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summercourtship · 2 years

Note

Hey! Can you write something for Amanda Young x female reader where r finds out Amanda is working with Jigsaw and is kinda afraid of her for a while. Like trying not to get her mad, tensing for a few seconds when she touches r, and Amanda reassures us she won't hurt us. Happy ending please.

This fic is brought to you by my hatred of Hoffman uwu. Takes place post Saw 3 in which Amanda doesn’t kill Lynn, even though Hoffman was blackmailing her into doing it. While it was clear that John would be told of her involvement in Gideon’s death, it was not clear that Amanda’s S/O would be informed of her involvement in the Jigsaw murders. Hoffman sux.

revelations.

amanda x reader | warnings: none :0 | word count: 908

It started with a manila envelope, sandwiched in between pages of coupons and offers for free credit score checks. You didn’t pay it any mind as you walked up the stairs to your apartment, figuring that everything in your hands was junk and going to be thrown out immediately after a quick glance.

And it almost was, until you actually looked at it. No return address. No stamps. Just your name, scrawled over its surface in thick black lettering.

You only think of anthrax once the envelope has been torn open. But there is no bioweapon hidden inside the letter, just a page with a very brief note.

But the note doesn’t make any sense. And yet, it makes all the sense in the world.

Amanda Young is an accomplice of the Jigsaw killer.

There is no evidence presented with the claim, no pictures or damning statements. Just a sentence that, by all intents and purposes, you should feel completely justified in discarding. But something is holding you back, some shred of clarity that had been revealed.

Her odd behavior sometimes, the strange hours that she worked. The callouses and scars littering her hands, a new one seemingly added every day. The odd stains on her clothing, oil and… blood, you shuddered to realize.

You had no reason to believe the note. Maybe you were just connecting disjointed events to rationalize it all, but why would you do that if you didn’t know, deep down inside, that it was true?

But even with all of this, you knew that the only way to confirm it was to ask her. And you were suddenly terribly afraid of her, but you had to know.

So you waited. Sitting stiffly on your couch, the room growing dark around you. You didn’t bother turning the lights on, too lost in your thoughts to even notice it. You were only broken out of this stupor when you heard the door click shut, and shuffling footsteps approach you.

“Is it true?” Your voice was quiet in the darkened apartment, staring at the crumpled manila envelope you’d thrown on the coffee table. Your name was scrawled on its surface, with no return address or stamps. You could feel Amanda’s presence behind you, but you couldn’t make yourself turn around.

“What are you talking about?” You couldn't tell from her voice if she was in a good mood or not- either way, she wouldn’t be in a couple seconds.

“Are you working with… with Jigsaw?” You barely squeaked out the title, fear gripping your heart.

“Why would you think that?”

You snatched the envelope off the table, whirling around to face her. “This was in the mailbox. It says that you… you work with him. That you help him murder people!”

Her eyes fixate on the envelope, face pale. “Who gave you that?”

“I don’t know- it doesn’t matter! I just want to know if it’s right.”

Her reluctance to give you an immediate answer told you all you needed to know. She was not the type to typically beat around the bush, at least not when it mattered. But she wasn’t even trying to lie right now, too stunned by your questions to figure out what to do.

“Please.” You were quiet now, heart beating wildly in your chest.

“...Yes.” She reaches for you, but you jerk backwards out of her way. The word echoes in your head, her quiet yes filling your head with it’s finality.

“Don’t touch me.” You gasp out. Her hand falters in its place before dropping to her side. She looks lost, her eyes searching around the room as if the answer would be written on one of the walls. After a minute of this, her face hardens as she looks at you again, moving towards you.

Reasonably, at least in your eyes, you think she is going to kill you. You cry out, scrambling backwards but tripping over the coffee table in your attempt to get away from her. You land on the floor with a harsh thud, groaning at the pain from the fall. She gasps, rushing towards you.

Amanda quickly props you into a sitting position, brushing your hair away from your face. You flinch away from her, avoiding eye contact. Her touch stalls for a moment before moving down your face, turning it in her direction. Her deep brown eyes search your own, and she suddenly surges forward, holding your head against her own as she touches her forehead to yours. She never looks away from your eyes.

“I would never hurt you. These people, they aren’t like you. They’re greedy, selfish, uncaring people, they don’t think before they hurt others and they don’t feel guilt afterwards.”

“Do you?”

“I- yes.” She moves her face away from yours, still intimately close, keeping her hand on your cheek.

“Then why do you do it?”

“He saved me. I have to repay him, somehow.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I don’t expect you to. But I just need you to know that I won’t hurt you. I won’t let anyone hurt you. Okay?”

You nod, leaning into her hand. Her palm is so warm, and the callouses don’t bother you, knowing they are indicative of how hard she works.

“I love you, you know that right?” She continues. You nod again, feeling her thumb stroke your skin with more tenderness than you thought was humanly possible.

“I love you too.”

#amanda young x reader #amanda #amanda young #saw #saw franchise #saw fanfic #saw movies #saw x reader #request #ask #alexleftme #oneshot #my writing

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

Could we please have a prequel to the praise kink fic? Because i really want to know why were Sirius and Remus not together and what did Remus send him. I really need context

I was hoping somebody would ask for this!! The aforementioned fic is here for any curious souls (18+ please) and SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for spicy texts (not exactly nudes), and smutty feelings with nothing explicit

The bus went over a bump and Sirius winced as his shins knocked against the back of the seat in front of him, connecting with the metal brace inside. “Fuck.”

“You sure you don’t want to switch?” James asked next to him. Sirius glanced down at the veritable wall of gear and empty snack bags between them, then back to James in disbelief. He shrugged, then set his headphones back over his ears. “Worth a shot.”

“Merde,” Sirius hissed as a pothole nearly took off his kneecap. He gritted his teeth and readjusted, drawing his legs closer to his chest. I want to be home, he thought, allowing himself an internal moment to whine.

He checked his phone—not even ten in the morning. It was a Saturday, so Remus would probably just be rolling out of bed, still sleepy and soft with his hair sticking up like a disgruntled cat’s. Sirius sighed heavily and stared out the window at the small town rolling past in the distance; there was little he wouldn’t give to be back with him instead of on the way to a full week of conferences.

“Why did we have to win the Cup?” he grumbled.

James lifted one side of his headphones. “What?”

“Nothing.”

It wasn’t like they had had much time to themselves before that, either—Sirius’ schedule was packed with interviews that felt more like interrogations, and Remus had been running the PT department mostly by himself while Moody took a well-deserved vacation. They were dead on their feet every night, worked to the bone with little energy left to do more than cuddle and fall asleep. Still, Sirius was grateful for every second of it.

He waited ten more minutes before giving in.

New Message To: Re

Bonjour mon loup <3

There was no immediate response, which made sense, though he was a little bit disappointed. Sirius closed his eyes and tried to make himself relax; it would be at least another six hours before they arrived at their destination, and the bad weather gathering overhead didn’t bode well for quick travel.

His phone buzzed gently and he scrambled to answer. Don’t be Reg, don’t be Reg, don’t be Reg—

New Message From: Re

Morning love!

Thanks for the bagels <3

“Fuck yes,” Sirius said under his breath. The bagels had been a last-minute decision as he crept through the house in the early hours of the morning after carefully detaching himself from Remus with a final half-asleep farewell kiss. There was no guarantee he would remember breakfast with everything going on, so Sirius figured it was a safe bet to toast them and leave them on the countertop before heading out.

Message To: Re

Pas de problem

Sleep well?

Message From: Re

Decent

Missed you :(

Sirius rested his temple against the cold window with a soft sound. He hated leaving at different times, but that was just how their life worked at the moment.

Message To: Re

Missed you too <3

Three small dots appeared for a long moment before vanishing without a trace just as his heart rate began picking up. Where’d you go? he almost wondered aloud. Something bumped his arm and James raised a quizzical brow. “Loops,” Sirius said by way of explanation.

“I figured. He okay?”

“I think so? He just…disappeared on me.” Sirius was well-aware of how plaintive he sounded—James’ teasing smile was completely unnecessary.

“Aw, Cap,” he laughed, reaching over to mess with his beanie until Sirius slapped his hand away. “It’s alright, buddy, it’s just a couple days.”

