh, and in return he would give her his jizz so Judy could be artificially inseminated and they could have a child and get some of her inheritance. I don’t care. It was all very gross, and Mason kept saying shit like suck me off you’ve done it before, I won’t be able to feel it anyway, maybe Judy’ll suck me off you think she’d like that. It’s all gross.

And I guess this is a good a time as any to finally start on Mason. So a great rule of writing to make everything work better and give your story more depth is to give everyone both positive and negative traits right, even and especially the bad guys? Like, rules can always be broken if you’re a good enough writer, but I believe I have established that Harris isn’t quite there yet, to put it nicer than I have.

Mason is one bad trait after another. It’s like when Harris was bored of constantly writing about plain ole pedophilia, he threw a dart at a board of horrible things and landed on topics such as: pedophilia but make it incest, extreme sadism, sadism but against children now, and good old fashioned racism! Fucking Cordell was supposed to collect the children’s tears after Mason would make them cry and put them in martinis for him. Realism went out the goddamn door real fast with this novel y’all. Like a fucking Scooby Doo villain over here.

And he loves talking about being a sadistic pedophile, he will literally not shut up about it to Clarice when she first gets there telling her about his trip to Africa and this portable guillotine he has and just. I get it was probably like trying to make her uncomfortable on purpose because he’s a Freak, but it went way too far if only because it was annoying, not even uncomfortable for me as a reader. I was bored real quick. Get to the shit I actually wanna know.

And it sucks because of the weird, over-the-top way of how he died, I got zero satisfaction from his death. I couldn’t even be like, “Well at least Margot got her revenge,” because that’s not how she originally wanted to kill him!!! She wanted someone else to extract his semen for the insemination but couldn’t find anybody to do it for her, and then Hannibal, whilst tied up, said use a cattle prod and you won’t have to touch him and when you kill him you can blame it on me, and I’m pretty sure even if she hit his prostate right every time and he COULD cum from that alone in addition to how his body is Fucked Up now, it would’ve been a lengthy, gross, and re-traumatizing experience for her because all she wanted to do was avoid seeing and touching her brother’s private parts again, which I think is a totally fair and rational desire.

So I have to live with the fact that she was desperate enough to not lose the house and business because of her homophobic father to go through her childhood trauma again. There’s no place in this book that has a somewhat positive conclusion.

Even the very last bit where Barney has a girlfriend and a ton of cash from Margot, all he wants to do is see every Vermeer in the world right? Well, because Hannibal and Clarice are in Buenos Aires where one of them is on display, Barney gets spooked and has him and his girlfriend leave before he can see it and it ends that bit with he never got to see it ever so he didn’t even complete his dream!!!

Also for good measure, Harris throws in that Hannibal and Clarice enjoy having sex regularly. For no reason. Just letting us know.

I know this seemed like just a bitch fest, because it was, but I kinda sorta enjoyed it? It kept my attention at the very least. It’s really disappointing because like I said, I love the movies, all of them, and have since I was little. To see the original not stand up to that image in my mind is a little heartbreaking. Especially Clarice. She was a strong female role model to me, but turns out she’s... just kinda there. And her ending is that of her no longer being herself and getting that agency taken away from her.

There is a reference to her waking up from a sleep, if she is asleep (that’s kind of how he worded it), that kinda let us draw our conclusions on whether she was just brainwashed into being good for him or if she was willingly going along with this and was in love with him I guess and it felt like a slap in the face. She turned from a hardworking, modest country girl working her way up to the FBI into a female Hannibal. Which on the surface sounds kinda cool because we love luxe serial killers, but that’s not what she wanted or who she was set up to be. And to insinuate that she would even remotely consider choosing that path for herself is at its best an insult to her and at its worst a complete erasure of her background, what little character Harris did set up. It also completely erases my own connections to her, as a girl from a small town myself who has bigger dreams than this and also... a good, strong set of morals. He just tossed that out the window.

