#this is like also a serious question like how is the dynamic gonna change / shift over vol2 and s5

[inutaffy]

if joyce n hopper both survive after s4/s5 are they gonna move back to hawkins ? or .... does mike have convince his parents to move into the house next to will?

#stranger things #byler #mike wheeler #will byers #jopper this is assuming the fam is still together #ngl byers-hopper should move to hawkins again ... <3 #i miss them #small towns .......... they have a lot of memories #as u cna tell i used to live in a small town for the majority of my young life #this is like also a serious question like how is the dynamic gonna change / shift over vol2 and s5

[silverwhittlingknife]

Dick resurrecting Bruce via Lazarus Pit and his reasons for doing so left a bad taste in my mouth. Especially when Dick tried to talk Tim out of it. I don't like it. I wish Tim found out about it and... Had a serious discussion with him? Hit him? Left? I dunno.

Oh man, it's hard for me to talk about this one without the Doylist approach. I'm gonna come back to these panels, but I just want to leave them here as a contrast between how Dick is written in his solo vs. how he's written in Batman and Robin:

Dick: Tim... I ... where does it stop, right? What about your mom, then? My mom and dad? Bruce's...? (Nightwing 139)

Dick: This isn't just "loved ones," Alfie. It's Bruce Wayne, the Batman. He saved our lives, he saved the city and the world how many times? (Batman and Robin 9)

I have SUCH complicated feelings about the Morrison Batman and Robin run? I like a lot of the Dick-Damian-Alfred dynamics, and I love the idea of villain!Jason as a major antagonist for DickBats, and I love what I think is the concept of the Lazarus Pit arc, which is that Dick's slowly crumbling under the pressure of being Batman and Jason's taunting is the last straw that finally pushes him to make a terrible mistake.

But I don't like the execution of the Lazarus Pit arc, and the disregard for big chunks of post-Crisis continuity and characterization is sooo frustrating. ("I don't like to plan"/pro-Lazarus-Pit!Dick, cartoonishly-evil!Talia, redhead!Jason, etc.)

And yet. AND YET. So many of the concepts are so good! The execution is so messy, but the concepts are so good! I want to tear it all up and then put it lovingly back together but different sdfdsfs

I had a lot of thoughts, so below the cut:

Why characterizations in B&R are a huge departure from previous continuity (Doylist version)

Why the Lazarus Pit arc COULD BE SO GOOD though (and how we can make it work with Watsonian reasoning)

Finally getting back to your question - how would Tim react? (tl;dr probably with concern and worry?)

Characterization Changes

Just to give you a bit of an idea of how abrupt a departure B&R is from Dick's solo, here are some panels showing some major changes.

1) Dick on Lazarus Pits: Pro or Against?

Here's Dick arguing against using the Lazarus Pit and telling Tim it won't bring back the soul in Nightwing 139:

Here's Dick doubling down on the evilness of the Lazarus Pit when Ra's taunts him with it post-Bruce's death in Nightwing 152:

But here's Dick arguing that the Lazarus Pit will be fine and that he doesn't believe in "prophecies of doom" in Batman and Robin 7 (and indeed, also in B&R, he'll kill and resurrect Kate with zero consequences - convenient!):

2) Talia: protective or cruel?

Here's Talia worrying about Damian's safety and teaming up with the Batfamily to try to save him from Ra's in Resurrection:

But here's Talia smirking after telling Damian they're enemies now and she's going to replace him with a clone in Batman and Robin 12:

3) Dick and planning

Here's Dick-the-planner in Nightwing 142:

Tim: That's a lotta ordnance. Dick: Failing to prepare is preparing to fail.

But here's Dick the impulsive leap-before-you-look guy in Batman and Robin 9:

Dick: ... Okay, I'm sorry - I don't like to plan, I work without a net... I'm not Bruce.

4) Resurrection: the right choice or the wrong choice (part 2)

Here's Dick telling Tim he made the right choice (not trying to resurrect anyone) in Nightwing 139:

But here's Dick insisting that resurrecting Bruce would've been the right choice in Batman and Robin 9:

This is one of those "clearly some people were writing angry letters to the editor" moments sdfdsfds, because it's awkwardly attempting to address Dick's abrupt about-face but the writer still hasn't read the issues in question because

a) Alfred has no way of knowing Dick's previous stance and it's incredibly weird that he would, b) "cautioned against" the Pit is a lot milder than "had a fist-fight with Tim about it," c) Dick's argument has shifted from "the Pit is an eldritch evil that's untrustworthy and probably soulless" to "look, resurrection is a special thing, and not all loved ones are important enough for resurrection," which, uh, okayyyy, and d) Dick is still full-naming "Tim Drake" as if he's a business associate and they had an argument about how to properly file paperwork and now it looks like Tim Drake was right after all, as opposed to Dick's little brother that he had a huge fight with and who subsequently ran away from home insisting that their dad was alive and that he was gonna prove it and now it turns out their dad is alive

Why This Arc Could Be Great Though

Listen, Dick-driven-to-the-Lazarus-Pits is a great concept. I love narrative foils. I love Dick ending up in the exact same place that Tim was in Resurrection, and even though he knows better. I love Dick being that desperate. Here's the setup:

Damian's back gets broken, Alfred takes him to get emergency treatment from Talia but it's not clear if he'll recover,

villain!Jason taunts Dick about not caring about Bruce,

Dick's been slowly crumbling under the pressure of being Batman and between the guilt of Damian being injured and the blow of Jason's accusations (not to mention having to fight villain!Jason and get him arrested), this is the last straw,

he decides to resurrect Bruce even though he knows perfectly well this is a terrible idea because he was the one who talked Tim out of it

he heads off to do this incredibly stupid thing and nobody stops him because normally on the rare occasions Dick's out-of-control Tim shows up and stops him (Hugo Strange, the Joker) but Tim isn't here and actually the strain of that ongoing estrangement is probably also contributing to Dick's isolation and terrible decision-making

the attempted resurrection goes horribly and Dick has to fight a grotesque parody of his tragically-dead father

I love this idea!! I love it when characters make stupid emotional decisions with terrible consequences!! I love the ways Dick and Tim's arcs intersect and parallel each other!!

And I think this could absolutely be in-character for Dick. He knows it's wrong and a bad idea, but he's desperate and pushed to his limits and grasping at straws? Yeah. I can see it.

BUT yeah, not in love with the execution. My conclusion is that more people should write about this arc in fanfic. <3

How Would Tim React?

I think it depends on where you put Tim in the story?

Options that come to mind:

Tim finds out mid-adventure: Tim's semi-teaming-up with Ra's and underground in a League base - and suddenly he stumbles on Dick sneaking in with (apparently) Bruce's dead body! In this case, I think Tim's first reaction is defensiveness about his own behavior and assuming he's being spied on, and it only slowly dawns on him that Dick's up to something. I'd really want to somehow maneuver a physical fight where Tim tries to stop him, so you get a direct reversal of Resurrection, but mmmm I'm a little stuck on how to get there since Tim's working theory is that the body isn't Bruce's body, so I don't see why he'd be opposed to Dick dumping it in? But anyway, they should have a physical fight and a direct parallel where Tim realizes he needs to back off and let Dick decide, and then they hug ;_; I feel like to make this one work you need Tim really invested in stopping Dick, so uhhhhh maybe for some reason Tim's "rescue Bruce from time" plan requires the body of the clone? So Dick CAN'T put it in the Lazarus Pit, or Bruce will be LOST FOREVER?

Tim gets told about it after the fact: So uhhh for example, Ra's finds out about Dick's botched resurrection attempt and tells Tim about it in an attempt to paint Dick as a hypocrite/ entice Tim into using the Lazarus Pit. I feel like Tim would just straight-up not believe him? But let's say that Tim finds out for sure - either Dick admits it to him, or he sees some League recording, or whatever. I'm not really sure how Tim would react? Worried, probably, because it's out-of-character, and I feel like Tim might wonder if it's really him or if he's under magical influence or something? And uhhhh then ideally Tim realizes that no, it was because he was having a really hard time ;_; and then Tim is worried about him and comforting and/or apologetic and probably Dick is probably also apologetic and then they hug <3.

Alternate third terrible possibility: it is Bruce's body, he was dead and Tim was just in denial, Dick resurrects him but there are some kind of eldritch evil consequences, and then Dick has to call Tim back and they have to fight undead!Bruce together. I like this one >:D

#i have various scribbles of a semi-novelization of batman & robin in the thousand ninjas 'verse #because i am actually really attached to a lot of aspects of this goofy comic sdfdsfs #when it's good it's very good - it's just that when it's bad it's horrid #and isn't that all of comics in a nutshell.... #ask tag #dick & tim #dick grayson #tim drake

[courtney-deserved-better]

I’m curious about your writing process. Like do make outlines from start to finish, or plan things out as you go. I love how your writing feels so well written and planned out, like everything you write has some sort of payoff. Anyways sorry for rambling😅, have a good day❤️❤️❤️❤️

ooo this is such a great question! my long fics generally tend to be pretty planned out. but ive been learning recently that having less of a plan and just jumping into a story is actually better for my motivation and for plot points happening organically. part of the reason i tend to write competition fics as opposed to other settings is that the structure of total drama allows me to do less planning and rely on what comes up spontaneously because i already have a framework im operating within. so i tend to plan out elimination orders and general arcs for characters.

i would say of my long fics, slippery slopes is the most planned out, amicus curiae is somewhere in the middle, and reprised and the courtney time travel au are the least planned out. i had very specific scenes i wanted to have happen each chapter of slippery slopes and i think part of why it's a strong fic is because a lot was planned out in advance (like, months and months in advance). but there were still moments that surprised me (alejandro and courtney's friendship was never meant to happen) and caused me to deviate from my plan for the better.

i started writing amicus curiae on a whim and i got 40k words in before i realized that the courtnemma relationship would work way better if they actually knew each other before the fic started (originally they met on the show). it was a really good discovery but unfortunately meant i had to rewrite ~20 chapters to fit that which was a pain in the ass but ultimately for the better. amicus curiae was a fic where i was really figuring things out as they went along (i changed who the winners would be 3 times) but i still had a clear idea of the personal journeys i wanted the characters to go through that weren't necessarily reliant on the competition/structure (ask me about this more once im able to talk without spoiling it!!)

the courtney time travel au is a serious experiment in that its very focused on interpersonal relationship and yet almost no eliminations are planned out in advance. everything is very spontaneous despite being a rewrite of the first season both for me and for courtney in the fic. which i think helps it not become too rote! but i also have no idea how things are going to go from point a (the basic straining chapters, which i just finished) to point b (the post finale chapters).

im writing reprised for fun as something low stakes and silly (because i love amicus curiae but its angsty enough that writing it can be emotionally exhausting sometimes) and i have the elimination order decided and very basic arcs/plot points for some of the characters but its open ended enough that i can have fun with it! and it probably wont end being one of my more narratively strong fics but that's okay <3

one of my more recent struggles with amicus curiae has been spending so much time developing the alenoah and courtnemma relationships that i find myself going aaaaa!! how am i gonna get these two together before the fic is over?? its really taught me to have a clear idea of when character dynamics shift, especially for romantic ones that are going to get together sometime throughout the fic. i love pining but i find pining for almost the whole fic and then only having the characters get together and be in a relationship for like two seconds at the end to be somewhat narratively unsatisfying.

so yeah i would say i try to plan out the character & character relationship arcs and i use the structure of competition fics for framework, but i don't plan out many details/specific scenes before i write them unless they pop into my head and then ill write the idea down and come back to it when its time to write the scene. i find that not planning out conversations/interactions can make dialogue much more organic when i write it on the spot and can lead to new discoveries about the characters.

as for payoff, i tend to go for the general rule of chekhov's gun: if there's a gun in the first act, it has to go off in the third act. basically, i try not to introduce any narrative threads if i don't intend to resolve them in some way later on in the fic. for example in slippery slopes, i introduced my version of alejandro's family issues with him alluding to his oldest brother carlos distancing himself from his family, and in the last chapter i have carlos showing up for alejandro and helping him get away from his family as well. pretty much as soon as i started writing alejandro thinking about carlos, i knew carlos would be there for him in the end.

planning things out can be super helpful and i certainly couldn't start writing a long fic without having any kind of plan, but ive found that having suuuper detailed outlines and knowing every little thing that's going to happen in advance is personally stifling for me as a writer and kills my motivation. so im learning to strike a healthy balance.

thank you so much for this ask! i love talking about writing!

#literally anyone can feel free to send me writing questions whenever you want!! #i love talking about writing!! #ask #anon #slippery slopes #amicus curiae #writing advice

[oonajaeadira]

N. 15 "What did you learn from writing this fic?" for Good. Things. Take. Time.

I'm curious about it and how you skirted around many difficult themes without letting them drag down the narrative!

Hello, friend!!! I just answered this question for this fic for QueenBlue, but I like your specific spin on it.

I learned that if you stay true to the character, it makes the character delicious.

The first sessions were plainly just answering the asks that came in, just trying to give folks a little fantasy of someone who can take their stress and hurt away. But then asks wanted the fantasy to go a little further, wanted Pats to just give way to lust and love....

But he wasn't that. He wouldn't be in the position he was in if he was. The man is about control and sustaining. He has to be to do what he does. And so there were a lot of tempting questions that came in that wanted to break him--not purposefully! --But, they wanted Pres to drive him wild.

Here's where I admit that my brain is a brat. It sometimes looks at an ask and goes, "Oh, I see what you're asking for. But I'm not gonna give it to you...because I have something you're gonna like a whole lot better. Watch." It allows me to explain why he's not going to do that slutty thing or why he needs to retreat. Really, if I get an ask and feel, "Pats wouldn't do that" I'm gonna say so, but I'll explain why. And sometimes I find that answer to be sexier. Because he cares a lot. Because he has feelings he can't admit to. Because he doesn't want to lose her.... And it's so much more fun to give him some barriers to jump. Which, in his case, kind of equals morals. Which then kind of equals noble personality.

Which in turn makes him even more desirable.

Anyway, it's been so so delightful to watch the asks evolve from "how would he treat this ailment / fulfill this physical fantasy" to asking questions about him, what his thoughts are on matters, how he would react to emotional needs and requests. And about his heart and how he would react to theirs.

That's when the Truth or Dare sessions started. It allowed them to get a little more deep into each other's pasts and feelings.

Once the dynamic started shifting, I wasn't sure how I was going to answer some of the waiting asks. If Pres had all the issues being asked about, she'd be in some serious physical and mental misalignment. That's why I went with the Kiss and Tell sessions. That way I could still answer massage room questions without it being Pres.

But that required her to ask for that trust. And that, in turn, allows them to go to new relationship places, which in turn changes the tone of the asks I get. We're all influencing each other and don't even know it.

So I've also learned that sometimes challenging asks can cause you to answer more than just the question at hand. And sometimes that takes you to some interesting places.

.

ask writers about their fic

#ask games

[myersesque]

UM UM UM fav npmd song?

OH GOD HARDEST QUESTION YOU COULD'VE ASKED. i am notoriously indecisive and there is not a single skip in this whole tracklist BUT ALAS. I WILL TRY

ummm um um uh. i'm gonna have mercy on myself and make it a tie. i'm allowing myself a tie

nerdy prudes must die - i love a good villain song. the reveal of max's new costume/makeup (STUNNING btw, especially considering how stressful it must be do to makeup whilst a show is actively going on - doing a costume change between acts is nerve-wracking enough), will branner's endless charisma and stage presence (literally devastated he's new to starkid bc i need more of him NOW), and his and jon matteson's fucking gorgeous vocals... both the chorus and the "who will pray for me?" section are CONSTANTLY looping in my head. absolutely 500% deserving of title track status.

as cool as i think i am + reprise / if i loved you - i'm counting all 3 of these as one bc i honestly can't decide between them, and i love them all for the same reasons. acaitia is such a well-done establishing song for peter's worldview - both his perception of himself (and how that shifts and skews more positive as he psychs himself up) and his perception of steph (the "smarter than she thinks she is" line always gets me - he thinks so highly of her and is so respectful of her even this early on when they're still bickering, and it sets the foundations for how strong their relationship ends up becoming). it's also just really nice to have a nerd character as a protagonist who has some confidence and, whilst steph liking him certainly helps with that, his sense of self-worth isn't inherently tied to her, it's inherently tied to himself and how he lets himself exist (he's as cool as he thinks he is - if he allows himself to think he's cool, then he's cool - which also has an interesting sort of parallel to max's sue sylvester "you are what i say you are" philosophy). then of course the reprise is absolutely devastating (i have absolutely no shame in saying i was openly sobbing) and serves as such a good example of how things have changed throughout the story, especially in terms of his sense of identity and relationship with steph. then ofc if i loved you is just... SUCH a fun song about their dynamic, and how they both clearly adore each other but aren't willing to admit that until forced. "not saying what we mean, except we literally are, just backwards" is one of my fav kinds of song (also - it reminds me a bit of i could do without you from calamity jane, if that's anything).

the summoning - villain song, horrifically catchy, and the lords in black having their moment. the distorted background vocals, the childish way the lords present themselves contrasted with the heaviness of their song and the darkness of their lyrics ("stephanie has got a gun, tra-la-la-la, how fun!" - they're DELIGHTING in their suffering)... it's just really fuckin good. i also don't super mind the dialogue interrupting it since it's part of the pacing, and the lords breaking into song in the middle of a serious discussion feels very on brand for them

honourary mentions include literal monster (for similar reasons to as cool as i think i am, but for max's character instead - also, again, villain song) and hatchet town (i ADORE hatchetfield's ensemble-heavy songs, and i think this one sorta encapsulates the whole vibe of the series). i also have soft spots for dirty girl and go go nighthawks, but that's in more of a "this is REALLY fun" way than a "i have deep opinions abt these songs" way. obviously just for once is also devastating and a beautiful song that serves as a great demonstration of lauren lopez's skills but i'm trying not to say "every single song, actually"

...i realise i just listed 90% of the tracklist but i justified most of it??? so hopefully u at least got SOMETHING from this answer idk

#you: what's your favourite (singular) #me: here's an essay on why i adore almost every song in this show bon appetit #ask #horror tag #npmd spoilers

[valacirya]

I love your vanyar and arafinwean headcanons! Do you have any thoughts on how their vanyar heritage is part of the identity of indis’ children?

Thank you, I love this question!! I will warn you beforehand, my answer is going to be long. Here are my other posts about the Vanyar, if anyone is interested. 

Okay, to start with I'm gonna give a little background on Noldor-Vanyar relations: they were canonically close from the beginning of the Great Journey and built Tirion together. However, they do drift apart and it seems that the Noldor didn't understand or agree with the mass exodus to Taniquetil -> "They forsook the city of Tirion upon Túna and became sundered from the Noldor... the Noldor dwelt there alone, and their converse and friendship thereafter was rather with the Teleri.” Now this is purely my hc, but I do think that a desire to be closer to the Valar was not the only reason for Ingwe and co to leave. The Vanyar quite possibly got fed up with the Noldor (just like Indis, Findis, and Finarfin later on). I don't have much evidence for this hc, except that they preferred to be known as the Minyar, and 'Vanyar' i.e. 'the beautiful' is what the Noldor insisted on calling them (they do the same with the Teleri and Laiquendi which bothers me so much). This sounds like there was a weird simultaneous pedestalizing and condescension going on, which reflected in the social hierarchy of Tirion, which made Ingwe go 'fuck this shit I'm out' and run off to Taniquetil to have threesomes with Manwe and Varda.