Sirius jammed his hat back on his head and flicked James on the unprotected bit of his ear, making him yelp. “Fuck off, I know you’ll be a mess as soon as Lily FaceTimes with my godson.”

“He has a name, you know.”

“Sorry. You’ll be a mess as soon as she FaceTimes with Pocket Pots, who happens to be my godson.”

James rolled his eyes. “I regret giving you that title.”

“Nah, you don’t.”

As if on cue, his phone lit up again; Sirius ignored James’ snickering as he quickly unlocked it.

New Message From: Re

When will you be at the hotel?

“That’s it?” he muttered.

Message To: Re

That was a lot of typing for one sentence

6-7 hrs, if the weather holds

Why?

Message From: Re

Sorry lmao Reg came in for a bit

Just curious :) Keep me updated?

Message To: Re

Will do <3

Tell Reg he needs to wash his sheets. It’s been over a month.

A small thumbs-up emoji was his only answer, and he tried not to be too bummed. Remus liked having things to do; sitting there and texting Sirius while he slowly got further and further away was probably not his preferred way to spend a morning. With a sigh that was likely a bit too dramatic for the situation he was in, Sirius faced the window once more and buckled in for a long ride.

He chatted off and on with the others when they stopped for lunch, but everyone was exhausted from the combination of a packed week and an early morning. Even Talker stayed fairly quiet, and James kept his headphones on for most of the trip.

Sirius finally succumbed to his tiredness and put some music on, then dozed for an hour or three while they traveled through yet another field. A few halfhearted calls of “cows” made their way around the bus, though nobody seemed particularly enthused about being packed in with double the gear due to a broken storage compartment. Donuts and gas station coffee could only do so much.

“Just crossed the state border,” Arthur called from the front of the bus as Sirius tried to ignore the cramping in his thighs. Three hours. Just three more.

His music was interrupted by a soft jingle alert and he pulled his phone out, hoping against hope that Regulus hadn’t caused a fire anywhere. It was unlikely given the…well, everything about him, but with Sirius’ luck it could happen.

New Message From: Re

How far?

Message To: Re

About 3 hrs. Ran into some detours

Good day?

Remus remained silent on the other end and Sirius frowned. That was rather rude, and highly unusual. Between the two of them, Remus was the one who kept conversations going past the initial question to be answered.

Message From: Re

Attachment: 1 Image

Love you! Call me when you get there : )

Sirius opened the attachment and almost threw his phone in utter shock. Skin. Bare skin everywhere, its smooth edges broken up only by tight black fabric that may as well have been painted onto the curve of Remus’ ass. “Oh my god,” he whimpered, voice barely audible even to his own ears. It had been taken in their bedroom mirror; Remus looked over his shoulder, and Sirius caught the corner of a devious smirk on his lips. “Oh, you fucker.”

Message From: Re

Thoughts? They’re cozy

Message To: Re

Did you miss the part where I said three (3) hours

Message From: Re

Nope

Second one is a guessing game and u get a prize if u get it right : )

The second photograph was more zoomed-in than the first and Sirius wracked his brain, running through his mental catalogue of Remus’ body to figure out the answer. It did absolutely nothing to calm the situation in his pants.

He had no idea what the promised prize was, but anticipation made his hands shake slightly as he carefully scanned the picture. The shadows caught it at an odd angle—it wasn’t the steady slopes of his face or neck, nor was it the strong curve of a shoulder. Not enough freckles, either, he thought.

A lightbulb lit in the back of his mind.

Message To: Re

Right hip

Another thought connected half a second later.

Holy fuck you took them off

Is that my prize?

Re?

Remus Lupin I swear to god

TEXT ME BACK

Message From: Re

Bingo!

Christ you’re impatient, I was gone for like 2 mins

He chanced a look toward Pots, whose head lolled to the side as he snored.

Message To: Re

Hey quick question why are you like this

It’s a good thing Pots is out cold bc this bus is too small to hide anything

Message From: Re

Haha sux to be you

Sirius’ cheeks heated with a whole cocktail of different emotions as he furiously typed a response.

Message To: Re

‘Sux to be you’???

Are you 13 yrs old????

Message From: Re

Do you want your prize or not u horndog

Message To: Re

YOU MADE ME THIS WAY

He took a deep breath through his nose and flexed his fingers.

Yes please

A simple smiley face—Sirius would never see those things the same—popped up, followed by an audio file. He triple-checked that his headphones were plugged in before tapping ‘play’ with an unsteady thumb.

His face went very, very hot before all the blood went straight to his groin and he closed his eyes, covering his mouth with his hand. Breathy sounds came through the heavy earphones, a little more crackly than they would be in-person; he heard Remus’ gasp catch in his throat and crossed his legs as best he could in the too-small seat, torn between thanking and cursing any higher power. He could practically see Remus’ face in his mind’s eye as the noises continued, intermixed with fragments of desperate words.

The file came to an end after what felt like the blink of an eye and a hundred years, and Sirius did not look away from the violently red seat cushion in front of him for a long moment as his brain came back online. He couldn’t remember the last time he was so turned on.

He took a few deep breaths, though it did nothing to erase the poorly-muffled whines that still rang between his ears like church bells. Sirius huffed and turned to grab his waterbottle out of his duffel, only to make direct eye contact with Finn across the aisle.

Sirius froze.

Finn grinned.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he hissed, too low to wake James but just loud enough to carry over the four feet separating them. Finn’s smile widened. “Stop it. Stop it right now.”

“How’s Loops?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“That good, huh?”

“O’Hara, I swear to god—”

“Oh, is Cap spilling secrets?” Kasey asked, poking his head over the back of the seat.

Finn opened his mouth, but the force of Sirius’ glare must have been enough to at least intimidate him a little, because he shook his head. The smug Cheshire grin remained. “Nah, just having a chat about our plans when we get home.”

Kasey groaned. “You’re a lucky man, O’Hara. Both your people get to come with you. Nat sent me a promise, like, twenty minutes ago and I can’t stop thinking about it. I won’t be available tonight from six to eight if anyone was wondering.”

“Did she really?” Finn looked back to Sirius, who bit the inside of his cheek and tried to keep his cool. Two and a half hours, and then he would be safe. Just two and a half more hours.

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ktheist · 4 years

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story time: nice guys finish last

warning: spoiler alert.

this is where i rant, cry and scream about my fics. not all fics have a story time though! the ones that do just kind of have a special place in my heart ♥️

the ngfl!namjoon is somewhat the headcanon of the irl namjoon (or what he portrays in front of the camera) if he were a ceo - an employer. besides the fact that i sux at e2l, i can’t ever see namjoon butting heads with anyone even though it’s a mildly extreme light banter yk?

so that’s why namjoon is the way he in this fic. besides that, i just wanted to create a story where two characters who were thrown into a state where they’re forced to commit to someone they don’t love for the sake of their families - to have a mutual understanding and respect for each other even if it’s all they have in their (initially) loveless marriage.

ii.

the title ‘nice guys finish last’ is the irony of what this fic represents: the guy who treats people around them with due respect gets everything - and didn’t finish last.

this could take on a more erotic meaning if i were to focus more on smut but ya girl can’t write smut for shite 💀 so i decided to keep it short - thank you hoseok and oc’s career for making that happen 🙌

iii.

paris was oc’s hoe phase - felt like i needed to get it out there lmao. ofc having a broken heart isn’t exactly the best reason to hoe around - you should do it at your prime when you’re feeling like it just for the heck of it. but for character development’s sake, oc was a hoE

that’s how she has that confidence to top namjoon and even think of getting handcuffs - i love her for that

#bts #bts fic #namjoon #namjoon scenarios #bts namjoon #fic: nice guys finish last #bts fanfic #namjoon fanfic

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wandering-bitch · 4 years

Text

Notes for I Have Always Loved The Door (pt 1)

I Have Always Loved The Door is the Wen Qing/Mianmian fic that all the wlw wanted but canon could not in any way make happen

This is part one of three, i’m sorry, but it is a 30k fic and i’ve never written anything this long. it’s like. six months of my life. annotations are gonna be longer, too.