Obviously if you’re on this blog, you like slasher x reader shit, and this is a novel with a slasher x a person, right? So why am I so mad about it? Because the whole point of this blog and reader insert fanfiction in general is that you are taken as you are and loved wholly as yourself and that you are worthy of that love (in a fictional setting, not really loving people who are like this, which I think we understand but I want to clarify). She was not taken as she was. He is not in love with her, she is not in love with him. She was transformed into what he wanted out of her. He couldn’t get her to be Mischa, his first plan, so he made her like himself. And the fact that he was so easily able to do it makes me upset, and even more so is that it’s not written like it’s weird or wrong. It’s written like they’re in love and this is a good thing.

He may have been going for the classic “everyone is capable of doing bad things” stuff we see a lot, but we got that from Margot already. And Barney, for stealing Lecter’s stuff and selling it. And Paul, and the entire FBI for turning on Clarice, and the kidnappers, and Pazzi, and random shitty side characters. And none of it was particularly well written or made some sort of strong statement. It just was. And that’s not a good enough basis for a novel.

Anyways, if you made it this far holy shit you’re a saint and I love you, let’s be friends?? <3 Have a good day y’all, thank you BB for giving me permission to ramble.

#bloodybrahms #ask #no joke i spent like 5-6 hours total writing this i had a Lot to say

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cilliansaccent · 4 years

Text

Class of Temptation - CHAPTER TEN

Leave a like, reblog or comment below to show your support and love! Enjoy…

PLEASE READ:

No mention of Cillian’s true family or relatives. All names are made up.

This is a TEACHER x STUDENT fanfiction, it’s going to be kinky and very taboo!

I will write whenever the mood grabs me, so I apologise if there are long breaks between chapters :)

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Background: Tessa is a twenty-three-year-old model from a broken-up family, living in London with her best friend and starting a course on Drama and Theatre. Though, when she gets closer to the super hot Mr Murphy who is her much older teacher, there is a battle of lust and love between them. They’ll have to figure out what to do with their tight relationship as other issues begin to rise and nip at their heels…

Word Count: 5,452

!!Warnings!!: Major sex scene at the end!

Chapter Name: Princess

Brief Chapter Outline: A new week starts and Tessa spends another afternoon with Cillian, her feelings wild for the man as she realises that this won’t go away. The day ends with Elijah and some very passionate exchange...

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Tessa walked up to her Uni after she had driven here. It was a first after a long time that she got to drive, Esther had to use her car most of the time when she had to travel around London and outside of it. Which was fine, but when it was raining, Tessa didn't like to walk from the station to her class. She always got drenched.

She shook her umbrella before tucking it into its sleeve and putting it back into her bag. She had half an hour to get to class but she didn't want to go in first. Not after what happened yesterday with Cillian... Fuck, she had a night. She really couldn't get him out of her mind. All she could think was of him, his hands roaming along her body, his hips parting her legs to make room and a single thrust into her which she knew would make her back arch...

"Fuck! Watch where you are going!" Sofia yelled as she dropped her books on the floor.

"You are so stupid! What the fuck!" Camila, Sofia's second in command, shoved Tessa against the wall.

"Sorry!" Tessa let out a gasp as her back came into contact with the hard wall.

"Sorry isn't enough, bitch." Victoria chimed in, Luna and Layla circled in.

"Whatever, I gotta go." Tessa tried to shove through but she was pushed back.

"Not so fast. You need to fucking pay up, whore." Sofia was all up in her face. "How much you carrying, huh? Let's see." Sofia went to reach for Tessa's bag to take her wallet but Tessa was not having it.

She shoved her hand away, "Fuck off. I am not giving you my money anymore."

"Oh? You getting all tough now, huh?" Sofia moved closer, almost chest to chest.

"Yeah. I've had enough of this shit. I don't even know why you need money, it's clear you got enough. So move the fuck away so I can go." Tessa went to shove her but she was pushed back again.