So anyway, there's an unspecified number of years during which the Noldor and Teleri are besties, and the Vanyar and Valar are besties, but the Vanyar don't really talk to the Noldor or Teleri. Finwe and Indis completely change that. Their marriage is not only a symbol of healing and hope but also a rekindling of an old friendship between two peoples and a merging of two very different cultures. I think this is why -> "The Vanyar and Noldor for the most part rejoice.”

On to the children of Indis!

It's important to remember that the Nolofinweans and Arafinweans' Vanyarin (and Telerin) heritage is what distinguishes them from the line of Feanor. They identify as Noldor, but their Vanyarin blood is prominent, not just physically, but also in their foresight, how favored they are by the Valar, and their ability to do serious damage to Ainur. There's a certain kind of confidence, almost arrogance, that the Indisions have. It comes from knowing that they are the children of prophecy, that Finwe defied the laws of nature for them, that they are favored by the Noldor, Vanyar, Teleri, and Valar. That confidence is certainly a Noldorin trait, but it also comes from the Vanyar, who were regarded as the principal kindred of the Eldar, who were known as the Friends of the Gods, the Blessed, the victors of the War of Wrath -> "And the mountains rang beneath their feet."

Findis and Finarfin are pretty uncomplicated in that they both canonically prefer the Vanyar over the Noldor. Finarfin especially is completely Vanyarin in personality and looks. He passes some of that down to Finrod and particularly Galadriel -> "Yet deeper still there dwelt in her the noble and generous spirit of the Vanyar." This is firmly my own opinion, but Third Age Galadriel seems to be more Vanyarin than Noldorin in outlook. Findis and Finarfin seem to have a similar experience of feeling like they don’t belong in Tirion, which might be a callback to the Vanyar leaving. Also -> “As well as he could he kept aloof from the strife of his brothers and sought peace with the Teleri.” -> “Above all her heart now yearns for the halls of Ingwe and the peace of the Vanyar, far from the strife of the Noldor.”  

Side note: it’s canon that Indis’s use of ‘s’ is an acceptance of the Noldor rather than a rejection of the Vanyar. It’s very tied up with her position as queen/consort and her dynamic with Finwe. She obviously doesn’t compel her children to follow the shift, so I don’t agree that she was obsessed with fitting in with the Noldor and put that pressure on her kids, particularly Finarfin. She didn’t need to fit in, not when her husband’s people welcomed her for the most part.

Fingolfin is more complex; unlike his older sister and younger brother, he identifies entirely as a Noldo, Finwe’s son. But he’s also much closer to Indis and is favored by Manwe and Ulmo, and feared by Melkor (who had tried and failed to influence the Vanyar). I think he proudly owns his Vanyarin heritage and also uses it for his political benefit. Lalwen aligns with him but stays out of politics when she’s younger; I hc that her preferred activities are very Vanyarin i.e. dancing, sports, partying, and hanging out with Ainur.     

I hc that Fingolfin has his moments where he's petty enough to emphasize that he's royalty on both his father and mother's sides, unlike Feanor. I also hc that Ingwe became a pseudo father figure for Fingolfin after Finwe left. It mirrors Olwe and Finarfin's relationship and shows just how much Finwe failed as a father with his younger sons (oof, that whole “holding himself unkinged” shit still makes me furious). Plus, the Indisions’ only mentioned cousins are Ingwe’s kids, so I think they would have been close, particularly Fingolfin, Finarfin and Ingwion in a family overrun by sisters lol. 

I do think Feanor would have made derogatory comments about their heritage, because he canonically makes fun of the Vanyarin accent, plus his comments about the Edain and Teleri are eugh. Some of his sons would too (Caranthir comes to mind, and probably the others later on). But this just makes the Indisions prouder of their mixed identity. Maybe there was some insecurity in their youth due to vitriol from the more conservative Noldor, but I don’t think it had any lasting impact. All of Indis’s grand and great-grandchildren have some affinity for the Vanyar. Also, the Noldor on the whole have absolutely no problem with a half-Vanya king, either in Valinor or Beleriand. If anything, the vast majority of them prefer Fingolfin and Finarfin over Feanor.

So, my conclusion to this long and convoluted post is that the descendants of Indis, while primarily identifying as Noldor, are all proud of and display traits from their Vanyarin heritage, which in fact seems to elevate them above the Feanorians. I think Tolkien was making a point by having all the most powerful, wise, and noble elves be of mixed heritage, whether that's Luthien, Galadriel, Earendil, or Elrond.

#thank you for the ask i've always wanted to talk about this #i have a tendency to ramble so i hope i answered your question #if y'all have headcanons/thoughts too share them with me! #vanyar #indis #fingolfin #finarfin

[from-the-clouds]

also, i couldn’t fit this in the last ask but i did want to request a headcanon about like the early flirty days of yn & kendall? that chapter where he takes her home bc she’s drunk was so soft and cute :(

yesss of course!

bonus gif bc this became a fucking novel (i apologize in advance)

(note: these hcs are based on my fic thinking of a place, which you can read here. but context is that you start at waystar to look after ken and keep him out of the headlines during the height of his drug abuse/party phase, but once he sobers up, you move into a more serious role as his legal counsel/advisor.)

cw: mentions of drug abuse/addiction

i think at first when you are hired you're kind of scared of kendall, because all you know about him is that he's this out of control party animal, and all the headlines you've seen label him as a disrespectful womanizer. so you've sort of got walls up, and you're rather short with him.

and he doesn't like you either, he feels like you're a glorified babysitter and finds it humiliating that his father would hire someone to keep tabs on him like that. so it's sort of a self-fulfilling prophecy that he acts exactly how you were expecting him to, which keeps you both at odds.

you wanna quit so bad, but you're making bank to basically just make sure he stays out of trouble.

eventually he comes around, particularly after one night when you pick him up from a club he's at with stewy -- he's so fucked up you expect him to be horrible to you, but instead he ends up crying in your arms, telling you how he misses his family and how he's been a fuckup his whole life and knows he'll never change. you don't really know what to do besides rub his back and let his tears stain your sweatshirt, desperately seeking some sort of comfort or affection.

the dynamic between you shifts pretty quickly after that, particularly because you went from feeling like he was a spoiled brat to a very deeply sad and broken person, and you can't help but feel some sympathy for him, so you start to be a little gentler. and even though you're pretty sure that he doesn't remember anything from that night, he seems to respond well to your shift in energy.

one night, when you're keeping tabs on him at an event, he starts talking to you about some new investment he's excited about. you're not sure what compels you to do it, but you offer him a bit of legal advice to make sure he gets the better end of the deal. he's taken aback at first, because he didn't knew you had a law degree and business chops, and after that he starts coming to you more often with questions.

you become the first person he goes to whenever he's stuck on an issue or a problem because: "you're really fucking good with this stuff, you know that?"

i think if anything, once kendall sobers up and there's no use for you anymore, logan wants to fire you, but it's kendall who pitches to his dad to keep you around. after that, you're working directly under kendall, actually getting to be involved in new projects and making deals, putting your education and experience to good use.

i also feel like, because you're at work, he's not gonna be flirty in a super open way at first. it would start as more under the table stuff. like he's in your office for a meeting, and your desk chair is really loud and squeaky. he comments on it and you brush it off, you've asked for a new one a thousand times but no one listened. the next day you come into your office and there's a brand new chair. or like, you mention in passing that the coffee served in the office is kind of gross so you usually bring yours from home, until you notice that they've stocked the employee lounge with your favorite brand and gotten new coffee machine. and kendall would never like...take credit for doing any of it. he'd just do it because, unconsciously or consciously, he wants to make sure you're happy and content.

i also think like, once he feels his marriage with rava is really over, and starts to mentally move on, that's when he becomes a bit more bold with you. he'll tell you how nice you look or let his touch linger a bit longer than it should.

i just love the idea too of like, these quiet little domestic things you're doing for each other like, helping him put on cufflinks or straightening his tie, or hyping him up before a big presentation. or he asks you what you think of a certain shirt or suit he wants to wear somewhere but can't decide what to choose.

i could see you like, having a secret handshake or something stupid you do with him before he has to give a speech. even though you know it's dumb you do it anyways because you can't stand to see him so stressed out and you just want to make him laugh and loosen up.

you find yourself staying at the office really late some nights -- maybe you both had to work on something but even after you finished you both stick around sitting on the couch in his office, a little sleep deprived and loopy but talking and laughing and having a good time getting to know each other

at events you always seem to catch him checking you out, which normally would disgust you from anyone else. but he just gives you this sheepish smile and looks away, and you can't help but feel a little warm under his gaze.

protective! ken would definitely be a thing if he saw a sleazy businessman getting a little too handsy, like interrupting the conversation to be like "dude, she's not fucking interested" and he like, pulls you under his arm like "come on, honey" and walks you both away. and you feel so warm and safe with him looking after you. obviously, he knows you can handle yourself, but he just can't help himself because he hates seeing you uncomfortable.

maybe one day you aren't feeling well but go into work anyways, and you're sniffling and shivering and he sends you home. then later that night you get a little care package with soup and medicine. and it doesn't have a name on it but you're pretty sure kendall sent someone to drop it off.

i also think you would like, provide him with some much needed praise without even realizing it. like, he's so used to only hearing about what a fuck up he is, and his dad is always yelling at him when things don't go his way. but ken never gets positive feedback from anyone when things do work out, so you simply praising him and being genuinely excited for him when he has any type of 'win' means so much to him, even if you don't think twice about it. like he just clings to the validation he gets from you.

overall, i think he sees you as one of the few people who really care about him and want him to do well, so because of that he's always going to have a soft spot for you even if you bicker with each other and he doesn't always know how to express how he feels

#anon i'm sure you're like uhhhhhhhhhh #i didn't ask all that!!!! #but i started and i couldnt stop SO #apologies apologies #writing #asks #kendall roy headcanon #kendall roy x reader #q #succession #kendall roy #kendall roy headcanons #i should probably do DO MY FUCKING JOB NOW #thinking of a place #thinking of a place headcanons

[sugako]

day off

kageyama x f!reader sum: you try to dom kageyama one day after work, but it doesn’t go as planned cw: 18+ minors do not interact i am begging you DO NOT, nsfw, smut, kinda pwp, some fluff, some (failed) femdom, D/s dynamics, some mocking/degradation, daddy kink, ‘sweetheart’ nickname used, slight choking (?hand around throat but no real *choking*), pussy slaps, nipple play, size kink, creampie, a sprinkle of aftercare wc: 2.65k  a/n: wheww i uhhh, idk this is long but i just couldn’t get this idea out of my head anyway pls enjoy

The train couldn’t arrive at your stop any sooner. Today was one of the rare days that Kageyama had off and would be waiting for you at home. He still went out for his obnoxiously early morning run, but you got to see him a bit before heading off to your job across the city. Other than just being excited to get home to him, you had some other plans in mind. 

When you burst through the door, slightly out of breath, tore off your shoes, and ran straight to him, he was a little more than confused. Before he could stand, you had swung your legs over his lap and pressed a long kiss against him. For a moment he tensed, but then settled his hands on your hips and held you tightly against him. 

You pulled back with a small pant and eased into him, pressing your already aching center against his lap. He wordlessly cocked an eyebrow. 

“Just missed you.” You smiled. “Wish I could’ve taken the day off with you.” You pressed harder against him and kissed a trail around his neck. 

“Mhmm,” he swallowed hard, half-helping your hips grind against him. His cock quickly rose and hardened under you, squeezing against the taught fabric of your pants between your thighs. 

“Did you miss me, baby? Feels like it,” you taunt, not giving him a chance to answer. Letting yourself relax, you sit back hard in his lap until he groans from the pressure. His fingers dig into your hips at the motion and comment. 

After watching him struggle to hold back a moan for a moment, you stand back up, fisting up the front of his t-shirt. You ghost your nose over his as if you would kiss him, never quite touching. The want that clouds his eyes is palpable. 

“Beg for me.” You whisper, hot breath fanning across his cheeks. For a second, his mouth gapes open like he’s going to answer, eyebrows sadly knitting together. Then it all breaks. 

“Beg?” His expression drops into a serious smirk. Now he just looks mildly amused and perplexed. “Excuse you?” He shakes his head and rises up to his full height. You can’t help but shrink a little bit as he stares down at you, desperately trying to keep up even a loosely dominant aura. 

“I-I… uh-”

“I-I-I,” he mocks, crouching just enough to wrap his arms around your knees and lift you over his shoulder, “...spit it out.” 

You weakly strike his back as he makes his way to the bedroom. There was no going back now,  you didn’t have any say. 

“Tobio, put me down!” You can barely squirm, stomach uncomfortable from being squished against his muscled shoulder. “I just wanted to be in charge.” You whine just as he heaves you onto the bed. 

The frame squeaks when you’re thrown against it, mattress molding to your body. He straddled your thighs and quickly ripped away every piece of clothing you had until you were bare under him. When you made a small effort to cover your chest, he snorted and ripped your wrists away. 

“What did you expect? You could just order me around, make me call you mommy or something and I would just be your good, little boy.” He wrapped his fingers around the top of your neck so you had to look at him. 

“I’ve never even called you daddy, why would you call me that?” You sigh in defeat, missing the actual point of his comment. 

He wants to call you on that fact, wants to taunt you more, but not with such a great opportunity before himself. “You could.” He says simply. 

“Could what?” You ask, genuinely oblivious. 

“Call me daddy. It’s not a question.” 

“Uh...ah, okay.” You’re not opposed, and it’s not like you haven’t thought of it before, it’s just so new and he’s looming over you and it’s all very overwhelming. 

“Okay…?” He draws out until you realize your mistake. 

“Okay, daddy.” The softness in your tone makes him go pink, but he maintains that intense look in his eyes. He sits back, taking his hand off your throat so he can strip himself. 

The rise and fall of your bare chest hastens when he first lifts his shirt away. He’s been in shape since you met him but recently increased training had really filled him out. Just the sight of his defined shoulders and the sharp slope of his waist were enough to excite you. He knew it too. 

For a moment, he got off of you just to peel his shorts and boxers off. His heavy cock struggling to lift to his stomach. He admired your expression as the pretty image of his fat tip leaking pre-cum was burned into your mind. 

“Heh,” he let out a low, single scoff, unable to wipe the smirk from his face while he straddled your legs again. On instinct, you planted your feet on the bed and spread your knees without a word. “What are you doing? I haven’t told you what I want, sweetheart.” 

“Sorry, daddy.” You whimpered, moving to close your legs. He stopped you with a hand firmly planted over your left knee, pushing them open again. The bed dipped around you as he shifted up to sit beside you with his back against the headboard. He dragged you partially into his lap, making sure his thigh was securely between yours. 

“Might as well keep them open. I mean, you were thinking about me all day, which is very sweet.” He hummed. “But, you were also pretty naughty, trying to be in charge and telling me what to do.” 

Obediently, you kept your quivering legs parted, craning your head back to look behind at him. His hand on your knee crept up the inside of your thigh and pushed your leg as spread as it could go. You relaxed your neck to watched his hand, focused only on the way his soft fingertips felt against your sensitive skin. 

“Because of all that, you need to be punished.” His voice, barely above a whisper, moaned into your ear while he palmed over your soaked cunt. Using his fingers he spread your folds wide open. The cool air against your heat made you shiver against him and he wrapped his forearm just above your chest to keep you in place.

“N-no, daddy, please,” you clawed at his arm, needing something to grip while he roughly pressed his palm against your swollen clit. Little whines and cries would only make him punish you more, you knew, but it didn’t stop you. “What are you gonna do?” You sniffle out.

“Not enough, probably.” He grumbled. It’s fun watching you shake and whimper, nervous for what’s to come, but he can’t let you writhe over nothing all evening as enticing at that is. 

As soon as his hand lifts just a little, you know what’s to come and you brace for it. With eyes shut tight, you keep clinging to his muscled forearm, but then… nothing happens. Slowly, you peek an eye open and start to relax. “Daddy, wha-!” The second half of whatever you were going to say turns into a moaned scream when his palm sharply lands against your clit. Your pussy throbbed and clenched, body confused by the pain and arousal. 

“You’re too easy.” He moves his arm that’s wrapped around you down to cup one of your breasts. Your nipple perks up in seconds as he gently rolls it between his fingers and you slowly relax again even though you know it’s a trap. Another sting jolts you into tension and his gentle fingers forcefully pinch around your nipple. 

A small, strangled moan echoes out of your throat. His palm remains pressed against you this time, and he softly kneads it along your aching clit. You can feel the tension between your legs growing tighter and tighter until he pulls away. Unable to stop yourself, you arch against him while he massages your flexed thigh. 

“One more, sweetheart, and try not cum. I know how much you like this, you slut.” 

Your brain processed his words slowly, and when you finally understand, his hand is coming down on you again. Thighs clench together, barely held open by his leg that he has you seated on. It takes all your focus and measured breathing to hold back from cumming. 

“Good girl,” he muses, sounding a little surprised. With his soaked hand, he grabs your chin and forces you to look back at him while he leans up to press a tight kiss against your panting mouth.

“P-please, daddy.” You disentangle your hand from around his arm that’s still clutched to you and palm around for his cock without looking. 

“If you want my cock, you gotta say so, sweetheart.” He kisses you again, just a little sweeter this time. 

Nodding hastily, you perk up. “Yes, yes, want your cock, please daddy. Want you inside of me. Want you to fuck me, daddy, please.” The mess of quick words comes spilling out of your mouth like a bursting pipe. 

With a small grunt, he flips you so you’re straddling his hips, cock brushing against your soaking mess. “Since you were so ready to take what was yours earlier, go ahead.” He smirked and crossed his arms behind his head. Pouting, you sat down against his cock, pressing it between himself and your cunt. 

“Tob-...daddy, you know I need help.” Slowly, you dragged your nails down his front with a featherlight touch. Even though he was staying cool, the way his skin twitched under your touch betrayed his demeanor. Still, it wasn’t enough to sway him. 

“Then I guess you don’t get my cock, sweetheart.” He sighed. 

Grimacing with the same silly pout still on your face you slowly ground against him, slick making a mess all over your laps. “But I really want you…” you whined. He simply raised an eyebrow, waiting expectantly. Realizing nothing would change his mind, and that this was just another part of your punishment you let out a long sigh and a small “...okay.” 

You kneeled as high as you could, taking his length into your hand and carefully lining him up. Kageyama watched your hand, fingers barely able to wrap around him. He had to hold back the sharp laugh in the back of his throat when you had to shift your legs so his tip could fit, standing between your warm folds. If he wasn’t so hell-bent on making you do this, he knew he would be balls deep in your right now. 

Whining and moaning above over him, you slowly lowered yourself over the fat head of his cock. The stretch was more than enough to make you clench and cream around him. Your knees buckled at the feeling and you slipped down a little more than you would have liked. Almost immediately, you made a move to slide back out, the girth filling you up a bit too much. 