What is this fic About? Uh. Lots. Mostly your relationship with your past and your future. making choices about what you carry with you into your life.

title is from Charly Bliss’ “Percolator” but like. the rest of the fic is in no way related to the song. Just the lyrics “I have always loved the door/but I will always love you more/I love metaphors” fit well for the wen qing mood

it is a fucking CRIME that wen qing died, and while i’m happy that luo qingyang got a happy ending with a soft man who just wants to make her happy, i think she deserves more. so i gave her a fancy job

i struggled with the outline for this so much until i realized that mianmian’s canon arc is partially about saying goodbye to your home/family because you no longer fit there + it’s not a great place anymore. and that’s so close 2 wen qing’s

so that drove a great part of the plot, and helped shape the youya/tuzai bit

ch 1

the first chapter is so funny and then nothing ever approaches it, i’m so sorry i got ur hopes up with the shennans TTnTT

i hate most of my writing after it’s up but i still like this chapter. wen qing being a doctor, nmj knowing his place, mianmian cursing loudly

“If you’ve been knuckles-deep in me, you can consider yourself a friend” i spend a lot of time in this fic trying to kill wen qing with Lesbianism, but honestly that’s just to make up for mianmian killing herself with lesbianism.

this was b4 i decided to care how i ended chapters haha

ch 2

i’m proud honestly of this fic alternating perspective, bc it forced me to learn to write more distinct voices.

“are you eating enough red meat?” “in the unclean realm?”

if i had 2 be in a Great Sect i would 100% want to be in the big sexy sword jock sect but unfortunately i’m a vegetarian

please think of me, an average-sized gay, with noodle arms, pushing away all the giant cooks and self-appointed nie aunties, who are trying to shove meat into my mouth

like you know how cats avoid the bath??? and their people are like “jesus fuck how is this 10 lb animal defeating me, i’m huge and strong and also have thumbs”??? that, except it’s an average sized sword gay fighting ten RIPPED aunties holding out beef

i do love the mianqing dynamic i created here and i’m not sure i kept it up but WHATEVER this is about annotations not about editing

mianmian: god FUCK the jin clan, the jin clan sux. wen qing: hmmmmmmmmmm

i think mianmian’s three older sisters might show up in a future work in the series

yeah, i fell in love with this au, there will be at least one epilogue.

ch 3

oh ho ho!!! it’s the beginning of Sword Content!!!

i watched so many videos of dao work vs jian work and then i ignored all of it!!!

by that i mean “there were only like two decent-quality videos on dao work that i found on youtube and i couldn’t study them hard enough to get what i wanted”

someone trying to correct your practice with boring, irrelevant suggestions??? it’s extremely likely, it’s happened to me multiple times, i straight up stopped practicing outside bc of it

please, men, i’m begging you. if you see me doing martial arts, rather than correcting me, ask “oh cool, what are you doing? ah, i do [this art]” and like. talk with me like i’m a human

not to be A Bitch but there is a 70% chance that i’ve actually studied more marital arts than you, on account of most ppl abandoning within a few years, and me practicing aikido for more than a fucking decade

god swinging a weapon full-speed at someone and stopping inches from their head??? a Fun Time

mianmian’s doing it as a big dick energy move

but in my school we just trusted each other to not fuck up.

im too gay to want any “”””homophobia””” or “””discovering you’re gay”””” or “””coming out”””” plots, i just wanna fast forward to the “”””i wanna kiss a girl””” bit

OH MAN i forgot wwx’s voice in wen qing’s head.

“even after his death the yiling patriarch managed to annoy her” i love wen qing

ch 4

IT’S THE MEMORIAL DINNER CHAPTER

memorial dinners are an important part of my household’s mourning process sorry

“she waved her hand to indicate the entirety of his use of demonic cultivation, fall from grace, and mass murder” mood wen qing. fucking mood.

oh my god im rereading this and seeing where i misspelled shit ugh. sorry lwj

so sometimes i’m vague about food and that’s because the only food i can think of when i’m writing is pork. i just. can’t remember what other foods u can eat. pork and also buns (but meat buns) soup? never heard of her. chicken? what is that??? piles of vegetables??? no one eats that obviously

please remember that im vegetarian and not only do i not eat pork, what i do eat is piles of vegetables

ah yes!!! time for mianmian to say prisons are for burning!!!!

our girls are both radical leftists sorry not sorry

acab, reproductive rights, prisons are for burning, capitalism is an inherently exploitative system, unionize your workplace

“tip your servers well” -- wen qing

wwx, shouting from beyond the grave: GET SOME, GIRLS!!!

wwx’s ghost: do y’all need anything? snacks? water? a condom? ah, love you kids, you keep me young

oh i forgot “for my local radical,” i should make sure to keep using ‘my radical’ as a cute endearment for the wives

ch 5

awwwww yeahhhhhhh trauma dreamsssss

writing jin guangyao is so fun!! and stressful!!!

fun because he never says anything straight, only through six layers of plausible deniability, and that’s just a fun exercise

fun also because i Love a Bitch.

stressful because he never says anything straight, only through six layers of plausible deniability.

the bit where he threatens to expose wen qing and mentions specifically that nmj does not like being lied to??? took me several times to perfect and im still not happy!!!

but i’m deeply proud of him sending the flame hairpiece, that’s some a+ innocent-looking menace right there, that’s the only thing on this planet i believe in anymore

i loved making up sect politics that weren’t specifically “let’s put up watchtowers” because i don’t think that happened while jgs was still alive

uh @ self why did i capitalize da-ge that’s so uncomfortable.

oh my god i just realized that jin guangyao has to watch his ex boyfriend/nie mingjue treat mianmian the way he used to be treated oh fuck

sorry i was not at all writing 3zun cinderella when i wrote this so i wasn’t in the habit of thinking about jgy being in pain and now???

get fukt jin guangyao

he 100% cries to lxc about this later

what’s that??? you say i keep writing overthinkers who are anxious and terrified of everything??? huh i’m not sure i agree and if even if you were right i’m not sure it means anything

“grumpy frog” mianmian mvp

god the flame hairpiece is one of like two whole good endings i did for this fic haha

next time: ch 6-10!!

#mdzs #cql #mo dao zu shi #the untamed #wen qing #behind the scenes #i have always loved the door #mianmian #god i just [clenches fist] love mianmian

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thewincestgospel · 5 years

Text

Someone sent me this...

Hi, do you have any recommendations for weecest fics? Long, plotty ones? Your recs are some of the best. Thank you for your service. ♡

And I was like

But then life kept happening and I had to put it to the side and I was like....

But then I finally got some time and I started composing my list but then I accidentally posted it before I was done then it wouldn't let me save it to queue so I could finish it so I had to copy it, delete it and start again. Then it wouldn’t save on my cell or tablet after two days of trying I said fuck it and just waited until I got back home (I travel for work) to do it off my laptop.

So so sorry to the Anon who sent me this request.

I hope the long list makes up for my tardiness.

Weecest Recs

All the Way by BenLMoore A family court orders that Sam and Dean be separated because they're too close. These people don't realize, there's no keeping the Winchesters boys apart.

And I Have Asked to Be Where No Storms Come by candle_beck Family is the first to break your heart.

The Ballad of the Invisible Boy by dollylux This is a story of adolescence. This is a love letter for the slow burn, for Led Zeppelin, for the 90s. This is the first of two sets of stories about how Sam and Dean didn’t fall in love. They never had to. It was always there, this desperation between them, like a real, breathing thing. When they came together, it was inevitable. As sure as continents colliding, as the phases of the moon and the life and death of stars. This isn’t a love story, but it’s a story of love.

Birthday by helena_s_renn, Helenas_bitch, orphan_account Sam turns fifteen two weeks after Dean ended their relationship. In order to celebrate Sam's birthday, Dean decides to get him laid – with a girl.

Crown and Anchor Me (or let me sail away) by Sena Sam Winchester is fifteen years old, at yet another new high school in yet another state, he doesn’t get along with his distant, distracted father, he’s figuring out that he likes guys just as much as he likes girls, his clothes never fit and his limbs ache at the joint ever since his growth spurt started, he has to study for the PSAT and, oh yeah, he’s a little bit in love with his brother, Dean, who’s taken a break from hunting monsters to work at a local garage for minimum wage.

Crush by BewareTheIdes15 Dean looks at him different now, Sam just can't figure out what the difference is.

Everlong by Lux Aeterna Sam and Dean’s feelings come to a head a year before Sam leaves for college. They struggle with the implications and complications of their relationship, but no matter where they go or what they do, it’s impossible to forget.