She let out a gasp again, the force was harsh and she felt a painful sting in her shoulders, "You have no right to talk to me like that." Sofia grabbed her by the hair, yanking her back.

The worst thing was in this part of the hallway, no one really came by. It had very small, private rooms students would rent out and at this early hour, no one was here. Fuck.

"You are nothing here. Just another whore. You don't own anything." Sofia snarled as she yanked Tessa's bag and gave it to Camila who riffled through it.

Tessa hated that word. Whore. It made her angry and she pushed Sofia back by using her hands against her face, "Get the fuck off me! Jesus Christ!" She struggled as the hold in her hair only tightened.

"You can't tell me what to do bitch! Hold her down!" Sofia had let her go as Camila and Victoria grabbed Tessa's arms and held her back.

"You are so gonna pay," Sofia balled up her fist and made to-

"HEY! What the fuck is going on?!" Elijah's angry growl cut through the group and the girls jumped back.

"Oh get lost, Elijah. We're only teaching your little toy here a lesson." Sofia rolled her eyes as he came over.

"Fuck out of here, you really are such a bitch." He grabbed Tessa's bag, staring down at the brown-haired woman.

"Whatever. I'd recommend not being with this slut. God knows what she's been up to all week in that hotel room with all those other people." Sofia scoffed as the girls walked away leaving them be.

Tessa was shaken up, hugging herself as she leaned against the wall. Her eyes were wide as tears streamed down her face.

"Jesus." Elijah set her bag down and gently cupped her face, "Tess. Hey, look at me." He said with a gentle voice, bringing her pretty eyes upwards. "Let's go and report them for this. This is not right."

"No, Elijah. I don't want to." She shook her head, wiping her tears quickly.

"Why not? They are literally tormenting you." He frowned, shocked to hear that.

"Just- No. I can deal with this. Please." She picked up her bag and the other cotton one that had the clothes Cillian had offered to her.

Elijah's shoulders sagged, but he sighed, "Fine. Fine." His hands were on her shoulders before he pulled her in for a hug.

Tessa welcomed the hug and wrapped her arms around him, his strong body enveloping hers. She was warm, "I know you want to help, Elijah. But I want to do this on my own."

"But she was going to hit you, I can't allow that to slide." Elijah murmured.

She glanced up, "Let it slide. I will deal with this." She said with a stern voice, giving him a look to make it as she meant it.

His lips were a thin line, "Okay. I trust you." He said but he would make sure to keep an eye out for her. "Can I ask you something?"

She nodded as they began to walk together, "Go ahead."

"Could we go out tonight? Like dinner?" He asked her.

"Dinner?" She raised her brows as she looked up at the handsome man.

"Yeah. I could pick you up at seven?" He looked hopeful.

She laughed lightly, "Okay. Sure. Seven it is. May I know where it is?"

He grinned, "Nope. It's a secret." He said.

She rolled her eyes, "Okay. I'll be ready by then."

"Sweet. I best let you go then. Meet up for lunch too?"

Tessa thought for a moment, "Yeah. Come back here and we can go together." She said before she leaned up and kissed his cheek. "Thanks, Elijah." She smiled sweetly and ducked into her classroom, leaving him blushing red.

Julian was not in class for a change, usually, he was here before anyone else.

Cillian was here though, seated behind his desk. He glanced up and smiled at Tessa, "Morning, Tess."

"Morning. Here you go." She had come over and handed him the bag.

"What is it?" He took it, peering in.

"The clothes you gave me. I washed them up. Also here." She handed him the handkerchief he had given to her a couple of weeks back. Sofia and her squad had walked in as well and seemed to notice the interaction.

"Oh, thank you. You didn't need to go to such lengths but I appreciate that." Cillian smiled as he took the cloth from her hand.

"You can also keep the bag too," Tessa returned the smile, "I've got plenty." She said.

"Alright. Thanks again." He nodded once.