His hands came out from behind his head and held you there. He didn’t move you a centimeter up or down, simply keeping you in place. “Don’t be a big baby,” he growled.

“Jus...just so big, daddy. S’hard to do.” You slur out, slinking down as much more as you can take. This is the worst part, you know, right before his base the thickest part of his length always makes you feel as though you’re being split in two. 

“Hmm, you seemed so sure earlier. So cute, wanted me to beg for you. Besides, wouldn’t make you do it if I thought you couldn’t.”

That tiny speckle of praise was enough to push you through as you bottomed out. Your knees clamped down around his hip bones, shaking while you panted. Already, your body wanted so much to give you, to just lie down against him and let him fuck up into you, but that wasn’t an option now. With sloppy, short thrusts you lifted yourself up and down on his cock. You kept your hands pressed against his abdomen to steady yourself, leaning forward just enough to be able to take more of him in and out. 

“That’s it…” he sighed, “Good job, baby. Such a good girl for daddy.” His hands were still wrapped firmly around your hips, just barely guiding you now as you fucked yourself quicker against him. 

Thighs burning, you took a short break, lazily grinding your hips with him fully sheathed inside of you. Trying to hide your small pants, you leaned down the rest of the way and pressed your lips against his. He sighed into your embrace, pulling you closer. 

The way your taught nipples and soft chest squished against his along with everything else - your tight cunt drooling around him, the shake of your tired legs, your lips against his - disintegrated his resolve to make you suffer even a little. His mind was devoid of everything except the thought of you. 

Slowly, his hands moved up from your hips to wrap around the back of your head and pulled your face against the crook of his neck. You gave out a contented sigh, nuzzling your nose against his skin, still lazily grinding. His cock had molded so comfortably within you now it felt as though he were a part of you. For a long moment, you relished in your warm relief until you felt his knees move under you. 

Before his legs were propped up all the way, you snapped out of your stupor, unable to move away from Kageyama with how tight his grip around your head and mid-section were. With his feet firmly planted on the mattress, he began thrusting up. 

“Daddy!” You cried into his ear, the slow comfort you had gotten so easily used to replaced by pounding pleasure. Your legs wrapped under his to keep you better in place. With how much cream your pretty pussy had leaked, it was nearly impossible for him to stay in place.

“Go ahead, touch yourself, want you to cum around my cock.” His muffled and strained groan came out between the loud slaps of his thighs hitting against your ass. Whimpering quietly, you wriggled a hand between your close bodies between your legs. Fingers easily found your swollen, spread clit, accidentally grazing against where he was impaling you. 

The earlier pressure was back in moments and you were squirming against him with your hips twitching out of pace. That thinning string of tension broke with another sloppy pass of your fingertips and you came undone around him. Your already tightly gushing cunt fluttered and clamped around him while your hips and body spasmed against him, only held a little still by his grip. 

He could feel himself close behind. The way you swallowed him whole, sucking him in, and those sweet, sweet walls that kept him right in place sent him over the edge. His hips stuttered up into you, shooting his cum high up into your little cunt, but he kept going until he was dry. You shivered, the aftershock of your high making you clench around his twitching cock while he emptied himself inside of you. 

His legs collapsed and you stayed around him, just barely rutting against him until he pulled your face back to look at you. Relaxed, he gave you a small, but genuine smile, lightly rubbing your cheek. 

“You okay? How was that?” He asked in earnest. You lightly pecked his forehead and settled back down against his chest. 

“Really good,” you sighed with a tiny chuckle, “maybe I should try to boss you around again. Or call you ‘daddy’. Can we just lay like this for a little bit and then take a shower? That’s what I want.” 

He hummed, soothing the muscles in your back with his hands. “Sounds good, sweetheart.” 

#kageyama smut #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio x reader #tobio kageyama x reader #tobio kageyama smut #kageyama tobio smut #tobio x reader #tobio smut #kageyama x you #hq imagines #hq smut

[inb4belphienaps]

pump it (derogatory) - continued

<pt. 1>

warnings: herein lies the smut :) word count: 2238

you slowly lower yourself onto your knees, feeling your cheeks flush and your jaw clench. he doesn't take his eyes off of you, the amusement dancing on his features makes your stomach twist and turn.

"go on", he repeats, putting out his cigarette onto the ashtray beside him. it's as if his attention is solely focused on you now.

your hands, resting on your thighs, ball into fists as you maintain his gaze. this man was sick! if only you hadn't stopped and hesitated out there on the road. if only you hadn't followed him inside and taken the bait. he snickers, standing at full height as he strides over to you.

"need some help?"

 he hadn't been particularly tall when you'd first met him. was it the new angle?

"if this is some sick prank you're pulling, i'd like you to stop", you spit, looking up at him with what you hoped was complete indignation in your eyes.

belphie tilts his head, the corner of his lips forever quirked upwards as he places a hand atop your head.

"what makes you think i'm not being serious?"

that hand runs through your hair, settling comfortably at the base of your skull and he tugs. there's no pain. it's merely a demonstration. you're more than looking up at him, quite literally in his grip and he bares his teeth at you, grinning and exposing incisors sharp as knives.

"besides", he mutters (though it's hard to miss his words with his blunt nails digging into your scalp), "you seem like the type of person to pay their dues properly."

he emphasizes that last part and you drink in the sight of his collar. the top two buttons have been left undone and the material creases as it stretches over his chest. he seems to appreciate your close assessment and with that, he's shoving your face down towards the familiar, pale tiles.

you try to dig your nails into the smooth surface to no avail, protesting as he brings you down closer and closer-

"wait- i can- can't we- can't we work something out?!"

his breath tickles your ear and you think he's probably also knelt down to do so.

"what? would you rather use your tongue elsewhere?"

you blink rapidly, trying not to shiver at his proximity or his low drawl. you can see your shadow reflected in the tiles inches away from your nose and you take a deep breath as the next question leaves you.

"what did you have in mind...?"

he clicks his tongue and tugs you by your hair to have you look at him once more. he'd been squatting down.

"like i said, clever."

as he stands up, his grip on you remains. you inwardly release a sigh of relief. bullet successfully dodged.

and then your eyes zero in on the bulge in his pants and you swallow thickly. of course, of course it was going to be that in the end. only, this didn't seem so bad...? you'd be lying if you said it hadn't turned you on in the slightest to be made to lick the floor. especially when that'd come in the form of an aegean-blue-haired man with veins on his forearms that could make you cry.

perhaps you stare a moment too long.

"listen, if this makes you uncomfortable, we can stop."

"oh", you reply.

his suggestion comes out as more of an afterthought and you're taken aback by his unanticipated generosity (a common theme of tonight). the reasonable and logical part of your brain says yes, yes let's do just that. let's stop and leave this place. but the more irrational, impulsive side of you wonders how he'd taste...

belphie must've mistaken your tone because he removes his hand and you're left feeling distinctly unsatisfied.

you grab it, placing a chaste kiss inside his calloused palm and he twitches. it's your turn to smile at him.

"that's funny", you say, mind already made up.

he doesn't pull away from you. instead, he squeezes your hand and you pull him closer by his belt. a maneuver that rewards you with another twitch and a soft gasp.

"you don't seem like the type to second-guess yourself."

slowly, you undo the leather and he watches with intent. if he'd felt shocked, he doesn't show it.

"somehow, i don't want you to hate me. is that weird?"

his confession makes you pause, only briefly, and then you're palming him through the cotton. he shuts his eyes. you note how long his eyelashes appear, their shadows dotting his cheeks.

"i don't really want you to hate me either."

the two of you share a look. one that precedes an exchange of understanding. you realize that he isn't capable of frightening you as you pull the waistband of his boxers down, freeing his erection.

"so how about i make up for my clumsiness like this? is that okay?", you ask, mouth mere centimeters away from the head of his dick.

"definitely okay", he murmurs.

and you take him into your mouth like someone starved. it's hot and hard and the veins on its underside have you moaning around his length. you guide his hand back to your hair and he fists it.

"fuck", he whispers.

fuck, you think.

the change in your attitude spurs him on to bury himself to the hilt inside your mouth and you try to regulate your breathing, attempting to relax your throat.

"god, you feel good..."

you hum appreciatively at his praise and he bucks his hips up, causing you to grip his thighs as a means of holding him in place. and jesus was he built. you stroke the hard muscles trembling underneath your hands and he groans - a delicious sound.

"hah, mm, can i fuck your face like this?"

he's doing his best not to move, and you carefully slide him back out of your mouth, much to his disappointment. you swirl your tongue around him and lick a strip down the side, only to suckle on a spot near the base of his dick and he shivers.

"what's the magic word?"

the blush on his cheeks matches the blush on the ends of his ears and you grin up at him. he shrinks slightly under your gaze, becoming increasingly aware of the power dynamic at work.

"p-please..?"

"good boy", you coo nonchalantly, petting his thigh.

his dick twitches this time and you giggle, batting your eyelids at him.

"ah...into that sort of thing, are you?"

he scoffs, his façade ruined as you move your hand along his cock and squeeze. a whimper leaves him and you act on the urge to stroke him, eyeing the expression of pleasure on his face. his hips start to move on their own accord.

"please just- just keep going."

"hm? like this?"

"no- with your mouth", he says hurriedly, adding a "please" that only serves to boost your ego. this was more to your liking.

"alright belphie, i'll give you what you want since you asked so nicely."

he's about to snap back but you glide your tongue against his slit, leaving whatever insult he was about to spew to die in his throat as you graze your teeth against the sensitive skin of his dick while taking him back in.

"oh, jesus...fuck."

like a distant memory, you realize that he tastes distinctly sweet. an ode to his bodywash you suppose.

"mmmh", you moan around him and he jerks his hips.

you caress his thigh as your other hand snakes its way up to his ass, and you squeeze. he grunts, glancing down at you with a type of dizzy look in his eyes that sets your own lust ablaze. you swallow around him once and he tries to keep still.

only, you encourage him, pushing him further into your throat by the hand on his ass and he clutches at your hair with desperation.

"wait, are you- are you sure?"

you nod, ignoring the drool dribbling down your chin and he hisses as you swallow around him again.

"alright, okay", he pants, "i'm not gonna hold back."

and that's as much warning as you get before he's rocking into your mouth, head thrown back in ecstasy as he chases his own high.

it's surreal, how good it feels. how each time the tip of his cock brushes against the roof of your mouth and the back of your throat, you descend further into a state of rapture. so maybe you had an oral fixation, so what?

you close your eyes and focus all your attention on relaxing your throat, on accommodating his girth and not choking on your own saliva.

he must like the sounds he hears coming from you because belphie's groans get louder with each thrust. there's a familiar haziness to the way you feel and a warmth in your gut that encourages you to slacken your jaw that little bit more.

"fuck, fuck, i'm gonna cum too qu-quickly, your mouth feels too fucking good."

you moan, getting off on how dazed he looks and the airy lilt to his voice. you knead his ass cheek, feeling it flex with each thrust and he starts to get sloppy, not bothering to stifle the small moans that leave him or the curses he manages to stutter out.

"i'm gonna cum, i'm gonna cum", he whines.

in that split-second you'd decided to blow him, you'd also decided that you'd let him cum in your mouth. and so, you make no move to let him retreat, using both your hands and cupping both his ass cheeks to keep him in your throat as he unravels.

"ah- mm!"

the hot liquid comes in heavy spurts that otherwise would've made you choke had you not been prepared for it.

you continue to swallow, even as he stops cumming and backs away from the over-stimulation. eventually, you give in, coming off his dick with an obscene noise.

at least you aren't the only breathless one. you lick your lips and he groans at the sight of them all pink and puffy and wet.

"fucking hell."

"well", you say, wincing at your own raspy tone, "we don't need more of a mess to clean up, do we?"

he laughs, and you chuckle with him.

belphie's about to help you to your feet when he looks up and sees the color painting the horizon outside. it's almost dawn. shit. he'd forgotten himself. the time, the place, everything.

"hey, listen", he says, looking at you with distress knitted in his brows. "you're going to wake up in fifteen minutes and you'll barely remember anything that's happened."

the sudden shift in his manner gives you whiplash, and you're left utterly frazzled. what? wake up? fifteen minutes?

"you'll think this is an abandoned gas station and leave. but..."

and he contemplates, ponders even, the possibility of tying himself to you.

"but if you call this number, in precisely thirteen days, you might be able to reach me."

was his voice fading? or were you simply drifting farther away?

"thirteen days, remember. remember that for me, will you?"

he looks...sad, and that bothers you. you try to lift your hand except it feels too heavy, too sluggish and your eyes start to shut of their own accord.

"remember for me."

.

.

.

your phone buzzes and you jerk awake, smacking your head on the wheel as you try to locate it. had you fallen asleep? as you track it down, you realize it's your friend calling.

"hello?"

"hey! where are you? we agreed that you were going to meet us here last night. is everything okay? were you asleep?"

you frown, yawning and stretching out the kink in your neck as you rub your eye.

"yeah, um, i got a bit lost and i must've fallen asleep. don't worry though, i'm uhh...", you trail off, glancing around for a sign.

an abandoned shopfront is all you see. the letters of an empty and unserviceable kum-n-go blink back at you, bouncing off the rays of the early morning sun.

"i'm not entirely sure where i am", you begin, catching something out of the corner of your eye. there's a map on the passenger seat beside you. a map that shows you're not far off from the designated stop off. "oh, actually, i'll be there before lunch."

"great, oh my god, please come quick and save me from this madness. the lads have started drinking already."

you laugh, turning the ignition on and driving out of the parking lot.

"i'll be there as soon as i can."

as you hang up and toss your phone to the side, fragments of your dream come back to you in startling definition. coffee, huh? yeah…yeah, that sounds like a good idea.

the highway is pretty much deserted given the hour and you put the pedal to the metal. rolling down the windows, you breathe in the crisp air and rub your neck. it’s still sore and your throat, your throat feels almost…raw.

you open the glove compartment to take out some lozenges and you haphazardly pop one into your mouth. the sweet taste threatens to trigger a memory. as you suck the candy, ignorant of its medicinal tang in lieu of the artificial honey flavoring, you wrack your brain for an explanation. a number comes to mind. thirteen. what on earth could that mean...?

#the total word count is 4515 #and if that isn't anything short of obscene idk what is #goodbye forever #obey me writing #obey me au #obey me smut #om nsft #obey me nsft #obey me belphegor #obey me! belphegor #belphegor x reader #belphegor x gn reader #my writing 🐇

[spneveryseason]

How about a close read of the conversation between Sam and Dean in Fallen Idols when Sam tells Dean that things between aren't working and that they never worked. I felt like at the time when it first aired, I was the only one cheering.

Absolutely! Sorry this took so long to get to but I love this scene a lot

Sam & Taking a Stand

So this particular conversation has always been fascinating to me because it’s a hint to the early seasons Sam we heard a lot about but never got to properly see: that is, the Sam who stands up for himself, who points out the uncomfortable in order to resolve it.

We hear a lot from Dean and John about what Sam was like preseries, about how he fought with his Dad constantly and would challenge him frequently. By the time we actually get to know him, however, he is grieving Jessica’s death and is constantly fearful about his visions, so we don’t get to see this confident side of him really. It comes out in moments like this, where Sam directly points to problems in how they do things and tells them plainly to change it. You can see how this would be supremely irritating to John, but here at least Dean is largely receptive to it.

Of course, these scenes are far and few between, and decrease massively as the show goes on and Sam’s confidence slowly shrinks into itself due to his growing post traumatic stress. You still see hints of this in small moments across the show: Sam’s quick pacifist arc in s11, his pushback against Dean’s treatment of jack, and his plain speaking about his feelings after the Gadreel incident are all examples of this. However, the directness in this particular scene is really telling and gives us a good insight into what he was like prior to the slow decline in his confidence in season 1.

Getting into the actual scene, we start with Sam directly addressing the issue as well as his problem with it:

SAM: So first you drag me into town, and now you're dragging me back out.

Dean attempts to cut off the conversation:

DEAN: You ain't steering this boat. Let's go, chop chop.

He’s reasserting his role as leader here, outright saying that he is in change of what they do and where they go. In the context of season 5, this is clearly a result of his lack in trust in Sam at this point. He also does not want to have this conversation, and I don’t think it would be a stretch to say that John did similar assertions when he didn’t want to speak about something difficult (probably more harshly too).

Sam doesn’t let him off the hook, though:

SAM: You know, this isn't gonna work.

DEAN: What isn't?

Again Dean tries to deflect, play like he doesn’t know what’s going on. Dean does tend to not want to address uncomfortable things directly, and now is no different.

Sam, again, has no problem answering this directly:

SAM: Us. You, me, together, I—I thought it could, but it can't.

That is a huge admission. This throws the entire premise of the show into question, almost. If Sam&Dean don’t work, how can the show work? This also hits at Dean’s fears, as he absolutely does not want to be alone again. Thus, he responds by shifting blame, still going for a more nonchalant tone as to not make the conversation too serious.

DEAN: You're the one that wanted back in, chief.

(Side note: it is funny how this sarcastic form of address is transformed into a serious sign of respect for Sam by the other hunters later in the show. It’s a sign of his growth as a leader in the community)

SAM: And you're the one who called me back in.

They’re doing a back-and-forth of shifting responsibility here and, funnily enough, this is where they leave this part of the argument. Dean capitulating here could mean be conceded to the point, or he has decided not to pursue it further. Instead, he decides to answer Sam’s initial concern about their new dynamic:

DEAN: I still think we got some trust building to do.

SAM: How long am I gonna be on double-secret probation?

The word choice they use here is interesting: Dean calls it “trust building” while Sam calls it “double-secret probation”. Dean’s taking a more professional approach, viewing this as a action-and-consequence situation. Sam uses more hyperbolic language, viewing this as a more personal slight. It’s clearly something he would say when John asserted similar authority. This seems to work on Dean, who also seems to revert to language used in family during childhood:

DEAN: Till I say so.

Sam sees the opening here, that Dean has broken his more standoffish approach, and begins to make his case:

SAM: Look. I know what I did. What I've done. And I am trying to climb out of that hole, I am, but you're not making it any easier.

DEAN: So what am I supposed to do, just let you off the hook?

Sam acknowledges his wrongdoing, puts most of the blame on himself, but still states that Dean has some things to work on himself. I think this acknowledgement is what allows Dean to actually consider his words and respond seriously. Dean also reveals here that his actions are as a punishment and not necessarily because he believes he is inherently right all the time.

Sam notices this, and builds up on both his guilt and what Dean himself needs to work on:

SAM: No. You can think whatever you want. I deserve it, and worse. Hell, you'll never punish me as much as I'm punishing myself, but the point is, if we're gonna be a team, you and I—it has to be a two-way street.

DEAN: So we just go back to the way we were before?

It all does seem to come back to punishment, and Sam is willing to take it. What Dean was referencing indirectly, Sam makes direct: he is getting punished, and he does believe that he deserves it. Dean continues with his pattern of short statements and questions, which he maintins throughout this entire conversation. Even though he is having this very difficult conversation, he still seems to be trying his best to participate as little as he can. This gels with Dean as a personality, as he really does not like talking about things at this point.

Sam goes in for the kill here, and references the larger issues of their past and childhood. It’s getting serious now, and he’s trying to address problems that stem even before we knew them in season 1:

SAM: No, because we were never that way before. Before didn't work. How do you think we got here?

