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pimosworld · 3 months

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Pairing-Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary- Joel’s a grump when it’s hot and also when he gets jealous.

CW- 18+, No outbreak au, established relationship, mostly fluff, grumpy Joel, reader is not described, possessive Joel, family dynamics, illusions to smut, joel is down bad for reader.

WC-1.9k

A/N- I can’t wait for summer so I wrote this little snippet into the life of the Joel I think about often. May do a spicy part two if the mood strikes me.

[Main Masterlist][Joel Miller Masterlist]

Not beta read

Dog Days

He told you he’d behave. Begrudgingly and with promise that you’d make it up to him. That’s the only thought he clings to as he sits in this lawn chair that’s too small for him. The only seat away from everyone else so he doesn’t have to do the small talk thing. He can still see you though. Sun kissed and smiling at something Maria is saying.

He still doesn’t know how you do it, how you make it look so effortless even on the hottest day of the year. His shirt clings to him and he’s sweating in places he wouldn’t speak of out loud and you just stand there all heaven sent like it’s a different temperature in your world.

Your world bled into his before he knew what hit him. He started to enjoy sunsets and stopped to smell the flowers, because that’s what you liked to do and he quickly learned that anything that made you happy made him feel like the most fortunate man in the world. He’s fortunate to have you every morning, waking up curled into his side as you steal sleepy kisses along his chest and his arms. He pretends to be asleep for as long as he can until he’s so worked up he has to make you come at least twice before you extract yourselves from the bed.

That’s where he wants to be right now as he stares at some prehistoric bug that’s landed in his warm beer, flailing and hoping someone can put him out of his misery much like he hopes after being dragged to this godforsaken barbecue. Despite it being his own brother he would have gladly come up with any excuse not to be here. He loves his family but sometimes he couldn’t stand Tommy.

‘Who has a party on the hottest day of the year?’ You laughed earlier as he grumbled about in the kitchen helping you pack away the things you prepared in the cooler.

‘He can’t control the weather Joel. You know he’s excited about the new house.”You with your rational thought and kind heart.

‘Who’s side are you on Darlin?’ He caged you in against the counter as he ran his hands up your thighs. You shiver under his touch and he knows it wouldn’t take much to convince you to stay home.

Your hands meet his as you pull them up higher, bunching your dress a little to reveal those cheeky shorts he couldn’t get enough of. You wrap his hands around your waist as you run yours up his arms and around his neck. His chocolate brown eyes are glazed over as you slowly put him under some trance. Your lips kiss that spot in his beard as your nails scratch at his scalp and he has to brace himself against the counter to keep himself grounded. ‘I’m always on your side Miller.’

“What’s up with you brother?” Tommy slaps his back bringing him back to this fresh hell. A man can’t even day dream in peace.

“It’s hot.” He grumbles and goes to take a sip of his beer before he remembers and chucks it out on the grass.

Tommy licks his lips as a smirk pulls across his face, no doubt thinking of something to say that will have Joel flying off the handle. His niece is running towards them with the same look on her face to save him from his impending death. Wild black curls bouncing in her face to match her parents.

Tommy holds his arms out for his daughter but she crashes her small body into Joel as the weight of her hit causes a small creak in the lawn chair. A muffled hi uncle Joel is said into his shirt as Tommy stands there defeated. “You stayin out of trouble?”

She just shrugs her shoulders and offers her hand out to him. An ice cold Diet Coke she’s barely able to get her little hands around. A mystery smudge is on her shirt and her pants have seen better days. Tommy wanted a boy but he was pleasantly surprised when her little personality started to take hold and he quickly realized he had his hands full with this one. Her two front teeth are missing and the smile etched across her face is a mischievous one. “Thanks sweetheart.” Joel takes it from her, it’s still cold despite having traversed the lawn and been subjected to the warmth of her hands. He’ll wait a moment to open it, no doubt jostled as she ran over here.

“My mommy said you look hotter than h e double hockey sticks.”

“Izzy!” Tommy snaps at her and Joel can’t help the laugh that bubbles up.

“What…I spelled it. I didn’t say Hell.” She rolls her neck and he swears he can see Maria in that moment.

“Isabella.” Tommy’s voice drops an octave in warning as she backs away slowly with her hands raised.

She reminds him so much of Tommy when he was younger. It’s only fair that he gets a taste of his own medicine. When Joel met you the decision had already been made that you didn’t want kids and Sarah was almost in college and Joel didn’t want to start over. It was a relief to find someone that could love his child so fiercely despite it not being their own. Izzy came barreling into their lives shortly after Sarah left and you loved that little bundle of joy like it was the last thing on earth.

There’s little hints of you in her sprinkled throughout your time together. Her insistence on correcting people and their grammar, the way she defends others although you told her she should try to use her words more after she punched some kid on the playground for bullying a smaller kid. Joel may have had a hand in that one.

Joel cracks the can as Tommy drones on about repairs that need to be done to the house. He already knows what his brothers’ getting at and he doesn’t even need to ask…of course he’s going to help him take on whatever project needs to be done to get the house in order for the new baby. He knew Tommy was nervous before Izzy arrived and this brings on a whole new level of responsibility. They were so grateful they’d found a house down the street from you and Joel with just two months to spare before this new bundle arrived.

He takes a sip of the bubbly cold drink, the sweetness is slightly off. You swore he wouldn’t be able to tell but of course he can. His doctor told him to cool it on the sodas and he made the mistake of telling you. You care so much…too much. You called his brother and Maria and now they’re watching him like a hawk so he has to sneak the ones with real sugar like a junky getting his fix.

In the brief moments he’d been graced by Tommy’s presence he lost sight of you. His eyes scan the large backyard, the kids playing in some dirt mound, some guys from the job site ribbing each other by the grill. You and Maria are by the cooler with some mystery man while you rub her swollen belly. His eyes roam down your body as you bend over to lay a kiss to it and whisper sweet words to your soon to be niece or nephew.

You stand and try to adjust the strap on that dress he loves so much. You’re always complaining about how the straps never stay up and he supposes you keep it just for him. He’ll have to remember to burn it when you get home as he grits his teeth and watches the man get an obvious look down the front of your dress.

“Who’s that?” Joel juts his chin toward the end of the yard as Tommy squints his eyes.

“Don’t.”

“I just asked his goddamn name Tommy.” He huffs at his brother and he just shakes his head. The heat was already getting to him before and now it’s at a fever pitch.

“His name is James, we just hired him.” Tommy holds his arms out in a mock satisfaction and Joel’s not in the mood for his theatrics.

“We? Hired him.” Joel shifts and he hears the chair creak again. He stands up abruptly not wanting to be flat on his ass because of his brother's crappy lawn furniture.

“Yes Joel…remember you put me in charge of staffing the site?”

Joel just hums under his breath as he crosses his arms over his chest. He’ll have to remember to start vetting the candidates again if this is the type of people Tommy’s got working for them.

The man is crossing the lawn towards them with a presidential smile and Joel’s already pissed. He greets Tommy and offers his hand to Joel as he begins to introduce himself.

“James is it?” Joel squeezes the man's hand a little too tight as he winces. Tommy retreats not wanting to be a witness to whatever Joel was going to say or do. At this point he knew there was no stopping him.

“Mr. Miller, it’s nice to meet you.” He doubts that and he can tell by the look on his face that he’s already sorely regretting walking over here.

“You don’t really have an eye for jewelry do ya?” Joel cocks his head waiting for an answer, an easy trap to set for a simpleton like James. There’s no right answer. Not when he’s got his teeth sunk into him. “See I noticed almost immediately that there’s a ring on your finger.” He gestures to the man’s hand and holds up his own. “You didn’t seem to notice my wife’s hand when you were eye fuckin the shit out of her.”

“Hi Honey.” Your sweet voice hits his ears as your hand travels up his arm, working your way behind his neck to rub that spot that seems to always make him deflate.

James uses this momentary distraction to run away with his tail tucked.

“You behavin?” You purr at him as he drops his head down to let you run your fingers through his hair.

“Always sugar.” His words slurred a little as he succumbed to your touch. You’re like a sedative the way you seep into his veins and put him in a trance like state.

He can’t see your eyebrows raised at him as you scan the backyard for the offending party. “Come on Miller, let’s get you home and cool you off before someone gets fired.”

He starts to speak but you shush him with your finger placed gently on his mouth. A quick glance over your shoulder and you lean up kissing him deep. It almost takes him by surprise how you still have this effect on him. No longer concerned with the heat or the stress at work or his brother’s constant annoyance. You can silence all those thoughts with just a taste of your lips. You break away when you hear the whoops coming from Tommy and Joel grumbles under his breath.

The strap on your shoulder slides down and you sigh a little as Joel runs his finger underneath, feeling your smooth skin turn to goosebumps. It’s intoxicating the way he knows he has that same effect on you. He’s smirking to himself as he reaches behind you and adjusts the strap, getting a glimpse down the front and the soft swell of your breast.

“Looks like you and James have something in common.” You laugh as he scowls at you, the kind of laugh that has tears at the corner of your eyes.

“Don’t push it darlin.”

Comments and and reblogs are much appreciated

#joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #tlou imagine #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #joelmiller #pedro pascal characters #joel miller au #joel miller x female reader

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queenofbaws · 2 years

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"we have to sleep on the forest ground, so everything can be the bed, but we still sleep close, because we feel too exposed" prompt for Jossam because I have such a soft spot for them

I hope you're doing good!!

definitely more than six sentence sat(or)sunday!!!

“I’m gonna put my cards on the table here, Sammy. When you sold this to me as ‘a night under the stars,’ I have to admit I was expecting something a little, uh…well…”

It wasn’t like Josh to be at a loss for words, so after Sam gave the blanket a shake or two to get it laid out flat on the ground and he still hadn’t finished his sentence, she turned over her shoulder to see what the holdup was. As far as she could tell, it was a twig. Just the one.

“…something a little…?” she prompted, already starting to grin as she slid her backpack off her shoulders and let it plunk onto the blanket. “What, Josh? Something a little more what? If you don’t want to say it, you could at least give me the benefit of charades, y’know.”

He took her up on the offer with a wry smirk of his own, turning to mime a wall and a sloping ceiling over the blanket. “A tent, Samantha. I was imagining there’d be a fucking tent.”

She waited until his miming brought him to where she was standing, and before he could establish where the imaginary tent flaps would’ve been, she pressed a patronizing kiss to the tip of his nose and went the way of her bag, flopping down onto the blanket herself. “Then it wouldn’t be under the stars. It’d be under a tent.”

“Semantics. You roped me out here using semantics.” He cast an exasperated look down at her…and then begrudgingly hunkered down as well. Josh seemed in no great hurry to sprawl out like she had, though – no, nonono, he sat on his knees as though the grass beneath the blanket was simply waiting for him to drop his guard enough to swallow him whole. For a guy who happily climbed through hidden crawlspaces and cobwebby basements for the sake of that good ol’ horror aesthetic, he sure seemed apprehensive about a little fresh air.

“I learned it from watching you,” she beamed, only to snicker when his entire face gave way, doubt melting into suspicion, then understanding, then, finally, acceptance. “Uh huh. See? You’re rubbing off on me.”

“Using my own powers of omission and careful word-choice against me…” Josh shook his head but still didn’t make himself any more comfortable, reaching over to poke at her side. “The gift of gab shouldn’t be used for evil, Giddings.”

She jokingly batted his hand away, and when he simply went to poke her again (as she knew he would), Sam grabbed his wrist and yanked him down flat beside her, throwing one of her legs up and hitching it over his waist to pin him flat. “Mhm,” she beamed as she set her chin against his shoulder. “It shouldn’t. But again, I learned it from watching you. So really, if anyone here’s to blame…it isn’t me.”

“Oh no?”

“Nooope.”

He heaved a sigh a little too dramatic to be fake and set one of his hands up on Sam’s thigh, the other resting behind his head like a pillow. “You’re really fucking with the dynamic here, y’know. I’m supposed to be the evil mastermind in this relationship. Scheming is what I bring to the table – what you’re supposed to bring to the table is like, flax seed muffins and life lessons about the benefits of treating other human beings with respect. If you start being the underhanded wheeler-and-dealer, Sammy, then where does that leave me, huh? What will I have to adapt to become? I can’t spew out morals like you do, I hate other human beings.”

She rolled her eyes over to his, raising her eyebrows as high as they’d go. “Not the flax seed muffins?”

“Eh, those’re growing on me,” he admitted with a sly smile.

“Knew it. Knew it.” Laughing, she shut her eyes and let out a deep breath, the exertion of the hike drifting away as she listened to the chirrup of crickets all around them. Beside her, Josh’s whole body was stiff as a board, so she took it upon herself to poke his side that time around. “We’re in the middle of a camping area, you putz. Safest place in the world. Nothing bad’s gonna happen! Just shut your eyes, loosen up, and let Mother Nature sing you to sleep.”

“Mother Nature’s coming up a little flat on this tune, if you ask me.”

If her eyes had been open, she would’ve rolled them again. Since they weren’t, she just laughed instead, snuggling closer to him. “Mk, how about this then,” Sam offered, her voice muffled against the fabric of his sleeve. “You can curl up into an itty-bitty little ball, and I’ll be the big spoon for once. I promise I’ll keep those mean old ladybugs off of you while you sleep.”

At that, Josh snickered, but unless she was mistaken…Sam thought she might’ve actually heard some relief in it. “I mean, you can try to be the big spoon all you want, far be it from me to stop a lady from doing what she wants, but don’t you think you’re a little tiny to go tusslin’ with ladybugs, Sam?”

Without opening her eyes, she crept the fingers of her hand up his arm like spiders’ legs, and the noise he let out made the whole hike worth it.

#riverrunscold #six sentence weekend #queenie writes supermassive #jossam #aw ty! im hangin in there - i hope youre doing well too!!! ^_^

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heliossecretdeskdrawer · 2 years

Text

A Touching Moment

For @realitysperception and Spector_Author (on AO3) Thank you for your patience.

Continuity: IDW1

Rating: Mature

Relationship: Ratchet/Rodimus

Characters: Ratcher & Rodimus

Warnings: Referenced plug-n-play, spark sexual interfacing, very light dom/sub dynamics, established relationship, open-ended. Please see AO3 entry for full applicable tags.

Summary: In which Ratchet decides Rodimus's jokes are terrible pickup lines.

Crossposting: AO3 | DreamWidth | Pillowfort

Fic under cut

“Rodimus, I really don’t think this is the best way to go about it.”

Ratchet tried to ignore the cold air of Rodimus’s otherwise comfortable captain’s quarters lingering on his warm spark as he closed up his chest panels, latching the windshield back into place over them as soon as Rodimus pulled his fingers free.

Blue dust, glowing brightly, still clung to the captain’s loudly yellow fingers, hanging on via electrostatic charge. That would be an absolute mess as soon as Rodimus touched anything else, promptly forgetting about the sparkdust he would be smearing on everything.

The mood to interface was rapidly disappearing, despite the eager massage that he had just been in the middle of receiving.

At least the couch he was sitting on what comfortable. It was a miracle it hadn’t been trashed at some point in one of Rodimus’s fits of pique, not that he had as many of those these days. Or perhaps the current sofa was a replacement for another, less fortunate model. Who could say.

Early on in their intimate relationship, which began as an attempt to fill their respective yawning voids when Drift was exiled, Ratchet had decided it wasn’t in their best interests to live together. Rodimus as a roommate would drive him first completely up the wall and then right into the morgue.

Living apart as not quite amica—they were still feeling that out—was fine and suited them both. Rodimus could make a mess and have his own private space and Ratchet could retreat to solitude when he needed it. He also didn’t want to deal with Rodimus accidentally setting him on fire in the middle of the night if he had a bad dream during recharge.

That and Rodimus’s fireproof tarpaulins weren’t comfortable. The crinkling noise they made was torture and they felt like sleeping in plastic pallet wrap. Best to just keep their separate spaces.

“What?”

Rodimus pouted in disappointment as he stood in front of the couch, blue-coated hand held awkwardly in front of his chest.

They had only tried casual and conventional port-and-plug interfacing, restricted to shallow sensation only, up until this point, partially out of convenience. It had been long time since Ratchet’s academy days.

However, this time Ratchet had begrudgingly agreed to let Rodimus, ever afraid of anything getting too boring, attempt a few new dynamics.

They had already put up one important boundary before getting started: no spark-to-spark contact, even indirectly by transferred sparkdust. That was far too risky and intimate in a way they weren’t remotely ready for. The very thought of an accidental and irreversible bond was terrifying. They were still working to fully identify their needs. It was way too early for anything like that kind of commitment, but who knew, maybe one day they would decide otherwise.

“Do you think this is some sort of revenge for when you tried to get me to step down as captain?”

“No, it’s because your opening line was ‘This is your captain speaking.’”

Putting his hand on his chin and leaving a bright streak of blue in the process, Rodimus snickered.

“Yeah, yeah, that was a pretty good one—“

“Rodimus, focus.” Ratchet snapped his fingers in front of Rodimus’s face to reign in his wandering attention. “Listen to me: that one was terrible. It was one of the least arousing things you’ve ever said to me, and that includes the time you called my tires ‘bouncy castles.’”

“Oh, come on!” Rodimus threw his arms forward and wide, pleading as dust particles fell away in a puff. “The captain line was comedic gold! And, for the record, I was complimenting your tires.”

“No, no, it wasn’t ‘comedic gold,’” Ratchet said, holding up his own hands in a sarcastic gesture of quotation that he had accidentally picked up from Rodimus. “And I’m not going to pretend otherwise.”

“But—“

“Rodimus, please.” He sighed, dropping his palms to the couch to let them rest on the dingy upholstery. This place really needed to be vacuumed, but he knew sometimes it was difficult for Rodimus to find the wherewithal to tidy up as often as was necessary. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Don’t say—“

“I’m disappointed.”

Rodimus whined, dramatically dropping to his knees and slumping sideways onto the floor like he’d been shot in slow motion.

“Disappointed,” he echoed, face buried against the stained mesh rug on the floor.

An ugly streak of blue light was left in the wake of Rodimus’s fingers touching the ground.

This was more or less what Ratchet had expected would happen. Rodimus didn’t take either rejection or disappointment well, but this seemed a little over the top. He was probably putting on a performance to get Ratchet to walk the complaints back. If that was the case, Rodimus would probably rebound shortly with a “new, awesome idea.”

Maybe they could still get some overloads out of this encounter, but Ratchet’s interest was still flagging.

Almost as if on cue, Rodimus pulled himself upright on his knees and scooted between Ratchet’s legs. He placed his hands on the medic’s thighs, a desperate cling to his grip.

“Let me try again, docbot. Come on.” There was the second wind, as anticipated. Rodimus, his optics now wide and pleading, always did get back on his feet after falling down, both literally and figuratively. His sheer, irrepressible will to fail forward was one of his more admirable traits. “I can try again. It’ll be better. We’ll have a good time. I promise.”