She turned and went to sit down, pulling out her stuff and organising herself for the day. Class started soon after and Julian still had not made an appearance. Only thirty minutes before class ended he came but seemed quite troubled.

"You okay?" Tessa asked when it came to working with a group partner, she made sure they were good.

"I'm fine." Julian gave a curt reply and began to work on the given questions.

Tessa knew she wasn't going to get through to him so she let it go. But as she looked over at the snakes sitting across from her, they were snickering and looking over at them.

Something must have happened again and she wasn't there to stop it. She cursed silently and looked back at her best friend, "Julian. I want you to know I am here for you, okay? I don't want you to be silent and let whatever eat at you. You know it's no good and you are really hurting-"

It was like a switch had been flicked and Julian turned to her with such anger she was shocked, "Just shut up! I don't need anything from you!"

Cillian looked up from the folder he was looking at, his glasses sat on his nose, "Julian. What is the matter?"

"Nothing! Oh my god. Just- I want to work. Please." He kept his head down, shaking it.

Tessa frowned. She had no idea what just happened, she hadn't even pestered him about anything either.

"Well, it's not nice to talk to Tessa like that. She is only trying to help." Cillian had heard Tessa talk softly to the boy and was surprised the anger Julian had shown her for something so simple.

"Yeah, bit late now. She wasn't even here for a whole week to fucking help me." Julian snapped.

"Excuse me, do not swear in this class, Julian. Apologise to Tessa." Cillian said.

"Oh, no it's fine. He doesn't-"

"Julian," Cillian cut of Tessa, "Apologise."

Julian grounded his teeth and looked at her, his eyes held so much hurt and pain, "Sorry." He said without meaning it. He then got up and packed up his stuff.

"Where are you going? Class has not finished." Cillian said, his brows furrowed and annoyance shone in his eyes.

"Home," Julian said.

"We have half an hour to go, you can wait." Cillian's harsh tone only made Julian angrier.

"Yeah. Whatever. Too long for me." He grabbed his backpack and headed out.

"Julian!" Cillian called out as he stood to go stop him but he was already out of the door. He sighed and looked over at Tessa. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." She nodded, settling back in her chair. Sofia and her girls snickered softly to each other as if they knew this was coming.

Tess watched them whisper and laugh, they must've done something to him. Fuck, she thought with dread. She had to talk to him one way or another. Maybe she should tell Cillian. She debated it till the class ended and everyone filed out.

"Is everything okay with you and Julian?" Cillian had come over, his work bag slung over his shoulder.

"I... Think so. I don't... Really know why he acted like that, really." She stood up, lifting her bag.

"Huh, I see. He did seem quite strung up last week as well. I'll have to talk to him." He said.

"Leave it to me. I can get through to him, might make it easier for him as well." Tessa quickly said, wanting to find out herself and see whether Julian wanted a teacher involved.

"You sure? I don't want any issues to hinder your studies or your project with him." Cillian gestured for her to follow him out of the classroom.

"I'm sure. I promise you I will come to you if there are any issues." Once out of the classroom, the bitches were hanging around a little further down the hallway and watched them.

"Okay. I trust you with that. Now, I could not book a room for us today in the afternoon so we will head into my office. Is that okay?" He asked.

She liked how he always asked her first if she was okay with doing anything with him during these private lessons. It made her feel safer, "Of course. Fine by me."

"Alright." He reminded her of the building number and the level and told her to ring him on the phone in the foyer. He left and soon after Elijah came around with a wonderful grin.

"Hey, pretty lady." He winked and hugged her.

"Hi," she laughed softly, "I'm hungry. Let's go." She bumped her hip to his.

"You're always hungry." He rolled his eyes.

"Indeed. I am a growing girl, and growing girls need plenty of food!" Tessa said. Elijah was someone she had not expected to warm up so fast, he had a wonderful personality and was cool with whatever she was doing. He always made sure to find time for her even if it was only for an hour or less. Though she could not find herself telling Elijah about her issues behind closed doors, those things were... A sensitive topic for her and she wasn't sure if she would ever be able to talk about them.