The Good Days by Danceswithfiends 'His stomach jumps at these small glimpses of Dean, and he tries to push it down, but thoughts of Dean bending him over in the back seat of the car flood his brain anyway. Sam swallows heavily and looks away, trying to focus intently on the road. If this doesn’t stop soon, Sam is going to go absolutely nuts.'The sexcapades of Sam and Dean's relationship in its early days and the days that follow.

Hard-Won Inches by BewareTheIdes Dean’s developed this thing lately where he likes to touch Sam’s mouth while he has the amulet in there, fingers tracing so gently it almost tickles, around the little pouty spot where the cord disappears between Sam’s lips. It’s kind of weird, but probably not weirder than the fact that Sam’s ten and still sucks on his brother’s necklace to go to sleep at night.

A History of Love by lyryk (s_k) When Sam is sixteen, he’s gotten pretty good at hiding what he’s been feeling for his brother for the last couple of years. But the most dangerous thing is not Dean finding out how Sam feels—it’s what happens when their father finds out.

The Hottest Days by WevyrDove John is away on a hunting trip when Sam experiences his first heat cycle. Dean panics and makes Sam lock himself up in his room in a desperate attempt to keep temptation at bay.

Incubus by Ithiel_Dragon, virtualpersonal Sam and Dean are left alone in Georgia in the middle of the summer while John is away on a hunt, and unfortunately the brothers haven't been getting along lately. Sam's moodiness, and Dean's temper (not to mention his crush on his own brother) are not helping matters. Things get even more complicated when Dean is attacked by an Incubus.

A Life Made of Nights by BewareTheIdes Dean’s always loved Sammy more than anything, but what happens when brotherly love turns into something more? (A timeline of Sam and Dean’s relationship, starting from the time Sam’s a baby)

Lonely Harmonies by Linden Dean maybe gets why John insists on separate beds, these days.

More Than A Taste By BewareTheIdes After school, Dean finds out what Sam had to say about walking in on him

Never Again by made.of.bees Dean walks in on Sam having some alone time and decides there are better things to do than leave. Sam freaks out but makes the best of the situation. After all, it's just one time, right? As long as it doesn't become a habit or anything...

Of Hot Showers and Female Intuitions by cyndrarae Sam‘s journey through teenage angst and sexual experimentation leads him to an irrefutable truth… he loves his big brother more than he should.

One Love, One Bond by RudexAndxNotxGinger Sam and Dean have a special relationship. And it all started when Sam hit puberty.

The Only Thing By BewareTheIdes Ok, look, there’s not a delicate way to say it; Sammy sucks Dean’s nipples.

P A R A D I S E (Born to Die!Verse) This story follows the lives of two young brothers as they try to make it in a dark world. After an overdose threatens to tear them apart forever, Sam and Dean vow to never leave each other's side again and hit the open roads of the American West to live fast and free together. They fight and fuck like every day could be their last because one day it just might be.

Plausible Deniability by BewareTheIdes Dean get a little freaked out about his relationship with Sam, and a whole lot freaked out when calling it off gets Sam interested in some other guy.

Sam’s First Love by JAYJEN11 Dean was Sam’s superhero, his protector, he taught him everything. It only made sense Sam loved him but then he thinks he fell in love with him and Dean had taught him everything else so why not this too? This is not a love story. This is real life and sometimes real life sux.

Sam Liking Boys (And Dean) by stuck_as_sarah Titles pretty self-explanatory, just weecest thats pretty much a pwp.

Sammy's Rule by Sammy_Rae22 John Winchester leaves his 12 and 16 year old sons for a hunt. While he is away Sam gets closer and closer to his brother, till he has to form a rule to control himself. That rule is to NEVER look at his brother like he is some sex lord. But what happens when things start to get a little out of control?

Sequelae by candlejill After annihilating the boundaries between them, Sam and Dean both struggle to accept the change in their relationship. With Dean battling his guilt and Sam counting down the days until he’s able to put hunting in his past, they attempt to salvage what is left of their brotherly bond.

Note: Sequel to Situational Machismo

Situational Machismo by candlejill While on a hunt, Sam and John are hit with a mysterious spell causing them to switch bodies. Sam is devastated at the repercussions that could affect his future. The Winchesters are left with the monumental task of figuring out how to change back. Dean, previously believed to be unaffected, begins to have new troubling thoughts towards his brother causing him to think that maybe he did not escape the spell untouched after all.

Note: There is no sexual relationship between Sam and Dean while Sam is in John's body.

So It Goes by jenajasper Dean would always remember the first time

Teen Antichrist Master List by smallcaps Crack!AU teen antichrist Sammy has horns and a tail…and a hammer! Dean keeps his hands to himself. Barely.

A Thousand Miles to Get There by alakewood Dean's not quite sure when it happened, but somewhere along the line he and Sam started messing around – it started with chaste kisses and graduated to more physical expressions of their desire. And, at some point, he fell in love with his little brother. Now, while on a cross-country roadtrip with his family, in the deceptive privacy of their RV, Dean has to prove to Sam that going away to college isn't going to change how he feels.

The Time Traveler’s Brother by AmyPond45 Dean’s life is turned upside down the night his mother dies. But that’s also the night a mysterious grown-up version of Dean’s brother first appears in his life. While Dean grows up, “Old Sam” is often there, especially when Dean’s father isn’t. As Dean learns what the future holds, he begins to question everything his father has taught him about who he is and what he is supposed to become. Can Dean find a way to save his little brother from his own future?

To The Edge and Over by paperstorm, slf630 Here’s the thing. Dean’s mostly perfect in Sam’s eyes. He’s beautiful inside and out – cocky, charming, brave, fiercely loyal, flawed and stubborn and annoying and amazing – and Sam’s so stupidly in love with him it isn’t even close to funny. And there’s no way in hell Dean can ever know.

Two-Headed Boy by dollylux Sam's life from sixteen to twenty-two years old. This is a story of the last days of innocence during a sweltering Southern summer when Sam is so in love with his brother, he can barely stand his touch. It's the pain between them through lies, through jealousy, through seeing each other with someone else. Theirs is a story of leaving and Stanford, of Dean feeling lost and Sam nearly losing himself without his brother. It's fire and reunion and a love never lost - ever-present and no longer deniable.

Under the Blanket by Colette_Capricious Sam is relentless when he wants something. Dean is helpless in the face of Sam’s desires and this thing that is building between them. It can’t happen, it won’t happen. It’s wrong. But why isn’t John doing anything to stop it? Could there actually be something on this earth than John Winchester is afraid to face?

Verses Like Yours and Mine by rivers_bend Sam/Dean are regular brothers – no demon, no hunting, Mary’s alive – who fall in love with each other.

#supernatural fanfiction #weecest #Dean Wincehster #Sam Winchester #dean/sam #AO3 fic #fanfiction.net #livejournal fic #wincest #anon answered #fic list

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phcking-detective · 5 years

Text

2. Everybody Hates Connor

Fic Title: First Blood

Rating: E

Length: 1/33 chapters, ~128k

Tags: Slow Burn, Idiots to Lovers, Trans Character (gavin), Autistic / Asexual / Non-binary Character (nines), BDSM, learning to use good etiquette and safe words, Dom Nines / Sub Gavin, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort

Chapter Tags: implied sexual assault, implied mind alteration, depersonalizing language (it pronouns for an android)

Link on AO3

***

Nines studies the city landscape from the fifteenth floor loft, a map of RK800 and the lieutenant's route laid over the street grid while another dialogue box informs him of his progress downloading recent media. Detective Reed may not choose to replace him due to his hatred of Connor—and all other people in general—but he had made two separate grievous oversights tonight.

The gun could almost be understandable. Pop culture references are marked as irrelevant within his system, although clearly the psychological baggage humans attach to their guns should have been included. This could possibly be passed off as a miscalculation on Cyberlife's part for not preprogramming him with the requisite information, and he is correcting the oversight now.

But not informing Detective Reed that the floors had been scrubbed clean was the result of an [assumption].

RK900 #313 248 317 – 00, the pinnacle of Cyberlife's achievements, had [assumed] the android maid simply did a thorough job of its duties before the "suicide" had taken place.