Ratchet sighed once more but nodded, relenting. “Alright, but new boundary: no more bad puns or captain jokes in the berth.”

“Just to clarify—“

“Yes, the couch counts.”

Rodimus let the focal rings of his optics spiral down into narrow points as he thought before nodding.

“Cool, yeah, that’s cool.” He stuck out a hand for Ratchet to shake. The one tainted by Ratchet’s own sparkdust. “Deal.”

Oh well. It was his own. Fine.

He took the hand, shaking it before settling back against the couch again, waiting for… whatever Rodimus decided to do next.

“Just sit back; I got this.”

Rodimus finally stood, leaning over Ratchet with more of that “fake it until you make it” confidence.

He placed his palm, the blue dust having finally tracked all the way down his hand, on Ratchet’s windshield and rubbed the glass in a gentle, careful circle. The glass had minimal sensors embedded in it, just enough to know when something had come into contact with the surface, for safety reasons. Streaks of sparkdust smeared in wide swaths but at least it was his own.

Ratchet turned off his optics and relaxed under the gentle massage, letting his legs fall further open so Rodimus could stand closer.

Rodimus’s other arm, that hand still miraculously clean, came to rest against Ratchet’s shoulder, his hand lightly caressing the exposed neck cables. He bent forward and leaned his forehead against Ratchet’s.

This was fine, so far. He wasn’t running hot again, no, but the idea of interfacing no longer seemed like a massive chore that he’d simply rather not do.

“Open up for me?”

It was phrased like a question, but it wasn’t really one. Rodimus had wanted to try being “dominant” today, in addition to the manual spark stimulation, but he wasn’t… experienced in that realm. Ratchet just had no preference one way or the other, as long as it was an enjoyable time.

He was willing to let Rodimus try to order him around a little, within reason.

That was fine, especially since it meant Ratchet wouldn’t be doing as much of the work.

It wasn’t something he normally did in the course of his duties, given that as the chief medical officer, he could override almost any of the captain’s decisions if they had a bearing on the health and wellbeing of the crew.

He let the latches holding his windshield and chest panels closed click open. Rodimus gingerly pried him open, care given to each hinge’s limited range of motion.

Sparklight flooded the room again. Cold air on his spark made Ratchet shudder, but the chill was soon banished when Rodimus brought his hand to the hot surface of the crystal for a fresh coating of dust.

Fingers slid gently over the crystal, carefully exploring and touching as charge smoothly radiated away into Ratchet’s systems. Another pulse of charge washed over his circuits as he heard the soft click of a plug cover opening near his audio sensor, a sign that Rodimus was unspooling his wrist cable.

Trying again had definitely been a good idea.

#fic #one shot #valveplug #rodimus #ratchet #ratchrod

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vicennon · 1 year

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INSOMNIA

main interpretation of relationship development

Error sees through Dream’s bullshit happy Chosen One (Therapy Punching Bag) Facade and is Himself (blunt, rude, loud, abrasive, arrogant) with Dream

Dream finds this amusing

people will often clamor for his attention and validation but it feels very hollow--they sometimes clamor for him to a degree that he feels almost all his interactions are tainted by his aura and feels uncomfortable

He admires Error’s personality and how honest he can be, where Dream feels like if he ever presented his true feelings about the people around him he’d be cast from the high pedestal they put him on

Error finds him annoying sometimes but enjoys how Dream pays him attention and doesn’t interrupt him

The Stars (Blue, Ink, Dream) all have listened to Error’s rambling before, but Ink often interrupts and sometimes just straight up disappears which irritates (disappoints) Error while Blue is no longer present for his rambles

Dream is the only one who is actually actively listening to his monologues and responds to what he says with his opinion or advice

Error sometimes does take his advice and begins to value the opinion of a yellow abomination because it is always useful

Eventually, the height of the relationship dynamic culminates in two people who confide in one another and respect each other for the lives they’ve lead

They disagree heavily on several topics -- like MURDER and DESTRUCTION but Dream sometimes finds himself understanding Error (which scares him) when he comes across atrocities in the universe when people need his help

showing affection

Dream could try to work with Error about his haphephobia, but I feel like this relationship is built specifically around how Dream likes Error as he is and admires every aspect of him, which would feel strange with Dream wanting to work on his phobia

Very much, one of Error’s main fears/frustrations about Dream that arose later was that Dream would try to “fix” or “change” him

Dream does not strike me as a very touchy person except for the occasional hand-holds and close proximity, so he gets along fairly well with Error in terms of showing physical affection by just relaxing on the couch with him or sharing the room

Error does long for his touch, but that’s more of a future goal when they have established a strong and unbreakable trust where neither can be used against one another

Which is its own . writhing can of worms

Occasionally they will hold each others scarves or the hems of ones clothing in close proximity

Dream is very much “acts of service” to show love, which means a lot of “let me clean up around here” and “why is your shit not organized”

Error is particular about his organization, which does not bode well for Dream’s fussing--so Error eventually shows Dream how he organizes and why he does things in certain systems, which leads to Error begrudgingly letting Dream clean and do things the way he likes

Sometimes Error gets irritated because Dream keeps asking if there’s anything Error would like him to do, but all Error wants to do is just lay on the sofa

Eventually Dream does figure out how to get around it by investing in Error’s favorite hobbies with him and spending time doing them with him

He also talks way too much and says a lot of words about how he likes Error’s everything and randomly talks about his feelings, which Error pretends he doesn’t appreciate (but he can’t hide his emotions from Dream anyway)

#insomnia #sanscest #error/dream #dream/error #rambling #inbox #i've cut this short before i can write a 4k fanfic about them

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elixir448 · 3 years

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Do you really think they going to get rid of brio?

Sorry! Took me a minute to get to this! If it’s okay with you, I’ll answer your second question here as well:

Do you think brio fans might well forget about beth be rio being a couple because sound like bill krebs and Jenna bans is ending brio?

My straightforward answer is no, I very much doubt that the writers are going to do away with Beth and Rio as a romantic relationship on the show. I never got ending Beth and Rio vibes off of any of their recent interviews, or actually from any of the spoilers we have received so far.

For those who are interested, Jenna Bans and Bill Krebs have done a few pre-season 4 interviews:

https://tvline.com/2021/03/05/good-girls-season-4-preview-beth-rio-spoilers-interview/

https://www.distractify.com/p/who-dies-good-girls-season-4

https://ew.com/tv/good-girls-season-4-love-triangle-beth-rio/

Specifically, the interview in the EW link above has a quote from Bans:

“And it leaves Beth with a much more clear understanding of who this person is just as a human, which I think both equally softens her to him and also gives her clarity that this is someone you can't really be with romantically long-term. But it makes it all really messy and juicy. There's a lot of sexiness in there too. What's even more fun is that is happens pretty early in the season — I don't think people will have to wait very long.”

I think I’m getting sick of hearing myself say this but interviews definitely need to be taken with a grain of salt. Prior to season 2 airing, Manny said that Beth and Rio were unlikely to ever cross the line and then they banged in 2x04 so...

If we take the above quote at face value, it doesn’t change my opinion at all. To me, Beth and Rio don’t necessarily have to be in a defined relationship. In fact, I’ve never considered that a possibility for these two messes. I could absolutely see them being crime partners or bosses operating within the same region, crossing paths and banging each other but not anyone else haha.

I guess your reaction to that quote is dependent upon what you consider the term couple to mean, in the context of a TV series and for this particular pairing. If, to you, that means Beth and Rio in an established relationship, you may be disappointed. But if you broaden the definition and include unlabelled relationships, partnerships, a mutual understanding, longing with the occasional lapse of judgement and falling into bed together, etc, that might be what we get.

As I said above, I think it’s extremely unlikely that the showrunners will ever scrap Beth and Rio from the show’s storylines. There are a few reasons why.

• Other interviews that the showrunners have done repeatedly make reference to the fact that Beth and Rio are not done and that they love playing with their dynamic.

Bans: Yeah. At the same time, he’s obviously one of our favorite parts of the show. We love the Beth-Rio relationship, the push and pull. And we were going some really, really sort of interesting juicy ways with that, in the last five [episodes]. So, regardless of what happens, I don’t think we’ve seen the last of him.

(https://www.tvinsider.com/933107/good-girls-season-3-finale-season-4-rio-beth-annie-ruby/)

Bans: They've been at each other's throats for 11 episodes. The last five were really going to take us in a new direction. We were going to, and still will in the opening of season 4, throw them into putting that adversarial weaponry aside and having to begrudgingly work together in a way that they haven't before. That chemistry is not something that can be snuffed out, so it brings up all of that good stuff, them working in such close proximity. That's something we're really looking forward to jumping into in season 4 and something we're sad we didn't get to show the fans in season 3, but it's all still coming. You don't go from having the hottest sex of your life to wanting someone dead without conflicted feelings.

(https://ew.com/tv/good-girls-season-3-finale-season-4/)

• While they were filming season 1, Jenna Bans actually thought it would be fun for one of the girls to sleep with Rio and thought Annie would make sense!

Beth and Rio’s relationship was a direct result of Christina and Manny’s explosive on-screen chemistry and, when they realised what they were seeing on screen, the showrunners actually leaned into it and altered the season 1 ending prior to the show being aired. In other words, Beth and Rio were an unexpected surprise but were absolutely not a product of the fandom wanting them. Their relationship exists solely because of the actors and the showrunners cashing in on the goldmine before any audience saw their chemistry. So, it wasn’t fandom pressure that forced the showrunners to make these two an on-screen back and forth relationship; they were already cultivating this relationship and rewrote season 1 to factor this in. This has been stated in interviews and at one of the Good Girls panels that Bans, Krebs and the cast did.

• Bans makes it pretty clear that whatever happens in season 4 is going to make Beth and Rio’s relationship “juicy and messy”, with a bunch of “sexiness” (isn’t that what it was lol?). She even says that it happens relatively early in the season.

At the end of the day, I have no idea what’s going to happen. We can speculate all we want but I’m sure we’ll all still be shocked by what unfolds when the season airs. I do think we have a lot to look forward to and, personally, I’m just going to enjoy the season and have fun being part of the fandom! ❤️

#gg seaosn 4 #beth x rio #brio #gg analysis #nbc good girls

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jincherie · 5 years

Text

florescence | iv

❀ — pairing: taehyung x reader x seokjin ❀ — genre: hybrid au, hybrid tae, hybrid jin, poly au, fluff, smut (future), angst ❀ — words: 5.1k+ ❀ — rating: sfw ❀ — warnings: a pinch of angst... oops ❀ — notes: fiddling and editing, i felt that i needed to expand this bit more so i added some context and cut the end scene off to make the feature of the next chapter

Okay, so maybe you’re lonely, and maybe there is something missing in your life, a void that you maybe want to fill with a companion that may or may not be of human origin… You’re perfectly content not doing anything about it though, until your best friend calls you in desperate need for your help and you suddenly end up coming home with not one, but two hybrids that may or may not have been on the way to the chopping block had you not taken them in. They’re more than a little rough around the edges, and the situation is less than ideal but… maybe the best things don’t always come in perfect, shiny packages. Maybe they just need a little time to bloom.

— posted; 16.11.2019 // masterlist || prev. | next.

"You're not going to be returning to a happy audience, y/n."

Startled from your position where you are crouched tying your shoe, you look up and take in the sight of Changkyun's feline form leaning against the wall beside you, white-tipped tail flicking idly behind him. Somewhat amused yet chagrined since you know exactly what he's talking about, you let out a sigh and finish tying your shoes before rising to a stand, dusting your hands against your jeans.

"I know," you respond, somewhat dryly. The cat hybrid is a little too smug for your liking, having been privy to the problem that's been making itself known in your life this week. "I can't help it though. If they want to keep eating pancakes and meat dishes then they gotta put up with me leaving the house for work. I need food tokens because that's capitalism, babey."

The hybrid snorts, rolling the ring over his lip with his tongue before deciding to deign you with a response. "I don't think I've ever heard anyone else refer to cash money as food tokens, but you know what it has a nice ring to it, so I'll let you have that one."

"Thanks for the charity," you laugh, slinging your bag over your shoulder. The kids that had been under your care for the evening are fast asleep in their beds, so you don't have to worry about them catching you leaving and throwing a tantrum. Their mother, a lovely woman who works as a secretary to the CEO of one of your local well-established businesses, has already returned home to thank you and pay you. Staff meetings that run late into the night are particularly gruelling for her, and you made her promise she was going to get some good rest before she retired. Changkyun, the household hybrid who has too strong of a personality to ever be anything but the only hybrid in the house, has followed you out to the front door, and is making the most of his remaining time to bother you to the best of his ability.

"Have they told you why, yet?" Changkyun seems unwilling to let the previous topic go, persistent in his efforts to pull the latest information from you. Begrudgingly, you play along and give the nosy cat what he wants. He's awfully invested in your current affairs for some reason, probably because he'd been nagging you to get hybrids of your own for so long and now you'd finally ended up with some, to his glee.

"No," you huff. Your eyes slide away from his form, falling upon one of the lovely paintings displayed on the walls as you pout. "They haven't said a word, but they're still acting the same."

You don't like the look that enters the hybrid's sly eyes. "I can help, you know." He takes a step closer, leaning forward with a shit-eating grin. "I know what's bothering them. Just let me--"

"Rude cat, if you know then why don't you tell me!" you protest, poking his chest in a manner more playful than anything. "And stop trying to rub on me, I know what you're doing. They were really grumpy with me after you did it the first time so don't think I don't see you trying to stir the pot, cheeky cat."

Changkyun grins, eyes closing in his mirth as he steps back with his hands up in surrender and lets out a laugh. "Ok, fine! Take all the fun out of it! Live without ever knowing the truth, see if I care..."

You roll your eyes, knowing he's still playing with you. "Right, well, I'm going to go before you somehow manage to indirectly upset my hybrids even more. I'm watching you, Changkyunnie."

At the appearance of the nickname you've given him, the hybrid can't help but let out a purr as he laughs and bids you farewell. "Bye! See you next week! I wonder if you will have sorted out your little problem by then."

It's very tempting to flip him the bird, very tempting, but somehow you manage to restrain yourself and you think it really is a testament to your willpower. You bid him farewell and make a quick escape, mind a little hung on his words as you make your way from the house and down the path to where you parked your car.

Will you have resolved this "little problem", as he so blasély put it, by this time next week? You aren't sure, but to be honest you are a little doubtful. Why? Well...

You’re unsure if anyone ever took the time to try and explain the concept of working and jobs to your two hybrids.

You say this because you kind of assumed that they’d know what you mean when, barely three weeks after you brought them home, you told them you were going off to work and wouldn't be back until later—except it quickly became clear that was not the case and they did not, in fact, know what you meant. You’ve been growing closer and closer each day that passed and despite what their guidebooks said, they aren't continuing to act as withdrawn as they had been and aren't refusing to let you close. You’re overjoyed, of course, at the development, but you had no idea it would mean they would get so clingy.

Somewhat disgruntled at the turn of your thoughts as you climb into your car, you recall how it had all gone down that first day you'd returned to work. “What?” Seokjin’s voice climbed in pitch as he looked to you in alarm, attention torn from the pancake batter he’d been stirring. You showed him how to make it without help the other day and ever since he’s been trying to perfect it on his own. He blinked like he couldn’t believe what you just said, and you swore you could hear a hint of fear riding in his tone. “You’re what? You’re leaving? Why are you leaving?”

“I have to go to work,” you explained clearly, a little amused and endeared at the fact he’d evidently thought you’d be at home with them all the time. “I need to make money to pay the bills so we can keep living here and making pancakes, you know.”

When you brought the hybrids home, you’d immediately taken some time off work—you know how critical the first few weeks are in establishing comfort and an environment and dynamic where they feel safe. You suppose you never paused and thought about whether they realised you’d have a job that you would have to return to at some point. Perhaps this was your fault.

“Wh—do you have to? Do you have to go?” He was still holding the wooden spoon he was stirring with, looking at you with wide eyes. “Please don’t go.”

“I have to,” you affirmed, sending him an apologetic look. You almost forgot Taehyung was in the kitchen with you until you felt a tugging on your shirt and looked to the stool where he was perched and—oh, no, he was giving you the puppy eyes, the most potent pair of them you’d ever seen in your life.

“Hey, don’t give me those eyes, mister puppy.” You reached and booped his nose; his cheeks flushed and his ears lowered. “I won’t be gone long, you’ll survive.”

To your complete and utter surprise, Taehyung pulled away and angled his body in the opposite direction, effectively turning his back to you and rolling his eyes. You were left gaping at the uncharacteristic show of attitude. He… just rolled his eyes? At you? What…

Seokjin decided to pursue a different avenue in the hopes of persuading you to shirk your responsibility and stay. He droped the spoon into the bowl and rounded the counter in a few large steps, moving quick and taking your hands into his hold. He whimpered sadly, already making a very strong argument. “y/n, please don’t go.”

You were weak-willed when it comes to these two hybrids, as you quickly found out, but it is because of how much you care for them that you were able to resist. It wasn’t without another half hour of whining and clinging that you were able to leave the house, though. You work as a nanny for a select few affluent families, so its not like you’re working fulltime office hours, and most importantly you’re always going to come back. You have no idea why they’re so opposed to the idea of you leaving at all when they’ve shown they understand your reasoning…

The previous days you’ve come home after work, you’ve received a fair spread of responses. At first, they clung to you. When you came home after that first day of work (mind you, you were gone barely five hours that time) from the second you walked through the door, your two hybrids all but tackled you and stayed firmly attached to your side for the entire night after that. If they could, you were sure they’d shackle you to them.

The night after that, the reception was a little different. They were upset that you’d left again, and proceeded to let you know—for about the half hour that they could last without cuddling on the couch, that is. All you had to do was pull pudding out of the oven and your treason was forgotten, hybrids by your side and pressed against you once more. This, understandably, lulled you into a false sense of security of sorts. Perhaps they’d get over it soon?

Nope. The days after that, they switched it up in favour of something they seemed to think would be more effective. You’re no stranger to the cold shoulder, and usually quite sensitive to it, but to be honest… their attempt humoured you more than anything. The visible conflict in their expressions every time they attempted to brush you off is probably what was funniest. Every time they ignored you, or didn’t respond, it went against their nature and their usual urges. They’re soft, cuddly boys, you’ve found. And they might be grumpy, but even as they’re trying to make a statement, they can’t help but long for the way things usually are. Their cold shoulder usually lasts about an hour, and then they break. Nowhere near long enough to really have an effect.

But by today, when you arrive home from the job with Changkyun, you think it’s beginning to wear on you a little bit. When you ease the front door open, banging your toe on the frame and letting out a curse in the process, no one comes to greet you. The house isn’t empty (you can hear them scuffling about in their room) and the lights are on, but still, it feels… a little lonely. You huff, slightly grumpy that they’re still throwing a tantrum over this. As much as you try not to let it show, it is frustrating. You have to work! It’s not something you can simply stop doing because you want to, or your hybrids want you to.