DEAN: What's that supposed to mean?

SAM: Dean, one of the reasons I went off with Ruby...was to get away from you.

DEAN: What?

Dean is disbelieving, almost betrayed. This is hitting his vulnerable spots: he can’t fathom the idea of someone picking anything over family. Sam knows this, knows the impact of his words, and quickly explains in a very direct manner:

SAM: It made me feel strong. Like I wasn't your kid brother.

DEAN: Are you saying this is my fault?

Sam contrasts “strength” and “kid brother” here, all but admitting that his familial position makes him feel weak. Again, addressing some deep cuts of their past. Dean, however, doesn’t see it this way: instead, he focuses on the “your” part, and feels like this is an attack on his treatment of Sam. This is classic Sam&Dean miscommunication, and this is the exact idea they constantly clash on but never really ever resolve.

Regardless, Sam attempts to explain, to try to get any meaningful change to occur in their relationship:

SAM: No, it's my fault. All I'm saying is that, if we're gonna do this, we have to do it different, we can't just fall into the same rut.

This is one example of something Sam attempts to do multiple times throughout the show: to call out messed up elements of the way they operate and the way the power balance works. It will usually work in the short term, but not in the long term.

Dean is listening, though. He has been throughout this whole conversation. You get a sense that John never really did that. So, he puts the call to action back in Sam’s hands, giving up the control he has tried to assert at the start of the conversation:

DEAN: What do you want me to do?

Sam, seeing that he’s being heard, says the one thing that he’s wanted for a long time:

SAM: You're gonna have to let me grow up, for starters.

This is Sam’s thesis statement, almost, for the first five seasons (if not the majority of the show, really). The first five seasons is when he really does try to make this happen, in various ways: all fail, except for his final act, for death. Of course, this statement is echoed later on that season in swan song where Dean verbally does say he has to let Sam grow up and follows through on this request. You can see how Sam’s debate style here would’ve backfired on him massively with John, and how Dean is much more receptive to him, at least at this point.

However, with the rest of the show in mind, this exchange reads a little tragic. The way Sam directly states his problems and tries to solve them, the way Dean listens and engages: these feel almost foreign to later on in the show where neither really does this much anymore. Sam is not allowed to grow up either, not really, in those later seasons.

#open for more close reading requests if u like! #spn #supernatural #sam winchester #dean Winchester #spn meta #spn 5x05 #spn analysis #asks #speaks

[cardentist]

I know this is Beyond late to the party, it’s been years since I first started simmering on it, but I was reminded of it a bit ago and I think it’s gonna chew a hole in my brain if I don’t find a way to do something with it

the broadway version of be more chill is an adaptation of an adaptation, the rework of the script and the music and the differences in performance choice gives it a Very different tone despite largely being the same story on paper. and this isn’t necessarily a bad thing ! I’d say it’s mostly a give and take, with some things working better and some things working worse between versions and your mileage with both mostly being down to taste.

I loved the passion that clearly went into it, I was interested in the new way the dynamics played off of each other, and I was drawn into the new additions to the score and how it explored and expanded upon a different side of jeremy. I was waiting for the new version to grow on me, to give me the same inspiration that the new jersey production gave me (or rather, a different flavor that I could treasure just as much), and it just. never happened.

I’ve sat on this for a Very long time, I want to like the broadway version, I was Happy to see it given another chance. but my problem isn’t with the music or even with it being Different, my problem is that I think they fundamentally changed the protagonist Without changing the story around him, which creates problems with how the story comes across and sits with you.

the new jersey version worked, for me, because jeremy was fundamentally a good person before the squip influenced him, and he never really stopped being that person. he’d hurt people and he made mistakes, but when you see him make up with christine and michael by the end you’re left with the impression that they’re already set on the path to a healthy relationship with each other. they have things to work on, conversations that need to be had, but you can Believe in the happy ending that it wants you to buy into.

and part of this is achieved by leaving things up to the imagination, by keeping jeremy Simple but implying more by presenting him as a real person. jeremy doesn’t Want to be popular he wants to be happy, but he trusts the authority figure that tells him that it knows what’s best for him more than he does. it’s this level of innocence that makes him genuinely likeable despite what he ends up doing.

the broadway version sought to explore jeremy in more depth, to explore the feelings of self hatred and isolation, the themes of depression and anxiety, in more explicit terms, they complicated jeremy heere. this isn’t in itself a bad thing, I really like “loser geek whatever” as a song, but it shifted the balance in what made the ending work. a moment that used to be jeremy asserting to the audience that he’s never Wanted to be important, that he never wanted popularity or fame, but that he’s giving in to the lead of something else because he’s been convinced that it’s what’ll make him happy is now a ballad that asserts that it’s what jeremy thinks he Deserves.

don’t get me wrong, this new version of jeremy isn’t an inherently bad person, he isn’t even necessarily a fundamentally Different person. they’re both steeped in self hatred and isolation, broadway jeremy Is new jersey jeremy at his core, but broadway jeremy has pointed that inward turmoil Outward. he thinks of himself as the problem, that there’s something wrong with him and always has been, but at the same time he’s actively trying to convince himself that he wants what the squip is offering him because he’s Owed it.

this isn’t a problem on its own, I really vibe with “loser geek or whatever,” it has some Very poignant lines that gel with what jeremy’s always been even with the shift happening with his mindset here, but it’s unfortunately not a change that exists in a vacuum.

I could pick apart the whole musical and lay out all of the differences, but the change that’s prevented me from being able to enjoy the broadway version is “the pitiful children,” on a musical level but most importantly on a story and characterization level.

jeremy’s change in mindset in the broadway version Very Unfortunately leans into the entitled nerd boy trope, which didn’t necessarily have to detract from it (in my opinion, the charm of be more chill in general is how its characters are all tropes presented as real people, who are likeable because of how Human they are. you slowly grow into them the more you realize this), but the pitiful children just shifts jeremy Too Far into that trope in a way that the story never really recovers from.

the original version was the squip’s villain song where he took jeremy pointing out flaws with his actions (letting people get hurt despite having been able to help them and meddling in jeremy’s life in a way that made his relationships Worse) and convinced him that the problem was other people’s free will. he did this not by appealing to jeremy’s own desires, but by presenting other people the way that the squip had been presenting jeremy to Himself this entire time.

jeremy is a character that hates himself, that was so eager to find a way to “get better” because he sees everything that’s happened to him as being tied to some inherent flaw with who he is. the squip took this and reinforced it, convinced jeremy that he’s completely worthless without him, all while presenting himself as a savior figure to jeremy that was going to “fix” him. the pitiful children is the squip insisting that all people are like that, that all people are fundamentally broken and unhappy but that they can be Saved. jeremy going along with the squip here is presented as being tied to both his own self hatred And his desire to help people. the squip took advantage of his Kindness and that colors our interpretation of him as a person.

the broadway version of this scene is, a shell. it’s a mistake. in some ways it’s built on that same basis, it exists On Top Of what it used to be, but it paints jeremy completely differently. it is, quite literally, jeremy putting christine’s agency under his own desires. Now instead of the squip playing at jeremy’s self hatred, it’s convincing jeremy that christine doesn’t want to date him because there’s something wrong with Her Specifically, and the rest of the school is just kind of tacked onto it. it’s jeremy choosing his own desire to date christine Over her freewill while pushing everyone else’s fate to the side (when he knows that they’re Also going to get zombiefied in the process).

it’s a weaker villain song in general, the storybeat of convincing someone that humanity is fundamentally flawed but can be “fixed” is far more chilling than convincing someone that the girl they like is fundamentally flawed because they won’t date them. but it also just changes jeremy’s relationship to christine in a way that can Never be addressed because Jeremy’s the only character that knows it happened and it’s never a conversation that they have together.

it’s even worse in the live version (as opposed to the cast recording) because jeremy is an Active role in the broadway version when he’d had a passive role in the original. in the new jersey version jenna approaches jeremy, opening up about her own unhappiness after he asks her how she feels, the squip tells him that he can help her and Then jeremy gives her a squip. jeremy Watches her immediately become more lively and happy, with her joining the song and dance to convince him that this is the right thing. in the broadway performance jeremy approaches Her, he offers her a squip of his own accord and he brushes her off after she opens up to him in response. it’s no longer a beat reinforcing that the squip is taking advantage of his kindness, but him Openly Dismissing someone else’s suffering while he’s focused on getting what he wants. he’s dancing and singing along with the squip.

both versions of jeremy were manipulated, both versions of jeremy were stripped of their agency, but only one of them had a true villain arc. but their endings are the same. broadway jeremy isn’t an unsalvageable person, he Can grow and get better and I do think that he’s in the right direction for it. but he and christine are Not ready for a relationship, he’s Not at an ending point for his character growth. he did choose her agency in the end, but the fact that it was ever a question for him makes the saccharine tone of the ending feel Wrong in a way that I’ve never been able to move on from. 

broadway jeremy was complicated in a way that made him less likeable as a person but the Ending wasn’t made to accommodate this. the big flashy showdown Worked in the original Because it never convinced us that jeremy wasn’t a kind person. he needed a wake up call and time to heal, broadway jeremy needs therapy. (granted, new jersey jeremy Also needs therapy for the Definite ptsd that he has, but that’s a separate issue).

the broadway version opens a conversation that it wasn’t interested in closing, they left their happy storybook ending for a story that Needed a serious confrontation that challenged their protagonist not just on the fact that they were Wrong but on the fundamental flaws with how they treated and thought of other people. it wasn’t necessarily jeremy’s Fault but he needed more solid character growth than what he was given and it’s a weaker story for it.

I think if the pitiful children had been left largely the same I might’ve been able to grow to like the broadway version and all of its differences, but it’s just the Weaker version as is and it Needed to push the changes harder than it did if it was really committed to this change in direction.

#be more chill #bmc #jeremy heere #jeremy bmc #broadway #meta #long post #king of writing essays that only I care about

[averykedavra]

joan - what do you wish the series would cover next, or what kind of turn would you want to see it take?

!! okay this is a really fun question. ‘cause i’ve thought about this a lot. timeline-wise, I only got really involved with the fandom around the release of ATHD, and ever since then i’ve really enjoyed imagining the “next” events of the series. sometimes theories, sometimes just AUs, but it’s always fun!

and see, there are tons of things i’d love to explore in the context of canon. like sides switching from light to dark, or a side shutting themselves off, or serious backstory elements like the formation of roman and remus. tons of stuff that’d be super cool to think about.

but they’re not stuff i’d actually want in canon necessarily, you know? and they’re mostly not stuff i’d ever expect canon to actually do. so here’s a little incomplete list of things i’d love to actually see in the series, and which I think are (semi)-plausible:

1. Roman’s arc. had to add this one. I’m pretty sure it’s coming up after PoF (and it better) and I am so, so excited. roman’s been a slow-boiling pot of emotional turmoil for a while now and I just wanna see it spill over!

and look. don’t get me wrong, i love the pintroverts so much, but—yeah, i really wanna see thomas and nico go through a rough patch. thomas, and by extension roman, are pinning so many expectations on nico. they’re emotionally unready and using nico like a way to redeem themselves and feel better, instead of confronting their own issues. not to say the relationship can’t work out, but i can figure there’ll be some bumps on the road.

and possible failure with nico would be a great catalyst for roman’s full breakdown. he’s got everything riding on this guy! he calls nico “a chance at happiness”! and he’s the romantic side, he wants this to work out, so thomas will trust him again. and if it fails, it’ll break roman into tiny, tiny pieces.

plus, i know the season finale is probably going to be a two-parter, like with virgil’s episode? and i don’t know if i actually want roman to duck out, but i am really excited for some parallels to virgil’s arc. acceptance instead of redemption, being more than your function, every side being valued, and virgil and roman continuing to become closer together. if i do not get a remix of “you make us better” but virgil to roman, i will riot /j

2. Logan’s arc. then following roman, our braincell boy! logan is another steaming pile of issues who’s been repressing for far too long. i want to see him admit he has feelings. i want to see him cry. maybe this is the angst demon in me, but come on, he deserves it.

an aspect of logan that’s really fascinating to me is his relation to thomas’ own self-image and needs. logan defines himself by his use to thomas—he has the least belief in himself as a separate entity. and he’s felt sidelined for a long time, possibly ever since thomas became a youtube.

i think it’d be super interesting to see more of how their dynamic was before thomas made the career switch, how logan feels about it, and how his “lack of feelings” is an extension of his refusal to acknowledge his own personhood. he doesn’t let himself want or feel—and he’s actually kinda similar to roman in that regard. roman and logan are narrative foils in a lot of ways. which would make it kinda cool if their arcs were somewhat consecutive—logan helps roman value himself, and roman returns the favor.

oh, and i’d love it if virgil and logan could come full circle, too? virgil comforts logan during the whole thing, maybe even talking to him about cognitive distortions or using techniques logan taught him to destress. they’re really good friends and i wanna see more of that.

3. Janus becoming part of the group. i have so many feelings about janus. he’s poised to join the gang and start helping thomas from the inside, but his acceptance is still conditional, fragile, and fragmented. roman loathes him, logan resents him, and virgil has a history with him. and janus is gonna have to try and get through all that.

i already love his dynamic with patton, i really want them to be friends. i think a logan and janus debate would be fucking fantastic. i am begging for roman and janus to talk things out. and i really, really want to see virgil and janus become friends again.

but maybe what i’m most interested in is janus himself, and his relationship to thomas. i still love interpreting the “is that fair to him” line as referencing janus’ complex and difficult role as the keeper of all lies. he’s still hiding an orange side from us, probably, and he’s trying to keep everything stable.

what happens if he slips up? what happens if he gets close to patton and starts having new priorities? how did that affect his relationship with virgil? i want to really explore janus’ character and motivations.

and also janus and remus content. give it. this is an order.

4. Remus. Literally anything remus. Please I’m starving, I just want to see my trash boy, when will he return from the war?

Seriously, though, I’d love more remus. his thoughts on nico. his motivation, his daily life, his relationship with janus and the other sides. i think he could really be great friends with all of them if he was given time to settle, and my intruality heart says he deserves to be chaotic besties with patton.

and! and his relationship with roman!! i really wanna see them grow closer and be bros, while working through the deep complexities of their issues with one another. because right now roman has so many projections of remus as his worst enemy and the epitome of everything he doesn’t wanna be, and remus just…doesn’t care about all that. that’s so interesting!!

remus is just such a refreshing character in so many ways. he’s so blunt and open and honest, he doesn’t hide or repress anything, and that’d be so much fun to explore! plop him in the middle of the other sides and see how long it takes for stuff to explode. i wanna see him break the status quo just because he can.

5. Patton’s arc. oh, you thought his character development was done? not even close. he learned a lot from moving on, but pof proved he still has a long way to go. and tbh I think he’s in a really precarious position right now.

yeah, he’s finally opening up to janus and the others. but he’s also very vulnerable, very unsure, and very ready to throw himself out of the picture if thomas needs him to. he asked if janus thought patton was just bad for thomas, and he seemed ready to take that advice and leave thomas be.

which is. concerning. and I think as patton learns to pull back and let thomas--and everyone--stand on their own without him smothering them, as he learns to have faith in others and not feel pressured to fix everything himself, he needs to work on his own self-worth, too.

patton, like a lot of the sides, is separating himself from his function. and that’s gonna be painful and messy and probably include a lot of backsliding. i wanna see him talk to the others, really talk to them, and get the support from his friends he needs! and that includes:

6. virgil continuing to support his friends. virgil has been doing great character-development-wise, but again, he has far to go! and what I want to see more of is stuff like FWSA. him beginning to truly support his friends in the way they’ve supported him.

his friendships with roman and logan are so sweet and I wanna see more of that. please. and I wanna see him bond with remus and janus again, and most of all, I want patton and virgil to really sit down and talk about stuff. they’ve been going through it for a while and I want them to talk.

the sad part, of course, is that post-pof they’re probably in an even worse place. there’s a reason patton didn’t show up in FWSA even when matters of the heart were involved. they’re on thin ice around each other, and throwing janus and roman into it will just make everything more complicated.

but I believe in them! they’re good friends, and I think if they try, they can work through it and learn more about each other.

7. bonding between the dark and light sides. basically already covered this one but guys. i want everyone to bond. i want logan and remus sharing cool facts. i want janus and virgil being snarky best friends. i want patton and remus teaming up to make stuff happen, and janus calling logan out on his repression, and virgil and remus listening to mcr and just. them, okay? them. glad we had this talk.

8. a breaking down of the dark sides and light sides altogether. i don’t necessarily mean anyone becomes a dark side (although it’s such a fun idea.) I mean really digging into the morality and formation of the “sides”, and eventually dismantling them.

the dark and light sides aren’t good and evil. they’re sides that thomas wants around, that are useful, and sides he doesn’t. and as janus becomes wanted at the table, and as patton and roman pull away and become less useful, it’ll be interesting to see how those dynamics shift.

the issue of identity is really at the heart of sanders sides. how much of you is you, and how much of it is what others want? are you beholden to others’ expectations, and how do you find personal worth? what defines you--by what measure is a man? how does a person change and grow? can they? or are they always, at the core, what they began as?

these questions obviously don’t have simple answers, but they’re stuff I wanna see talked about. i want to see the difficulty of even finding the line between selfishness and selflessness when you exist to serve another self. actions can be selfish and selfless all at once, a mass of contradictions that’s anything but black and white. and I wanna see more of that.

an idea I toy with sometimes is having a brief, or not so brief, reversal of dark sides and light sides. remus and janus, and maybe virgil, become more listened to. and roman, patton, and logan become the sides in the background. i dunno if it would actually happen, but I think it’d be interesting to consider--because once again, it’s about use versus value and wants versus needs.

if thomas wants a side, will they stick around? what about if he only wants to want them? what if he wants them as a friend but doesn’t need their function? what if they don’t think he wants them? what if any number of things?

i want to see discussion and deconstruction of the sides as a whole. i want to see them really dig deep into their purpose and formation. i want everything laid bare. and then finally, I want:

9. thomas ends the series by letting go of the sides. i am such a fucking sucker for bittersweet open endings like that. it wouldn’t be a full erasure of the sides, they’d still exist in the mind palace, probably hanging out and having movie nights and being a family. but they wouldn’t talk to thomas anymore.

i think it could be a really profound note about not only letting go of parts of your life and moving forward, but how c!thomas should work to stand on his own. yes, the sides are parts of him, but he’s more than the combination of their input. he’s his own person. he’s real. and I think he needs to work on being more self-reliant, in the moment, and start to discover his identity not in pieces, but as a whole.

the sides weren't bad for him. not in the slightest. they’ve helped him understand and come to terms with any number of things. but sometimes people grow and move forward, and they have to say goodbye to some parts of their life. that’s a fact. and with the ongoing theme of moving on and chasing the future, i think thomas would reasonably do that--end the series with a goodbye.