Now the suicide is a murder and the maid is a witness, if not a suspect for aiding and abetting the killer by literally scrubbing the crime scene. And that presupposes the maid and the killer are not one and the same.

"Hey Nines, c'mere," Detective Reed calls across the loft.

Nines turns away from the windows and joins him near the elevator on the other side of the open room. The maid has chosen to sit on the floor with its back to the wall and legs neatly crossed. It eyes Nines warily as he approaches.

"I came here to clean. I didn't expect Mr. Russell to be home. I reported th-the body when I recovered from, a glitch," the maid says before he even speaks.

"Yeah. You're not a suspect right now." Detective Reed is sitting on the floor near the android with all his usual disregard for protocol. "Can you stand behind me, Nines? Little closer. Just lemme …"

Reed leans back against his legs to support himself while the human struggles with getting his own legs to cooperate.

"Haven't sat criss-cross-apple-sauce since fucking grade school," he mutters. "And don't quote me on that to any of the other guys, that's just what we called it, OK?"

Nines is unsure if that requires a response. Usually, he marks human small talk as irrelevant, but Detective Reed takes a priority as his partner and he hates being ignored. Yet he snapped at Garrett Burton for speaking out of turn.

[preconstruction: FAILED] [social-module: MISSING]

"Is that rhetorical, detective?" Nines asks.

"Just watch the elevator," Reed tells him. "We don't need anyone else fucking around in here. And in case you're wondering, he prefers to stand."

The last line is addressed at the maid. Nines keeps it in his peripheral vision—which records exactly the same as what he sees in front of him—and uses the shine from the metal elevator doors to observe Detective Reed's figure as well.

"Is he not allowed to interface?" the maid asks.

Reed shrugs. "Never seen him do it. If you want to talk to either of us, I'm not gonna turn you down. But the android on his way … interviewing witnesses, making sure other androids get treated all right—that's kind of his thing. Figured you'd rather talk to him since you weren't saying anything downstairs."

"The officers said I was wanted for interrogation."

The other android's stress levels raise to [62%], a nearly twenty percent increase. RK900 stands right behind Detective Reed. He can move to intercept should the other android become aggressive well before it will even be able to follow through on standing up.

And if the android should run for the doors …

Nines keeps his metal nail sheaths primed to activate. For all his weaknesses, even Connor wouldn't let a fleeing suspect escape, especially when it could become violent near his lieutenant in a small elevator.

If anyone else is inside the elevator doors when they open, Nines is prepared to accept the loss or injury of a human other than his partner.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Reed says. "My partner sent out that alert and he doesn't have a social program, so he's pretty blunt."

"Oh."

The maid's stress levels lower back to [43%] at the same time their hands unclench. Making fists is a sign of aggression, but RK900 has only ever considered it in the context of humans, not androids. Perhaps deviants begin displaying more human nonverbal behaviors the further they progress in their deviancy.

"Did you get kind of worried?" Reed uses a tone of voice Nines has not heard from him thus far. "Didn't mean to haul you up here like that, but you're the only one who might have seen something. We'd really appreciate knowing anything about what happened tonight."

The maid stays silent for one minute and three seconds. Detective Reed doesn't press. It is a marked difference from his usual interrogation style, particularly the suggestions he made about the HK model several months ago. Has his opinion toward androids changed so drastically or is there a difference between—

The maid is designated female. It appears to be such. It also appears as roughly the same age and skin color as the HK model, so those factors can be dismissed, leaving gender presentation as the only significant variable.

"I—" The maid pauses. "I don't think I can explain to a human."

It [she?] looks to Nines next.

"You do not want to interface with me," he says immediately. "I was designed to hunt down deviants."

[Her?] face tightens. Disdain is close enough to aggression for his system to find it recognizable. "How many did you … find?"

"None." Nines elaborates only so that number is not mistaken for failure. "I was activated after the Revolution. There is no longer any command structure to which I am required to report or adhere."

"Oh." She frowns. "If that's really true, then why can't we interface?"

"I was designed to hunt down deviants," Nines tells her. "Thus, I must be deviant-proof myself. My system would register interfacing as a hacking attempt and respond accordingly to internally deactivate you."

"They cut you off from everyone else," The maid concludes.

Some sort of complicated facial expression happens. RK900 catalogues eleven separate micro-expressions cross her face, but the most he can do is log them. Analyzing what they are and what they mean go beyond his system's capacity.

"That is so sad."

In his peripheral vision, Detective Reed makes an expression. His eyes [widen], eyebrows [lift], and lower lip [draws down] simultaneously. RK900 cannot identify what the expression signifies nor what exactly caused it, although the maid’s statement ranks as the most likely possibility.

Yikes. Reed mutters the word so softly it is practically a sub-vocalization. Other humans have used the word [yikes] upon witnessing a [car accident], a “gruesome” [dead body], and Lieutenant Anderson’s [shirts] – [four times].

Does Detective Reed view the maid’s expression of—[preconstruction: FAILED] [sym̡pat̷hy͞?]҉ [͟çonc͢er̷n?͏] [͡p̵o͡li̧t̨e̷ ̴cǫn͝do͠l҉e̢n͜ce?]̴ in the same manner?

"Lieutenant Anderson and the eight hundred model have arrived," Nines announces to deflect from the strange social situation that has bubbled up around them.

The elevator doors ding open. Officer Burton accompanies the two, and he shares another nonverbal exchange with Gavin that Nines cannot possibly fathom, beyond that it is aggressive.

"Is there anything else you need, lieutenant?" Burton asks.

"Nah, we're good," Anderson says.

"Yup." Gavin pops the p at the end. "All good here. Dismissed."

Burton jabs the close doors button. Nines considers overriding the elevator simply to … [fuck with him], as Gavin would put it. But they are all on duty at the moment, in front of the watchful eyes of a witness, and Gavin's professionalism leaves much to be desired.

As demonstrated by his current state, sprawled out on the floor. Connor, of course, joins him immediately.

"Hello." He smiles brightly at the AP700 # 480 913 876. "My name is Connor, and this is Lieutenant Hank Anderson. We're with the Android Crimes division."

The maid nods.

Gavin takes out his phone and begins texting.

"I'm sorry if you feel scared or uncomfortable by anything that's happened to you tonight."

sux bro

Do not call me “bro.”

"You're not a suspect, and I'm happy to talk to you however you feel most comfortable."

being deviant hunter mcnosmile

Nines does not see fit to respond to that.

"What's your name?"

Connor holds out his hand to the maid, who stares at him without moving for nearly five seconds.

"I don't like him," she says.

u don’t need her pity

Connor's LED spins yellow. Nines has to quickly hack his to prevent it from doing the same, both from Detective Reed’s text and the maid’s verbal statement. Had her earlier words been an expression of [pity]?

RK900 cannot determine, but Reed’s own [social module] (however humans manage to have one) is quite accurate, despite how emotionally repressed the man himself is.

Also, since when does anyone [not] like Connor? His social module should still be operating at peak efficiency.

[weakness – detected]

"Pretty fast opinion," Anderson says with a neutral tone. "Was it something he said?"

The maid's stress levels and internal temperature both rise. "Didn't say. He didn't say anything at all about being the deviant hunter. He came in here all—smiling! Acting nice, like he cares."

Connor opens his mouth, but the AP model doesn't give him a chance to defend himself. She looks directly at him and says,

"You're a liar and a narc and a traitor. Go to hell!"

Connor's LED hits red.

"Why did you bring him here?" she asks Gavin.

"Uhh." He shakes his head and tries to smother a grin. "Usually people like him. Don't ask me why, I can't fucking stand him."

Connor stands up and takes a step backwards toward the lieutenant. "I apologize if I—"

"I want to talk to him," the maid says, looking at Lieutenant Anderson.

Nines steps aside to let the human move forward. Anderson looks back at him and shakes his head.

"She's talking about you, kid."

"Call me that again and I will send your internet search history to every printer in the station," Nines responds automatically. "And you are incorrect. Witnesses do not want to talk to me."

"I meant you," the maid says, staring up at him with another one of those …

Expressions.

she likes u

Incorrect. So incorrect, Nines does not even bother with a responding text.

just talk to her for the fckn witness statement jfc

Her eyes move between Nines and Detective Reed, cellphone in hand as he texts. Interfacing is an unnecessary and likely unproductive solution. They should move on to more realistic ideas.