You halt in the hallway to the kitchen, making yourself pause and take a breath. You’re frustrated and a little grumpy, yes, but you don’t want them to pick it up. They’re sensitive to these things, you’ve found. You watched a video on Facebook about kittens that made you cry the other day and barely a second after the first tear touched your cheek had Seokjin almost broke down your door, worried to high hell and back because he smelt it and thought something was wrong. You’ve been very careful since then, not wanting them to feel upset or uncomfortable as a result of your own emotions.

Once you’re sure you’ve collected yourself enough, you continue into the kitchen, placing your bag on the table as you walk past. Humming and knowing that the quickest way to get them out of their mood is food, you open the fridge to stare inside, hoping an idea for dinner will come to you like a vision from above. Your fridge may be many things, but it’s not prophetic, and currently it’s not stocked with much food either. Huffing, you close the door with a little more force than necessary and turn away, wincing at the following bang. Hopefully the eggs are ok.

You’re not much in the mood to make a big meal tonight, so you make the executive decision to pull the tortellini you’ve been craving from the freezer and set it on the bench. Begrudgingly, after a moment of consideration, you pull out a few vegetables to add to the sauce mix. You suppose you better put some effort in, since you’ve already chosen the lazy meal.

True to character, as soon as the tortellini begins to cook in the pot and the smell begins to permeate the air, you hear the sound of light footsteps creeping down the stairs, attempting to go unnoticed. You wonder if they underestimate the extent of your human hearing, or if they’re just really bad at being sneaky.

They don’t go into the kitchen straight away, but they go to the living room, as close as they can get to the source of the smell without giving in and talking to you. You roll your eyes, partly amused and partly miffed. You suppose this is how it’s gonna be.

Considering how easy of a dish it is, it doesn’t take you long to cook and serve it. Instead of calling them to the kitchen to grab it, you slip out of the room and make you way to where they’ve started watching Netflix, next to each other on the couch.

Whether they don’t hear you coming or are still hell bent on ignoring you, you’re able to sneak right up behind them, the back of their heads peeking just over the back of the couch. Your hands slip forward, fingers weaving through the silky locks atop their head and ruffling them. Both hybrids jerk, Seokjin letting out a surprised yelp as he turns partly in his seat to shoot you an alarmed look.

The tension in their forms melts away in the next second as the tips of your fingers and your nails lightly drag across their scalps, brushing just barely the bottom of their ears. You think you hear a sharp intake of breath, surprisingly from Taehyung’s direction, but can’t verify it before your hands leave the top of their heads and your smiling at them as they turn to face you.

“Dinner is ready, bubs,” you say, somewhat humoured by the visible conflict on their faces—they manage to settle on remaining disgruntled, though, much to your disappointment.

They rise from the couch, pouting, and follow you to the dining table. They seat themselves without another word, and as soon as they see you reaching for your fork and taking your first bite, they follow suit. You think they plan to stay silent throughout the entirety of dinner, but you manage to wear them down enough that Seokjin lets slip a few sentences of how their day went and what they got up to. Aside from that, dinner passes quickly and somewhat tensely. It’s an odd tension, though, as though it’s not yet fully formed and kind of incomplete. Like there’s a lack of conviction and commitment to it.

As soon as they’re done eating, like the sweet boys they are they take their dishes to the kitchen, rinse them off and load them into the dishwasher along with the other containers and utensils used for dinner. You rinse your own bowl as well once done and pop it in with theirs; without even a glance in your direction, Taehyung adjusts it so the fan won’t hit it and then slides the full drawers in, placing a dishwashing tablet in and turning it on. Efficient; he certainly wastes no time about it.

Already even before this point, you knew that they were going to try and bolt the second they could—and it seems your predictions come true, as the second they hear the dishwasher turn on and begin its cycle, the two of them are inching towards the edge of the kitchen, barely an ounce of sneakiness to their name. Fighting a sigh, you dry your hands before taking a few steps and using them to definitively grasp their own. As you lace your fingers together, the two hybrids freeze, Taehyung shooting you a wide-eyed look and Seokjin faltering in his stride.

"Will you two stay, if you're not too tired?" You ask, a shred of vulnerability more than planned making itself known in your voice. "They added some movies I really like to Netflix, and I really wanted to show you. I thought we could watch them together...?"

You can tell the second you look at Taehyung's face, his features softened and eyes shining, that he's given up giving you the cold shoulder for the night. Seokjin's slumped shoulders, tension having fled at your words, also tell you that he's on the same page as his brother. You brush your thumb over his hand and feel his grip tighten as he turns to you, smiling slightly.

"Of course we're not tired yet, what did you want to watch?"

You spend the rest of the night curled with them on the couch, tension long gone and only warm affection drawing the three of you together, and can't help but think maybe this was the last of their protests. They're sweet, these boys, and you know part of the reason they're upset is that you're leaving when they want you to be here, spending time with them.

But alas, it is not to be, and your optimism is quickly shot down.

Their reaction to your continued absence during the work days persists. Each morning you wake and get ready for work, your two hybrids are there almost every step of the way pleading with you to stay, offering any bribe they can think of onto the table to aid their bid—cuddles on the couch, snacks, movies, naps. Admittedly, each day it gets a little harder to steel your resolve and actually go to work, but you try not to let them see that they’re gradually wearing you down. They’re too endearing for their own good—it probably isn’t healthy for them to have you as wrapped around their fingers as they currently do.

At this point, you get the sense that it’s not just one, but a number of reasons at play that make them so averse to you leaving for work. It occurs to you that they’re probably still a bit insecure, given their background and the fact they haven’t actually been here that long. But at the same time, it feels like it’s also more than that.

You work as a nanny and babysit children, but since you work for families who are usually perched on the upper echelon, it’s not uncommon for you to be spending a lot of time in proximity to other hybrids as well. Ever since they were first created, hybrids have been a symbol of wealth and affluence. Despite much more of the middle and working class having them as companions these days, in a sense that earlier attitude still stands. A few of the families you work for have hybrids, two of them having more than one. Thankfully, none of them mistreat their hybrids, in actuality you were surprised upon first working for them to find that they’re treated almost as well as the children are. It makes you happy to see such a shift from the common attitude, and the hybrids themselves are all so lovely that even when the kids have crummy days and want nothing more than to throw tantrums, you have no complaints.

Despite just over a week and a half of avoidance about why they’re so grumpy, it seems today is the day you’re finally going to gain an insight into the cause of their behaviour and push your hybrids over a line you didn’t even know was there until they cross it.

It’s a Friday where you’ve just arrived home after working with one of those families with multiple hybrids, that you seem to push your own over a line of sorts. You’re a little tired as you come through the door, eagerly slipping your boots off and hanging your bag and jacket up. Neither of the hybrids come running to greet you, as they might have done before you ‘betrayed’ them and started leaving the house for work. You’re less amused than you might have been in days prior, and more pouty—ever since they started cuddling you you’ve grown addicted, and you miss the warmth and affection when you’re away.

Well, you suppose today you’ll either have to go find them or let them gradually come to you.

Humming to yourself, you bring the take-away boxes of stir fry the family had been so kind to share with you into the living room, plopping them on the coffee table with some cutlery. They tinkle and clank together obnoxiously, as most metal items do, and you open a box and sit back, waiting for the sound and the smell of meat to rouse the hybrids from wherever they’re hiding.

You don’t have to wait long—Taehyung is the first to appear, his eyes lighting up on instinct the second he sees you, before he catches himself and smooths his expression, averting his eyes to the food on the table and taking one of the boxes and some cutlery. Even when he’s pouting, he can’t stand being too far away from you; he perches on the cushion next to you, but as far away as the armrest will allow him so that he can still let you know he’s not happy you left this morning. He’s so cute, sitting there and pouting as he shoves stirfry in his mouth, you can’t even find it in yourself to be annoyed at his childlike behaviour. The two of you eat in silence until Seokjin comes, the male’s soft footfalls announcing his presence before the sound of his inquisitive sniffing does.

You look up as he enters the room, curious to see if the fox hybrid will continue giving you a weak attempt at the cold shoulder as he has been for the first hour or so after you get home every night. He does, but when you give him a pleasant greeting with a bright smile you can see his resolve waver. He grabs his food and cutlery and sets up on the couch adjacent to this one, pointedly avoiding your eyes lest his resolve completely shatter. There is a small amount of tension in the air but you decide to let them finish their meals before you address it. Enough is enough but you’re all also hungry.

The second both of them are done and sitting back in content, you stack the boxes and push them further into the middle of the table so they don’t tip. Your movement brings you closer to Seokjin, and he sniffs subtly before his nose wrinkles and his brows draw down harshly. He doesn’t say anything, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip instead, but you catch it nonetheless.

Curious at the reaction and knowing (hoping) you don’t smell bad, you turn to Taehyung and lean closer experimentally to see if he will give a similar response. He does, still not looking at you—surprise filters through you when you see his features twist into a scowl. Wow, this past week you’re really seeing a new side to the shy baby, huh?

“Alright, what is it?” you ask, throwing the question into the tense air before either of them can bolt and fester with whatever mood they’re in. “Why are the two of you so upset and why do you pull that face when I get close? Do I stink?”

To his credit, Seokjin appears a little sheepish at being called out, cheeks flushing with brief embarrassment—Taehyung on the other hand remains steadfast and petulant, crossing his arms. His ears are lowered and still, he refuses to look at you.

“…No,” Seokjin answers you, eyes flicking away. He’s pouting, tone bordering on a grumble. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

You blink, surprised at the sass and distance he’s suddenly putting between you. It didn’t take you long after they arrived to realise that Seokjin preferred open communication and honesty, but had a little trouble working up the nerve to say things sometimes and hence stayed quiet instead. But this time he’s fibbing to you, brushing it under the rug and attempting to dismiss it when you can see something is up. You can’t help but wonder what brought that about.

“Oh?” you say, turning your gaze to Taehyung—the action makes you catch him while glimpsing at you and he rips his gaze away, cheeks flushing as he scowls more. “It’s ‘nothing’ that has the two of you so grumpy?”

Seokjin’s brows drew together, lips tugging down into a frown. Your words seem to set him off a bit, as he’s suddenly on the defensive. “No. Maybe. What do you care? You’re never here anymore and you—you probably don’t even care about us anymore. You’re too busy caring about—about other h-people. Whatever.”

Your brows shoot up as he stands suddenly, Taehyung following suit—you can tell that Seokjin wants to stomp off and keep being dramatic by ignoring you, but he can’t seem to make himself skip saying goodnight to you. So he says it, but makes sure to imbue it with as much sass and attitude as possible. “Goodnight.”

Completely taken aback, you watch as they file out of the living room and no doubt go to make their way upstairs to their room. You’re not angry, but you’re definitely a bit confused and feel a little guilty, among other feelings that quickly begin to make themselves known. The two of them know that you look after children for your job, and when you told them it didn’t seem to make them bitter or envious—it seems more than a little out of character for them to be upset that you leave them to babysit kids now.

You’re actually a little hurt, if only because you’re also confused and have no idea why they’re acting this way. You have no idea, and they won’t tell you—you could probe further, press harder, but will that make them tell you, or will it push them further away? You don’t want to risk upsetting them more, and if that’s a possibility you don’t think you could make yourself follow through with it.

Sitting there on the couch, completely alone and very aware of the absence of their warmth, your chest aches a little. You’re new to this, you don’t know all the things a new hybrid owner probably should, and it shows. Your first instinct is to focus on them—what is their problem?—but now that you sit here and ruminate a little, you realise that this is more than a little bit your fault. If you were a more knowledgeable owner, then surely you’d have at least an inkling as to what is wrong. But you don’t, you’re so painfully in the dark it’s shameful enough to make a fresh wave of guilt course through you.

You need to find out more, research a little, but you’re not sure where to start. You have no clue what is bothering them in the first place, and even less idea as to how to solve it. Deep in your thoughts, you rise and begin tidying up after dinner in a bit of a haze. You almost drop the cutlery on the way to the kitchen, but manage to catch it just at the last second. After cleaning what you needed to, you made your way to your bedroom and curled into the bed, a frown tugging your lips of its own accord. It takes you a while to settle down and fall asleep as your mind races and leaves you in its wake. You really hope this whole thing doesn't go on for too long, because it's only been a single night that they've ignored you like this and it sucks.

The next day after you work-- a different house to yesterday, one with two male hybrids of the labrador variety-- the reaction is much the same, if not worse. They don't even come out when you call them for dinner, having arrived home early enough to actually make it today. At some point, they come out and take their plates of food, but you miss it, which you're quite upset at yourself for. The first and only time you see them that evening, is by chance as you emerge from your room after a shower and catch a glimpse of them scuttling back to their own. Their dishes are on the kitchen bench when you go to fetch some water, and it makes your heart twinge a little. They're really not going to talk to you at all? You don't think you're doing anything that bad! You have no choice but to leave for work, you need income so you can support yourself and now them. It's not something you can just drop and never deal with, and you have a feeling they know that and yet... something is upsetting them. You just want them to tell you, so that you can try and fix it however you can.

That night, you contemplate knocking on their door and seeking them out, and even get all the way to the closed door of their room before you halt, hand in the air. Ultimately, you can't make yourself do it. Perhaps, if they want to be alone, then leaving them alone is best. Heart hanging heavy in your chest, you turn on your heel and silently make your way to your room, but not before you utter a soft "Goodnight, boys." knowing that no matter how quietly you say it, they'd still hear it.

Your mood is looking like it's about to quickly spiral, so in an effort to prevent it you find yourself in the middle of a self-consolation session. Tomorrow you don't have any work, a day off you've been looking forward to, so surely that will cheer them up and make them emerge from their shells? You miss them, and as you curl into your bed once more without the lingering warmth of their usual cuddles that you seem to have grown accustomed to, you feel lonelier than ever.

You really hope that tomorrow, things will turn around a little.

a/n: i hope u enjoy it n please let me know what u think! the next part is already partially done so it shouldn’t be too long before the next part is out! hurray for the academic year ending here !!

masterlist || prev. | next.

2K notes · View notes

bitterfrosts · 3 years

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i actually didn’t think i’d like SL but it also makes sense i did cuz my other favs are LWJ and WN but i fell in love w those two w the novel and manhwa ,, SL i fell for later after watching both CQL & the donghua i think cuz i got more time to wrap my head around the plot / timeline by then so i could focus on characters n such ??? if that makes any sense sorry

also like off topic how do you imagine SL being towards XY in a modern au ?? like i read some fics and it’s just genuine distaste to him because of love triangle stuff / possessive nature for those two but i just always feel like for there to be a mirror of how he feels towards XY in canon XY has to do something yk ?? like i just don’t take SL as someone to hate someone outright like who is he to judge but their actions unto others yk ??

idk i read a ( modern au ) fic where like i the end sxx does get tighter despite everything cuz XY did a LOT of shit and really bad shit to SL specifically but i think it only worked because they make the fact that their whole dynamic ( SL x XY specially ) was extremely rocky a lot of pushing boundaries & therapy for all of them cuz like fuck they need it but even in the ending of the fic they aren’t in paradise together it’s more of the water has finally stilled and the boat isn’t shaking to where everyone might die yk ???

i might be off base here though sorry maybe just ignore this whole thing i just have a lot of thoughts about SL sorry for spam if i did

The thing I like about modern AUs is it’s easier to “soften” characters that are hard to make happy endings for. Unless you’re going for a “dead dove serial killer” vibe, XY can’t really be the blood-happy killer he is in modern AUs and expect to have any kind of happy resolution, not for the characters AND the readers benefit. XY can still be a pain in the butt handful, but he past can be repainted as the writer sees fit. (I personally like to make him a troubled former foster kid who has the system fail him as it is unfortunately wont to do, who had a seedy past but is trying to rebuild himself.)

And... as far as sxx dynamics go, that IS one of my pet peeves with it. You can very often tell when the writer really just wants to write xuexiao smut but can’t think of a reason to have SL not be present that doesn’t make either xxc or xy come off as jerks. So sl gets turned into a sort of pretty ornament to decorate the background so we know he’s there, but rarely gets to participate in the actual relationship. And like- if you wanna just write xuexiao stuff, you can! I’d do that instead of getting people’s hopes up wrt sxx. I read a fic a while ago where xy was put into an existing songxiao dynamic after xxc hooked up with him and it read as xxc cheating on sl and that break of trust was never followed up or dealt with in any way. It CAN be done, but it’s hard to establish correctly, if that’s the route you wanna go. There’s an ongoing fic I’m absolutely in LOVE with rn that handles it pretty well! Here written by @veilchenjaeger who has imo some of the BEST characterizations!

As for modern songxue interactions, I see song lan as the kind of guy who just needs someone to take care of, whether it’s xxc or a-qing or even Xue Yang. (For the latter, he’d do so begrudgingly, but he’d do it.) sure, modern xy never does the dishes and takes all the hot water in the morning and eats his leftovers, but xy’s life would be a mess without sl swooping in to keep things in check. And SL’s stern but patient nature leaves xy with room to get better, which I often like to see in modern AUs. There’s another series that handles it well that I love here by rynleaf that has my ideal songxue dynamic that follows up the “song lan has a violent streak he isn’t proud of but also needs to take care of people” characterization I feel he inherently has.

I hope you enjoy them. :)

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medeafive · 3 years

Note

buckynat prompt: Buky joins the Avengers and Nat as his mentor (sort of like Coulson was to her and Clint), who explains/helps him to integrate better into the team. :) if you feel inspired.

I came across this years-old ask (sorry) and inspiration struck so here you go: good old retro tower fic with movie nights, Thor making pop tarts, Clint playing Angry Birds and all that.

(To the anon who sent a prompt more recently, I got it and I’ll get to it! Just don’t expect me to be quick lol)

Bucky’s not comfortable with this team thing. They all already know each other, have their established dynamics, all easy-going and sassy, and now he’s right in the middle and- it’s awkward. He’s not good at human-ing yet. Natasha and Steve both say it’ll come back, and that they all know their share of awkwardness, but he’s not so sure about that. His case is different. Just because he pulled it together enough to let himself be found by Steve, to come back with him-

He’s still not cleared for active duty, which he actually doesn’t mind that much. Hanging out in the tower is fine, he can handle most of them individually, even in small groups, but the real horror for him is movie night. All of them at once, one louder than the other, alcohol, some fast-paced movie he can barely focus on, and it’s all so crowded, too. Of course, the worst one was when Stark somehow made them all watch The Manchurian Candidate. But every time Bucky tries to suggest he’ll skip movie night, Steve gives him the worst puppy eyes he’s ever seen and he says yes to everything again. He really doesn’t want to disappoint Steve. And it’s not like he has any good excuses for not going, he doesn’t have missions like the rest of them.