10. and...orange side. i’ve talked a lot about my ideas for the orange side, but suffice it to say, i’m looking forward to them. whoever they end up being.

so yeah, that’s a very long post about my ideas that isn’t half as long as it could be dhfgsjhs i’ve considered writing something like a canon divergence AU, or just rambling on tumblr, but for now that’s what I got. and this is all to say, hire me, sanders sides writing team /j

#sanders sides #patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #long post #asks and answers #anon #ts ask game #i'm so sorry for the length this went overboard sgfshsjks

[chrisevansgoodgirl]

give me all your venom, i love that shit

summary: i do apologize. no one asked for this...but i accidentally watched assassination nation. okay, it was intentional the first time. but the twenty times after that while i was writing this were accidental. anyway...smut stuff. webcam smut with love of my life Andrew Barber.

warnings: cheating. age gap. andy gets a little dark. this is prob as dark as i would ever write this perfect, beautiful man. a million and one pet names also.

word count: around 11,100 lol oops

pairing: andy barber  x reader

a/n: so yes, age gap. it’s unclear what that is. go ahead and do what you will. it’s truly none of my business. also...one day, i’ll write in my tags ‘i’m gonna post tonight’ and actually post that night. not 300 nights later!

Laurie was a great woman, pretty much the kind of woman that you had always wished your mom would just wake up one day and feel completely compelled to act like. She was always so nice when she spoke to you, even the times you were clearly a little drunk and practically falling out of your tiny skirts.

She chalked it up to youth, so you’d once been told. That was huge in the little town you lived in. Mostly, if people saw all the skin you were showing, what they thought of you was clearly written all over their faces.

Laurie just liked talking to you. About anything. Everything. School, friends, boys, the future. This interest that she took in you didn’t end when you stopped babysitting for the Barbers, if anything, it made your conversations warmer. It was evident that the little time she could get with you was precious to her.

Jacob was the sweetest kid in the world. You had been apprehensive when she first called you. One reason only: babysitting boys was the worst. They were little demons and their parents either were blissfully unaware or did know and just didn’t care. You’d seen the same show for several years.

Not Jacob. And definitely not the Barbers. They were all so perfect and well-adjusted. You hadn’t been sure what to make of them those first few months. You had briefly suspected that both Laurie and Andy were total sociopaths who’d spawned another little sociopath. Come to find out, you just actually had such a fucked-up family situation.

Jacob loved playing video games with you, even though you were terrible at them. He never got upset when you made him lose, he just insisted that you needed to practice. Around the time you left, you’d started to get a little decent at them. He also enjoyed coloring and reading, two of your preferred babysitting activities.

Still, he was also an energetic little boy and that meant that he had dragged you outside sometimes to play very distracted versions of soccer, basketball, baseball a few times, and football once. Only once.

You’d both ended up covered in mud, it had been raining that morning but neither of you wanted to be deterred by that. When Laurie found you, she was horrified. Maybe a tad amused, seeing as she needed several pictures of the two of you.

You had wanted to walk home that night, the same thing you did after most shifts. The problem was, they had arrived home a bit later than usual. Laurie first, Andy about 10 minutes later. You didn’t want to walk through the house, so while Laurie was still threatening to hose off Jacob outside, you made your way around to the front porch.

Just as Andy was unlocking the front door.

Andy. He was easily the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on. Mostly, he was in these perfect god damn suits because he was a lawyer. Other times, he didn’t shy away from tight shirts that clung to his arms and chest, and jeans that did the same for his ass.

The coveted position of babysitting for the perfect, loving Andy and Laurie Baber. It was hilarious that it went to you because you were the only one who hadn’t been desperately trying to get it. All your friends would bend over backward, even though a friend of a friend of a friend, Julia Something, had claimed that Jacob was an utter hellion.

But what it came down to was the fact that Andy looked like he had been made by someone trying to create the perfect human being. Everyone was just looking for a way in and when you got it, no one could believe it. You hadn’t been as serious about babysitting. You liked the families you liked and tended to stick to three to five, but Laurie got your number from one of those mothers. How could you say no?

According to many of your friends, you should have. It was a betrayal, but one they couldn’t be too mad about because only an idiot would turn down an offer like that. They tended to pay generously also, so it took a total of three seconds to decide you were in.

He arched an eyebrow at you. “Back door locked?”

“No, I just didn’t want to walk through the house.”

“Right.” He gave you a once over before turning down to his phone. “Do I even want to know?”

That would officially mark the most words he’d ever said to you in one conversation. Laurie loved you, Jacob claimed that he was never, ever going to allow another babysitter to step inside his house, but Andy hardly even looked at you. That wasn’t uncommon. Most of the dads didn’t care, but those were the families that you didn’t stick with for too long.

“Football,” you explained.

He gave you a surprised look.

“But don’t get your hopes up or anything. Jacob sucks.”

He scoffed.

“Can you grab my bag? It’s just right by the door.”

“Heading home?”

“I should. My parents hate when I work this late, they’ve probably been texting me for the past two hours now.”

“Yeah, one sec.”

He didn’t close the door after him so you could hear Jacob excitedly screaming about his father being home. Andy was a great dad and Jacob idolized him just as much as he idolized Laurie. It was a beautiful family dynamic that sometimes still baffled you. Your family looked much different.

He returned with your bag.

“Thanks.” You took it and turned.

“Y/N!”

You looked back as Laurie was rushing out.

“Oh, don’t walk home, dear. Andy will drive you.”

The look on his face told you that he had not offered and that she hadn’t even run it by him before that moment.

“Oh, no, that’s okay,” you attempted to decline. “Honestly.”

“It’s late and cold.”

“I don’t want to get mud all over the car.” It was an expensive fucking car.

“Nonsense, it’s just a car,” Laurie insisted. “Besides, I paint the house a lot. I’m sure we have a few tarps still. Andy, will you go get one?”

He didn’t need further prompt to disappear inside. Laurie apologized for being late, you told her not to worry about it—more time with Jacob was never a bad thing. She thanked you for everything you did for them and you shyly accepted. She asked about your parents then, and before you had to give an elaborate answer, Andy was back with the tarp.

The drive was awkward.

It had started silent and you tried to hide away in your phone, but apparently, no one felt like texting you in that moment. Prior, your friends had been trying to talk to you nonstop, but wasn’t life just funny like that?

You felt like an idiot just staring out the window. This wasn’t anything you hadn’t seen around a thousand times before; he wasn’t even driving a different way. It looked like you were trying to avoid him and this insane, aggressive part of you just hated to appear weak or caught off guard.

Maybe it was your fault then. You were the one who spoke first and after that, things were just different. “How was work?”

It took him a moment to come up with a reply, and what a reply it was. “Fine. I guess.”

“Cool…” you sighed, clicked your tongue a couple of times, then glanced at him. He was staring forward, eyebrows pulled together, confused. Sure, he’d never taken much of an interest in you, and up to that point, as far as he knew, you’d never taken an interest in him. “What kind of lawyer are you?”

“What kind?”

“Like…a wife kills her husband for all of his money. Where are you in the courtroom?”

He chuckled. “I’m a public defender. I don’t normally get cases like that, unless my boss is trying to get on the good side of some irritating, rich people.”

You hummed. “You like it?”

“I do.”

“Cool.”

“Why all the questions? You want to be a lawyer?”

You snorted. “I was just curious. I don’t really hear you talk about work.”

He didn’t say anything else and you felt shot down in a sense. Most fathers were easy to talk to. They loved to hear their own voice and they loved how you pretended to like to hear every word. Obviously, Andy wasn’t in that group. At least a few of your friends had responded to your texts so it wasn’t terribly awkward. He said goodnight when you climbed out of the car, you said it back and closed the door.

You thought that was that.

After that, any time you babysat, he would drive you home. Laurie didn’t even have to say anything, it was just expected that he would do it. He was the one who spoke on the second drive because you weren’t going to try again. It was just stupid stuff. How you were doing with school. How your family was. How your friends were. How your boyfriend was. Because you had a boyfriend, right? He had asked but you knew that he knew you did, Laurie asked about him a lot. Andy never seemed to be paying attention.

That was how it was for almost a month. Then something just changed. The conversations became something else. He asked you where you wanted to go, you weren’t sure you wanted to leave Massachusetts, but you knew you wanted to put some miles between you and your family. He asked you about the future, where you saw yourself. He told you a little about himself, only what he had wanted his life to look like when he was your age.

He had believed he was going to be a high school history teacher.

It wasn’t weird. You didn’t talk to any of the other fathers like this, but it didn’t feel like something you shouldn’t be doing. He just liked talking to you and he actually wanted to hear what you had to say, what you thought about things.

It was innocent. Even when he started coming home early just to make sure he could drive you home. Even when you started taking your jacket off in the car or crossing your legs and pretending you didn’t notice that your skirt was riding up. Even when he looked at you and you acted like you didn’t see it. Even when you would end up sitting in his car, parked down the street from your house, just talking because he knew you didn’t want to go inside.

Perfectly innocent. For almost six months.

You were walking home from school when you got a text from Jacob. He couldn’t find his science project that you had helped him work on. You could have just told him where it was, but then you wouldn’t get the chance to stop by the Barber house. You showed up and Laurie happily invited you in. It was in the garage, something you pretended to remember after about an hour. Jacob had a play date so when his friend’s parents picked him up, Laurie asked you to stay for coffee.

You did. You wanted to extend your time there because even if he didn’t come home soon, Laurie would tell him you had been there. She would mention you and he would be thinking about you. Which is all you ever really wanted.

But sometimes your plans didn’t really work out. You had been turning down jobs, better-paying jobs, jobs you’d had far longer than the Barbers. They had been friends of your parents, it was how you met them, so typically, word got back to your mother. She felt you were the most irresponsible person in the world and didn’t fail to remind you of those feelings when she sent you seven texts and ordered you to get home.

You didn’t want to deal with the chaos of making her angry by spending any more time trying to see Andy. It was a failed attempt at getting closer to him, and as you were walking down the street, you were almost thankful. What the hell were you doing? Why were you trying to get closer to him? Jacob’s father, Laurie’s husband, your boss. That was it. That was all he could be.

But then, much earlier than you’d ever seen him, he was driving by you. You smiled, waved, but kept going. He was the one who circled back and told you to get in. You didn’t need to be told twice. You wanted to talk anyway, you wanted to tell him what was going on with your mother.

He parked down the street again. It wasn’t dark like it usually was but there was no one around. Everyone was staying warm inside. The heaters were on and you had draped your jacket over your legs. It was freezing but leaving the car was the last thing you wanted to do.

He only spoke when you had finished venting. And it wasn’t in the direction you had thought it would go. “You’ve been turning down jobs?”

Shit. You just shrugged. “A few, I guess.”

“Why?”

“I’m busy.”

“You’ve been around the house a lot more lately,” he pointed out. “Is that how you’ve been so busy lately? With Jacob? With us?”

“I…I just don’t feel like babysitting for them anymore.”

“Because you just want to babysit for us.”

“I don’t know,” you finally said. “I don’t know why I’ve been turning them down.”

“I know.”

You lifted your eyebrows.

He placed his hand on your thigh with absolutely no hesitation.

You couldn’t explain how good his skin felt against yours. Like after running a mile and then finally catching your breath. Or waking up and seeing that you still have hours before your alarm clock goes off. Like when you’re walking down the streets during October and the houses are all decorated. Like when you’re starving and you finally eat something you’ve been craving.

“You want to see me.”

“I like seeing Jacob,” you muttered. You saw his hand move up before you felt it, your breath audibly caught and you shuddered. Pathetic. Weak. Desperate.

“You come over almost every day.”

You turned up to him, trying to keep your voice level. “You come home early every day.”

“I want to see you,” he assured. “Just like you want to see me…right?”

You nodded.

“Because you feel something for me.”

You wanted him, that was the best way to describe it. So fucking bad, so bad you couldn’t think straight sometimes. So bad that when your boyfriend touched you, you nearly got physically sick sometimes. So bad that in your bed, at night, with your hand between your legs, you pictured Andy and no one else.

“And you feel something for me,” you countered.

“I do.”

Before you could respond, his phone was ringing. Laurie, oh god. He saw the look on your face but clearly had no interest in letting those logical emotions—shame, guilt, disgust—grow. “Give me your phone.”

You weren’t sure why you did so. He handed it back to you with a new contact. Under the name: Daddy. You closed your thighs, rubbing them together, catching his fingers where they were still laid over your leg. You were so wet, desperate for some friction.

“You’re going to go inside,” he started. “You’re going to go to your bedroom, strip down, get in front of your mirror, and fuck your fingers. You’re going to watch the whole time. Then, when you can’t take another orgasm, you’re going to send me a picture.”

“Of what?”

“Whatever you want.”

Your mind was reeling. You had never sent naked pictures before, but that was because you knew what would happen if you did. They would get shown to everyone. Andy couldn’t show anyone. Andy wouldn’t show everyone even if he could.

“Okay.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Okay?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

You swallowed thickly. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Give me your panties,” he ordered. “I want to take them home.”

You wondered if he had done this before, if he did it often maybe. But did it matter? At the end of the day, that wasn’t going to make either of you any less terrible than you were being.

But there was just one problem with his request. “I’m not wearing any.”

His eyes dropped down. “You aren’t wearing panties?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“I think you do. Now, you didn’t plan on fucking me tonight. That’s too much too soon. But I am the reason…it wasn’t because you thought my fingers would end up buried in your pussy, not yet… Daddy wants an answer, baby girl.”

Baby girl. Oh, fuck. Instead of speaking again, you spread your thighs and brought your own hand up your skirt. You were soaking, something he could hear when you pressed your fingers down. Which was why you had decided to skip underwear. Any time he was around, in a suit, you were wet.

His hold tightened on your thigh and you let out this small whimper. It was almost deafening in that car.

You pulled your hand back and brought your drenched fingers up to the steering wheel. You just wanted to leave something for him without risking anyone seeing you both in a weird situation.

He leaned forward almost instantly, inhaling as his eyes shut. “Fuck, you smell exactly like I thought you would.” His tongue dipped out just slightly and he licked the slick off the steering wheel, groaning gently. “And you fucking taste…”

Your phone buzzed and you both startled. “Shit.”

Andy sat up, clearing his throat. “Go. Do what I said.”

You went to reach for the door, but he cleared his throat. Oh, god. After what you just did, could you even pretend that you hadn’t surrendered completely? “Yes.”

“Good girl.”

After that, it was all kind of just a blur. You quit babysitting, which was very hard. You really did love Jacob and you were sad for a very long time every moment you remembered that you weren’t going over there to see him. You were never going to that house again, at least that was what you had told yourself.

That meant you didn’t see Andy quite as often, which was probably for the best. But he saw you. Often. Very naked. You sent him nearly hundreds of pictures a month, dozens almost every night. He was never too busy for you and maybe you liked that, maybe that was what made you feel so special. Maybe it was just him, the way he looked at you during those awkward exchanges when your mother dragged you to the grocery store with her and you ran into them. Maybe it was when he would call you even though he was at the office once you got home because he wanted to hear you orgasm. Maybe it was after your boyfriend would drop you off at home—and Andy always knew because you told him, you weren’t going to lie, you had no reason to—and he would ask you if he touched you, if he made you come.

He was your age. Andy was much older. More experienced. He never failed to remind you that that meant he could make you feel so much better. You weren’t sure what you were doing, why you didn’t just break up with him. Security, probably. If Andy ever decided to end this. Whatever it was. At least you wouldn’t be alone.

When Laurie wanted something, she got it. It wasn’t because she was aggressive or just didn’t take no for answer. It was because she was such a good person, how could anyone feel okay disappointing her? You certainly couldn’t.

When she insisted that you come over for dinner, you knew it was wrong. You knew she would rightfully hate you if she knew what you were doing with her husband. You knew she would feel hurt by the both of you, betrayed, outraged, disgusted. But you went anyway, and it wasn’t to flirt with Andy. Sure, you had done that once or twice in the past, but not this time. This time was for Laurie because she missed you. You had quit so suddenly and then it was like you didn’t exist to her at all. You owed her this dinner.

The look on his face when he saw you in the living room told you that he hadn’t been told about this. He looked terrified, worried.

“Look who I ran into this morning!” Laurie called out from the kitchen. She was over the stove stirring some pasta and you were at the table looking at all of Jacob’s drawings he had done in the past few months since you’d last seen him.

You gave him a look. He should know better than anyone why this was something you couldn’t just get out of. He couldn’t be mad at you. And he better not be accusing you of playing with Laurie like this.

He nodded once, just slightly. “Y/N.”

“Mr. Barber,” you returned.

Then nothing, he went upstairs and you returned your undivided attention to Jacob. Around a half-hour later, Laurie had to go upstairs and drag him downstairs, both trying and failing to hide their irritation.

She asked you about the usual after you had all settled in a bit. School was always the start. Laurie told you that school was the most important thing in the world. She had graduated but with a degree that she didn’t utilize. She loved her life, but she had her regrets and she didn’t want you to make the same mistakes.

She moved to family next. You always kept the answers light around Jacob, knowing that Laurie could read between the lines anyway. Your mother joined two different book clubs. Laurie knew that meant she was just trying to avoid your father.

Then your boyfriend. Another thing she wanted you to be careful about. She wasn’t expecting to get pregnant with Jacob when she had. She loved both Andy and Jacob, but she would have loved to hold off for a few years. She told you to take care of yourself first. Take care of your dreams, your future, your body, your identity before you worried about anyone else. Be selfish, be ambitious. She was like a mom; one you never even knew existed outside of television. You often wished she weren’t so nice to you. You knew you didn’t deserve it.

She just wanted to know how he was. How long had you guys been together, again? Right, that was quite a long time, she claimed. Where was he working? The same place still? You felt Andy’s eyes on you the entire time. He hadn’t looked at you for the whole dinner until Laurie mentioned your boyfriend.

Did you know about his politics? She promised it was better to know before it was too late. She knew his parents, knew that they were rather conservative. Everyone there was, though. The chances of finding a perfect man? Well, Andy was already taken.

Had you guys spoken about the future? Not really, not cohesively, but that wasn’t the answer you gave. You knew what he wanted and he pretended that he didn’t know what you wanted, pretended that one day you would just wake up and see it all his way. What does he want to do?

You were thinking about Andy. His hands, his mouth, his beard. You thought about making him mad, jealous. You thought about how he would be short over text and make you send him pictures and videos until he was less angry, then he would call and his voice would be so deep, he would growl orders at you. Fuck. “Yeah…he wants a huge family.”

“Oh.” Laurie nodded, clearly it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “Well…what do you want?”

“I don’t know.” That wasn’t necessarily a lie, but Andy would give you hell for it later. He told you that was one of the sexiest things about you. That you knew what you wanted. Basically, he just meant it was sexy that you were selfish enough to be getting involved with him.

“Well, just make sure you know before you make any choices that can’t be undone.”

If only someone had given Andy this lecture all the way back. You wondered how things would be if he wasn’t married, if he had never met Laurie, but If he was still here. You wondered what relationship you would have with him.

“You want to stay in Massachusetts?”

You shrugged. Andy wouldn’t let you come later, until you promised you were going to stay. You just had this deep, sinking feeling he wasn’t going to be kind about it either. Good. It had been so long since he was rough with you. Even over text, he was dominant and in total control. He owned you but you were worried he was getting comfortable with that, you worried that he was under the impression that he could be less possessive. Hell no. You were his, undeniably, but only so long as he was going to claim you as his.

“Well, you’re young…the possibilities are endless.”

“Well, I hope you guys break up,” Jacob bluntly stated.