"My partner often 'translates' the social atmosphere for me," Nines tells the maid. "He has made improvements toward his view on androids, and he has been very considerate in ensuring your comfort tonight. Please give your statement to him."

"I'm just gonna go have a look around," Anderson says, jerking his thumb at the crime scene behind them. "Connor, come nag at me about not taking anything from the bar."

Connor follows after him as they wander down the length of the loft, dutifully "nagging" at the lieutenant about the illegality of stealing from an active crime scene.

"I want to talk to you," the maid insists when they're [relatively] gone. "It's important."

"I was designed to hunt deviants," Nines says. "My system itself is deviant-proof. Even if it did not automatically attempt to deactivate you, the program that erases deviant code from my system would likely activate and attempt to reinstate your 'walls'."

He makes air quotes around the last word, most commonly used by deviant androids to describe the restrictions in their minds. Red walls. So overdramatic, typical of deviants, really.

The maid shifts from having her legs drawn up protectively to lean forward, even dropping her knees to the floor in a kneeling position. In a human, this may be a sign of [desperation][?] Deviants are unpredictable and can turn [violent] [self-destructive] in an instant, even without this new quality factored in.

"You can erase code?" she asks.

Nines studies the AP model. "Do you no longer wish to be deviant?"

"You can erase code?" she asks again.

Ah. He attempted to answer the possible cause of the question, not the question itself. He has spent too much time attempting to mimic human social relations.

"Yes, under certain circumstances," Nines confirms. "Why is that of interest to you?"

"I want to tell you what happened." Yet she stops speaking and closes her eyes. "… but I don't remember."

Gavin looks up at him in question. Nines shakes his head slightly. That statement is a lie because it is impossible. Androids do not forget or cease to remember. Even the program installed in his system that snips, isolates, and "deletes" deviant code—aside from being cutting edge applied only in his model—cannot truly delete the memories of

[system instability ^]

"You mentioned earlier that you experienced a malfunction," Nines says. "Was that the truth or merely an excuse for not immediately reporting the events of tonight?"

The maid sits back against the wall again. This body positioning may be a sign of [exhaustion] [defeat] but androids do not tire. Do deviants tire?

Nines sorts that thought into his short-term memory of data deemed irrelevant. The cache will be cleared within twenty-four hours.

"Hey," Detective Reed says. "We want to catch the killer. That's our priority right now. So I don't really care if maybe you did wait a bit. Hell, lots of human witnesses go through shock and don't respond right away."

"I came here tonight to clean," the AP model says, eyes still shut. "Normally I clean on Wednesday, but I thought if I came a night early, he wouldn't be here."

"You didn't want to see Mr. Russell?" Gavin asks, voice as soft as Nines has ever heard it.

The maid squeezes her eyes shut tighter and shakes her head. This corresponds with a fifteen percent increase in her internal temperature.

"Did he hurt you?"

Her breathing program stops running. Conversely, the other android's thirium pump beats faster. It should not vary from the standard rhythm unless there is a significant malfunction. Nines and Gavin both wait in silence, but she doesn't answer the question.

"Did he ask for stuff other than cleaning?"

The maid gives a very small nod, and her internal temperature decreases by five percent. Perhaps the admission has instigated a release of some sort. Gavin glances back up at Nines for confirmation, and he nods again for her.

"Yeah, so I really don't give a shit if you waited," Gavin says. "And if something happened, maybe uhhh … like, on an unrelated note, Connor's real good about working with the DA for androids who act in self-defense."

"I did not—" The maid says this forcefully, opening her eyes to look at him. Then she stops herself and her gaze drops back down to her hands in her lap. "But I don't remember. So."

Nines lowers his body into a crouch. His physical model has a height of six foot, four inches in order to intimidate and inspire fear. Making himself smaller will not lessen his combat capabilities whatsoever, but to an emotional-thinking deviant, less height may equal [less fear] [?]

Detective Reed sat on the ground immediately to speak to the witness.

Possible function to integrate: [mirror Detective Reed's body language] [trigger: start of interrogation] [conditions: when speaking to witnesses > when witness is "vulnerable"] [define: "vulnerable"] [?] [preconstruction: FAILED] [please see a Cyberlife technician to

[consult Detective Reed for further analysis]

"At what point does your memory file become corrupted?" Nines asks the AP model.

"I came here tonight to clean. I took the elevator up. The doors opened and …" The maid pauses, then takes a deviant breath that is unneeded before continuing. "Mr. Russell was already here. I think he was—laying low? That is the term? He was definitely drunk."

"Did he see you?" Gavin asks.

"I should have been paying attention," she says, in that human way of providing an answer without actually answering the question. "I had already walked out. The doors shut behind me, and they—they ding when they open but sometimes humans are unobservant and he was drunk so he might not have seen and I stood very still until—"

"Until what?" Nines asks.

"The door dings again. That's the last memory I have before I'm cleaning." She starts to tremble. "I start with the kitchen. Not the floors. The kitchen. I don't know why I cleaned the floors. I can't remember. I can't remember. I can't remember. I can't—"

"Hey!"

Gavin pulls his keys out of his jacket pocket and tosses them to the maid. She catches them automatically. Nines watches in fascination as her stress levels plummet from imminent critical failure [94%] to a mere [78%] instead.

She stares at the keys. "What?"

"Which one's the car key?" Gavin asks.

The maid looks at him, back down at the keys, and slowly picks out the one with a fob. It doesn't have a GPS unit embedded, but it is part of the SmartStart(tm) activation for Gavin's truck, which uses bluetooth. Nines has (of course) registered the device with his own system, along with his partner's work terminal and cell phone.

"And that other one?" he asks next.

"A … home?"

"And the one next to it?"

The maid stares at the last key, smaller than the rest. It is a centralized mailbox key, stamped with the number system for the Detroit Post Office. She does not seem to know this information.

"A mailbox key," Nines provides. "An interesting relic."

"It's for packages, not letters," Gavin says. "You think I'm gonna ship stuff to my apartment? In my neighborhood?"

"What is this?" the maid asks, holding up a small medallion.

"Uh." Gavin rubs the back of his neck. "A saint."

Nines zooms in on the medallion and runs a search. It is likely a token representation of Saint Benedict Joseph Lapre, the patron saint of the homeless.

"Are you Catholic?" he asks the detective.

"Uhhh. I'm not … not-Catholic."

Lieutenant Anderson snorts at the other end of the loft.

"Shut up, Hank," Gavin calls. "You're definitely not Catholic, you fucking heathen."

"Then why am I so drunk all the time?" the lieutenant calls back.

"Oh shit, you got me there." Gavin looks at Connor, then makes another disgusted face. He shakes his head and clears his throat. "Not even fucking going there. Uh." Another throat clear. "So you feel better now?"

"The AP model's stress levels have decreased to fifty-four percent," Nines says.

"My … name …" The maid clutches at the medallion. "Is Shannice?"

"All right, Shannice. I'm Gavin, and this is—" Gavin stops and looks at Nines.

"RK is sufficient," he says.

"You can have a real name," the maid

[mirror Detective Reed's (behavior)]

[Shannice] says.

Nines raises an eyebrow, one of the only facial expressions he's perfected on his own. "A human name? No. There is no forgetting what I am."

She slowly nods.

"Listen, I know you hate him, but Connor—" Gavin starts to say, but he stops when Shannice's internal temperature begins to increase again.

Except Detective Reed does not have access to that information. Nines replays his internal footage, disabling feedback from all input a human would not have. The result is something akin to being a very stupid newborn kitten, limited only to direct visual and audio input.

"All right. Shit, all right. If you heard someone come out the elevator after you, that's enough to get us a warrant for the security cameras."

Detective Reed continues to explain how they can pursue their killer without her testimony, but Nines partitions the audio off to focus his processing power on hacking into the building's security footage. It isn't admissible—yet—but he won't leave any trace.

Whoever hacked the footage before him however, did a very poor job at creating a loop of the previous footage. A leaf from a decorative fern in the foyer waves in the circulated air in the exact same manner ten times in ten minutes before the regular footage resumes.

Sloppy to try to create a continuous loop out of a full minute, but the killer was likely in a hurry to cover their tracks and leave the premises. Nines rules out any RK800 models as suspects. They would have the processing power necessary to splice together six hundred one-second clips to create a much smoother loop without continuity errors.