They’re squabbling about the movie choice again, as they always do, and Bucky’s just sitting there quietly with the popcorn Thor distributed cheerfully to everyone. Barton wants to watch something funny, Stark wants to watch a horror movie because apparently Halloween is a whole season for him, Steve is trying to interest them in movies from back in the day without any success while Banner keeps suggesting films that don’t even have English titles and Thor is reacting to everything he’s heard of before, though he seems to mix most of it up. Bucky doesn’t really care what they’re watching as long as he doesn’t have to sit in the middle. Having people on both sides feels way too crowded. There’s no clear majority until Thor discovers there’s a movie called Paddington about a bear in a hat, and then everyone falls in line with that, though Stark only does so begrudgingly.

Bucky sits on the right side so it’s all good, and he pays some attention while also nibbling absent-mindedly on the popcorn. Natasha slips in about halfway through the movie, wet hair, rosy skin, and he remembers she had a mission, though he can’t remember what. Or maybe she didn’t tell him. She took it on herself to be something like a mentor to him, someone who understands what he’s going through, who doesn’t have as many expectations for him as Steve, who’ll help him settle in. She’s good at it, too, but she’s good at everything so that’s not surprising. He really really likes Natasha, more than he cares to admit, and he relaxes somewhat when she drops onto the couch next to him. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she whispers back. “Mind if I sit here?”

He finds he doesn’t. She smells of citrus fruit, probably the shampoo. “Sure. Mission went well?”

“Well enough,” she replies, extending her legs and making herself comfortable like a big lazy cat. “Mhm. Was that Clint’s idea?”

“Thor really latched onto it,” he replies. “Apparently, two is a majority here.”

She chuckles, shifting again until her shoulder rubs against his, and he really only stops breathing for one second, at most.

He doesn’t pay any attention to the movie after that and it just flies by, time best measured by how often Natasha has reached over into his popcorn bowl. She chews very quietly. Or maybe the movie is just too loud to hear. Anyway, it’s over way too soon, credits rolling, and Natasha reaches into the popcorn bowl a final time before scooting a little away from him. Thor has thoughts about the movie, loudly proclaimed thoughts, and it goes back and forth for a while without Bucky really listening. He notices Banner quietly folding up what looks like some scientific journal on the other end of the couch. Steve turns to ask Bucky about the movie when he notices Natasha. “Oh hey. Nat. Didn’t see you there.”

Natasha reaches into the popcorn bowl again. “Yeah, didn’t want to disturb.”

“Glad you could make it,” Steve replies. “Did you get that business in Laos under control?”

He doesn’t remember that, so she probably really didn’t tell him. “Pretty much,” she replies, munching unabashedly. “I’ll debrief you all tomorrow. It’s not urgent.”

Steve yawns. “Tomorrow sounds good. It’s already late.”

“Oh come on, you old man,” Stark complains. “Really? Oh, hey, Romanoff.”

“Yeah, yeah, you night owl,” Steve returns, getting up. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning in the gym. Good night, Buck.”

“It’s not even 10,” Stark states. “We could easily watch another movie.”

“I’m out as well,” Banner says quietly. “One movie is really enough.”

Stark groans. “The god of movie night? Please?”

“Sorry, my friend,” Thor replies. “I promised Jane I would call her.”

“I’m game,” Barton interjects. “I mean, we can just watch without them. Tasha?”

Natasha shrugs. “I’m jet lagged, I won’t sleep anyway.”

“Well, then good night, boring friends,” Stark decides. “What do you want to watch?”

Barton shrugs. “Whatever. Hey, Thor, are you still making the cake pops tomorrow?”

Thor looks back. “Of course! Thanks for reminding me. I shall make them tomorrow.”

“Well, that’s one reason to get out of bed,” Barton remarks, turning back. “Any ideas on the movie?”

“How about Pretty Woman,” Stark teases. “I hear someone likes redheads.”

He blushes though he doesn’t mean to. Stark makes references like that all the time and Bucky still can’t handle it. Yes, fine, they spar together, and if she occasionally ends up having her legs around his neck, that’s a choking move and that’s why he gets red-faced and not at all anything else, no reason to be weird about it and say stuff like between her thighs- “Yeah, you,” Natasha throws back. “I noticed. I don’t really care but not Pretty Woman.”

“It’s weird that you’re over there,” Barton remarks with amusement. “I assume you don’t have suggestions, buddy?”

He shakes his head. Most of the movies he remembers are silent and Hydra didn’t care to keep him up on anything that didn’t involve killing people. Natasha climbs over him, accidentally kicking Barton’s arm. “Yeah, I’ll just come over. Whoops.”

“Oh, you like horror movies, don’t you?” Stark asks. “I bet you haven’t seen The Conjuring yet.”

“I haven’t,” Natasha confirms, settling in on Bucky’s left side. “I mean, if you want, sure.”

“JARVIS, you heard her,” Stark says. “Unless Birdbrain objects.”

Barton shrugs, pulling his feet in. “You know I don’t have taste.”

“Mind if I take that?” Natasha asks, pulling the popcorn bowl from Bucky’s lap to hers. “Then we can share. Clint, you know popcorn’s not real food.”

“You’re one to talk,” Barton shoots back, and then the film already starts rolling.

It turns out horror is bad. He actually thought he liked it, vague memories about taking girls to the theater and them squealing and grabbing his hand tightly, but the moment the creepy music starts, the hair on the back of his neck stands. He tries not to look too much, focuses on picking unpopped popcorn from the bottom of the bowl, his heart is racing unnecessarily, it’s just a movie, he has seen real horrors, this is just some invented bullshit- The next jumpscare hits him hard and his knee hits Natasha’s, rattling the popcorn bowl, and he could curse himself for making so much noise, drawing so much attention-

“Hey, JARVIS, pause,” Natasha orders, putting the bowl in Barton’s lap and climbing over the back of the couch. “You know what, I need a drink.”

Stark snorts. “You know what, make that two.”

Bucky’s heartbeat calms down a little. Okay. He can do this. It’s just a movie. He can’t admit he got scared because of a movie. He has a reputation, goddamnit. Barton gives him an unreadable look. Natasha climbs back over with two glasses, somehow not spilling anything. “There. Cheers.”

“Cheers,” Stark returns, knocking his glass against hers and then starting to sip.

The awful movie continues playing and Bucky’s a little short of distractions to focus on, given that Barton is still holding the popcorn bowl. He doesn’t even have anything to drink but getting up now would seem suspicious. Just sit through it. How long can this damned movie be? He’s been through worse. He can do this.

His heart rate doesn’t really go down, though, sweaty right palm, the old fight or flight but definitely don’t just sit there, which is unfortunately exactly what he has to do. He tries to focus on Natasha’s comforting smell, he thinks it’s orange, he often tells her about his nightmares and that makes it a little better, he’s here on the couch and the movie is just a movie after all-

He wasn’t paying attention so the jumpscare startles him badly, elbows jolting in, hands fisting- something grabs his metal hand and he relaxes slightly, Natasha’s thumb sliding into his palm- but then he realizes Natasha is holding his left hand, holding it tightly, thumb rubbing his metal palm, and his heart rate jumps up a notch. He feels everything in the metal arm, despite what he tells Steve when it’s malfunctioning, so he really feels Natasha’s small hand wrapped around his, squeezing his, and he actually doesn’t hear the movie anymore over the blood rushing through his ears.

He’s certainly not going to let go and she doesn’t either. He chances a look but she’s just staring ahead, gripping his metal hand. Fine by him. There’s more scary shit happening on screen but it doesn’t quite register. Barton starts arguing about something and Stark argues back but it’s all just a hum, Natasha flips her hand and presses all four fingers into his metal palm, thumb sliding over the back of his hand soothingly. Well. If there’s ever been a distraction, that was it.

He still startles, though, and Natasha squeezes his hand so hard he’d never dare do it to her, for fear of breaking her hand, and then there’s a particularly bad bit that makes him tense in the shoulders and she leans over slightly and whispers “it’s over soon” in his ear. That makes it a little better. Most of all, it makes it very hard to focus on the movie.

The bad bit is long, feels long, but then the rest flies by almost regrettably fast and before he knows it, Natasha has pulled her hand back and the lights are turning on again. He blinks slowly, awakening from a dream-like state. “I don’t know,” Barton remarks. “Witches, really?”

“We fight with gods and aliens and you want to object to witches?” Stark complains.

“Not witches generally,” Barton retreats. “But weren’t they saying that the woman burned during the whatever century witch hunt was actually a witch? Wasn’t that the whole point?”

“I mean, it’s a horror movie,” Stark replies. “Does it really have to make sense?”

“I thought it was great,” Natasha says. “Not necessarily anything new or creative but solid horror stuff.”

He’s still shaken, though he can’t tell whether that’s from the movie or from Natasha’s tiny hand squeezing his. “Yeah, they’re going to make like 5000 sequels and spin-offs,” Stark remarks. “Hey, popsicle, you don’t look too happy about it.”

“I don’t know,” Bucky replies, carefully restrained. “I kinda zoned out, wasn’t really paying attention.”

That’s kinda true, actually, he couldn’t retell the story though the creepy music and the shock effects are very fresh in his mind. Natasha casually pats his thigh. “I’m hungry. Any food in the house that isn’t popcorn?”

“Fridge is fully stocked,” Stark reports, pulling out one of his fancy phones. “Yeah, I’m out though. Pep scheduled me a 9am tomorrow.”

“The horror,” Barton remarks sarcastically. “Nah, I’ll think I’ll go to bed. Or, you know, play Angry Birds.”

“You know that’s not the same thing as sleeping,” Natasha accuses, climbing over the back of the sofa. “Okay, good night, losers, I’m making myself a sandwich.”

She disappears into the kitchen and Bucky realizes he stared after her again. Stark snorts, swiping over his magic phone. “Hill says there’s something in Brazil we should take a look at. Yeah, tomorrow.”

“Again?” Barton questions. “Weren’t we there only a few weeks ago?”

“Yeah, turns out us being there didn’t magically fix everything,” Stark replies. “Surprisingly.”

Barton rolls his eyes, getting up with a groan. “Yeah, that sounds like a problem for tomorrow me. Great guy, he can do anything. You’ll meet him tomorrow.”

“You keep telling me about that guy and he never shows up,” Stark returns, typing something. “Okay. See you tomorrow then, there’ll be a meeting and all.”

Bucky has never been to one but they all seem to hate it. Barton flips the bird and slumps over to the elevator. Stark is still typing, frowning. “Mhm. Any plans, robobrain?”

“No,” Bucky replies carefully. “Not really.”

Stark huffs with amusement, stuffing the phone away and grinning. “I see. Have fun zoning out then. Staring blankly into the dark or whatever it is that you do.”

He feels like if Stark made an inappropriate comment now, he’d snap, but somehow the guy just grabs his not yet empty drink and saunters off down the stairs to the other elevator. This building is complicated. He waits until the elevator doors open and then close again, taking Stark’s humming up with them. Then he sighs, pushing up, and walks slowly over into the kitchen.

Natasha is indeed making a sandwich, washing lettuce like it’s just what she does, not like she’s 130 pounds of could kill you. Well, he doesn’t know her weight. She looks up when he leans in the doorway. “Don’t wanna go to bed yet?”

“No.” He bites his lip. He’s not really hungry, too jumpy and unsettled.

She makes a sympathetic noise. “The movie didn’t sit well with you, huh?”

Not at all. “Especially the bit about demonic possession,” he admits. “Thanks, though, I didn’t want to- didn’t want to tell them.”

“It’s totally okay if you can’t handle horror movies,” Natasha replies, placing the lettuce in her sandwich. “I mean, they’re designed to stress you out. But I get that that’s hard to admit.”

He breathes out. She has this way of making you comfortable with her, open up to her, and somehow it doesn’t feel sinister or manipulative but good. Like she understands. He still feels her tiny hand against his. “It’s just- one stressful thing stacked on top of another on top of another.”

“Yeah, I know,” she agrees, squirting some sauce into the sandwich. “That’s just what life is.”

He grabs one of the bar stools and sits down. “What about you? You were gone for a while.”

She shoots him a grin, capping the sandwich off. “Ah, you know how it is. Nice beach holiday.”

He snorts. “Isn’t Laos the one state in Southeast Asia that doesn’t have a coast?”

“Good catch,” she remarks, biting off the sandwich. “Have you been studying geography?”

“Reading up on Vietnam, mostly,” he replies. “I’m pretty certain I was there at some point but I didn’t really understand what was going on at the time. I mean, I still don’t understand it.”

She chuckles. “Yeah, that’s not on you. No, the mission was fine. Didn’t get too messy.”

She’s often secretive about missions, probably a habit from her SHIELD days. He’s learned to avoid it. “Good weather at least?”

She smirks, taking another bite of her sandwich. “Ha. Summer monsune. It was super humid. Hot, too.”

That does sound familiar. Yeah, he shouldn’t kid himself, he probably did some really bad stuff in Vietnam, even if he doesn’t remember right now. Another minefield. He sighs, straightening. Tomorrow. "I think I’ll go to bed. Might join Steve in the gym tomorrow morning.”

“Could you-” she cuts in, wiping the pink-ish sauce out of the corner of her mouth. “Wanna stay just a minute? I’ll be done soon.”

He frowns, sinking back into the chair. “No hurry. Why?”

“Nothing,” she replies, chewing. “Nothing. Sure you don’t want anything to eat?”

His stomach still feels too fluttery for that. “No, I’m good. Are you okay?”

“All good,” she reassures him. “Just give me a minute, then we can go upstairs together.”

Wait, that’s weird. And not in the blushing way. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

She chuckles suddenly. “Okay, okay, I’ll tell you. Promise not to laugh.”

“Okay.”

She wipes another bead of sauce off her lip. Yeah, that was too much. “Okay. Don’t laugh. I get really scared during horror movies.”

He almost laughs. “Come on, you weren’t.”

“I hide it well,” she replies. “And I’ll forget it the next day but right now, I wouldn’t go into the dark and I’m watching that corner really hard.”

Oh, she’s serious. “So why did you watch it?”

“Please.” She snorts, picking up some lost lettuce. “I have a reputation. I can’t admit I’m scared because of a stupid movie.”

Well, he wouldn’t have believed her. “So when you grabbed my hand-”

“That wasn’t just for you,” she finishes. “Now, if you tell anyone, I will murder you.”

Of course. “Don’t worry, no one would believe me anyway.”

“True,” she admits, taking another bite. “So, now you know. I still think it’s fun, though.”

He can’t agree with that right now but maybe he can in the future. “Okay, I’ll just stay until you finish. And I’ll gladly walk you back to your room.”

She snorts. “Don’t get all gentlemanly on me. Thanks, though.”

He’d actually like to thank her but he’s already been cheesy enough. “No problem. But don’t you dare tell Stark.”

She grins mischievously. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

#buckynat #bucky barnes #winter soldier #natasha romanoff #black widow #avengers tower #my writing #fanfic

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domesticsasuke · 4 years

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Domestic Sasuke AU Headcanon List

Domestic!Sasuke is an AU where Sasuke retires from being an active shinobi after Sarada is born.

But in my version of the AU there's a lot little more to it than that! This basically details all of the important changes that come with this AU.

Putting under a read more because this got long as fuck.

In this AU, Sasuke is brought back to Konoha similar as the canon series. He is interrogated for information on things like Orochimaru's research, the movements of Oto while he was affiliated with them, and any other information that may deem worth Konoha knowing. All of which he gives up willingly.

He is sentenced to one year probation in which he cannot leave the village, unless his presence is otherwise specifically required. He can do whatever he wants, missions included, as long as it's within Konoha.

Less than a house arrest, the probation is supposed to be an adjustment period to allow Sasuke to settle back into village life, situate the Uchiha estate, adjust to his lack of an arm, and focus on stabilizing his physical and mental health.

Now in Sakura's Story, we know that Sakura works on establishing help centers dedicated to helping children with their mental health and trauma across the shinobi nations. I like to think that within the village she was already pushing for better focus on mental health for shinobi.

Part of this adjustment period is Sasuke receiving counseling, both for anything he experienced while he was away and for what he experienced as a child. When Anko heard they were trying to find the best choice for counselor for Sasuke upon his return, she very firmly volunteered. As someone who went through some fucked up shit as a kid, she’d been working on becoming trained to help other shinobi youth.

I think the potential student-mentor relationship between Sasuke and Anko, given their shared experiences with the curse mark and Orochimaru, is woefully underutilized and unexplored.

The first few months are bad. Despite having returned willingly to Konoha, Sasuke's mental health is a mess. After years of emotional and physical trauma and keeping his mental barriers locked tight, finally being in a position where he can potentially feel safe makes him pretty much shut down. (A common occurrence for people once they get out of unsafe environments into safe ones.) Anko starts helping him work through all the layers and layers of shit and baggage he has backed up in his brain.

Interestingly enough, Sasuke finds himself spending a lot of time with Lee. Lee's energy reminds him a lot of Naruto and it begrudgingly endears Lee to him, only there’s something much more calming about sparring with Lee than Naruto. (Their dynamic comes to resemble Gai and Kakashi somewhat, but Lee is just a little sweeter and Sasuke just a little more serious.)

Sasuke and Sai oddly hit it off in their own strange way? There's a moment of tension between them on their first amicable reintroduction, but Sasuke has a much easier time communicating with him than Naruto and Sakura did upon meeting Sai. Even if Sasuke is wildly thrown off by the explicit and straight forward thing Sai often says.

As for Naruto and Sakura? They’re his most important people, always have been, even if he had to deny it to himself and others for years. Reconnecting with them isn’t... hard, but it’s awkward. Navigating this once familiar space, a space he spent so long rejecting feels strange and sometimes he feels ashamed or embarrassingly unworthy.

This entire relationship is built on the idea that he never genuinely tried to kill either Naruto or Sakura. It was either him putting on a show or him trying to convince himself he could, but he never would have gone through with it.

Sasuke also has much more meaningful moments with both of them individually where he apologizes to them. The terrible things he’s done and said are addressed and he makes it a goal to repent.

Sasuke enjoys talking about medical things with Sakura. He heard and learned a lot about medical science - especially dubious practices - while aligned with Oto, so they bond over talking about how fucked up some of the stories Sasuke shares. Sasuke gets a kick out of her mutual disgust, indignation, and reluctant intrigue. He also takes special interest in things she has to share about eyes.

While Sasuke will never not be Sasuke, his rekindling friendship with Naruto is, for the first time, not based on a foundation of pride and resentment. Naruto is still loud and annoying at times, but there’s also a feeling of freedom when they’re together. There’s nothing hanging over their heads anymore.

Nearing the end of his year, Sasuke begins to get increasingly restless. He's made wonders in his progress, but a lot of demons still pull at his subconscious.

He begins taking missions out of the village again, he and Sakura grow closer romantically, and life settles into something resembling peaceful, but the nagging itch that he's not doing enough is a persistent one.

In this AU, everyone doesn't settle into married life and have kids so early. Everyone has a bit more time as adults, a bit more time to figure themselves out and to court each other, before some of them finally have families years down the line.

During this, Sasuke catches wind of more and more ugliness in the world. He organizes with Tsunade to allow him to spend more time on long term missions targeting and working to uproot systems of severe crimes like human trafficking and slavery, something we see him doing a bit of in canon.