Tessa had tried therapy at one point, but it became way too stressful for her and she found herself almost falling back into that dark pit. It would take a hell of a lot to overcome her past and the shit she had to go through when she lived with her dumbass father and that witch of a woman. Especially with those sons...

That was something she did not want to think about right now. She would enjoy her lunch with Elijah, make her way to the library and do some work before meeting up with Cillian later today.

Yeah. She would enjoy her time now, no need to dwell on the past. A waste of her time.

It was now late afternoon and Tessa was heading to the building Cillian had his office in, headed up the elevator and called him up through the phone provided in the closed-off foyer. She waited for a few minutes when he came through the doors with a wonderful smile.

"Hey, Tess. Good to see you, come on." He waved her over and she followed him.

She glanced around, taking in the space and walls, hearing the chatter of other teachers talking to each other or on phones.

Cillian brought her into the office and shut the door behind him. The room was fairly large but clean and tidy, shelving lined the walls on either side of the desk, packed with folders and boxes and a couple of books. His desk was big and covered in papers all neatly stacked. His laptop was open and music was playing through it.

"Take a seat. Let me just move some things around." He said as he began to pack away the stacked files into drawers as Tessa sat down in the chair.

She stayed silent the whole time as she pulled out her laptop and held it on her lap and watched him but at the same time didn't. More like glance quickly as he moved around. She couldn't help it though. He looked absolutely adorable in his glasses, mumbling softly to himself once the desk was cleared.

"There we go. I'll sit next to you." He said as he pulled out what looked like notes and turned his laptop around for her to see. He brought up last week's stuff and got right to it. They managed to do a day and a half worth of work in the two hours they spent together. Tessa worked hard to keep up and type away her notes and any extra's he told her.

"Hey, you managed to talk to Julian?" Cillian asked once they were done and he was packing up his stuff as well as she was too.

"Uh, no. He hasn't responded to my texts. Might try and talk to him tomorrow if he shows up." Tessa said as she pulled on her coat. She watched how he did the same, he was fixing the lapels of his coat and smoothing it out. But he hadn't fixed his collar and it was bothering her.

"Huh, okay. Well, I hope he does come. Tomorrow's lesson is- what are you doing?" He cocked an eyebrow as she had come closer, those delicate fingers reaching up and behind his neck. He felt her fix the collar, the soft tips and the gentle scrape of her nails against his neck made his skin rise in gooseflesh.

"Collar wasn't folded right." She said. Her cheeks warmed a little, the sudden courage to fix his coat was something that had suddenly come out of her. Totally not because she wanted to be close to him. Definitely not because of that reason.

"Oh, alright. Thanks." He said without an ounce of judgment or awkwardness. Cillian took it as it was. Her hands slid down his shoulders before she stepped back with a smile. God that smile made her wonderfully beautiful. Fuck, what the hell.

"Now you look better. Gotta check yourself more thoroughly." She nodded as she slung her back over her shoulder.

He smiled as they walked out of his office together, "I know. But why should I when I got you." He teased.

She scoffed, "I am not your maid." She rolled her eyes.

"Just a friend looking out for me, then," Cillian said as they entered the elevator.

"Friend?" She blinked, looking up at him.

"Yeah. I consider all my students as friends and I'd like to make sure they know that. And that they can come to me for any issues they have. Friends do that." He said with sincerity.

Her heart fluttered and she looked away quickly, her emotions suddenly rolling through her. Glee, hope, desire and excitement. She could tell he was genuine about his words and his motives, he had always been like that since the first week.

"I understand I could be overstepping the line, but I really want you especially to know I will not... Hurt you or do anything you do not like. You may talk to me about whatever that concerns you, may it be big or small." His hand came to rest on her forearm, his thumb moving up and down.