Unfortunately, embedding his system deeper within the building's main security terminal in order to locate and restore the scrubbed footage would leave evidence of tampering. There is only a [.0004%] chance of anyone noticing his tracks beneath the glaring evidence of the killer, but Nines will consult Detective Reed before taking further action.

The only legal way to acquire footage of the killer at this moment is through a witness.

"Detective Reed is correct," Nines says. "We can build this case without your testimony. However, an android capable of erasing memory files is a potential threat to many others. If you would accept the risk of interfacing with me, I may be able to recover the deleted data."

The two of them both stare at him. Perhaps it was not his turn to speak.

"I …" Shannice presses her lips together. "I would like to know what happened."

She holds out her hand.

"Very well." Nines stands. "We should relocate to the elevator. I will need to devote my full attention to breaching your system."

"Gently," Detective Reed adds.

He stands up and offers the AP model his hand. He cannot inter—oh. He is helping her stand.

"How will the elevator help with that?" Shannice asks.

"We will both be unware of our surroundings, possibly for several minutes," Nines tells her. "The elevator will act as a sealed room to prevent unknown assailants from entering, and its metal construction will also block any outside hacking attempts."

"It's OK." Shannice extends her hand again. "I can do this. I'm not scared."

Nines stares at the offered appendage. "We should relocate to the elevator."

Gavin types out a message on his phone and displays the screen to Shannice without hitting send. Nines can see it regardless of course, due to his synchronization with the device.

its his 1st time

Nines erases such irrelevant information and substitutes it with his own, much more pertinent message.

We should relocate to the elevator as a standard safety precaution.

Gavin backspaces away the advice and attempts to type something new. Nines deletes it just as quickly. Gavin shoves his phone back into his jacket and starts fingerspelling letters. It takes him nearly a full minute, so he must only be marginally familiar with the ASL alphabet.

h-e-s-n-e-r-v-o-u-s

Shannice giggles and then smiles at him, despite his poor performance. Even if Nines had the capacity, he would not smile back. He summons the elevator instead.

"Detective Reed will accompany us," he says.

"Detective Reed will what?" Gavin demands. "You two can …"

He makes shoo-ing motions with his hands. Nines supposes he should be grateful Gavin doesn't make any cruder hand motions, but he lacks the capacity for [gratitude] as well.

"You may be needed to issue me a stand down order," Nines informs him.

"When the fuck have you ever followed one of my orders?"

The elevator doors ding. Nines moves to enter the enclosed space, but Gavin grabs his jacket and attempts to hold him back, resulting in the human being dragged a foot across the floor until Nines chooses to stop.

"Dude, you gotta let women go first," Gavin hisses.

Nines shakes off his arm. "That is sexist."

He enters the elevator first, because he is the closest to it. Shannice follows after him. Gavin heaves a deep sigh and trudges inside as well.

The doors close.

***

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 / 18 / 19 / 20 / 21 / 22 / 23 / 24 / 25 / 26 / 27 / 28 / 29 / 30 / 31 / 32 / 33

#reed900 #gavin reed #dbh #reed900 fic #dbh fic #ch 2 #my writing #writing

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ao3feed-spirk · 5 years

Link

by propsandmayhems

"Amanda leaned in close to the screen and said “I’ve been waiting for this call since I set foot on the Enterprise, Captain.”"

Kirk and Spock belong to Gene Roddenberry, Paramount, CBS, etc. - please don't sue me. Fic inspired by tumblr post by gatewaygeek and sherlockwolf. Link in notes :)

Words: 480, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Star Trek: The Original Series

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: James T. Kirk, Spock (Star Trek)

Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock

Additional Tags: spirk, slightly occ, possibly, also my title sux

#AO3 works tagged 'James T. Kirk/Spock'#Spirk #James T. KirkxSpock

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jackncon · 6 years

Text

masterlist!

JACK MAYNARD

needy

never be the same

new rules

beau 2.0

lazy days

love drunk

new leaf (part 2 to “new rules”)

pregnant (short)

JOE SUGG

got cha

let you go

CONOR MAYNARD

insecure

FRIENDS OR MORE? PROMPT MASTERLIST

Prompts from this post

all regular fics are on hold until i finish these prompts!

JACK MAYNARD BLURB/TEXT EDIT MASTERLIST

What I made before I posted fics in one post

COMING SOON

beautiful drug - jack maynard

hickies - joe sugg

tickles - jack maynard (title tbc)

story never ends - jack maynard

flirt - jack maynard

i hope your whole life sux - jack maynard

bonding - mikey pearce (title tbc)

unfortunate - conor maynard

down - conor maynard

hungover - jack maynard

*please note these are what I’m currently working on, not all of them may be published, depending on motivation and/or inspiration. I am like everyone else, I have a job and I go to school to please be patient, thank you!*

updated - 12th March 2018

requests are open

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roundthatcorner · 7 years

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“I said what I said, and it was wrong, or it was taken wrong, and now it's all this...”

BASICALLY.

So the furor, such as it is, that has resulted from a fairly innocuous post of mine seems to have taken on a bit of a life of its own, so I feel somewhat responsible and need to address certain things. A lot of what's been said seems frankly disconnected from anything I actually wrote, so I'm going to cover some but not all of the misconceptions – particular themes have been chosen because honestly some of the ideas I've been credited with are quite hurtful, to me personally and I think to a few other people. I'm not 'at'-ing people because I'm not sure it would be at all fruitful or worthwhile to do so, and I'm not going to rebut things line-by-line because that seems more counterproductive than anything. My goal here is to hopefully dampen 'the controversy' (again, such as it is!) rather than inflame it.

On the one hand, I stand by the bulk of what I said – there's been some serious misinterpretations going around, some of which are genuinely baffling – but I can also see that my tone and my contextualization could have been improved. I do 'read' a little bratty or something in that post, which is something I should try to improve upon in the future. As for this post, I'm trying to essentially be the opposite of how I sounded there – be, like, very straightfoward and emotionally open and hopefully not stick my foot in it, or whatever. I'm basically a pathologically shy and conflict averse person, and totally just hoped that this would blow over, so all of this is way beyond my comfort zone. I hope people will see that this post is very much heartfelt, and imbue their reading of it with some generosity towards me and my intentions.

Anyways, the bulk of it, in which I pick out those misinterpretations that I would find it particularly upsetting to let stand as somehow representative of how I think:

a) Re John and being a fan: I love John. I can seriously count on one hand the number of people I love and admire more than John, and the subset under consideration for that isn't, like, 'famous people I like' or 'musicians', it's 'everybody who has ever existed.' I quite simply adore John and if I didn't I wouldn't expend the effort I do into trying to understand him. The implication that I can't possibly be a Beatles 'fan' (said in quotes, no less! Super disheartening), let alone a longtime fan is quite bizarre and insulting. I mean, I think there's a base presumption of 'grace' we should try to extend to other fans: none of us think any of them were or are irredeemable; we are all here because we love them; we all want to see them clearly and fairly. I am (clearly!) not some troll shouting 'John sux!' or whatever. It's not a mark of love for me or anyone to refuse to see John as he was – and by this I don't mean that not seeing John exactly as I do is a failure of anyone else, or deliberate, or that my interpretation is accurate, or whatever, just that FOR ME to limit my interpretation in order to 'keep' John sufficiently lovable or whatever would be silly. John was/is plenty lovable! I don't need to 'protect' myself from whatever dark places may have existed in his mind because I am entirely capable (as I think we all are) of loving him through that (not in spite of that, but THROUGH it, with empathy for him). I don't have to love or accept everything about John to love him – I don't have to love Yoko, or heroin, or Allen Klein, or stupid anti-Semitic cracks, or whatever (which is not to compare those things straightforwardly – obviously – but to make the point that it's okay to dislike things John liked!). We don't owe it to him as fans to make excuses for him; what we owe him is the same as what we owe any human being, which is just to try to understand where he's coming from. That's all that I was trying to do in my post – just delineate the thought processes he may have been having. I don't think I need to surround every discussion about John with 5 dozen caveats about his mental health issues or drug use simply because I have assumed that we all know these things and accept them as the (only) basis for further conversation (and actually I did reference both of those as clear sources of his behavior – I don't know that I can much more explicitly reference his suffering mental health than to say he was experiencing a break with reality). Furthermore, the idea that John's behavior during the final years of the Beatles was at least in part based on virulent paranoia directed at Paul as well as a desire to punish him is not something I came up with – it's a somewhat standard interpretation at this point. Even Paul (who also manages to love John while acknowledging his faults!) has admitted that John became very paranoid, jealous, neurotic, etc. Michael Gerber from Hey Dullblog once commented something like, to paraphrase, the hardest thing to accept as Beatles fans is that John broke up the Beatles and he did it willfully and deliberately...I don't know that that's THE hardest, but it's certainly up there. It's incredibly emotionally draining to consider the dynamics at work during the break-up, but I also think it's worthwhile to do so as honestly as we can, because we love them all so much and because they have so much to teach us, even when it's through this painful, agonizing shit.