You and Laurie both turned to him with wide-eyed looks. Andy was stunned for a moment, then had to hide his smile by sipping at his beer.

“Jacob,” Laurie scolded. “Don’t say things like that. That was very mean.”

“Well,” he huffed, ‘if she has more time, she can come back to babysit me.”

You scoffed.

He turned to you. “Is it because of him?”

“No, I promise. I’m just…busy.”

“Busy?” He rolled his eyes. “Adults are always “busy”.”

“You know, I think it’s time I put him to sleep,” Laurie scoffed.

“No,” Jacob whined. “I never get to see her anymore!”

Laurie sighed. “Jacob—”

“I’m not going to bed until you promise to come back,” he declared.

“Jacob,” you pleaded.

He crossed his arms over his chest, brow furrowed. “I’ll stay awake forever if I have to.” Then he set his jaw and turned forward. He had never looked more like Andy, where usually, he looked eerily like Laurie.

You really did miss him. Not that you would ever tell Andy, but a part of you did resent him for the fact that you had to quit. It wasn’t all on him, but if he had never let this start, things would still be the same.

Laurie looked completely exasperated and it wasn’t like you didn’t have enough guilt where she was concerned. “Okay, Jacob, if you go to bed, I will try to come back for the summer. You know, I won’t be so busy.” You glanced at Laurie who appeared just as hopeful. “You know, maybe at least a couple of days while you guys are at work.”

“Well, I was going to do this later because I didn’t want you to feel like this was the only reason that I asked you here. We miss you and I just wanted to see you, but…” she glanced at Andy. “I just found out that I’m going to be taking a work trip this summer.”

“Work trip?” you inquired. You weren’t aware that her job would ever require traveling.

“Yeah, just this conference, kind of, for people who work with children. This is the first time we have been invited to it, so it’s really important but I’m just not okay leaving Andy and Jacob alone. Andy’s job…”

“I told you, I could take the summer off,” Andy assured.

Laurie gave him a look. Yeah, that was highly unlikely. Andy wouldn’t know what to do with himself after probably the first three weeks. She faced you. “I don’t want to put any pressure on you. If you can’t come back, we understand. The Rifkins were telling us about your friend, the one who also babysits. Her name is Lily…something?”

Your eyes instinctively went to Andy. He was giving you a knowing look. All your friends would fuck him in a heartbeat. You shouldn’t have cared. If he fucked anyone, you should have had the plan to just walk away. You doubted your ability to do that, unfortunately. And you couldn’t stand the thought of him touching her. Anyone but her.

“I’ll think about it,” you promised Jacob.

He smiled widely. “Okay, I’ll go to bed now. I’m exhausted.”

You smiled.

Laurie took Jacob upstairs after saying goodnight to you. That left you alone with Andy for what you both knew would be just enough time for anything, but you had your limits. Not in the house. Not while Laurie and Jacob were here. You decided it was time to call it a night and he decided he was going to walk you to your car. It was dark after all.

You just rolled your eyes and marched out the front door. You tried to stay in front of him so you could get inside your car first, so he couldn’t grab you or talk to you. You just needed to get out of there, anything that needed to be said would have to wait for that night when he texted you.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t get my kid’s hopes up.”

That was how he wanted to start? You looked back at him; eyebrows lifted. “You mean yours.”

“Jacob misses you—”

“And you?”

He sighed at you. “What do you want me to say?”

“Nothing, just don’t try to use Jacob against me. I will think about it…there are just things…that could go wrong.”

“Like what?”

“You know what, Andy—”

His eyebrows shot up. “What did you call me?”

You crossed your arms, silently staring up at him. Your back faced the driver’s side door, the handle perfectly in your reach if you needed it.

“Baby,” he warned. “Don’t start acting up right now just because you know I can’t do anything about it.”

“I’m not acting up—”

“Then what did you just call me?”

“Nothing,” you muttered. “I’m sorry, I meant to call you daddy.”

He moved closer then, either hand on the car door behind you.

Your eyes widened in sheer panic and you immediately looked around. It was too dark to see anything, and this was Andy Barber. He was a trusted and well-respected man. No one would think anything even if they did walk out and saw this with their own eyes. He was a damn good lawyer and could convince anyone of anything.

It had been months since you spent so much time with him, but even still, the closest the two of you had ever been was in the car. There was an invisible line that neither of you crossed because you never wanted to get caught. It was always so light out, your creepy neighbors would just sit on the porch from sunrise to sunset because they were desperate for anything.

This was different. There was no one around. There was nothing to stop either of you from taking this further than you ever had. This was the extent of your relationship. Stealing moments. Secrets. But he had never touched you, he’d never kissed you. It was all you could think about in that moment.

“What was all of that?” he asked.

“What?”

“All that bullshit? You lied to Laurie.”

You scoffed. “No, actually, I didn’t.”

“Really? That’s what you want to fucking do with your life? Just be some god damn trophy for that boyfriend of yours?”

You shrugged. “I would love to be a trophy.”

He glared. “You’re smart, okay? And you’re interesting—”

“So, instead of being a trophy, I should be a spectacle? I should entertain people—”

“That is not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“That I’m fucking angry.”

“About what?!”

“Him!”

Well, mission accomplished. It wasn’t that you were surprised he felt that way, you just weren’t expecting to hear him say it.

He sighed, turning up. He was probably watching the window to make sure Laurie hadn’t heard anything.

“What are you even angry about?”

“I work with his fucking father.”

“And?” you demanded.

He looked down at you after several seconds of staring at the window. “He always fucking talks about you. He thinks you’re going to marry his son.”

You shrugged. “Maybe I will.”

“Don’t.”

“Why not?” you pressed. “Maybe I fucking will, Andy.”

“He’s an asshole. You tell me all the time. And if you think I’m going to let you—”

“Let me?” you scoffed. “You’re married. You can’t do shit.”

The look he gave you told you that was the last thing you should have said. He grabbed your shoulders and turned you away from him, pushing you into the car door.

“Andy—”

 You were in a tiny pair of shorts, despite how freezing it was that night. That must have been what gave him the idea to smack you, more so your thigh than your ass, but it hurt, nonetheless. You slammed your hands over your mouth to stifle your yelp.

There were times when you thought you were going to die if he didn’t touch you. Obviously, you were always wrong, but you didn’t care. Sometimes, when you would plead to whatever or whoever it was up there, that you just needed him to touch you, just a touch, you would claim you didn’t care how. This worked. Even though it really fucking hurt and the cold air was still stinging your skin, this was what you wanted.

“You know what you need to be calling me, honey.” His hand was at the button of your denim shorts and you panicked.

You tried to catch his wrist, but he was much stronger than you. Before you said a word, he had yanked them open, the zipper too. But no, not now, not here. “Daddy, stop—”

“You still think I can’t do anything?”

“Please, not here—”

His fingers pressed against your stomach and traveled down. You instantly lost your ability to speak or think. When he reached the band of your underwear, he scoffed. “Wearing panties? Why?”

What kind of question was that?

“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” he cooed. “Such a sweet girl.”

“Daddy,” you whispered.

“Daddy will stop,” he promised. “But only if you want him to. Do you want daddy to stop?”

“Please.” Yes, please. But also, maybe please, don’t. Please, keep going. Please, touch me more because you never have. Please, touch me where we both want you to so bad.

“Okay, but first, I’m going to check if you’re wet. If you aren’t, fine. If you are, well, you know you’re not supposed to lie to me.”

“I’m not lying,” you promised. “But—”

“Shh, baby.” He pressed his fingers down and you felt like you were dying. Honestly, like your life was on the verge of ending because nothing had ever felt so good and nothing should feel so good.

He didn’t go inside your underwear, of course not. He was always teasing you. Instead, he moved down until he felt the material was damp and made a soft, disapproving sound.

“I wasn’t lying,” you insisted, trying not to move too much. If he thought you were enjoying this too much, he might decide to get cruel.

“So, you want daddy to stop right now?”

You wanted to say yes, you wished you could make yourself. However, you stayed silent because you knew he would stop, you knew he would completely withdraw from you until you were begging him. Mostly, you couldn’t force yourself to want him to stop touching you no matter how wrong you knew it was.

“You know, baby girl, daddy wants something from you.”

You almost promised him anything he wanted but thankfully, forming coherent words was still something beyond you.

“Daddy wants you to come back this summer.”

No. That wasn’t going to happen. You knew now that it couldn’t happen. You knew now that if you were ever in a room with Andy, that both of you would get as close as you possibly could, that you would try to touch in any way that wouldn’t raise concern. And if no one was home? If Jacob was upstairs and you and Andy were downstairs? No, you wouldn’t do that to Laurie. Not in her house.

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

You shook your head. “You know I can’t.”

“All I know is that I don’t like it when you tell me no.”

Which is something he wouldn’t actually know because you had never told him no. This was different. This was about hurting someone who had only ever been good to you. And Jacob—god, Jacob. If you were caught, Laurie would leave Andy and that was the last thing you wanted for Jacob.

“I’m saying no,” you insisted, but your voice was hardly more than a mutter.

He said nothing for several terribly long seconds, then pulled aside your panties and finally touched your pussy.

Your eyes fell shut and you pressed your forehead against the car window. His fingers moved higher until he circled them around your clit and you shuddered. Even biting your lip couldn’t completely muffle the sounds you were making.

He shushed you, a completely patronizing gesture as he was the reason you were being so loud.

“Daddy,” you gasped. “Daddy, please.”

“You want to come on daddy’s fingers?”

You nodded fast. “So bad, daddy.”

“Mm. Well, daddy wants you back, princess.”

“Daddy,” you whined. This couldn’t happen, not now. Where was his fear? Anyone could walk out. Laurie could just glance out the window and see everything.

“Daddy wants to see you back in the house every day. Playing on the floor in your tiny little skirts and your tiny little shirts that you never wear a bra with. Daddy wants to see you biting your lip and pressing your thighs together when you’re watching me, when you think I don’t notice.”

Fuck. You genuinely had thought you were being discreet. He was clearly discreet, however, because you had never noticed that he was watching so closely.

“But more than anything, I want to have you all to myself, baby girl.”

“I…would be babysitting,” you reminded.

“Jacob has a lot of friends. I’ll schedule him some play dates. Say yes.”

“No, daddy, please—”

“Say yes,” he ordered.

“I can’t.”

“I’m not going to let you come until you do.”

The noise you made was a cross between a cry and a whimper, something truly pathetic. He had you scared and he knew it, so he thrust two fingers inside you and when your mouth opened to scream, he wrapped his opposite hand around your neck.

You swore you would come just like that if he didn’t stop. You had dreamt about his hands around your throat. You would try choking yourself when you were making videos for him, but you knew it wasn’t like the real thing. When he would call you, you would always beg choke me, daddy.

His fingers were thick enough to stretch you even though you were dripping. Your mind wandered to his cock. You could feel it against your ass, and even through his pants, you could tell he was big. But it was little more than a theory. You’d never seen his cock because he didn’t send you pictures. Most of your relationship with Andy had been set around your imagination.

He kept you quiet with his hold around your neck, but his fingers fucked into you so hard that the wet sounds echoed down the empty street. If anyone found the two of you, you would be completely humiliated by how evidently desperate you were.

“Daddy,” you gasped when you felt yourself just right there, so close to that edge. Maybe you were biased in the moment in thinking that this was going to be the best orgasm you had ever had. You had toys, Andy had made sure of that, and some of them did the trick. But it was never like this. Close, at times, but only ever when you were making videos for him or talking to him on the phone. It was all Andy, he hadn’t been exaggerating when he was telling you no one else could make you feel so good.

“You close, princess?”

You hummed a confirmation and just like that, he pulled his hand away altogether. The one around your neck was keeping you quiet but your pussy was completely neglected. It was absolutely devastating.

Stupidly, you’d forgotten his grand plan of forcing you to say yes. You weren’t going to, this was so much bigger than this stupid affair. You could live with yourself knowing you were a whore, you could live knowing you were a homewrecker so long as no one else knew, but you could not and would not even attempt to be okay with sheer stupidity. And stupidity was playing this game. You didn’t understand why he wanted to either.

“How do you feel now?”

“No,” you snapped.

“Watch the tone,” he warned.

“God,” you huffed tiredly. “I can’t. No, I’m saying no.”

He simply hummed and with no warning, buried his fingers inside you once more. “Then I guess we’re going to be here for quite a while.”

A whine caught in your throat and you practically choked trying to talk to him. “Daddy, we’re going to get caught.”

“Then say yes. You think you can have an attitude and mouth off and I’m just going to let it go because we might get caught?”

Well, honestly, yes, you had expected that. This was bad and you knew you were fucked up because that was making it feel better. He was pressed against you, hiding you from any eyes that may look outside because he was insanely possessive and didn’t want anyone else seeing you naked. He was holding you so tight that it actually hurt and he was barely letting you breathe, you were getting dizzy and lightheaded and you just needed to come.

He did this to you so many times that you lost track. The only thing you did know was that it wasn’t taking long even though it felt like it. It was Tuesday night and you had been here enough at this time to know that this was a busy night for these rich people. You’d walked out of the house at 7:46. The bathroom light was still on and would be for another 30 minutes at least, because Jacob was a menace when he wanted to be—but never with you. Mrs. Johnson always came home from her cooking club at 8:20 to 8:30. Mr. Garcia would always come out at around 8:15 to leave his trash or recycling, depending on the night of the week. Sometimes, Mrs. Wilson’s grandchildren would stop by for late visits. They were all doctors and lawyers, at least, that was the reason they gave for never coming at a reasonable hour, but they actually just wanted money and knew she would be too tired to say no. Mrs. Taylor’s twin demons you once had the displeasure of devoting your Monday and Friday nights to had to go out every night at 8:30 until 10:00 because of some stupid project they were doing on stars.

Andy had to know all of this also, so you understood that he was just trying to call your bluff.

Well, fuck, it was going to work. You were terrified. There were so many variables, anyone could show up early. Or hell, there had to be some people here with drinking addictions, an affliction for pills, a house fire could start. Or a revealed affair could lead to a staged murder that looked like something else. Andy being so calm was almost worrisome.

But you were more worried about Laurie. Apparently, you weren’t like him. You couldn’t just shut off your guilt surrounding her. You knew you had to try one more time to get out of this. Andy was pretending right now to be so hard, but he was more than soft for you. He spoiled the hell out of you and let you be very bratty even though he put on a whole show that he couldn’t stand it. But you knew that when you gave him a look, when you softened your voice just enough, when you said the right things, that man would give you the world if he could.

In your littlest, whiny voice, you begged him. “Daddy, please.”

He froze for a moment, letting his hand fall away only to take your shoulders and turn you back to him. He was looking at you curiously, also a tad suspiciously.

You simply stared at him with pleading eyes. He couldn’t honestly think this was a good idea. “We can’t do this. Not around Jacob. Not in the house.”

Realization showed on his face and he scoffed. “Oh, baby, you really are the sweetest thing.” He leaned in to press you flat to the car door once more and brought his hand up, slipping his fingers into your mouth. His eyes were on yours the entire time, as you sucked and licked, and then as he started shoving them down your throat. You gagged, tears were running down your cheeks, and you had started rolling your hips, grinding against the bulge in his pants.

“You are the most beautiful little girl in the world, you know that?”

You hummed, thankful that you didn’t actually have to put an answer to that. He never stopped telling you that you were beautiful, that he’d never see someone else like you, but when you really had to think about it, you were just the average insecure person.

“You’re my little girl, yeah?” He pulled his fingers from your mouth, touching your swollen lips. “Tell me.”

“I’m your little girl.”

“Do you know how badly daddy wants to eat your pussy?”

It took you a moment, but when you realized that he wanted an answer, you shook your head. He didn’t talk about it much. He just liked to listen to you, he liked to tell you that he just wanted to be inside you, that he couldn’t wait to feel you around him.

“Mm…I do. I want to lick you for hours until your begging me to stop. I want you to come in my mouth. I want you to grind your pussy all over my face. You have to know how badly daddy wants you on his cock, though?”

“Yes.”

“Say you’ll come back, gorgeous. Of course, Jacob can never know, this isn’t a game. I just miss seeing you. I miss smelling your perfume and hearing you laugh. I miss having you so close.”

“I miss you, too,” you promised. But. There was still a but, even if you didn’t come right out and say it.

You felt his hands moving against your stomach and then you heard the zipper of his pants. Oh, god. He took your hand and slipped it down his boxers, you both shuddered as your skin touched his.

His eyes fell shut and he took a deep breath in. He tightened his hand around yours and began slowly jerking your hand up and down his cock. “What do you think, baby girl?”

“You’re really big, daddy.” And so fucking thick, you were going crazy just picturing yourself trying to ride him. He was much bigger than your boyfriend, much bigger than anyone else you’d ever fucked.

“Imagine my cock inside your beautiful little cunt. I bet it’ll hurt so much that you cry. And I am going to pound that pussy until you are so stretched and used that your boyfriend won’t be able to make you come at all.”

You wanted nothing more, but you also wanted to have a little bit of fun. “I said you were big…but I didn’t say you were bigger than him.”

He pulled his hand and yours out of his pants and the next second, he was on you. His hand was around your neck, his other holding your jaw, and his face just inches away from yours. “You fucking little brat. You’re lucky I don’t make you get on your knees and choke you on my cock.”

“Kiss me, daddy.”

And just like that, he was no longer upset with you. It was hilarious how easily you could push this man into anything you wanted. And he didn’t even care, he just wanted to give you everything you could think to ask for.

He sighed, glancing around. “I can’t do that, baby, not here.”

Then where? That was when you finally understood. He wanted you back so badly, because where else would you be able to do this? He could get a hotel room but if anyone ever saw you, there would be no defense. It would be apparent what you guys were doing. Your house? Your parents were always around. That only left his house and if Laurie was going to be gone…maybe you didn’t see much harm in that.

“Say yes,” he whispered.

You should have never turned around to look at him. He had won, there was no way you could deny him anymore. You nodded. “Yes, daddy.”

He smiled and your heart stuttered. He was the most beautiful man in the world. “I’ll let Laurie know...I’ll tell her this was why I was out here so long. And you, angel, need to go straight home, shove a toy in that pussy, and make some videos for daddy.”

It was weeks later than Andy told you he had a surprise for you. A few months had gone by. You hadn’t returned to the Barber home since the dinner and you kept your usual contact with Andy. Just more sending pictures and videos and texting every second it was possible.

He was still thrilled that you were going back for the summer and regularly checked in just to make sure that you didn’t change your mind about it. You still had a few months and he was constantly worried you would feel a sudden burst of guilt. It wasn’t too farfetched, actually.

When you got home, your mother informed you that you had received a package. She claimed it didn’t say who it was from. You knew what that meant. You had checked your phone that morning and saw a text informing you to expect something.

You texted Andy, I got it, then you went to your drawers to pick out something skimpy and lacy.

Good. Take off all your clothes.

Odd, he usually wanted you wearing something. You did as was asked of you and let him know when you were ready for more instruction.

Go to your bathroom with the box.

Once more, you let him know when you’d complied with his orders.

Open the box.

Inside was another smaller box, a picture clearly displaying the product. He bought you a dildo, a rather large one. You didn’t normally get toys this size, they were harder to film with.