These missions can sometimes yield child victims and he corresponds regularly with Sakura and her health centers to organize for them to be taken in.

He's back and forth between Konoha and his missions over the years. Gone no where near as often as in canon, but sometimes gone for months at a time for particularly deep missions, but still works as a regular Leaf ninja on call for missions when he's home.

He does still struggle with a feeling of obligation and guilt sometimes due to his actions in the past, and there was maybe one year where he tried to isolate himself from the village partly for these reasons, another being because he felt his Sharingan drew enemies, but Naruto and Sakura set him straight. There weren’t about to him spiral back down to that abyss.

He is often accompanied by Naruto, Sakura, Sai, Lee, Anko, and a number of other of his friends in numerous situations over the years. He also accompanies Sakura on her rounds to check on centers' progress from time to time.

Team Taka no longer works with Orochimaru (because fuck that noise, is Orochimaru even alive in this AU??), and maybe join Konoha or work in Konoha affiliated establishments? (What do they do?? What are their goals??? Who knows, haven’t thought that far ahaha) Karin probably connects with Naruto over their shared Uzumaki lineage. Juugo might work in one of Sakura’s centers.

By the time Sasuke and Sakura finally decide to get married they've had years to address their pasts and spend time together.

It's when Sakura gets pregnant that Sasuke begins to reevaluate just exactly where he wants to be in life. He's spent so many years fighting. He's been fighting for recognition, revenge, redemption since before he was eight years old and realizes he... he's tired.

He's never allowed himself to rest because he's always felt like there was something he was supposed to be doing. And he realizes he doesn't want to fight to feel allowed to exist anymore.

He wants... He wants to be there for Sakura. He wants to be there for his baby. And with a little help from the Sakura and Anko, he learns that that's *okay*. That despite all the ugliness still out there, he has a right to put his own desire to be with his family first, that he can trust the good people in his life to take on the responsibility of helping save the world while he takes time to be there for the ones who need him.

Bonus Headcanons that come with this AU:

Hinata is still a ninja

Neji is alive

Tsunade is Hokage for longer instead of stepping down to let Kakashi take over

Mom aged Hinata get a Better Haircut

Yamato isn’t Orochimaru’s keeper

Konoha doesn’t work with Orochimaru (Maybe he’s dead? Maybe Kabuto takes his place?)

#domestic sasuke au #sasuke uchiha #uchiha family #naruto #naruto au #boruto #sakura haruno #anko mitarashi #naruto uzumaki #idk if I should tag others because they're just mentioned?#I don't plan on having them really be on this blog #do they NEED tags?#I'll go back and tag this and I see fit #long post #stills #mod post #mod speaks #world building

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mrsspidermanmaryjanewatsonparker · 6 years

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Amazing Spider-Man: Renew Your Vows Vol 2 #6-7 Thoughts

Previous thoughts here.

Okay I’ve finally caught up to where I left off with RYV in 2017 so these are my thoughts on the X-Men arc.

I have very mixed feeling about this arc depending upon what POV I look at it from.

As a general story unto itself and an instalment in this series it was pretty great.

However in the context of an AU series with a limited shelf-life as is and in a context when Spider-Man had so often been sharing the spotlight (and the Spider-Marriage hadn’t been seen) making what amounted to a standard paint by numbers X-Men story just from the Parker’s POV was very questionable even if I like the X-Men.

Finally from the POV of a guy who likes the X-Men but isn’t hardcore but is very much in love with 90s X-Men (which this version is based upon) my feelings are very mixed.

And that boils down to what I love about the X-Men and that era of the X-Men vs. how Conway apparently feels about them.

But let’s get general perennial opinions out the way. I’ve grown to begrudgingly accept the conceit of this series as a Spider Family book and a book where we are just going to ignore the child endangerment issues at play. But i’ve spoken about that before in my older coverage of issues #1-5. Similarly in those issues and it still holds true for this arc, Stegman is the goddam man when it comes to the artwork.

Whilst there was one panel in which he tried to draw MJ shocked and upset and it came off just goofy, over all the artwork in this arc was stunning and I genuinely said ‘wow’ out loud when I got to the splash page of Spider-Man and Wolverine.

Keeping on the visuals for a moment, I goddam love the costumes chosen for the characters here. Yes even the reimagined looks for Toad, Crucible and Mist Mistress.

Obviously I don’t talk X-Men here much but I adore the 1990s X-Men costumes from the 1992 cartoon, which originated under Jim Lee. And honestly they genuinely are among the most iconic and visually dynamic looks for the characters so it’s not purely personal preference. This is especially resonant for me with Wolverine. Spider-Man is my favourite (American comic book) character and following him are various Spider-Verse characters like MJ, Norman Osborn, Ben Reilly, Mayday, etc.

But outside of those Spider-Verse characters, Wolverine is my absolute fav Marvel character and it’s always annoyed me that Marvel were like embarrassed to put him in his classic Giant-Sized X-Men uniform once Whedon began writing X-Men.

That is THE iconic Wolverine look and in this story Stegman brought it back baby!

Similarly I appreciated that the Magneto of this story both looked and acted like classic Magneto. Not the aweful black and silver shit he was wearing around this time in the comics and I’ve never been fond of him as a good guy member of the X-Men.

Honestly, whilst I get it was well executed character development, Magneto is inherently more interesting as a morally grey antagonist for the X-Men than among their ranks. So much of the core premise of X-Men is built around the fundamental philosophical conflict between Magneto’s beliefs and Xaviers that you lose a not insignificant chunk of the essence of X-Men when you put them on the same side. Not to mention in a superhero story you want strong characters as antagonists and Magneto is arguably the best X-Men villain, scratch that best comic book villain, ever.

Okay now let’s chat story.

I wasn’t pleased with the deaths in this. Banshee might be few people’s fav but Beast was and in both cases their quick shock deaths were unearned and unworthy. Kind of overly dark to be honest with you given the nature of the RYV book and it gave the impression that Conway isn’t fond of either character.

But that sentiment shines through far more poignantly with Jubilee and Cyclops. Whilst Cyclops gets screwed over slightly less badly than he did in the X-Men movies, the same problems occur. He gets undermined in favour of Wolverine and so Logan and Jean can be shipped together. Which is only a different flavour of frustrating if you LIKE the Cyclops/Jean relationship as I do, than when Jean got screwed over so Scott and Emma could hook up. I still despise that.*

But at least this was kind of believable, at least to me. No X-Men expert so maybe their break up was OOC, but the idea that Cyclops and Jean broke up because Jean didn’t have faith in controlling her Godlike powers whilst Cyclops did is an interesting piece of relationship drama. And at least the characters in RYV didn’t get fucked as hard as they did in the 2000s.

Still you can kind of tell Conway isn’t a big fan of Cyclops (understandable he has his haters, I hate 2000s-2010s Cyclops) but you can equally tell he really doesn’t like Jubilee.

Again, not an X-Men expert here but I’m pretty sure Jubilee being a traitor to the X-Men and being disillusioned by Xavier’s methods is immensely OOC for her character.

Now that isn’t that big of a deal because this is an AU at the end of the day. But if you like Jubilee or just know her character then it will probably annoy you. Unfortunately for one reason or another Jubilee in my observations seems to get a lot of hate that Kitty Pryde and X-23 don’t and I do not understand why.

In the cases of both characters I could tell instantly that Conway was setting one of them up to be the traitor and honestly if you are doing an AU book, Cyclops is kind of the more interesting choice although I grant you maybe not in the context of 2010s Cyclops who already murdered Xavier in AvX and has been a douchebag for a long time. But in the context of this story and 1990s X-Men which this story is trading off of, it’s the more interesting choice. I will give it to Conway though for at least bothering to give us 2 suspects. These days most writers wouldn’t even bother with that and just think they were being subtle when they have Jubilee say shit like “Maybe your human friend wouldn’t like you if she knew you were a mutant!”

On some final notes about the X-Men themselves I feel like there was maybe something more interesting you could’ve done with Jean and Wolverine’s child than what we got with Shine. In her personality and powers she could be any one of the army of Summers/Grey children or any given generic mutant. There is no Wolverine in her to be seen.

That’s not me inherently hating her. She’s just more of a missed opportunity. She was adorable unto herself and even moreso in her relationship with Annie and I hope that gets revisited in consequent issues.

My final little note regarding the X-Men themselves was that I didn’t care for Magneto being mind controlled at the end or his over all plan.

Okay, it’s more like I felt his plan was underdeveloped. Because it’s not that it didn’t make sense because it was literally the same plan from X2: X-Men United. But Conway basically expected you to have just known that because of the visuals and results of the plan. And for comic book and comic book movie fans like me, sure I know the shorthand but it’s not good storytelling. Similarly Emma Frost shows up at the end, barely talks but just kind of takes over as the main villain when Magneto had been the guy built up in the story and...he, he’s Magneto dude. That’s like having Puppet Master show up towards the end of a story where Doom’s been the main villain and take over.

Also doesn’t his helmet shield him from psychic control? I mean again it’s an AU and I feel like that wasn’t established until way later about Magneto but still.

I also wanna talk about how this arc more than anything else just blows up the continuity between RYV volume 1 and volume 2.

In RYV vol 1 #1 it was a big deal that the X-Men got wiped out by Regent and the implication was that the universe diverged in the early-mid 1990s.

In this arc though it’s made crystal clear that obviously the X-Men are fine and that in this universe (the dumpster fire clusterfuck that was) Civil War 2006 was avoided.

Which is again an example of Conway subtly saying screw you to stuff he doesn’t like but I don’t mind that because yeah screw Civil War it was hot trash. But it does make RYV volume 1 way more confusing in terms of continuity, especially since literally no other post-Secret Wars ongoing series (including X-Men ’92) seemed to radically alter their universe after the event like RYV did.

Honestly I think the only way to have it make sense is to just say RYV volume 2 is an alternate version of the RYV volume 1 characters and that prior to volume 2 a guy called the Regent showed up, stole some people’s powers then Spider-Man and his family stopped him. He didn’t kill anyone, he didn’t take over the world, he wasn’t trying to kill God Emperor Doom or whatever and the world didn’t know who Spider-Man was by the end of it.

This actually jives way better with what Houser would later establish in her run on RYV that Annie isn’t a daughter Peter and MJ had INSTEAD of Mayday, but in fact the daughter they would’ve had if OMD hadn’t fucked everything up. I guess in the RYV universe though Spider-Man never joined the Avengers and fashion was stuck in the 1990s even in the 2000s.

I’m not complaining I’m just trying to get all this stuff straight.

Okay let’s move onto the Parker family.

I loved the payoff to issue #2 with MJ planning a party and it turning out to be for Peter’s birthday. That was the best scene in the whole story. Normal life drama with supporting characters we know and love. This is the heart of Spider-Man! And it came with adorable scenes like Annie confronting the horror of gluten free desserts and acknowledgments of Aunt May and Aunt Anna’s deaths.

The heart of the story was the stuff related to whether Peter and MJ should make Annie stay at the Xavier school or not and the scenes exploring this were really good.

Spider-Man deal with relatively relatable everyday issues and failing that stuff that s clearly allegorical to said issues. In this case Annie’s powers are allegorical to a kid with a disability, special learning issues, or someone with a particular aptitude for learning that would make a normal school more challenging.

Special props goes to Peter relating to how he struggled in school and not wanting that for Annie. In MJ’s case though she wants to keep her daughter close. This makes sense retroactively when you consider she’s already lost one child and if you pretend RYV vol 1 happened then she spent years keeping Annie close out of fear that she died.

Putting those aside though it could be a commentary upon MJ’s own childhood growing up where she was constantly being uprooted and saw her family and her sister’s family fall apart. For MJ it’s likely very important that the family unit stay close together.

Conway’s writing shines because he organically (albeit not as subtly as he could) has them switch positions creating yet more potential conflict and makes sure Annie has her own view on the matter. She likes the school, she likes Shine but she doesn’t want things to change and justifies this in a childish way by making out a popular kid in her school is a bigger deal than she actually is.

My major point of condemnation though is that I feel way more could’ve been done with the premise (e.g. having MJ and Jean connect over super powered kids) than actually was because so much of the plot is dominated by villains invading the Xavier school for the umpteenth time.

Actually goes into two other problems with the arc. This is an incredibly generic X-Men storyline because obviously it’s from a Spider-Man perspective. Like if an X-Men story tried to present a window into the world of Spider-Man it’d be a typical thing about him making rent, working for Jameson and missing a date or whatever. It’s like default setting X-Men and whilst I like that because I miss those days before X-Men became a clusterfuck, it’s not the most compelling main plot in the world.

And honestly it wraps up too quickly and easily, MJ just decks Emma Frost and the story is done. Annie and Peter don’t get involved enough which is weird because isn’t this a team book? I mean as the story highlights it makes Mj look cool but I don’t like doing that at the expense of the other characters.

Now in fairness that might’ve been set up for the next arc, which I know is about MJ becoming Venom. The last page or two of the arc implies this because it features an overtly villainous Liz Allan.

At first I raised my eyebrow at this. Around that same time Liz had been presented as evil in the 616 books and I thought this might’ve been lame out of nowhere synergy.

But in thinking about it, if this really is a Liz Allan who is recently went through the stuff she dealt with in DeMatteis’ Harry Osborn arc from the 1990s (as is the implication) then Liz would be a darker person, would be more hard hearted to protect her son and she wasn’t the nicest person to the Parkers at that time.

Although issue #4 had MJ refer to Normie as creepy implying the Osborns and Parkers generally aren’t all that close in this universe.

Regardless Liz with the Venom symbiote targeting MJ and having the there be an explicit thematic connection between them via their shared motherhood was a darkly delicious moment.

As many mixed feelings as I have for this arc over all I give it a solid B.

*Hence I personally also loved Emma Frost just being a plain villain and getting decked by MJ because I goddam hate Emma Frost I really do.

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snicketsleuth · 6 years

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Slackin’ with the Sleuth: Reviewing Netflix’s “The Austere Academy”

Writing a season opener is an ungrateful task: once you have recapped the previous year of plot and set up the precious exposition, there is usually not much left to enjoy. That being said, this installment could very well be the weakest double-episode so far: it struggles to start the running B-plot of the season to the point that it forgets to be an adaptation of a particular book, or even a basic episode of a streaming television series. It is, quite frankly, a mess with some fantastical bits. But the sum feels less worthy than the amount of its parts.

At this point the Netflix series has fundamentally changed the basic narrative structure which befits the story. It is strange to remember that the books closely follow the point of view of the Baudelaire orphans and never leave their side. Of course, this story is told by a tangential narrator who frequently interrupts the tale of the children to make allusions to his own life… but “allusions” remain the key word there. Daniel Handler even had to release supplementary materials (“The un-Authorized Autobiography”, “The Beatrice Letters”, etc.) to clear up parts of the plot which couldn’t have been included in the main series itself, as it needed to focus on its protagonists. And that is precisely what the Netflix adaptation loses here: focus. We are dealing with an ensemble cast off to its own particular adventures, its own separate plotlines. The camera moves from one protagonist to the next like a player over chess pieces, leaving little time for the characters to breathe.

And it is unfortunately for that reason that Duncan and Isadora become even more forgettable than they are in the books. Several key dialogs from the books, intended to work up their charm, were omitted (the initial confusion of the Baudelaire orphans over the twin/triplet controversy, Duncan’s pyrophobia, the wild dreams of the printing house: etc. Most of the charm of “The Austere Academy”, as a book, is the opportunity for the Baudelaire orphans to relate to another set of people who have fallen in similar circumstances, to find some manner of community. Its adaptation has no time to explore that. Given the importance of the triplets in later episodes, it is honestly dumbfounding that the writers didn’t take more time to establish them as characters. Especially considering the great work they did to develop more secondary players like Georgina, Babs or Hal, not to mention non-entities such as Gustav. The next episodes cannot make up for this as Duncan and Isadora are limited to a much stricter screen-time, because of plot constraints.

It is natural that the writers would fall in love with characters/relationships they essentially created or introduced for the show… but a line must be drawn when it comes at the expanse of preexisting characters. What, indeed, did the actions of the V.F.D. supervisors amount to? There is not much point to Olivia Caliban’s character in this episode, and even then, little which could not have been accomplished just as well by the character of Jacquelyn Scieszka. Larry’s quest is ultimately pointless as the Baudelaire orphans never really get to browse the contents of the book he’s trying to deliver. Jacques Snicket’s earlier introduction is, however, a welcome and even necessary invention. His death in the books has shock value yet nothing else, as the reader knows nothing about him. The Netflix show instead sets him up as likeable support primed for heartbreak.

Lemony’s monologue in his brother’s car is admittedly the best scene in “The Austere Academy”. Patrick Warburton delivers the perfect emotional cues without breaking from his usual flair. His admission of how much he misses Jacques, who we can still hear whistling nonchalantly, goes down as one of the most emotional scene in the adaptation. A perfect testament to the narration of the books. The talent of the writing team never leaves the screen for a second, it’s just… misdirected.

Speaking of characters, it’s about time we address the real star of this episode… And as strange as it may seem, sometimes an actor can be too good. Kitana Turnbull is adorably obnoxious and obnoxiously adorable as the infamous Carmelita Spats, but at what cost? She acts Malina Weissman and Louis Hynes under the table. Baudelaires and Quagmires look stiff and awkward next to her. Even her singing sounds too harmonious. We should NOT be looking forward to the sound of Carmelita’s voice, she’s supposed to be annoying! The writers even felt obligated to have Violet begrudgingly admit her recitals are “improving”. That being said, two hours of “The Carmelita show (starring those cakesniffing orphans)” is far from an unpleasant experience. Although Carmelita only becomes Olaf’s sith-in-training much later in the series, introducing their dynamic right off the bat is a great idea. The show even suggests a possible etymology for the word “cakesniffer”, whose exact meaning remains a mystery in the books. The answer is both blunt and traumatizing.

We should also not forget Roger Bart’s performance as Vice Principal Nero, which deserves just as much praise. The secondary players of “A Series Of Unfortunate Events” are tricky parts, as they rely so much on caricature. Finding some warmth, some internal struggle to sell the character as more than a bland cardboard cut-out is no easy task, but Bart undoubtedly succeeds. It is only while watching the episode that I understood the point of Nero’s character in the books; he is very much Daniel Handler’s dark alter-ego, a somber reminder of the bitter maniac he could have become had he not succeeded as a writer. You have to give credits to the writing team for trying to expand on these characters while retaining as much of their original lines as possible.

As usual Neil Patrick Harris expanded Olaf’s disguise-of-the-week in interesting ways, and Coach Genghis could perhaps be the most ambitious yet. He retooled the character persona as a mix of Hitlerian youth leader and self-actualization guru, all in the name of “school spirit”. The end result is strikingly similar to several criticisms made on the education system in other books (“The Basic Eight”, “Why We Broke Up”, etc.). The social satire of the original series lost nothing of its bite. If anything, it’s coming back with a vengeance. Putting Genghis’ arrival at Prufrock as the mid-episode ending was definitely a mistake, however. Olaf has already come back to torment the Baudelaire orphans under three disguises at this point, therefore the revelation of a new one is not much to fuss about.