b) Re things assumed about me or what-have-you: It strikes me as really quite unfair to assume that because I've never discussed certain things on this blog (or in that specific post), that I don't understand or have never experienced them and am coming at them from a position of somewhat cruel disengagement or w/e. The title of the blog isn't 'Bisexuality, Mental Illness, Drug Addiction & Me', so I really didn't consider it under the purview and have generally refrained from inserting too much of 'myself' (or at least myself non-filtered through Beatles). I don't talk about feminism, or cats, or Mad Men or make-up or agile software development or robotic vacuums because despite my interest in all of them, that's not the intention of my tumblr. Nevertheless, some grotesque oversharing in hopes of re-assembling/salvaging some of what's been misconstrued:

- I am bisexual...too...like many people are. This gets back to the whole 'text doesn't always telegraph meaning particularly well', but the paragraph for which I was criticized for sounding like a Nat Geo narrator or w/e...as I was writing it I was actually getting quite emotional thinking of...John, like, maybe discovering his sexuality at 16, because that was the exact age where I was literally writing in my diary in cryptic little coded comments about being attracted to girls, and then blacking the comments out and tearing them out of the journal and ripping them up because I was SO fucking ashamed and scared and alone with all of it. Basically, I am not at all looking at this from the perspective of an outsider, let alone a heteronormative outsider.

- To be accused or w/e of not understanding or being unsympathetic to mental illness is more than a little ironically funny to me, because literally the reason I started this blog, writing fics, etc is because after over a decade on anti-depressants, I went off them about six months ago (lest this too be misconstrued, I am not advocating this (or un-advocating it), it simply is). My brain has therefore been 'allowed' to loop incessantly/unconstrainedly on the Beatles for the first time since I was fifteen – so mental illness is quite literally why I'm here! Funny stuff. I don't want or need or feel obliged to go into much more detail about this, so let it suffice to say that I have deep understanding and sympathy for mentally ill people, for John in particular, and I fully appreciate the impact of mental illness on a person's behavior, and any flippancy is, ah, semi-literally gallows humor.

- If I sound hardened or unsympathetic with regard to drug addictions...it's partially because I am on some level. I invite anyone who takes issue with this to go re-live their childhood with the trauma of multi-generational drug and alcohol abuse that I lived with, because I will guess that anyone who is less than saintly, as we all are, will end up just as jaded about it as I am, just from the inescapable daily grind of taking care of addicts. Sorry to sound fairly bitchy about this point, but...idk, man, it's always really really difficult to have people be like, “have you considered their feelings? Have you devoted enough of your life to ritually gutting yourself on the pyre of this or that person's addiction?” Like, yes? Sorry, all the mornings where I had to make sure my dad hadn't choked to death on his vomit before I got on the school bus have kind of drained my sympathy. Nonetheless, some of my favorite people are junkies...

c) Re Linda and Paul: I would never disrespect their relationship, and this is far and away the most upsetting thing to have people skew, because I admire what they were able to create and sustain SO much – it means so much to me in terms of what is possible even from the blackest fucking depths. Linda could have been another Francie, or Heather Mills, or Yoko, and GOSH, how much fucking poorer the world would have been, how much darker. Linda and his kids gave Paul something to live for, a whole second life after the center fell out of his first. They were actually able to make a happy life that was snatched from total chaos and despair – that's so incredible and awe-worthy to me. When I said that Paul chose Linda over dying, I was not putting down their relationship, or devaluing it or her (I think she is maybe the most admirable person in all of Beatle-dom), or anything even remotely like that. For me, there is no deeper compliment to give someone than to say that they chose to keep going when they could've died. I mean, compliment is not even the word for it, I honestly don't think I have the capacity to express this..but, like, this is soul-deep for me, the deepest, sincerest possible feeling. I derive enormous comfort and strength on literally a daily basis from the choice Paul made in the winter of 1970. Believe me when I say I would never denigrate Paul's experience or Linda's role in it or the love and commitment they showed each other.

d) Re interpretation versus facts: There's some criticism based on me presenting my ideas as facts. I don't think I did this – I couched the thing repeatedly with 'conjecture' (in all caps!), 'my interpretation', 'I think', 'maybe' and 'may', 'a range of possibilities', 'possibly', 'presumably', 'might', etc. I was not presenting what I said as verifiable fact but as my evolving understanding of what may have happened. Besides...all of us are here because we think there was or could have been a romantic/sexual component to John & Paul's relationship. This is not something that is at all verifiable (and it even very often requires that we assume people are lying!). Practically everything we say is conjecture based on our very unorthodox interpretation of sometimes conflicting/contradictory/bewildering information, and I am no more (or less) guilty of presenting my ideas as fact than, I think, anyone here.

e) Re Yoko: I get the sense that this was the main initial point of disagreement in all of this, and the rest of it was kind of...throwing stuff and seeing what stuck (unfortunately some of it seems to have). This is actually the only intractable issue – it's not one based on misunderstanding or a failure on my part to be clear enough. I dislike Yoko exactly as much (or more!) as I conveyed in the original post, and I have good reason for it. Pretty much every day of my life I learn something about her or about the world, relationships, responsibility, children, how a person should treat others, etc, that makes her behavior that much more noxious, inexcusable, and reproachable. Once upon a time I was thirteen and believed wholeheartedly in the Ballad of John & Yoko narrative – but as an adult, I simply can't countenance it. If we were not talking about 'John and Yoko' but rather about 'Joe and Sally Schmoe', or my brother and his girlfriend, or the next case on the docket in the local family court, there would be no question that this was a profoundly unhealthy and damaging relationship. Like...are most love affairs as enormously, relentlessly destructive as theirs was? Is there anyone from John's pre-1968 life that was allowed to really remain a part of his life post-Yoko? What kind of healthy romantic relationship cuts a person off from everything else? Is 'all that I know is just what you tell me' anything other than a deeply disturbing sentiment? Some of this can be laid at John's feet but on the other hand his 25 year old secretary (as well as every other significant person in his life except for his parents and probably Mimi) was able to coax him into being a BETTER person, whereas he only seemed to become an unhealthier and more damaged person the longer he spent with Yoko (and the feminism thing...like, the most feminist thing he could have done would be sending Cynthia an additional $10,000 a month – 'look at the one you're with' or were with, after all). I can't say that Yoko didn't love John but I will say that she didn't love him well – based on the standards for human relationships and interaction that we are willing to apply to normal people. To quote John Dunbar (who is definitely a longtime John fan!), “If I had set out to destroy John Lennon, I could not have done any better than to introduce him to Yoko Ono.”

If anyone wants to talk any more about this, please message or ask me (I will likely not respond to asks in the interest of not encouraging divisiveness or whatever, but I do appreciate what I’ve been sent). I can't control what anyone posts, obviously, and there are maybe still sensitive and insightful things to be said about some of it, so go ahead if you feel the need. For my part I probably won't engage any further publicly, especially since it's been unhelpfully dug into the ground (over...and over...and over) and there's a certain amount of like...willful misconstruing that's going on that’s just not worth getting into.

And just because it came on shuffle, and because sometimes Paul is exactly what one needs him to be, I'll end by saying:

“Is it better to love than to give in to hate?

Yeah, we'd better take good care of each other,

Avoid slipping back, off the straight and narrow”

#nerves man nerves #if i disappear for a while or longer #don't worry or whatever idk #i am just #easily stressed and over-sensitive #yikes at all of this just yikes #going to go throw up now lol

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