Before you could respond, he texted again. Get it out of the box and clean it really well, then stick it to the floor.

Again, you followed his directions. Once it was set up and immovable, you let him know.

Get your laptop, we’re going to Skype.

That left you naked in front of your laptop that was a few feet away. He had you sitting with your legs bent and spread wide so he could see your pussy.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt, that was the first thing you noticed. The second was his background, you didn’t recognize it.

“Where are you, daddy?”

“Home. My office. Laurie’s sister is in town so they both went out to see her. Focus, baby. I’m going to send you some videos that I want you to watch.”

“Videos?” You had a feeling you already knew what he meant. And mere seconds later, got confirmation through the email link he sent to you. Porn. Not surprising and you weren’t really opposed.

The videos he sent you were all starred older men, many roleplaying as the stepfather, and younger women playing the innocent, naïve daughter. Older than you mostly, but still significantly younger than the men they were fucking. The videos started tame, small, just cheesy scenarios and rough sex following. But as he sent you more, the men became more dominant. They would choke, pull hair, spank, call her degrading names. You didn’t hate any of it.

He wouldn’t let you touch yourself and he didn’t touch himself. He just watched you the entire time, sometimes talking and asking you questions, but he mainly just wanted you focusing on this. He made you keep your legs open so he could make sure you weren’t being sneaky, which was slightly humiliating. You felt that voicing that, however, would be considered talking back.

It was nearly an hour later that he requested you show him how wet you were. Your fingers frantically ran through your cunt and you held them out toward the camera. He told you to pause the video and get on the dildo. You gracelessly rolled onto your knees, your legs just a little tired from the uncomfortable position he’d directed you to hold for so long. You climbed over the toy, one hand holding it as you straddled it.

“Just take it slow, baby girl.”

You carefully spread your knees further, bringing your pussy closer to the head of the fake cock. You heard him shifting as soon as if touched your skin. You weren’t as nervous as you should have been, you figured you were wet enough to take it all. That insatiable longing to be filled and ruthlessly fucked by him clouded your mind.

As soon as it was inside you by what probably wasn’t even an inch, you froze. Yes, bigger than anything you’d ever taken. It stung a little, yet you didn’t want to pull off completely. You kind of liked the pain anyway.

“Keep going.”

“It hurts.”

“Just try for me, angel.”

You set your hands to the floor, once again spreading your legs wider. The ache didn’t dull as you kept going. “Daddy, I think it’s too big.”

“I’m bigger, that’s why I want you to get used to it.”

Bigger? Even though you were struggling to handle this, you wanted him instead of the toy. You wanted him on top, forcing you to take his cock, cooing to you and kissing your face the whole time. This was a flawed plan that he came up with because you were going to need some major convincing to get any further on this thing.

“Take a minute,” he decided, and you needed no further prompt to pull off.

You hissed lightly, looking at it. You had barely made it down the head. So, this was going to be one of those long calls.

“Use your mouth,” he instructed.

That you could do. You leaned over it, immediately dropping down until it hit the back of your throat. Your eyes flickered up to the screen where you saw his arm moving so slowly, back and forth. You would ask later if you could see him, when you didn’t have something in your mouth.

“Baby doll, you are fucking beautiful.”

You hummed, pulling back and then sliding back down.

“Gag on it. I want to hear you choking.”

You prepped your throat by bobbing up and down, taking it a little further each time. It wasn’t until your nose was hovering just above the floor that you gagged loudly. You backed off hurriedly but did it once more, a second time, a third, a fourth, until he told you to stop.

“Stay there, sweetheart, keep it down your throat. Try swallowing around it. I want you to get used to that, too. That’s how I love having my cock sucked.”

You obeyed, attempting to swallow around the thick piece of silicone. Those tries were followed by a lot of short coughs, gagging noises, and your body moving almost violently every time you got just a little too ahead of yourself. You were suddenly very thankful that you’d woken up late, since you’d stayed up until almost 5 in the morning talking to him, and hadn’t had time to eat anything.

“You think you can do it now?”

You hummed and hoped he wouldn’t press for more. You weren’t sure. You were nervous to try but it wasn’t like he was going to let you off that easy.

“Okay, try again.”

Positioning yourself over it, you realized you were much wetter now. Getting the head inside was easy enough but just as soon, it started to hurt again.

“You okay, princess?”

“Yeah.” You turned your attention down and tried to force yourself to relax. You were nervous, double that now because you didn’t want to fail in front of Andy. You wanted to show him that you knew what you were doing and that when he finally fucked you, it was going to be perfect. You didn’t want him to think of you as some inexperienced little girl.

“Remember, take it easy. Don’t hurt yourself.”

You never thought you would have an issue with him babying you. “I wish this was your cock, daddy.”

He hummed as if it was a question but was much more focused on your comfort than your attempts to distract him.

“Mhm,” you returned. “I can’t wait to feel you inside me. I can’t wait to be filled up and dripping with your cum.”

“I’ll cover you in my cum, sweetheart. You wanna try taking a little more?”

You hadn’t moved and it was still aching, but your mind was getting hazy. You were thinking about Andy and how good he was going to fuck you. You wanted it so hard and so fast that you didn’t think the dildo would even suffice. You lowered a tad too fast, earning a disapproving sound from him.

And yes, it hurt, but admitting any type of defeat was beyond out of the question. “Fuck, daddy, it’s so big,” you sighed. You didn’t pull off, but you tried shifting your hips to get a little more comfortable.

“Fuck yourself with it.”

You used your arms for balance and began pulling back carefully before dropping back down. You did this several more times until it was no longer uncomfortably painful. “Daddy?”

“Yes, baby?”

You pushed yourself up, balancing on your knees as your hands came up to your breasts. “Can I see you?”

He arched an eyebrow at you. “You wanna see me?”

You nodded. “Please?”

He sat up, pushing the laptop back as he stood. You finally got to see that hard stomach you had been pressed against that night and it did not disappoint. You had no idea that he was going to look so strong and beautiful—and honestly, what the hell was he doing with you? You were confident enough and sometimes, some days when things were just going your way, you even loved how you looked. But Andy was inhumanly, unfairly breathtaking.

Then you saw his cock and you instantly whimpered. He was so big, bigger than the toy just as he’d claimed. You’d suspected he was exaggerating, most men did. He laid his cock out on the desk, tip leaking, skin angry and red.

“Daddy,” you whispered.

“What, honey?”

“I can’t wait for summer. I need you now.”

“Just be patient. You need to get a little more accustomed to the toy first because I’m not sure I’m going to be able to be gentle.”

“I don’t want you to be gentle.”

“You want daddy to make it hurt?”

“Yes.”

“Touch your clit, princess. I want to see you come.”

Your hand snapped down to your cunt, mindlessly searching for, and at times successfully catching, that hypersensitive spot. As soon as you heard him grunting, jerking himself off to the sight of you, you knew you weren’t going to last long.

You watched his arm move, the way his muscles tensed, you noticed the veins. He wasn’t the kind of man to show off. His suits were always fitted and occasionally, he wore a short sleeve tee, but you were starting to realize he was rather modest. It was this secret that he finally told you, he was finally showing you parts of himself that you never would have known about had he not extended some type of trust to you.

You needed him to fuck you. You needed him wrapping his arms around you and holding you against his chest, hips thrusting into yours. You were bouncing on the dildo now, uncaring of how much it hurt, fingers still rubbing large, unskilled circles into your clit. You were high off him, completely entranced and focused on Andy. “Daddy…”

“You close?”

“Yes. Can I please come?”

“You can come, angel.” He stroked himself faster, opposite hand settling on the desk as he leaned over a little.

You took as much of the dildo as you could and stayed, just focusing on touching your clit. You whimpered and whined as you approached your finish, mewling ‘daddy’ at least a dozen times, and told him several times that you needed him inside you, and promised you would do anything for his cock. He was quiet even though he was still fucking his fist, wanting to hear every sound you were making for him.

You nearly collapsed when your orgasm hit. Thankfully, instead of down—because seriously, this was an obnoxiously large toy and there was still so much that wasn’t inside you yet—you fell forward and caught yourself with both hands. You continued to roll your hips, haphazardly moving your hair out of the way with one hand at a time so he could see your breasts move and just how far down you were getting. One feeling you never quite got rid of, no matter what you were doing, no matter how good whatever you were being fucked with was: his praise was even better than coming.

“Fuck, baby girl,” he blurted out. You heard one of his knees buckle, it hit the desk he was standing behind.

“Are you close, daddy?”

He hummed shortly.

“I wish I was there, daddy. I want to taste you so bad.”

And that was all he needed. With a slight groan, his cum streaked out onto the desk between him and his laptop. His hand slowed but didn’t fully stop until he was done coming. He fell back into his chair, chest rising and falling with his quick breaths.

“You want me to come over, daddy? I could help you clean your desk.”

He scoffed. “Come on, princess, don’t start being a tease.”

“I’m not,” you promised. “Really, I’ll come over if you want me to.”

He finally looked back at the screen, eyes moving over you as you pushed yourself back onto your knees. Though you still felt the toy was too big, it no longer hurt so you were counting this a success. If you continued to use it every day until you were working for him again, fucking him wouldn’t be so difficult. At least you hoped.

“You wanna come over? You’re not scared of getting caught anymore?”

You shrugged. Yes, you were still terrified but your pathetic desire to be touched by that man could make you do some pretty stupid things.

“Don’t be a brat,” he scoffed.

“Then you should come here. My parents won’t notice.”

“I’m not some uncontrollably horny teenage boy you can convince to sneak in through your window. Come on, you just gotta wait a little longer.”

You sighed. “But I want you.”

“I know, trust me, I want you…” His eyes lowered on the screen and he sighed. “I want to taste you, too. Especially after you just finished.”

You leaned forward to grab the edge of the laptop and pulled it closer. “Look, daddy, I took a lot.”

“You did, baby,” he agreed, voice still just a little light. You came down much faster than him. You had to stall and get him ready to go before he decided it was time to end the call. You wanted to see him. In person. And you were not opposed to playing dirty.

“Do you want me to try again? I can do more—”

“No, no, don’t worry about it, angel. You did good today, you need to rest before we do this again. Maybe take a day or two.”

A day or two? Fuck that. He couldn’t see your face, all he could actually see was the dildo still buried in your pussy. You looked down, finding your slick was dripping down the toy. This was going to be easy. You took your fingers and ran them up, collecting what had leaked out of you. You brought it up to your mouth and moaned lewdly—you had to be a little extra, just to make sure he knew.

“Sweetheart,” he warned.

“I wish you could taste me, too, daddy. I’m really good.”

“Come on,” he complained. “Stop it, right now.”

“I could get in my car right now, daddy. We could drive out to that dead-end street by the park. Just one quick, little taste and then I’ll come back home and get into bed and make some more videos for you.”

He said nothing, which you always knew actually meant that you were closer than he wanted to let on.

“Please, daddy? I just need something…summer is so far away.”

“Damn it,” he muttered, finally sitting up straight in the chair. “Damn it, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry, daddy but I really, really need you.” You started to pull your hips up and then slowly slid back down. “Can’t you hear how wet I still am?”

“Fuck,” he hissed. “Okay. Okay, fine.”

You shoved the laptop back, leaning down on your forearms. “Really?”

“But you’re going to keep that toy inside your pussy.”

“What?”

“Keep it right where it is. Get dressed. Drive to the dead-end street. Wait for me. Oh, bring a towel.”

“A towel?” You tried not to sound too excited, but you knew you’d failed. He wasn’t really planning on fucking you, was he? You wanted it, you would never say no to that man, but you hadn’t thought it would be so easy.

“You’ll need to bite down on something when I’m spanking you.”

Oh, fuck.

#andy barber x reader #always accepting andy requests just fyi #my writing

[ezrasarm]

Funeral Suit

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader

Warnings: Angst (I know, unheard of in Marcus fics), 10 ply fluff

Word Count: 2.4K

A/N: Y’know how some stories just sort of fall into place without even having to think about it? This was one of those. It was inspired by the song “Funeral Suit” by Lisa Hannigan. There’s also another song that I’ve embedded in here because multimodality is a wonderful thing!

It wasn’t too late but it was late enough that you were a little confused when a soft knock sounded from your door. Getting up to look through the peep hole you were surprised by who you saw to say the least. “Marcus?” You mumbled still in slight disbelief when you opened the door. You hadn’t even processed that he was back in town. He stood there, gaze cast down on his shoes as he rocked back and forth on his heels nervously. He wore a jet black suit and it reminded you of something he’d told you ages ago. Black suits were reserved solely for weddings and funerals in his book. He thought they made him look too serious. He must have come straight here from the reception and the idea made your stomach churn with guilt. 

“Yeah,” he muttered before flitting his gaze up to your eyes and you noticed a slight blush had risen to his cheeks. “Sorry, this was a dumb idea. I should have given you a heads up first or something.” He said, a self deprecating chuckle escaping him as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. When you still hadn’t said anything he shook his head with a slight huff, taking a step back and motioning to turn away, maybe even leave. The thought of that made your heart lurch in your chest.

“Wait, Marcus.” You said, catching his wrist and the touch sent a spark of familiarity up your arm. God, you had missed him. “Come in.” You said, and as though muscle memory had completely taken over your actions, you were pulling him into a tight hug, one arm looped around the back of his neck pulling his head down to your shoulder while your other arm wrapped around his back. You swear you fit together like puzzle pieces. This is exactly what home felt like. 

“I saw your parents.” He hummed into your neck, not quite ready to pull away from your embrace.

“I just got off the phone with them. They said it was a beautiful reception.” You noted, only now pulling away so you could look him in the eye. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I couldn’t get out of this shift.” You explained, remorse set in the slight furrowing of your brow knowing that you had taken the shift quite purposefully. It was only now that he had even realized you were still in your work clothes and suddenly he felt like an idiot again. You must have been exhausted. He recalled the long phone calls he’d spend with you when you first started this job years ago. Long hours and emotionally draining shifts. He had so much admiration for you. He was about to make up an excuse to leave and let you get some rest but you beat him to it. “Hows your mum doing with all of this?” You asked, shutting the door behind him. You wanted him to stay? He thought, as he followed you into the kitchen where you poured both him and yourself a glass of whiskey before leaning back against the counter. The room was dim lit, illuminated only by the warm lamplight pouring in from the living room. “She’s a little shaken up but she’s doing okay.”He explained and you nodded in understanding. “He was the love of her life.” He added and you remembered watching the two of them as a kid and thinking how much you would like to grow up to have a love like theirs.  

“And you?” you asked. A long pause fell over the two of you as he contemplated the question. It was filled only by the soft crackle from the radio you had switched on the moment you got in the door to drown out the overwhelming silence of your empty apartment. 

“Leah and I got divorced.” He said through a clearing of his throat, arms folded over his chest as he leaned back against the island across from you. It wasn’t the answer you were expecting and judging by the look on his face after he said it, neither was he. You recalled his mum telling you that when you had gone over for dinner with your parents a couple years ago. You wondered why he wasn’t the one to tell you. You may not have heard from him for a while before hand but you always expected that he would be able to talk to you about things like that. Of course you’d seen him around since. Family events and what not. The two of you could never seem to avoid each other for too long even if you were trying. He was at your sister’s wedding the year before last but you had been so busy trying to keep everything on the rails and the stress away from her that you hardly got more than a side hug and a rushed “How are you?” “I’m good.” Out of him. You would be lying if you said it hadn’t stung a little.

“Yeah, I heard about that...” You replied. This time you were the one who was suddenly interested in studying the floor. 

“Then I got engaged again.” He said and your eyebrows shot up in surprise. That message clearly hadn’t made it through the grapevine. You had to gulp back the urge to blurt out “Again?” but he was already snuffing out his statement. “She uh… well that didn’t work out either.” He said with a shake of his head. You could tell the wounds were still fresh from the way he was wringing his hands out. 

“Jesus, Marcus.” You sigh, something between a compassionate and pitying smile taking over your face. It was a look he had grown to recognize on people’s faces ever since the failure of his first marriage. Now with his second relationship disaster and his dad dying it seemed to be the only way anyone ever looked at him anymore. “When are we gonna find you a girl who sticks around long enough to see how perfect you are?” You ask, knocking your foot lightly against his in a gesture he didn’t think you recognized the reassurance of. After all this time, after all the things that had happened it felt like you two were falling right back into the same dynamic you had always known from one another.

The song on the radio changed over to Roberta Flack’s version of “Bridge Over Troubled Water” and Marcus huffed. A soft smirk rose on his lips. “You still listen to this station?” He asked, remembering quite clearly that time you told him that you liked how informative the hosts were and that the songs they played always reminded you of when he used to play jazz. You nodded, giving him a slightly curious look when he stepped a little closer to you, taking the drink from your hand and setting them both on the counter behind you. His hands found your own and his fingers intertwined with yours as he pulled you into the clearing in the kitchen, placing your hands on his shoulders and his own on your waist. 

“Remember prom?” You chuckled now at the familiarity of the situation as you fell into the same slightly awkward slow sway. 

“You mean that asshole who dumped you mid dance? No, not at all.” Marcus added sarcastically and you laughed. Marcus had come to your rescue when your own date had run off with the girl he had had a crush on. 

“Okay, it was actually kind of sweet. He only asked me because he thought he couldn’t get her.” You argued, knocking into his chest with a soft thud. 

“Yeah, that’s called being an asshole!” He exclaimed. This was most certainly not the first time you’d had this conversation. “You know I will never understand your unwavering ability to see the good in people.” He said with a slight shake of his head. “That guy didn’t know what he was missing.” He concluded and the sincerity in the look he gave you made you blink back the encroaching sting of tears. Needless to say Marcus’s own date (and later, wife), Leah, was less than enthralled when he excused himself to go and cheer you up. He got quite the earful afterwords.

“Hey, where’s James?” He asked now, head shooting up and his body going slightly ridged at the thought of how much trouble he’d gotten into. Jamie had been your boyfriend of five years. Marcus had never taken to calling him that though. You lived together before the two of you had broken up over what he referred to as “unsurmountable differences”.

“He’s not in the picture anymore.” You said simply and he chose not to press anymore than that. His arms tightening around your waist a little more as his chin came to rest on top of your head and your so called dancing turned into more of a prolonged swaying hug that neither of you quite had the guts to call out.

“What did you mean?” You whispered into his chest after a while, not fully intending for him to hear you. But when he pulled his head back and gave you a curious look you knew you had to explain yourself.

“Just before your wedding ceremony.” You clarified. That must have been the last time you spoke this openly with one another. After that you just drifted apart. Things- people got in the way. “I asked you if you were nervous and you said you were terrified but not for the reason I thought you were.” You prompted him. You knew he remembered. You could recall so clearly that look in his eyes like there was something he wanted to tell you before his brother burst in saying they needed him. That way he stuttered through his vows and the look he gave you when you went to give him a nod of encouragement seemed to be burned into your memory. It wasn’t entirely unlike the look he was giving you now, lips parted and eyes pleading as he sucked in a shaky breath.