And if we have to really put our cards on the table, I suppose I should once again speak of the worst, most damageable aspect of the Netflix series: its music. No, scratch that; its sound design. The series is extremely fast-paced and dialogue-heavy. With Lemony’s narration already commenting on everything, putting so much music into every single scene is the worst possible choice the directors could have made. It drowns out the lines of dialog, which become difficult to follow, and every scene feels, looks and sounds the same: accordion and klezmer everywhere. There is, to put it simply, no pacing and no ambiance. It’s heartbreaking to see so much money wasted on expensive sets when you know it’s going to get ruined by the same cursed accordion notes.

On that regard, there were clearly some budget accommodations made on this episode. The director of “The Miserable Mill” simply made Prufrock Prep way too big: its exterior layout makes it look big enough to house a thousand students, but we only ever see a hundred of them at the pep rally… And the cafeteria can only seat two dozens.

More new musical themes could have helped. It’s really more of a general complaint, but it’s especially bad in “The Austere Academy”. Nero’s terrible recitals actually act as welcomed pauses in the pacing, since they require silence in the background. But the worst offender has to be that final scene before the midway point: as Genghis is about to introduce himself on stage, the Quagmires cry out to the Baudelaires, who can’t hear them because of how much noise the crowd is making. But we don’t even really hear the crowd making a ruckus: the accordion music is louder, it just sounds and feels exactly like every other scene, noisy environment or not. Therefore the viewer can’t really understand why the Baudelaires and Quagmires can’t communicate. It’s a painful and spectacular failure of sound mixing.

The entire ordeal is a cacophonic catastrophic in that it robs several key scenes of their intended emotional resonance. The Quagmire’s final capture is but one many dark and dramatic moments in the plot on which the Netflix adaptation fails to capitalize. It’s nowhere near as bad as the humorous trombone played over Josephine Anwhistle’s death scene, but it’s getting close. So far “The Austere Academy” retains too much of the original books’ contents, and understands them too well, to deliver anything but great television… but it succeeds in the details rather than the big picture. If only it could be the other way around!

#review #ASoUE #a series of unfortunate events #Lemony Snicket #asoue netflix #netflix #count olaf #violet baudelaire #klaus baudelaire #Sunny Baudelaire #neil patrick harris #0535

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theonceoverthinker · 6 years

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OUAT 1X20 - The Stranger

Hey, stranger!

Meet me under the cut to read my thoughts on this episode!

Press Release August promises to enlighten Emma and take her on a journey that will show her how she can beat Regina, and possibly take custody of Henry; and with Mary Margaret returning to work, Regina puts a plan in motion to seduce David. Meanwhile, in the fairytale land that was, with the Evil Queen’s curse about to strike, Geppetto agrees to a plan that will save Snow White and Prince Charming’s daughter, but with a proviso that could also save his own son. General Thoughts Past Gepetto is the shining beacon of this episode. I love the lengths he goes to to protect Pinocchio and the dark places he goes to in the process. I also give the episode a lot of credit for showing so much of Gepetto and Pinocchio together in the earlier bits of the flashback. We see the selfless nature of Pinocchio that grants him his humanhood and seeing the two of them bond a bit make Gepetto’s blackmail so much more tragic and understandable. That said, while I love the way he emotionally blackmails Jiminy into helping him out, I do feel like it would’ve been a touch stronger had we seen their friendship a bit more in the second flashback scene. Wow, that scene with Pinocchio really didn’t do it for me. See, I get that Pinocchio left Emma and I can understand why. He was roughly 7-9 years old and a baby is a big responsibility, especially when you’re in a new land and are a kid. But I wish that we had seen more of a lingering effect of tension with Pinocchio taking care of Emma other than just one guy who was mean to him. I feel like an additional flashback scene would’ve come in handy here - one with Pinocchio taking care of Emma and one of him being exhausted after some time had passed, being told off, and then having the offer to leave. Because as it stands, Pinocchio only has that one bad encounter that takes maybe ten seconds total with a nothing character to take him away from a baby he cares about and a promise he made to his Papa. Present I find that the scene at the tree between Emma and August was a better version of Jefferson’s speeches from “Hat Trick.” Because August - in addition to being an established character, now ten episodes in the making - is Emma’s friend. Because he’s already earned a great deal of her trust and is implementing evidence (Something that he knows will better help her believe), it feels more like an earned discussion. And while I’ll take my objections with it in the next episode, I find that August demanding that Emma step up and be the Savior works better because his motivations are more selfish.

Also, I like how Emma’s desperation is playing out in the background of the episode as Gold and August continue to fail her, culminating in such a crazy and off the charts decision to abduct Henry. It’s a great moment where it’s completely indefensible both in-universe and to an Emma fan like me and the fallout in the next episode is so well-earned for a WTF decision like that, making me feel like the writers knew damn well what they were doing. Insights -That is the coolest door lock ever and I want it soooooo badly! -”My kid needs me. I don’t have time for faith.” Say what you want about Emma, but my girl has her priorities in check! -I know people have their problems with OUaT’s effects, but they’ve always managed to capture water so well. Whether it’s practical or in CGI, it’s both realistic and beautiful. -Alongside those lines, the Pinocchio wooden toy is so expertly crafted. Given how it’s only in a handful of scenes, it’s really impressive that they went to such efforts to make it tangible. -Regina, making everyone use those old school phones that take forever to reach someone was the most vile part of this curse! -There’s such a great stark contrast between Mary Margaret from the pilot and now. Back in the first episode, she could barely talk to Regina without getting barked at, but the tables have turned so drastically. It speaks to her development over the past 19 episodes, and what’s even better is that she retains her ability to forgive, an aspect of Snow that is such a big part of her, especially in later seasons. -Damn! Henry’s determination is really something else here! While I definitely feel for Regina (It must be awful seeing the child you raised turn on you and call you evil, not matter how true it actually is), Henry has clearly reached a limit and given that Regina actually did frame Mary Margaret, I can’t help but feel some catharsis out of that speech. -Gold, you bastard! That was so douchey, and I am cracking the fuck up! It’s probably some more catharsis, and not unjustified catharsis given August’s ploy in the last episode! He’s now just having all the fun in the world dicking around with August and while I love August, it’s so entertaining to watch! Oh! And when you see the clock, it all gets so much sadder! SO MANY FEELS! -To be fair, Pinocchio, I don’t blame you for tying up Jiminy. -Emma and Rumple just have the best discussions! I like how blunt Emma is with her demands and like Henry, she’s determined as hell! -I wonder if Regina got that rocky road from a certain Snow Queen. ;) -It only occured to me now that August’s presence was foreshadowed in the first episode. Why else would Gepetto speak of not having a child when in the previous scene in the pilot, he clearly did? -Regina’s fake story about finding David is like the evil version of Michael’s letter to Jane in Season 3 of “Jane the Virgin.” It reflects on themes of meant-to-be and coincidences. Also, I have to wonder how much of that story was improvised and how much of it had she planned beforehand. -The effects are on a roll here! I love how the tree in our world all but cracks open as Pinocchio enters our world. As a side note, it’s really lucky that humanity hadn’t built over his landing spot. Imagine that happening to Pinocchio at a Starbucks! XD -There’s such a sad contrast between the “fake” reunion in the past episode and the real one here. The “fake” one while...well, fake is so honest and upfront. You just know that that’s the kind of reunion August would want with his Papa, and in this episode, it’s so calm and lowkey, but tragic because it’s on a bed of lies. -Oh, Emma. That was a terrible idea! I get where you’re coming from girl, but...no! Arcs The Mystery of August Booth - Finally, all is revealed! I’m glad that they got the reveal out of the way earlier in the episode so that we could spend the rest of the runtime exploring his past and present relationships. It really helped to define August as a character. As for the reveal, it was always an engaging mystery that revealed just enough to make August’s character engaging, but not enough that the answer would become obvious. This may just be one of the most underrated twists in all of OUaT for that reason. Favorite Dynamic August and Gold I love how much resentment Gold has towards August and the petty and hurtful ways he lets it out. At the same time though, the two begrudgingly work together knowing that they’re the only other padults that they have on their side, and they’re surprisingly good at doing it. Because of that, how they work together and interact is so amusingly petty and yet coopertaive all the same and it makes me wish we could have seen more reluctant team ups between them. Their relationship is definitely a proto Season 3 Golden Hook, albeit toned down significantly due to circumstances. Writer Awww! It’s Andrew and Ian’s last episode of the season! These guys were a real treat. Their dialogue is fantastic and their theming, while it doesn’t match Fruit’s, works well here because both the latter past segments and the present segments show how far he’s fallen from his virtues and the emotional as well as physical consequences of that. But, they do a good job keeping August likable by showing just how much effort - genuine effort - he’s making to get Emma to believe here. Additionally, these guys know how to use just the right character at just the right moment. Nothing ever feels over or underused. Rating 9/10. We got an excellent exploration of character here. August comes out of this episode fully fleshed out and his dynamic with Emma really pegs home the danger that everyone is in going into the final two episodes. The pacing of the story gives us a fun adventure and every character featured has something to do or contribute to the story. I took a point off for the weak scene in the foster home as that’s supposed to be so much better than it ended up being.

()()()()()()()()()()()()

Thank you for reading and to the fine folks at @watchingfairytales for putting this together! Next time: We talk about fruits. How about apples?

Season Tally (176/220) Writer Tally for Season 1: A&E (50/70) Liz Tigelaar (17/20)* David Goodman (33/50) Jane Espenson (46/60) Andrew Chambliss and Ian Goldberg (38/40)* Daniel Thomsen (8/10)* Vladimir Kvetko (9/10)* (* = Their work for the season is complete)

Operation Rewatch Archives

#ouat #once upon a time #watching fairytales #ouat 1x20 #ouat rewatch #jenna watches ouat #basically every character in this episode is discussed

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speckledspout · 7 years

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the echo of solidarity desire

square filled: collars ship: jared/jensen rating: explicit ao3 link tags: collars, semi-public blow jobs, dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics summary: "If Jared wasn’t wearing the collar then they were equals, one didn’t dominate the other however whenever Jared put the collar on, that’s when the power seemed to shift. Still, if Jared was only wearing the collar, if it wasn’t locked in place, Jared still had a say in things. A tiny say, one that Jensen could easily overrule if he so chooses but he wasn’t completely powerless. The moment though that Jensen slips the key into the lock, clicking it shut, that’s when Jared is nothing more than a thing that Jensen can play around with." word count: 4.5k+ a/n: unbetaed and unedited. as always, thoughts, comments and opinions are always welcomed. i don’t know where all these words came from. i started writing and then i couldn’t seem to stop. written/created for @spnkinkbingo

The hair around his ears curls when he sweats. The moisture messing up the work that the hair and makeup people worked hard to style it in the way that Sam Winchester would have it. It was one of the first things that Jensen noticed about his co-star upteen years ago; the fact that Jared’s hair curled more than what people would imagine. That and the boy sweat like it was constantly a hundred degrees outside with just as high humidity.

It frames his face, making him look impossibly young and it always makes Jensen’s stomach clench in ways that make him feel like a teenage boy.

Jared mewled into the mattress, fingers digging into the sheets as he pushed back up against Jensen, silently begging for more. However he wasn’t going to open his mouth and plead simply for the fact that Jensen told him to keep quiet. So he did what he could, meeting each one of Jensen’s thrust, pushing back more and more when Jensen got deeper and deeper.

That night, Jensen had gone out, seen the town, hung out with a couple members of the band while Jared decided to stay in under the guise that they had a long flight and he wanted to get a few more hours before the long day of convention activities that they had in store for them the next day.

Jensen frowned at the prospect of having to go out without his partner in arms but he had already promised and he couldn’t call it off. So, begrudgingly, he kissed Jared farewell with the promise that the moment that he could get away, he would.

What Jensen didn’t expect was to walk into the room a couple hours later with Jared on his knees, ankles crossed and hands clasped behind his back with his head bent and the leather collar laying on the ground in front of him, just waiting to be clasped around his neck.

Wordlessly, Jared looked up at Jensen, knees aching from where had been waiting on the ground for so long but he would wait there for hours if that’s what Jensen wanted.

Luckily for Jared’s knees, Jensen didn’t want that. He crossed the room in a couple of long strides, picked up the collar that was laid out for him and put it in its rightful place around Jared’s neck. He rested his fingers on the lock that was nestled right against the hollow of Jared’s neck, silently asking how far Jared wanted to go tonight.

Years ago, more than what Jared could remember, he came to Jensen one night, wringing his hands together and proposed the idea to Jensen, the idea to give Jensen complete and total control over him.

Jared expected Jensen to balk at the idea, recoil away from him. At the point that Jared had come to him, their relationship wasn’t new. Not really. They were rather familiar with each other and while Jensen was amazing in bed, he never really showed much interest in doing anything other than changing the position of which they had sex. So while Jared wanted Jensen to agree, he didn’t really expect him too.

However, Jared was genuinely surprised when Jensen nodded his head and said that if Jared wanted this, then he was willing to try it.

Jensen was the one who had bought the collar, presented it to Jared on night after filming with worry in his eyes as if he was scared that Jared wasn’t going to like the collar that he had picked out or that all of the sudden he wasn’t going to want to do this anymore.

That wasn’t the case. Jared wanted the domination, needed it. Craved it like he craved Jensen and he wanted nothing else than to be dominated by Jensen.

The rest came easy after that, rules established without them even having to be spoken.

If Jared wasn’t wearing the collar then they were equals, one didn’t dominate the other however whenever Jared put the collar on, that’s when the power seemed to shift. Still, if Jared was only wearing the collar, if it wasn’t locked in place, Jared still had a say in things. A tiny say, one that Jensen could easily overrule if he so chooses but he wasn’t completely powerless. The moment though that Jensen slips the key into the lock, clicking it shut, that’s when Jared is nothing more than a thing that Jensen can play around with.

Jared nuzzled into the hand that was cupping against his cheek and that was all the answer that Jensen needed.

He pulled the chain out from underneath his shirt that held the key to Jared’s collar and waited, just for a moment so that if Jared wanted to pull away, take the collar off or say that he didn’t want it locked he could but Jared closed his eyes, perfectly pliant and waited for the click that would signal complete obedience.

That had been hours ago. It had been hours since Jensen locked the collar into place and ever since then, Jensen used him in whatever way he seemed pleased.

At the moment though, Jared was on his stomach, his face turned to the side so that he could breathe while Jensen was plastered on top of him, mouthing at the knob of bone where his neck met his spine, slowly thrusting into him, not with much urgency, just tedious and every movement had a purpose.

Jared had lost count how many times he had come that night, might too caught up in the heat of the body on top of him and how sensitive he actually was. Every touch almost hurt, sent fire along his nerves yet he only wanted more.

Jensen was an expert at knowing how to edge Jared of hours, how to take him apart piece by piece until Jared wasn’t even sure of his own name.

The key that hung around Jensen’s neck was digging into his back, a constant reminder of who Jared belonged to and why he was currently sprawled out on his stomach, tears soaking the pillows under him, feeling as if he was surely about to die under Jensen’s fingers.

“You can come, Jay.” Jensen muttered into Jared’s spine. “I know you can. You’ve done so good for me tonight. So, so good.” Jared was beaming at the praise, even through the tears. “Just one more time, baby. Just come for me one more time. I know that you have it in you.”

Through the years, Jared was still astounded by the fact that Jensen seemed to know his body better than he did himself. He wasn’t sure how he managed it but before he knew it, he was coming under Jensen, biting into his arm to keep from screaming out because Jensen still hadn’t said that he could say anything yet.

His entire body was shaking, trembling with the aftershocks and he didn’t feel as Jensen stilled above him, biting into his shoulder as he came inside of him.

It wasn’t until he felt fingers carding through his hair, lips peppering kisses across his face and the sound of the lock clicking open shook him from his post-orgasm bliss. The collar fell to the bed beside them, coated in Jared’s sweat and already he was missing the constricting feel of it around his throat.

“You did so good, Jared.” Jensen cooed. “So good, baby. I’m proud of you.”

Jared smiled, a tired little thing that barely looked like anything but Jensen stored it away, keeping it alongside all the other smiles Jared sent his way. “I wanna wear it tomorrow.” Jared muttered, shifting closer next to Jensen, curling against him.

Jensen furrowed his eyebrows, cupping Jared’s face in his hands so that Jared would have to look at him. “Tomorrow? But tomorrow’s a con day.”

“I know.” Jared replied, this time the smile a little more cocky, a little more confident, a little more awake. “I wanna wear it through the panel tomorrow. Both of them.” His fingers searched out and wrapped around the key that Jensen always wore. “I want you to lock it.”

Jensen made a sound like a wounded animal and he had to take several moments to calm his heart. Just the thought of Jared being up on stage with all those fans in front of them and the collar snug around his neck, locked up tight and completely compliant to do whatever Jensen says.

“Fuck, Jay.” Jensen muttered, kissing Jared long and hard. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

“No.” Jared answered truthfully but he was still smiling. “But I was a guess.”

They fell asleep, curled up around each other, both anxious for the next day.

When Jensen woke in the morning, jarred awake by the blaring sound of the alarm clock that he had luckily set the moment that checked in, he rolled over, searching for the heat of Jared, wanting to sleep just a few more moments but the other side of the bed was empty, cold.

Groaning, he threw the blankets off his body, knowing that he needed to get ready for the day. His heart stuttered to a stop when he saw Jared kneeling at the bottom of the bed, arms once again behind his back. At trace of tiredness that Jensen had been feeling completely disappeared. They were really going to do this. They were going to do this today and he couldn’t actually believe it.

“You still… you still wanna do this, right?” Jared asked after a minute of Jensen not moving, uncertainty lacing his voice.

Jensen’s not sure if he’s ever moved out of bed on a con day faster than he did then. He dropped to his knees in front of Jared, grabbing his face and kissed him, relying each and everyone of his emotions that he was feeling through the simply action.

“Yes. Yes, I wanna do this.” He breathed. “You want to, too?” He knew the answer but he needed to hear it.

“I want you to control me. I don’t wanna think about anything today. I don’t wanna choose to do anything today. The clothes that I wear, I want it to be because you wanted me to wear them. The food that I eat, I want it to be because you thought that I needed it. I just… I just wanna be yours. Completely yours.” Jared said without an ounce of shame.

“You are going to be the death of me.” Jensen whispered. “Let’s take a shower and then I’ll put the collar on, alright?”

“It’s whatever you want.”

Jensen dropped his head and had to take a deep, deep breath to keep from throwing Jared back on the bed and completely ravishing his body. If he did that, they weren’t going to be coming out of the hotel room until late evening.