The touch made her stomach flip and fill with butterflies and she slowly turned to him, her eyes moving up his body to hold his gaze. She was sort of surprised by what she saw in them; longing. Everything about this seemed so... Wrong and yet she was so willing to go with it and push those thoughts aside. Step over that boundary and say fuck it.

Tessa hadn't realised she had stepped closer to him until the elevator doors slid open and she jumped back and they both cleared their throats.

"Thank you for today. I will see you tomorrow." She said quickly and darted out of the metal cabin and headed to her car before Cillian could reply to her.

He watched her scurry off and wondered what had just happened in the elevator. He licked his lips and looked around as if he had walked into something foreign. First, he was simply reminding Tessa that he was there for her and then... She had stepped closer. He could still remember that sweet perfume she had on, it seemed like fuel for his soul, her gaze that seemed to take him under a spell... Fuck, thoughts wandered into his brain and he cursed again. This was so not right and yet, he couldn't fucking get her out of his head. "Fuck me." He muttered as he stalked to his car, catching her driving off.

Tessa was like a train at full speed, rolling down the tracks without a care in the world. She was flushed all over, her breasts aching and tight and her core like fire. She needed pleasure, and she wanted it from one person only.

Her goddamn teacher.

She had thought these feelings were just fleeting, something that would pass eventually and she would be fine. But it seemed these quiet feelings were only growing more and more the longer she stared at him. She shook her head, trying to rid them.

Tonight she would see Elijah. And enjoy her night with the guy who had taken in such interest in her.

Nighttime...

Dinner had gone swell with Elijah. He had picked out a good place to eat, a nice pub in the middle of London. She ordered Fish and Chips as it was her go-to thing when it came to pubs here, she loved the dish. They chatted about new music that was coming out and had organised to go to a gig this coming weekend. He would bring some of his own mates to and she would bring Esther if she could come.

But she couldn't stop staring at him. Elijah had kept his hair natural and simply combed back the long strands out of his face. He had a light scruff along those sharp cheeks and jaw. He wore tight skinny black jeans and a turtle neck jumper the colour of chocolate.

"What?" He laughed as he took a swig of his beer which was his second... Or third. Who knows.

"Nothin'." She huffed, taking a sip of her third red wine. She had worn a black jumper that was tight on her with a leather black skirt and polka-dot stockings and pointed toe heels. The only splash of colour she had was the bright blue bag which had a floral design of multi-coloured flowers.

"Yeah, sure. You looking at me as if I am like, dessert." He mused, leaning forward on those powerful arms.

She snorted, "Mm, well, you might be since you look like that." She admitted alcoholic drinks tend to make her a little more confident in flirting than sober.

"Oh yeah? I look that good you wanna eat me?" Elijah's hand slid over the table and over hers. His skin was warm and soft as he turned her palm, his fingers tracing her wrist and down into her palm.

She glanced down, the tingling sensation of his touch moving up her arm, "I'd be a cannibal but I don't care." She said lowly, holding his gaze.

"Mm, I know I taste good. Look at me, I am a perfectly cooked chicken nugget." Elijah said with no shame whatsoever. And sort of killing the mood.

But Tessa let out a bark of a laugh from his words, clutching his hand, "You're so stupid, you know that?" She was still giggling.

He laughed with her, finding her laugh sweet, "Oh yeah I am. And a hopeless flirt. I cannot do the whole serious thing without ruining it."

"Oh, you didn't ruin it really. I just didn't expect it." She shook her head, her smile grand.

Elijah scooted over to her side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, "I didn't?" He asked, his head bowed to her.

"No, you didn't. I promise you." She looked up, his green eyes shone in the low light. She felt his hand move down from her shoulder and to her waist.

"Okay, I believe you." He murmured, his fingers slipped under the waistband of her skirt.

Tessa leaned more into his hard body, her fingers splayed on his thigh, "Eli..." She murmured, her skin growing warm once more. Right now, she felt fully safe with this man beside her. They had known each other for some weeks now and she could easily call him her best friend despite he didn't really know her backstory. Nor did he ever ask or seemed bothered she never told him.