“Everyone said I was too young.” He said. “Turns out they were right.” He chuckled bitterly, a twinge of regret being swept up from where he had locked it away long ago. “But I wasn’t scared of married life. I knew I wanted to settle down.” He explained. You knew this well about him already. He was all about that white picket fence and golden retriever running around the front lawn. “With Leah we were getting so serious it seemed like the obvious next step- God I was so stupid.” He interrupted himself and you squeezed his hand gently as you waited for him to recollect his thoughts. “I thought marriage was the answer. That it would make it go away-” 

When your brows furrowed in confusion Marcus paused, suddenly feeling he had revealed too much. He hoped you had missed it, that he could brush it under the rug like he hadn’t said it all but when you asked “Make what go away?” with a hint of concern dawned on your face, he sighed.

“You really don’t know do you?” He asked, the gentle sway the two of you had found suddenly falling short as he steadied your hips.

“Know what?” You asked, the oblivious look on your face completely irresistible to him as he slid his hands down your arms to lock in your own. 

“It should have been you standing at that alter with me.” He said and a look of utter confusion crossed your face.

“I was…” You said, eyes narrowing at him as you wondered how after all that fuss Leah had made he could forget that you were his best “man”.

“On the other side of me.” He corrected you. Your mouth fell into a disbelieving ‘O’ as it finally dawned on you what he had meant. With the look on your face Marcus was just getting ready to backpedal himself out of his abrupt confession when you reached a hand up to place on his face. Your fingers tangled in the hairs at the nape of his neck as you brushed your thumb over his cheekbone lightly, drawing out the anticipation as you brought your lips to his own in a teary eyed kiss you were pretty sure had been in the making since the two of you could talk. Everything about it felt so natural as he wrapped an arm around your waist, his fingers pressing into the flesh of your lower back, pulling you into him as though he couldn’t stand an inch of distance between you after the years you had wasted apart. You swore you were built to fit into his embrace as your lips danced over one another. When you finally pulled apart to breathe, his own eyes had gained a glossy film as he pressed his forehead against yours. You managed to catch a “You feel the same way?” through his breathlessness.

“Its always been you, Marcus.” You hummed back, your fingertips dragging up and down the back of his neck lightly and sending a welcomed shiver down his spine.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” He asked, the his thumb coming to brush the edge of your jawline gently.

“Because I was the girl who ran half naked through your sprinkler when I was three years old! I didn’t think you looked at me that way!” You exclaimed and he threw his head back with laughter.

“And I was the kid who threw up at your dining room table because I ate my dessert too fast. I don’t think I’m allowed to throw stones here.” He chuckled softly as his laughter died down and he brought his lips to meet yours again. A soft and delicate kiss before you pulled him back into a hug like the ones you had been sharing all your life.

“I’m sorry about your dad.” You murmured to him finally, knowing thats why he was here. Why he was standing in your kitchen at ten at night in his funeral suit, looking for something that felt like home.

“Me too.” He mumbled back. “He always said you were good for me... I think I know what he meant now.”

Masterlist

Taglist:

@ezraslittleblondestreak @agirllovespasta @engineeredfiction @pedropascalito @dreamgirl-67 @wickedfrsgrl @hillarymurray4 @din-damn-djarin @yespolkadotkitty @chaotic-noceur​

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike #pedro pascal #fanfiction #oneshot #10 ply super soft fluff

[artificialqueens]

Ruinenlust, 1/2 (Max/Violet) - Puppy

A/N: Oh, wow it’s been a while since I posted. It’s good to be back. First of all, I’d like to thank @artificialpuddle for beta'ing; your comments are much appreciated. Second of all, I hope you enjoy this.

AO3 Link

Summary:

Ruinenlust - German. To take pleasure in ruin.

A few weeks after the events of “Peripeteia”, Violet and Max try again at another escapade with a little more preparation this time.

“If only you knew what you looked like right now…” The mistress smirked, putting one of her vinyl-booted feet on her kneeling, blindfolded submissive’s shoulder. The other was placed between her submissive’s feet, the top of the boot growing slick with arousal. The room was nearly quiet, only the sounds of heavy breathing filled the silence.  

Laura kept as still as possible; her mind focused on keeping still, not letting any more of her neediness show. The ambiance alone could push her past her limits; the combination of the slow, sensual music and the nearly degrading naughts being directed towards her nearly made her burst. If only she could get some more friction against her goddess’s boot. She only stopped as she felt her love’s breath go hot against her.

Her Goddess, her Mistress, her Everything leaned towards her, bit a hickey into her neck and then whispered into her ear,

“Max, did you get in my smut stash?”

The grey haired girl, startled by the shift in volume, quickly clapped the paperback shut as she nearly fell out of the loveseat. A copy of  Tainted by the Chains of Love ended up at the shorter girl’s feet. It was originally found in a thrift store as something to fill the bottom shelf of Violet’s pin-up magazines and other pulp novels.

She could have lightened the conversation, but they both knew she was never one to sugar coat things. There was no use lying to her either, especially over something so trivial as a book. “Do forgive me. I was under the impression the bookshelves were communal?”

“You’re good. Just tell me before you’re gonna borrow anything from that shelf, kay? I was worried I lost it.” Violet bent over and picked up the novel, recognizing the bookmarked page. “Oh, you’re at a  spicy part too.”

Max’s lips pursed into an awkward smile as her girlfriend further through the pages. She half expected her to read an excerpt aloud. “That is… definitely a word I would use to describe it.”

“Didn’t realize you were into this dime store stuff. I figured this was too  raunchy and  dirty for your tastes.” She scrunched her nose in fake disgust.  

Max didn’t respond as she slumped back onto the loveseat. “I… I figured I’d try something different?”

“And that’s completely valid. I guess I should ask what you think of it so far.” Violet stared into her girlfriend’s eyes that waited for a response. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, baby.”

“Well… um…” Max flexed her finger repeatedly, as if she was reaching for the right thing to say. This type of literature wasn’t in her radar; hence it was harder for her to review. Most of the time she veered away from  those types of books, but there was something about this one that made her want to keep reading. Was it the fact that the woman she loved so dearly had read it?

Nevertheless, she decided to humor her and still give her opinions. “I think it’s good so far…”

“Maxie, you’re a good chunk into it. Surely you have more to say… About the plot, how much of that there is.” She slightly raised the pitch of her voice, clearly getting some satisfaction from the secondhand embarrassment.

Max nodded her head, swimming through her thoughts to find coherent sentences, as she straightened her posture. “The writer seems to definitely know what they are talking about. The dynamic between Laura and Rachel isn’t just a thinly-veiled excuse for abuse, unlike some novels I can name. There is open communication and safe words and Rachel listens when her sub says no or when she wants to stop and… Yes, I know it’s basic human decency, but it’s just so…” She squealed with excitement. “And the dynamic… it’s just perfect and-”

“By god, you’re a nerd.” Violet couldn’t help but let out a laugh. There wasn’t a response this time. “Is something the matter, booboo? I’d normally get, like, a slap on the wrist for that.” There was still no answer. “Come on, I don’t hate it as much as I used to. I’m a masochist now, remember?” She shimmied closer towards Max, the pink silk from her robe brushing against her love’s skin and her breasts nearly at eye level.  

She sighed, holding her head in her hands. The embarrassment crept from her face into every fiber of her being. The reminder of the last time they did something of this sort, plus Violet’s remark about her infodumping, rubbed her slightly the wrong way. “Yes. About that. I’ve still been thinking about the other week, and-”

“While we’re on the subject of that, I’m still surprised at how well you did for your first time domming. I’ve been thinking, and-”

“Do you want me to do it again?”

“No.”

“If I was that bad, you can just tell me. Honesty and all…”

“Far from it. You were great!” Violet complimented earnestly, or as earnestly as she would allow herself to get. Apologizing, nor vulnerability for that manner, was never really her strongest suit; it was still too early in the relationship for that sort of thing. “I want to thank you for that… I’m sorry if that whole experience made you uncomfy and… I want to make it up to you.”

“Really?” The silver-haired girl blinked at her girlfriend, staring as if she had grown an extra head. Was she being serious? After all of the things she had said and done, Violet was still proud of her. “But… I hurt you!”

“But you didn’t harm me, and that’s what mattered. Also wasn’t topping that one time your idea? All because of those goddamn cat ears.” She chuckled, thinking about the situation in hindsight.

“And I kept spritzing you with that bottle,” She ignored the compliment and got slightly more defensive.“that must’ve been annoying.”

“Isn’t that the point? What matters is I liked it, you hear me? You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for. Now shut up and let me return the favor, okay?”

Max nodded her head, suddenly growing timid at her girlfriend’s demeanor. “What is it you want to do?”

Violet’s face grew a mischievous smirk; she’d been planning her strategy the moment she saw Max reading on the loveseat. She leaned into her girlfriend’s ear and whispered, “How about we recreate one of those scenes from this book? Would you like me to ruin you, Miss Maxine.  I bet you’ve wanted to be in Laura’s position from the moment you picked up that.”

“Yes…” Max blushed even more scarlet. She stopped herself as the logical and modest parts of her brain took over. “No, wait… shouldn’t we go over safe words and limits first?”

“We’ll get to that! I just wanna confirm if that sounds like a good idea. Granted it’s one of mine, so it’s good by default.”

“Violet!” Her lover chastised.

“Okay, I deserved that. Do you want me to do those things to you? We don’t have to do it exactly by the book.” Max nodded her head. “Perfect, let’s get playing! But first, have you eaten anything today?”

There was silence.

Violet sighed as she cupped her girlfriend’s face. “Max. My darling. Love of my life and-”  

“I’ll be fine…” Max interrupted, slightly whining as she slowly got out of the loveseat. “Please don’t worry about me. Besides, I’m not hungry.” She lied through her teeth.

It was still quite early in the afternoon and she had been too engrossed in the literature to think about bare necessities. At least she remembered to shower; that’s always a good start.

“For all the times you fuss at me about not eating, you should take better care of yourself. I don’t want you passing out.” Violet pulled Max close, then sat her down at the kitchen table. “I’ll fix something real quick and then we’ll get to it. I promise.”

The two further negotiated as they had their meal. They set limits and safe words, and it seemed as if nothing had changed since last time. Max was a little unsure about hickeys since she had a presentation the next day, but Violet calmed her down. When in doubt, there were always clean turtlenecks on standby.

“Now, last thing. Do you want me to be kind or cruel?”

Max took a bite of her salad and contemplated, as if her partner had asked a trick question. One could easily be disguised as the other given certain circumstances. “Kind,” she swallowed, unsure of her answer. “But also cruel. Possibly both? I’m sorry; I still don’t understand.”

“Let me rephrase that. How far do you want me to go? I mean, there’s a big difference between calling you a cumslut and calling you stupid.” The black-haired woman clarified, drumming her fingers on the table as she waited for an answer.

It wasn’t hard to tease Max; there were many things about her that were practically a bullseye for bullying. She was the kind of girl who would take too long to get ready, yet look like she barely had any makeup on. The kind who’d talk during a movie she’d seen ten times before just to spout trivia, quietly going on until shushed. She was practically a grandmother when it came to social media and she was just so… rigid out in public. It was too easy to make fun of the things bullies had told Max for years (her hair, her height, and the way she spoke to name a few), plus it was wrong.  

Yes, Violet was a bitch, but she still had standards.

“As far as you want.” Max continued, starting to protest yet not sure of what. “I swear… I can take it.” A hush fell over the kitchen. “I’ll safeword when I feel uncomfortable. I promise.”

Violet swallowed a mouthful of spinach and sighed, “I know you will. I trust you, but will you remember when the time comes?” A hush fell over the kitchen. “It’s just- in the past it was hard for you to come out of your subspace and I don’t wanna make you cry. Well, at least in a bad way. We should have discussed this earlier, but I got distracted by other things and-”

“Now look who’s being fussy.” The grey-haired lady teased as she finished up the rest of her meal. With a small grunt of protest from her partner, she continued. “Well… calling me stupid or worthless is a hard no, and other things in that vein. Nothing negative about my body. And… I think that’s it.”

“Perfect.” Violet shot up and took her and Max’s bowls. “I’ve got to get ready, but remember. As soon as I see you next, your ass is mine. Give me about thirty-ish minutes and I’ll be ready for you. I have some research to do.” She strode towards the door, flipping through the pulp novel’s pages for emphasis.

“Sounds good to me, darling.”

“Then it’s a date!” As she pulled herself into the bedroom, the newly appointed mistress quickly stuck out her head and winked before closing the door.

Max could only imagine the preparations at hand.

#rpdr fanfiction #violet chachki #max malanaphy #violax #lesbian au #s7 #fluff #ruinenlust #puppy #tw kink #kink negotiation

[tonyglowheart]

Trying to semi-organize my thoughts on what exactly I am wanting out of spn fic and hm let's see. If I remember this post in the future, I may update it as I think of/on things and use this for reference so I, also, don't forget lol

Okay so, wants/likes:

Cas prominent. He is my, as I believe the kpop kids say, bias, so he is kind of non-negotiable. Sorry I am just not interested in fics where he is not prominent

Destiel not required but a good plus. Slight preference for intricate courtship rituals over ones where they figure things out ridiculously easy, unless it is established relationship. If the revelation comes too quick and easy then I get taken out of the moment :')

Optional: Angels treating Cas like their baby brother :3 Cas can be somewhat put out by it or not. Actually maybe bonus if he IS, bc they are all angels of the lord and relative by rank and experience, And Yet [whoever] just cannot help but be *points* Baby

canonverse is plus. canon divergence is okay but idk how close to canon I'm looking for, if it's too close to an episode rewrite I may not be into that either

casefics are cool. If it's got that canon-typical vaguely racist sht then pls warn me going in 😔

Found family. Family don't end in blood!!! Spn may forget this but I never will!!!

Any exploration of the whole fucky destiel thematic dichotomies, the whole free will vs destiny shit, stuff like words of prophets are written on subway walls, like.. idk, something that is intricate-rituals-gay and also makes me think of the philosophy of thehuman condition

corollary: slow burns ig?? or like mutual pining? canon typical thinking they are not worthy or that it is something they cannot have? canon typical did not realize until later but even then they have their individual canon-typical reasons for not acting on it, until they do bc it's fic so they can get together for realsies?

trope: Cas and/or Destiel being parents. I read one recently where it was like single dad Cas (to Claire and Jack) and then Dean came (back) into his life recently and I rly liked it

AUs are fine but highly subject to mood so we'll see. I did read a Star Trek-y AU I liked

I'm down for a lot of various other kinds of plot tropes and stuff, tho I want stuff that's more character and plot and less, like, pwp or fuck or die or that kinda thing

trope: curses maybe? I've found a couple curse-focused fics which were interesting

trope: Hurt/Comfort of the Cas whump kind but not necessarily have to be just Cas. But like.. u know when Uriel is beating him up and he looks all bloody and beautiful, or when he flexes his sexy angel powers and transports the Winchesters to the past but then collapses bc he overtaxed himself, or when he had that blanket on when he was suffering from the attack dog spell.... yeah,,,

trope: Anything with like the Winchesters caring about and caring for Cas. I just rly like Cas being taken care of :') pls wrap him in a blanket and pat his shoulder brusque-softly in ur emotionally repressed way Dean

bottom line my emphasis tends to be more on character and plot. I can't do plot without character, the relationships - whether ship or gen - are important to my enjoyment of a fic. I can sit thru a lot if the characters/character dynamics are good and chewy lmao like u can rly sink ur teeth into it

Bonus features:

eldritch horror angels are a bonus. Give me unfathomable trueform angels, I feel like I don't see that enough

wings* but.... caveat I like my spn wings more metaphysical than literal unless they're literal for a point, but this isn't set in stone either. I'm just... slightly tired of the physicality of the wings I guess. Like it's not the physicality that's the issue, ig, but when it's not treated as metaphysical (as well)

wouldn't mind some good endverse fics to chew on altho that might also make me sad

Cas being cute, a la crazy!Cas (who is.... so soft.... his innocence.. *clutches chest*) or like when Cas and Dean went to talk to that police guy and Cas was like you tell them it's angels and demons warring and he will tell you what he knows, or when Cas was like I'm gonna become a hunter :3, or interrogating the cat, or this is his serious face, yes

Powerful af Cas?? I miss season 4/5 Cas, when he was powerful and self-assured and wasn't "mentally deficient puppy" as Metatron meanly put it Cas. I feel like we get less of that as the seasons go on... I miss Cas being powerful and exuding energy that I'm sure is what had ppl assigning him as top energy. Like yes flex ur sexy sexy angel powers pls. There's one ep where my notes just say "ANGEL SMITE ANGEL SMITE / HEAAALING." Season 6 Cas where he is more out of touch with humanity and more brusque was also intriguing even tho he was like that bc of extenuating circumstances. But him flexing his sexy angel powers sure was sexy

Do not wants :(

Endgame human!Cas. Sorry I like short-lived Cassidy am more into feathered Cas than human!Cas. endgame human!Cas just isn't a good solution/happy ending to me, I don't think Cas needs to change to be able to live happily, and also I like to chew on the like philosophical underpinnings of an immortal/mortal pairing if that does get called into question lol

Human AU* but like asterisk bc I will take human AU if the plot is compelling and/or the characterization still manages to capture that je nais se quoi of canonverse. If they are, like, middle age dads being domestic, as an example, tho, then I can probs do that, I just like.. have limited capacity for career-based AUs for the sake of it, if that makes sense... But character/character dynamics trumps all, like I said lmao.. I've sat thru scenarios/setups that lowkey dealt me psychic damage bc of the nature of the set dressing, bc I checked it out out of morbid curiosity but the way they did the characterization ended up working for me

A/B/O - I am not seeking A/B/O at the moment

Hurt no Comfort - it would make me too sad :(

fics that treat angels like literal physical feathered beings. Idk I just like... want the whole angel thing to be treated more metaphysically. They are multidimensional wavelengths of celestial intent in holy corporate/business attire visages but they are still very much multidimensional wavelengths of celestial intent the ballpark size of our Chrysler building. If the wings are treated too literally I find I start getting bored, ironically. This is ironic bc I'm a slut for wingfic. But with spn I find that a conventional kind of wingfic/angel conception where the wings are just limbs with maybe some slight handwaved dimension-shifting stowing is.. slightly passe for my tastes. Unless it's like a forced manifestation or sth. Just like.. get the metaphysics involved, tie it to angelic grace. Something. Make is racy. But not too racy, the whole wings-as-erogenous-zones thing I'm a bit over too, xenobiology to humans would just be biology to these beings, it doesn't make sense to me to be like "oh they have a tail and it's EXTRA sensitive," like are you suggesting your arm/armpit is an extra special species-typical erogenous zone too?

deaging unless it ties to some other kinda plotty deal somehow ig? Like... I got invested in this fandom for them as they are now I'm not too interesting in unseasoned nibling vers

this maybe goes with the human aus tho that's a slight asterisk but hard line no high school aus. pls I cannot take the psychic damage that would deal to me personal

I have no conclusion even tho I feel like I need one. here's wonderwall? ig I can stumble around looking for reclists and see if anything sticks out, trawling thru tags so far has been a mixed bag

Anyway haha lol, stand-up-style-tone I mean I'm not asking for a lot amirite. Just a nebulously specific set of intricate rituals wrapped around a plot and also found family or something, like you know, just a trifling

#supernatural cw #I had a tag for things like this before maybe #idk what #personal reference #hope I remember that in the future lmao... #long post