The shower was relatively tame, all things considered. Jared was fully prepared to drop to his knees and take the edge off of Jensen but Jensen wasn’t interested in that. At all. He ran the wash cloth all over Jared’s body, working out the knots that had formed the night before due to him having to keep still for so long. He washing his hair, using his own shampoo as opposed to the kind that Jared brought. Jensen cleaned himself quickly, not wasting anytime before he shut off the water and towel dried Jared off.

The collar was resting on the edge of the sink and Jared knelt down, staring up at Jensen as Jensen wrapped it around his neck and settled it into place. He didn’t lock it yet though which Jared wasn’t going to question. Jensen was still giving him this chance to back out if he wanted. He wasn’t, he was sure of that but he wasn’t going to rush it.

Even though Jensen gave confidence off in waves, there were things that he slowly needed to work up too and this seemed to be one of those things.

Controlling Jared outside of the bedroom, under the gaze of the prying eyes of the public.

Jared stayed there in the middle of the bathroom, still kneeling on his knees with his arms clasped behind his back, completely naked as Jensen got ready for the day. He watched as Jensen covered up every inch of glorious naked skin with denim and cotton.

Then Jensen tsked, signalling for Jared to rise and follow him back into the bedroom.

Jared kneeled back down at the foot of the bed where Jensen told him to stay as Jensen grabbed his bag and pulled out several articles of clothing that he wanted Jared to wear that day. When he found a piece that he liked, he laid it out on top of the bed in front of Jared, shooting a glance his way, giving Jared the opportunity to pick something else. Jared never did.

Jensen dressed him slowly, covering Jared in the clothes that he picked out. The last thing that was on the bed was a scarf that Jensen had gotten him for his birthday one year, the final thing that he would wear for the day. The thing that would cover up the collar so that only he and Jared knew that Jared was actually wearing the collar.

Before Jensen wrapped the scarf around Jared’s neck, he fished the key from out underneath his shirt and ran his fingers along the soft leather of the collar.

“You sure you really wanna do this?” Jensen asked, whispering because talking felt too loud. “We don’t have to lock it. We can…”

“Lock it.” Jared said simply, stretching out his neck so that Jensen could have easier access to it. “I want you to lock it.”

“Okay.” Jensen let out a deep breath, trying to still the thudding in his chest. “Okay. Yeah, okay.” The sound of the lock clicking was almost deafening, sounding completely different than it normally did when they did this. “You’ll be able to talk. Obviously. But everything you do today, it’s because I let you do it. Understand.”

Jared nodded.

Jensen tsked, a frown appearing on his beautiful face and Jared instantly felt like he had done something wrong. Obviously he had otherwise Jensen wouldn’t be frowning down at him looking disappointed.

“You know that I can’t hear your head rattle, Jared. Speak. I know you know how to use your words. Now, everything you do today is because I let you do it. Understand?” Jensen asked again.

“Yes.” Jared agreed.

“Yes… what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good boy, Jared.” The frown that was on Jensen’s face disappeared and was replaced with the smile that was always supposed to be there. Jensen brushed his fingers through Jared’s hair, brushing out the knots. “You will do everything I tell you do today, won’t you? No questions asked.”

“Yes sir.” Jared nearly purred out the response.

Jensen smiled even wider, pulling Jared up to his feet, wrapping his hand around the back of Jared’s neck and kissed him, long and hard.

They still had an hour to kill before they were due on stage for the morning panel and Jared didn’t question Jensen as Jensen led them away from the hotel and into a little breakfast diner right down the street.

Their waitress gave both of them a menu but the moment that she turned her back to take care of another table, Jared set his menu down, looking across the booth they were seated at to look at Jensen while he read over the menu, trying to decide what he wanted to eat and what he was going to order for Jared.

Even if Jared didn’t like what Jensen picked out for him, he wasn’t going to tell him. He was going to eat every single last bite. Finish it all simply for the fact that Jensen wanted him to eat it.

However, luckily, Jared didn’t have to lie about the fact that he didn’t like what he was ordered to eat. It was a mountain of food, no doubt. Jensen ordered him the breakfast platter which included just about every single breakfast food that someone could imagine in helpings that could feed an army and he ate every last bit.

Jared didn’t miss the way that Jensen seemed to smile when Jared took that last bite, leaning back in his seat with a smile on his own face.

“Are you ready?” Jensen asked once he paid for the ticket, leading Jared back outside towards where they needed to be in the next thirty minutes with a possessive hand planted in the middle of Jared’s back.

It was dangerous to be like this out in public. Especially on a convention weekend when the entire city was crawling with fans of the show. All it would take was for someone to notice who they were and the position that they were in and with smart phones nowadays and the always ready camera, their secret could be blasted on every social media page. It would be a nightmare for PR and he wasn’t sure what it would do for their career but the show had been on for over a decade now. It had a good run and in that moment, he couldn’t find himself to care if anyone found out.

They were lead into the green room, told that they were running a little behind so if they could just wait.

Jensen sat down on the couch that was positioned on the side of the room, resting his arm across the back and Jared fell to his knees, working his way in between Jensen’s thighs without any prompting.

Jensen ran his hand through Jared’s hair, just once as he shot a glance over at the door that could be opened at any moment. He gasped though when all of the sudden Jared leaned forward and mouthed at Jensen’s soft cock through his jeans. He returned his attention back to the boy who sat back on his heels with a smile on his face and an expectant look.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Jensen said with a smirk, already pulling down the zipper of his jeans. Jared glanced down as Jensen pulled his cock out of his boxers that was already slowly started to harden and then back up at his face, licking his lips, waiting for Jensen’s order. Jensen ran his hand through Jared’s hair again, resting his hand on the back of his head, pulling him closer. “Go ahead, baby boy. Suck.”

Jared licks his lips once more, just to get them wet before he leaned forward, hands resting on Jensen’s thighs when a hand on Jared’s shoulder pushed him back.

“Don’t make a mess.” Jensen warned, his voice just on this side of dangerous.

“Yes sir.” Jared said before he closed the little distance between the two of them and wrapped his lips around the head of Jensen’s cock. Jensen made a sound that sounded like he had just been punched and he leaned his head back, stretching out his neck enough that made the chain that held Jared’s key just a little more visible.

It’s always like heaven, the feeling of Jared’s mouth. Some kind of heaven that was placed on earth specifically for Jensen to experience in his mortal body. Jensen never got used to the feeling, the wet, heat that was Jared’s mouth. How Jared would close his lips around him and swallow him down like Jared’s throat was made to have Jensen’s dick down it.

Jared could feel himself growing hard in his own jeans, just from the dirty sounds falling from Jensen’s lips and he had no doubt that if Jensen kept it up, he could come from just those sounds.

If… Jensen allowed him too.

“You’re such a good boy, Jay.” Jensen purred, brushing his hands back through Jared’s hair, urging him to take him further down his throat. “Always so willing to swallow me down whenever I tell you too. Always willing to do what I say. Don’t know how I got so lucky to have you.” Jensen often did wonder who was looking down on him and who exactly gifted Jared to him.

Jared hummed at the praise, pulling nearly all the way off just to kitten lick at the tip of Jensen’s dick before taking him back into his mouth again.

“Such a pretty little cock slut, aren’t you. You just have to wrap your lips around something don’t you?” Jensen thrust up into Jared’s mouth as much as he could, hitting the back of Jared’s throat. He could already see the tears forming in the corner of his eyes. “Yeah. Keep that up, baby and I might let you come before we have to go out on stage.”

Jared flicked his eyes up towards Jensen, blinking the tears away.

That would be some kind of perfect torture. Him having to get Jensen off, making sure that he was happy and sated and relaxed while he had to go out there with the taste of Jensen still lingering in his mouth, hard enough to cut diamonds and pretend that everything was okay.

“You would like that, though, wouldn’t you? Maybe I should just send you out on stage just like this, so aroused that a simple touch would have you coming in your pants like a teenager.” Jensen chuckled, tightening his grip in Jared’s hair when Jared hollowed his cheeks around Jensen, making the tight heat around his dick even tighter. “Might just have to do that the next time we do this.”

Next time. Jensen said next time which, if he was thinking properly and was in his right mind then he would be ecstatic about the prospect of doing this again but at the moment he wasn’t thinking about the future. He was only thinking about the way that Jensen felt on his tongue and the controlled little thrust of his hips and the little grunts that slipped past Jensen’s lips when Jared sucked particularly at the right time.

The longer that Jensen sucked, the less and less controlled that his thrust became. Jared removed his hands from Jensen’s thighs and clasped them together behind his back, allowing Jensen to us his mouth just as he wanted too.

Jensen could feel the deep coil of want and desire growing tighter and tighter in his stomach and it was all too soon. He wanted to make this last. And if anyone asked him in that moment if he wanted to get caught, get caught having his dick shoved so far deep down Jared’s throat that you could see it pushing against the collar, his answer probably would have been yes.

He wrapped his fingers around the base of his cock to stave off the orgasm that was quickly approaching and pushed Jared off him again. That earned him a whine from Jared but Jared didn’t fight it. What Jensen wanted, he got.

“You want more, don’t you?” Jensen cooed. “Want it bad.”

“Yes sir.” Jared answered back, his voice sounding completely wrecked.

“Yeah, I can just see it in your eyes. My very own little cock whore.” Jensen leaned forward, grabbing Jared’s face with both hands and pulled him further up on his knees. He kissed him quick and dirty, pulling him up more and more while Jensen leaned back against the seat. “Want you in my lap, baby.”

Jared complied quickly, pushing up on shaky legs as he crawled into Jensen’s lap, straddling his waist. He braced his hands against Jensen’s broad shoulders, just waiting for an order on what to do next.

Jensen craned his neck upward to capture Jared’s mouth with his own while at the same time Jensen unzipped Jared’s jeans and pulled out his dick that was hard and already leaking.

“Shit, baby boy, you’re so wet for me.” Jensen groaned as he swiped his thumb over the head of Jared’s cock, wiping the bead of pre-cum.

Jared groaned, low and deep when Jensen wrapped his hand around the both of them. It honestly didn’t take long. The smell of Jared was intoxicating and Jensen could taste himself on Jared’s tongue and that underlying threat that anyone could walk in and find them like this, pushing Jensen over the edge much faster than he wanted to admit. Jensen came over his hand, only making the movements of his wrist even easier.

Jared was trembling against Jensen, shaking as he dug his fingers into Jensen’s shoulders to keep from coming. He was muttering something against Jensen’s lips, incoherent words that didn’t make sense but Jensen seemed to understand them perfectly nonetheless.

“You can come, Jared.” Jensen said simply, still moving his hand up and down Jared’s cock.

Jared buried his head in Jensen’s shoulder as he came, biting into Jensen’s collar bone through his shirt, making a mess of them both. Slowly they both came back down. Jensen brushed his hand through Jared’s hair, almost petting him as the shuddering came to a stop.

“You did so good for me, Jared.” Jensen praised. “Proud of you, baby.” Jared seemed to glow under the words. “But, baby, you made a mess of us both and we’re due on stage in a few minutes.”

Jared glanced down at Jensen’s hand, taking seconds to make up his mind for what he was going to do before he grabbed Jensen’s wrist and ran his tongue from Jensen’s wrist all the way to the tip of his fingers, licking away the come that coated it.

“Fucking hell, Jared.” Jensen groaned as Jared sucked his fingers into his mouth.

There was a knock at the door that caused both boys to jump away from each other, their hearts pounding through their chest and they tried to tuck themselves back into their jeans and look halfway decent.

“Jared. Jensen.” The voice on the other side of the door said. “We’re ready for you in two.”

“Okay.” Jensen squeaked out in reply, turning his gaze away from the door and back to the boy who was back on his knees in front of Jensen. Jensen smiled as he leaned forward and recaptured Jared’s lips. His fingers worked its way underneath the scarf and wrapped around the collar that was pressed snug against his throat. “You really would do anything I told you to do, wouldn’t you?”

Jared nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Even if I told you to get down on your knees and suck me off in the middle of the panel, in front of all those fans, in front of all those cameras and the press? Would you do that?” Jensen tucked a stray piece of hair behind Jared’s ear.

Jared swallowed thickly and Jensen could feel the way that the collar got tighter around his neck. “If that’s what you want, then I would do it. I would do anything for you.”

tagging: @justanothersaltandburn, @purgatoan, @corrupteddean, @pictures-over-words, @wetsammywinchester, @itsnotsammy, @golly-god, @bowlegdean, @ilostmyshoe-79, @the-mrs-deanwinchester, @oh-jesus-sammy, @ramblingmandean, @clearlylostmymind, @hes-my-brother, @silentsam, @nasleypurple, @nisaki-chan, @xdeanskittenx, @they-call-me-winchester, @random-fireworks, @spngirl00, @therealactualbatman, @fantasygeek, @jannalionheart, @winmance, @wincestytypeoflove, @waywardkitten

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#spnkinkbingo #collars #j2 #supernatural rpf #spn rpf #otp: texan husbands #mine #i'm tired and just wanna get this out

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guardianofjunmyeon · 7 years

Text

I’ve Got You (part 21)

Pairing: Jongdae x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Canon AU, Smut

Description: You work for SM as it’s public relations specialist, and Jongdae is one client that you have to deal with far too often. Sometimes though, he isn’t all that bad.

A/N: THIS IS THE END I HAD THE HARDEST FUCKING TIME WRAPPING THIS UP

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21.

“Admitting my mistake? Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“If you come forward and admit to your mistake then you’ll have the trust of the public. It’s better to be honest with your public than to foster a false sense of honesty. They want transparency. We can work to rebuild your reputation so long as we don’t lose their trust. If you send out a memo within your company letting them know the deal, I’ll help you create a press release that you can send out for the journalists.”

Your client nods along to your words as if they’re his saving grace. “Okay. I’ll do that. I’ll be back tomorrow with an outline for an apology and an explanation. Thank you so much!” You smile and watch him leave the small conference room with an energy he didn’t have when walking in an hour ago. It makes you feel good.

When you started freelancing, you never thought you’d feel as relaxed as you currently do. Nearly a full year has passed since you sent that text to Nari telling her that you were mistaken and it wasn’t any of your idols at that theater. That you’d been the person in the photo, and that you’d lost your common sense at the time in panic. That it was your fault.

A year since you were called into one of the management offices and they told you that you were fired.

A year since you felt like your world was crashing in and that you’d made a huge mistake by partially revealing your part in what was almost a catastrophe.

A year since the rumors died down once it was revealed that it was just (former) staff at the theater and there was no reason to be up in arms.

A year since you decided to take a 3-month-long break and go traveling abroad for the first time as an escape from the suffocating feeling in your chest that wouldn’t go away. A dream you’d had when you’d first started college, but put aside once you’d found that job. 3 months where you turned your phone off and deactivated various forms of social media as a means to “cleanse” yourself.

Whatever that was supposed to mean. It was torture to be honest.

That year…geez, you’re going to write that one down in your personal history books. The hardest year of your life you think. Change is never easy, and avoiding a huge scandal is even harder. But somehow, you survived. You made it out with minimal damage and damn it feels good to be happy where you are. Working at your own pace, with clients of your own choice.

With a boyfriend you somehow managed to keep even after the world damn near exploded…and told him you’d be unreachable for a few months.

Oh right! You check your cell phone for the time, and panic. You’re going to miss the ending of his radio appearance if you don’t pull it up on your laptop now. He’d told you this was an important one, but you’d had this meeting scheduled before he told you about this; you couldn’t cancel – not when he’d probably tell you everything he said when he comes over to your new apartment later.

Disappointment and then a bit of fear are distinct in your chest when you go to the website where his appearance was being aired, only to see everyone wrapping up and taking pictures as music plays in the background.

You’re going to get an earful when he finds out you missed it.

Your phone rings as you’re rushing to pack up your stuff. As expected, it’s Jongdae. You don’t even get a hi or hello. “Did you watch?” he asks – seemingly out of breath.

“No…as soon as I got out of the meeting it was ending. Did I miss much-”

“No!” he nearly bursts your eardrum at the volume of his voice. Your mental alarms immediately go off. “Ha, I mean no nothing at all. Hey, do you want to come over?”

You pull the phone away from your head to look at it with narrowed eyes. “…your place?” you ask hesitantly. He grunts and you frown to yourself. “Uh…sure. Is something…going on?”

He clears he throat and you can hear the shuffling in the background as he moves around, nervously you assume. “No,” he laughs. “Why would you think that?”

“You’re acting weird Jongdae. That’s why.” You deadpan.

His scoff is unconvincing. “I’m not!” the whine tacked on is even less so. “But you’ll come? Kyungsoo is trying a new recipe and all of the guys want to uhm…meet you I guess?”

“They want to…they’ve all met me before…” you pause outside of your car at his words. Why would they want to meet you? You’ve met all of them almost a thousand times when you worked at SM as a PR manager. Hell, you talked to each of them nearly every day while working for them.

He hums in frustration, “Yeah but…that was…it’s different now. That was as the scary publicist-”

“PR Specialist-”

“Okay whatever, scary PR lady. The point is they want to meet you…as my girlfriend.” he mumbles the latter end of his statement, but your chest blooms with heat.

A happy kind of heat that spreads throughout all of your body at the fact that he’s decided that meeting the members like this is a different thing. Months after you returned from your abrupt trip abroad, albeit, but you aren’t all that concerned with the amount of time that has passed. You were both latched on to one another at any given moment at your return, and the idea of meeting the members and each other’s parents hadn’t really crossed your minds. Not until recently at least.

You’d met his parents at a dinner they had at their home. Jongdae had finally gotten a break and his parents had been bugging him for months to bring you around. His mom was all too happy to meet you, showering you in compliments and coddling you as if you were her own daughter, while his dad would take any chance to learn about the things you liked and what Jongdae had managed to do to trick you into being with him. You immediately felt at home among his family.

He’d met yours when they’d made arrangement to come to town and visit you. You’d thrown together a meal and cleaned up your new apartment and even set up the guest room so they would have somewhere to sleep. Saying you were extremely stressed would be one hell of an understatement. You knew they would be nice, but they’re good at being nice and then turning around and revealing that they dislike him to you in private. Thankfully, everything went well and he charmed the fucking pants off your parents. He flattered your mom, brought gifts, and every answer he gave to your dad’s questions had seemed perfectly crafted. You parents wouldn’t stop talking about him when he left, and always ask to speak to him when they call now.

You fell in love with him all over again.

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” you ask teasingly into the receiver. A smile spreads confidently on your face as you climb in your car and drive home to get changed, feeling giddy and light.

“You know what, what am I talking about? We don’t need to have dinner, I can just come over to yours and we can forget I even-”

“Jongdae?”

“…yes?”

“I’ll come over and have dinner with you and the guys. Calm down, yeah? It’s not like I’m meeting your parents for the first time.”

“You’re only this calm because my mom loved you when you finally met last week!”

A laugh bubbles from deep in your chest. “I know right? It sucks, your parents are going to ask about me for the rest of your life. Guess you’re stuck with me huh?”

“Shut up,” he mumbles childishly.

A red light approaches, and you shift in your seat as you mess around with your radio. “Why are you so worried anyway?”