Elijah cupped her cheek with his other hand, "You know you are incredibly beautiful." He said it in a way that it wasn't a question.

"I don't believe that but I can believe it when it comes from you." She spoke with a soft gasp, his thumb stroking her cheek.

"Always believe that. You are a beautiful woman who I am thankful for meeting." The next moment shocked her.

Elijah kissed her. It was a soft caress type, testing the waters.

She reached out and gripped his shoulder, pulling him in and indicating she wanted him to kiss her more. So he did by deepening it. She parted her lips and welcomed him in, letting his tongue swept over hers. A sound escaped them both and his hand that was on her cheek moved down, brushing over her breast and he let out a grunt as he felt around her chest.

"No bra?" He muttered against her lips.

"I tend not to wear one, gets uncomfortable." She had her arms half around his neck and pecked at his lips as he squeezed her breast. She let out a gasp.

"Like that?" His lips brushed her nose.

"I do." She bit her bottom lip her eyes darted around the main floor of the pub but it seemed no one was looking at them. "Maybe we should take this elsewhere?" She asked.

"Why? Afraid you might get caught?" His hand continued its descent, over her abdomen and to her thigh.

"No. But I don't want to get in trouble." Tessa's legs parted slightly with the help of him before that damned hand began to go up the inside of her thigh. "Elijah! No!" She laughed softly as she tried to push his hand away.

"You like this, I can see it." He growled against her ear as his hand shot forward to meet the barrier of stocking and cloth. His middle finger rubbed up and down against that barrier.

Tess let out a soft moan, clutching him as she leaned further back into the booth they were seated in, "O-Oh Elijah." His finger continued to do its motion against her before he pressed harder, "God, are you drenched already?" His lips were hot against her neck.

"Yeah. Oh, Elijah- I want to take this elsewhere." She locked her legs around his hand, gripping his forearm and tried to stop his touching.

"Where would you like to go then? I could drive us somewhere quiet and dark." Elijah grunted when she began to rub against his crotch with her leg.

She looked around and then to the bathroom, "Toilets. I don't think I can wait till you drive and find a place." She sighed in relief when he pulled back and looked over to the dark hallway that leads to the toilets.

"Oh? Wanna fuck in public, hey?" He smirked getting up and holding out his hand for her to take.

She stood and smirked back, "It's not really public." She said as they walked to the bathrooms. He took a peek in the men's bathroom.

"All clear, beautiful." He said and she looked around and ducked in quickly. He took her to the farthest stall and lucky for them it had a broken light. Once in, he had her back to the hard wall and was kissing her feverishly. Her arms locked around his neck and her fingers deep into his hair.

Elijah's hands roamed all over her and hitched up her skirt to her waist and then ripped her stockings between her legs.

"Elijah! No! My stockings!" She cried out frowning as she glanced over.

"I'll get you new ones." He kissed her to shut her up and she instantly forgave him like that. Tessa reached down to his belt buckle and swiftly undid them, pulling out his hard length. She felt no man as big as he was and she moaned in delight.

"Fuck." She said, stroking the velvet shaft.

"You like it, hm?" He had his hands braced on the wall on either side of her.

"Yeah. And I want you inside me, hun." She gritted her teeth.

"Gladly." He reached down and lifted her up and got her to lock her legs around him. "Get me in, princess. I want you." He kissed her cheeks and her jaw then her neck.

"Mmm," She replied. She pushed aside her lacy thong and brought his thick head to her dripping core. "Thrust." She whispered with anticipation.

Elijah grunted as he pushed forward. He came with resistance but felt her open up as he kept going deeper and deeper. Her moans were muffled as she buried her head into his shoulder, biting down on the fabric of his jumper. "Holy fucking Christ." He said, stilling once he was balls deep in her.

"Fuck me, Elijah. Please, Christ, fuck me." She begged softly, her body undulating against him.

"I am no God." He groaned and began to thrust.

The fucking was rough, he bent her legs more outwards to get further into her and it made her cry out suddenly. He had hit a sweet spot and kissed her to quiet her heavenly moans. Her lovely breasts under her jumper bounced from the thrusts he gave her and he wished he could just tear the damn shirt to see them. But God he didn't want to wait any longer, he wanted to be inside her. Her walls were tight and hugged him, drawing out the pleasure in intense waves.

They had almost got caught when a group of guys walked in and they had to suddenly stop. Tessa held back a laugh as she kept her face buried in his neck.

"Oi, you two back there. We know you in 'ere. We won't be long." The boys snickered and one of them banged on the door.

"Give it to her, man!" One yelled.

Elijah gave Tessa a look and she smirked, nodding.

Elijah did indeed, give it to her. Her loud cry from his sudden speed made the guys holler in the bathroom and cheer him on. It wasn't long they left them be.

The idea of being caught thrilled Tessa and brought her to the edge, and it was soon after she was crying out his name and she came hard on his cock.

"Knees. Now." Elijah grunted as he set her down. She collapsed on her knees and she opened her mouth wide for him as he pumped himself. His groans were deep and guttural, one hand braced on the wall above her before he barked out and came on her face. His seed was hot and thick and a lot.

He panted when he stilled, his knees bent and his hair disarray on his head. He looked down at her, seeing her messy face and her black jumper had thick blobs on it.

"Oh, my God." She whispered, leaning back against the wall with a grin. "You animal." She wiped his cum off her face and began to lick her fingers.

Fuuuuuuuuck, he thought as she did her best to clean herself up.

"Indeed. Holy crap that was amazing." He reached down and helped her up before getting her to sit down on the toilet lid.

"It was." She giggled watching him clean himself up with tissues and tucked himself away.

"Did you like it?" He asked before he began to clean her face up. She let him and smiled more.

"Oh, it was so good, Elijah. So, so good." She said softly.

He smiled and leaned in, kissing her deeply, "I'm glad you liked it, Princess."

She shivered at the nickname and stood. Her legs were wobbly but she was okay, she tried to fix herself up but her stockings were ruined. She simply tugged her skirt down after she cleaned up and adjusted her jumper.

"Stay at my place tonight," Elijah said as he pulled her close, hands on her ass.

"Okay. I will." She nodded and they left the stall and the bathroom.

Those same boys were outside and smirked at Elijah, "Damn bro, you are totally mad."

She watched the interactions and it seemed he knew them, she raised a brow as they walked away from them, his arm around her waist, "You know 'em?" She asked.

"Yeah. Buddies from work. They mean no harm." He smiled at her as they came to his car.

"They hype you up like this? Or is this like, a random chance that they saw us?"

"Not really. I think it's just the chance they saw us. You aren't upset, are you?" He held open the door for her.

"No. I'm not." She leaned up and kissed him softly.

He squeezed her side and closed the door after her. He drove back to his apartment he shared with his best mate who was still back in the pub, he had explained that to her as they got into his room.

"Interesting. I bet he'll be there for a while?" She asked as she stood at the end of the double bed Elijah had. His room was full of band posters and shelves covered in Pop Vinyls, superhero figurines and many books. She smiled at the disorderly room. She loved it.

"Yeah, I think so. Why?" Elijah had gone into his own bathroom to wash his face. As he walked out he let out a gasp.

Tessa had stripped and laid face down on his bed, her ass up in the air and she was fingering herself.

"Cause I don't want that toilet fuck to be the only fuck tonight." She moaned, slipping her fingers deep inside her.

Elijah hissed as he discards his clothing lightning fast and was upon her in no time, grabbing her hair and yanking her back and made her scream all night long.

Neither of them was sure whether it was the bed banging on the wall or the neighbour's fists to shut them up. Oh well, they can deal with it. Tessa wasn't too concerned, too wrapped up in pleasure.

#cillian murphy #teacher x student #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #fanfiction

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