“I just,” a sigh “I have a weird feeling about this. Everyone was acting strange on the radio show, and out of everyone Baekhyun said to invite you and I know they’re going to say weird shit so-”

“Hey?” you interrupt “Breathe.” You inhale as an example and smile to yourself when you hear him follow. “I’m not scared or worried. Did you forget I’ve still got more dirt on them than anyone else ever will? I can handle my own.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive. I’ll come to dinner and meet them as your girlfriend and everything will be fine okay?”

“Alright…I love you. Do you know that?

“I do, and I love you too. I’ve gotta go now. Call me with the details later on!”

Dinner happens just as you figured it would. You get thrown questions that are meant to seem normal, but you know are being used to gauge how compatible you are with Jongdae. To see how far your buttons can be pushed outside of the office, to tease you and see whether you would fit within their already established dynamic. Loud laughs and conversation that comes easy helps you relax.

You’d never admit to his face that the idea of meeting the guys outside of the context of work might have freaked you out just a bit. Kyungsoo and Chanyeol end up making dinner, and you devour the meal gratefully.

You help Sehun clean off the table, after insisting that a good guest should help clean after a meal. Minseok joins not long after, and Jongdae begrudgingly assists only after guilt refuses to let him to watch you clean while he sits.

“We should all go out for drinks,” Junmyeon offers. He pulls up a place on his phone that they often frequent. You’re told that it’s okay to join; they haven’t had any trouble with fans or paparazzi there.

Actually interested in the idea, you perk up and open your mouth to agree to a round (or three) of drinks. Jongdae, however, has opposing thoughts. “You guys go ahead, I’m going to take her home.”

Your mouth closes softly. “No, you should both come with us. We’re celebrating you, right?” You figured you weren’t being invited to this dinner just as a casual thing, but hearing Chanyeol bring up celebration, your interest is piqued. What were you all celebrating? You and Jongdae have been together for over a year. That’s nothing extremely remarkable. You feel a tingle under your skin at the thought of something have slipped by you so obviously, something having been unmentioned, someone keeping you in the dark.

Did I miss something? You wonder if he would answer you if you telepathically sent the question to him. A look, that’s what you try to give Jongdae, but he avoids it like a professional. His hand find yours even as his eyes do the opposite. He squeezes. “I have something I need to talk to her about,” he says with an uneasy grin. The tingles intensify as you glare skeptically at his profile.

What is he up to? And why does everyone else look so…knowing? Eyes widen and then melt into meaningful grins all across the room. You feel remarkably left out of whatever conversation they seem to be having above your head.

All 8 bodies move as they grab their phones and things, and begin moving toward the door. Kyungsoo pushes Chanyeol out as the taller tries to say an unnecessarily long goodbye to the both of you. Yixing is all smiles as he pulls Baekhyun away with a wave to you, the other trying to slyly hang back and potentially overhear what the two of you are about to discuss. The door closes and silence fills the room.

Your chest feels heavy knowing that you have no idea what is about to happen. He pulls you to his and Minseok’s shared room and forces you to sit on the bed as he violently rummages through his closet.

Uneasiness. Nervousness. A fear of the unknown. All of it leads you to distractedly talk to fill up the space. “You really don’t go out for drinks with them often. How can you be as noisy as you are, but dislike going out and drinking irresponsibly at any given chance? It doesn’t make any sense, you know? It’s just the like opposite of what people would expect-” talking most to yourself and for your own comfort at this point, you follow him with your eyes as he moves from the closet to the foot of his bed where you’re sitting and reaches beneath the bed and pulls something out.

He hides it behind his back before you can get a good glimpse of it, and you can almost feel the nervousness radiating from his body. Why are you both so nervous. From the way his lips are pursed and his posture is rigid. You finally take notice of the way he’s…kneeling.

You feel like you’ve been punched in the chest with how fast breath escapes you. “Jongdae…” your voice is terrified as you stare wide-eyed at the single knee on the ground. He blinks twice and looks down to his legs and splutters before standing up on both feet. His neck and ears redden as he awkwardly tries to backpedal.

“Shit- uh sorry- this- uh- I…fuck I mean-”

Relief comes all to soon as you realize you’ve just dodged a huge bullet. Not that you wouldn’t love to marry him. You would. Like…really would, but it’s too soon. Way too soon. Neither of you are ready for that yet. You hold a hand to your chest and you try to get your breathing back to normal. Jongdae sits on the bed beside you exhales heavily as he tries to do the same.

You look at one another and laugh softly at your reactions. You almost forget that he was hiding something from you until he brings it forward and holds in his lap. You look down at the small box and feel more confused than ever. If you hadn’t both just crushed the idea that he was about to propose, you would think the small box was that of an engagement ring.

He says your name tenderly, reaches out and grabs the hand that isn’t still clutching the spot above your heart and uncurls your fingers. He puts the box in your palm and closes his hands around yours before waiting for you to find his eyes once again.

“How crazy would it be if I told you I wanted to make our relationship public?”

And there goes the second heart attack of the day. You gape. “…public?”

He nods, closes his eyes as he gathers his courage, and looks at you with renewed confidence. “Yes. I know that it’s risky, and that you might not like the idea of it since you’re just now finding yourself again and everything. I don’t want to be the reason you no longer feel comfortable going out, but I still wanted to propose the idea.” The edges of his lips quirk up shyly. “I want everyone to know about us. About how serious we are.”

His hands move from the box to rest in his lap as he gives you a moment to think. You open the small box to find a ring that looks similar to the one he likes to wear. You bring it closer to your face and see your initials etched into the plain band.

A promise ring.

Your mouth drops as you look from the simple piece of jewelry to his expectant expression. You can see the nervousness slipping back onto his features.

You’ve both been through a lot. Too much you would argue. From constantly arguing and you threatening him with whatever stationary you could get your hands on, to holding each other beneath the covers as you imagine what your future together will hold.

Scandals. Kisses. Secret rendezvous. All of the good and bad things you have come to realize that he’s been there for it all. Whether he was the cause, or silently supporting you from the side, he hasn’t missed a moment in the time you’ve known each other. You don’t deserve him. You know that you don’t. You aren’t sure what it was about you that managed to blind him enough for him to pay you any attention.

But here you are. In his room. A ring in your palm, and a promise of the future tangibly in your grasp. You want to cry. To sob and run and maybe lock yourself up in your room long enough for you to come to your senses and realize this is far too perfect to be real.

He murmurs your name at the sight of your watery eyes and reaches out to touch your thigh. “I just…I have one question before I give my answer,” you mumble before swiping at your eyes and sitting the ring box in your lap. He leans forward. “Once upon a time, you said that you didn’t want me to worry about anything when I’m with you…do you still mean it? No matter what, you’re going to be there for me? That you’ve got me?”

He snorts and rolls his eyes playfully. “Of course. As if I’d even think about letting you go at this point. You’re stuck with me, and I’m…hoping that I get to be stuck with you…” his tone softens as he subtly urges you to give him an answer.

You smile and slip the ring onto your finger, holding it up to give both of you a clear look at it. “I think going public sounds like a great idea.”

“Really!?” he shouts, standing up off of the bed only to lean down and hug you in a vice grip as he laughs excitedly. You’re pushed into the mattress as he leans in to connect your lips in a messy happy kiss. You can’t get the smile off of your own face. “God, I love you,” he whispers almost to himself.

You brush back the hair on his forehead with the hand the ring resides on and watch as his eyes flutter closed at your touch. “And no matter what happens from now on…I want you to know that I’ve got you too. No fan, no company, no news article is going to run me away. You’re stuck with me forever,” his eyes open and shine. You can see your future in those eyes. “I love you too. So much.”

#exo #chen #jongdae #kim jongdae #exo imagine #exo fanfiction #exo stories #chen fluff #jongdae imagine #idk how to tag this at this point yall know what this is about #:((((

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hannibalsbattlebot · 7 years

Text

The Perfect Host

(For the Bottom Hannibal event @feyestwords @cannibalcuisine )

Will wondered if it was too soon to wear the salmon colored button-down again.

He tried to remember. He had worn it recently. Maybe two dinners ago? It was his favorite fall-back because it was one of the few things he owned that was comfortable and looked nice on him. A welcome pop of color in his otherwise drab wardrobe.

He decided it was not too soon and put it on as he got ready for another dinner with Hannibal Lecter.

Will’s careful grooming was part offense, part defense. When he was done donning his armor, he felt more prepared to meet whatever was waiting for him behind those impressive oak doors. He almost convinced himself this was a character he was slipping into.

Almost.

He arrived on time, a bottle of wine in his hands. As had become his custom, he walked right in without bothering to knock.

The lights inside Hannibal’s house were dimmer than usual, which was saying something. The lights in the kitchen–where Will would usually find Hannibal putting the finishing touches on dinner in his immaculate white apron–were off entirely.

“Hello?” Will called. He was sure he didn’t have the wrong date or time. He started to feel the creeping beginnings of unease as he walked into the dining room, which was lit with only guttering candles.

There was a spread waiting for him on the table.

Will felt his heart lurch. It was a tableaux to be sure. The candles were not in the center of the table but at the head of the table, at the corners farthest away from the doorway. Instead of a smooth cloth, there was a mass of fabric bunched and swathed, nearly dynamic in its arrangement with the candlelight flickering off of it.

In the center of this fabric nest was the body of Hannibal Lecter, wearing nothing but discreetly draped fabric.

Will rushed over to the side of the table to get a better look at the still form. Already his internal train of thought split down two tracks: one panicked, the other observing. He looked for blood, for injuries, his eyes darting madly over exposed skin.

“Talk to me,” he said to scene before him. “Show me your design.”

Hannibal’s eyes opened languidly.

“Will.”

Will recoiled from the table, a hand pressed to the front of his salmon shirt above him pounding heart.

“Fuck, Hannibal. I thought you were dead!” His relief gave way to confusion, then to clarity. This was still a tableaux, a Chesapeake Ripper tableaux. It took all his self-control not to punch the man stretched out on the tabletop. Instead he propped both hands on the edge of the table and hung his head down. “You scared the shit out of me.” He took a breath to regain his composure and pulled his head back up. He pulled out a dining room chair and sat down, crossing his legs as if there was nothing unusual about any of this. “An effective bit of theater, but to what end?”

Hannibal still hadn’t moved.

“What do you think?” Hannibal asked. “What is my design?”

Will plucked at a fold of the fabric with his fingers. The movement made the fabric start to slip, so he stopped.

“You wanted to get my attention,” Will said and then begrudgingly added. “You certainly did that.”

“Good. Anything else?”

“If you wanted to see if I would be alarmed to think harm had come to you, I think we’ve already established that.”

There was a pause that let Will know he was on the wrong track.

“Do you remember when we first were getting acquainted, I wanted you to attend my dinner parties?”

“Yes,” he said. “I wasn’t very good company then.”

“That was your perception of yourself,” Hannibal gently corrected. “I want to entertain you. I want the opportunity to be the perfect host.”

“Is this how you usually entertain?”

“No.”

Hannibal sat up on his elbow, the cream and black silky fabric still providing the thinnest veil of modesty. Will couldn’t help letting his eyes be lead down the line of his body and then back up.

“I prepared for you a feast.”

The statement was outrageous and laughable. Honestly, Will should have laughed at the whole dramatic gesture from the beginning. This had to be a joke. But the “feast” quickly wormed its way into Will’s mind, hit on some primal hunger. Suddenly, without his concious will to do so, he was taking it all very seriously.

“Don’t you think–” Will started, althought his mouth had gone dry and he had to start again. “Don’t you think this is overly dramatic.”

“Dramatic, yes. Why not?” Hannibal asked. “We deal in dramatic gestures, you and I, as some might exchange pleasantries in passing.”

At a loss, Will said “Hannibal, what do you want me to do here?”

Hannibal’s eyes showed a mild fleeting disappointment.

“I am trying to be accommodating. What do you want? Should I clear the table, go to the kitchen, prepare the meal and forget this happened? As my guest, I want you to be comfortable.”

Will reached out and lightly touched the fold of fabric closest to him, and lightly tugged it.

“As my host, you should know that trying to climb up on this polished table would be very uncomfortable for me.”

In a swirl of ivory and black silk, Hannibal lead the way to his bedroom. It too was lit by candles and there was a bucket of champagne on ice. Will would have been annoyed at his predictability, if he wasn’t sure that every room in the house was similarly set up. It wasn’t that Will was predictable, it was that Hannibal was extraordinarily, painstakingly prepared for any contingency.

Hannibal nodded towards the two champagne flutes on a tray nearby.

“Would you pour?”

“Of course.”

Hannibal continued walking across the room. As he walked the cloth started to fall away from him like flower petals pulling away from the bud. At the other end of the room, he opened a wardrobe, which hid him from sight, just as the last fold of fabric hit the floor.

“Should I dress?” he asked.

“Its your house,” Will said, concentrating on wiggling the cork out of the bottle without shooting it across the room, where it would probably break a priceless knick knack, or maybe the…large mirror angled to reflect Hannibal’s bed. Why did he have a mirror…Will started to ask himself the question, but almost simultaneously realized the answer.

“It’s your party,” Hannibal responded.

“Whatever is fine,” Will said and he really meant it. He poured two glasses of champagne and drank one right away.

Hannibal shut the wardrobe door and walked over to where Will stood. Except for stocking feet, he was fully dressed ina blue plaid suit with all the trimmings. The silky cloth he had been wrapped in was folded over his arm. With the grace of dancer, he swirled the fabric out over the bed. They both watched as it settled.

Will handed him a glass and drank his second glass down. Hannibal took a savoring sip of his.

“I’m not looking for liquid courage, I’m just thirsty,” Will said and then wished he hadn’t.

He didn’t know why, but he was more, not less, aroused with Hannibal now fully clothed. “This is strange,” he said. “Naked in the dining room, fully clothed in the bedroom.”

“I thought that me wearing something you were accustomed seeing me in would put you at ease.”

Will sighed and put down his empty glass.

“I don’t think I’ll be at ease, at any time, ever, until we settle this: what are we to each other?”

Hannibal set down his own glass and looked at Will with interest.

Encouraged, Will went on. “You told Alana that as long as we know what we are to each other that would be enough. The only problem is, we haven’t settled that. Not really. You tried to set me at ease by laying yourself out on the dining room table for me. A feast, you said.”

“Isn’t that what we are to each other?” Hannibal asked. “We’ve already been consuming each other. I thought it might be beneficial to force the issue with a visual.”

“A tableaux,” Will said. “With you as a victim.”

“As your victim.”

Will raised a hand and gently brushed Hannibal’s cheek.

“Are you?”

“I have been and will continue to be.”

Hannibal moved towards Will just slightly, a barely perceptible statement of intention. Will understood and reciprocated, meeting Hannibal’s lips with his. After a few small teasing kisses Will grazed Hannibal’s lip with his teeth. This was what they were here for: bites and rough hands. Will put his hand up to Hannibal’s throat and with a surge of satisfaction in the act, pulled the knot out of his tie.

This was the signal Hannibal was looking for. His kisses became rough and sloppy: his lips leaving Will’s to blaze a trail across his jaw and then his neck. Will, his head back to accommodate the lips and teeth on his throat, groped blindly, unable to decide whether he wanted to start undoing his own shirt or Hannibal’s first. Hannibal tried to help him. Anything to get the clothes off fast, but their hands got in each other’s way. Will grunted with impatience as he shoved Hannibal’s hands away from his belt buckle. He could do it faster.

Will took a moment to pass his hands over the smooth fabric of Hannibal’s underpants. The only thing separating him from the cock he could already feel hot and ready. Hannibal stripped Will’s boxers from him with the same fluid movement as he did anything, by scooping his hands under the waistband, then running his hands around Will’s waist and down to his ass.

Will kicked the rest of his pants off and half pushed and pulled Hannibal onto the bed. They sank down into it. The slippery fabric under them was incredibly soft and Will felt he was being softly cradled on three sides, with the fourth side above him being the pliant flesh of an aroused and mouthy cannibal.

Hannibal was, there was really no other word, petting Will, smoothing down his hair and touching his face, mouth following greedily after the trails his fingers had made.

Savoring.

Will’s hands drifted lower, down Hannibal’s belly, skirting his cock for now. He had to lean, his face now buried in Hannibal’s shoulder as his hand briefly cupped his balls, as if testing their heft and slid behind them. His fingers stopped only they encountered the metal disk of the butt plug seated securely in the doctor’s hole.

“Hannibal?” he asked.

Hannibal stopped raising suck marks on Will’s collarbone for a moment to respond. “I’m accommodating. A good host anticipates.”

Hannibal, also correctly anticipating Will’s next desire, laid next to him on the bed, knees flexed.

Will took a moment to look at the plain steel disk, which was all he could see at the moment.

He grasped it. He did not need to ask. It was the mint on the pillow, the thoughtful courtesy, the bed turned down in anticipation of his comfort. In anticipation of his body sinking into it.

At the plug’s first movement, Hannibal made a small noise tipped his head back and closed his eyes. Will eased it out slowly, both out of concern for Hannibal and for the enjoyment of prolonging it. Hannibal breathed a small “ah” when it was fully out of him.

“Stainless steel? No streamers? No semi-precious jewels?’ Will teased.

“It was my nod to the practical simplicity that you favor.”

“Let me make sure there’s nothing else,” He slid his finger in the slick hole, drawing a pleasing grunt from the other man when he added a second finger that was easily taken.

As he lined up his cock with the waiting hole, his hand almost trembled. What he wanted and wanted now, was to slip into Hannibal Lecter’s hot darkness.

Once he slid in, the trembling stopped. All hesitation was gone. He worked himself in and out, deeper and deeper until Hannibal was taking the full length of him with each stroke. He leaned down and Hannibal rose as much as he could to meet him. Will grabbed the back of his neck and brought him close so he could taste the skin of his throat, salty and blood hot.

“My feast.” He nearly growled.

Hannibal pulled him closer as Will chased his own rhythm. Hannibal was as he had promised: absolutely inviting, as if they each had been made to fit together, just another way in which they perfectly complimented each other. Will came with his hands fisted in Hannibal’s hair.

In his passion he had held too tightly he realized, as he opened his tension-stiffened fingers and felt the detached strands of hair between them.

Will slipped out of Hannibal only when he was too soft to stay. He sat back and looked at Hannibal. His eyes were glazed but his cock still stood up, leaking and untouched. Will reached out for it and Hannibal hissed an intake of breath when skin touched skin. Will bowed his head, blocking Hannibal’s view, and then licked a stripe on the underside of his cock, from root to tip, folding his mouth over the tip for a moment.

“Will,” Hannibal breathed. “You don’t-”

Will cut him short by taking him into his mouth, as far down as he could, covering the rest of his length with a firm grip. He didn’t think he could take all of it, but he did his best, releasing him to lick around the base, then up again to cover the tip.

“Will” he said again.

Will spread a firm hand on Hannibal’s chest, holding him down on the bed, if only symbolically.

“My. Feast.”

He claimed Hannibal’s mouth again, bringing him to orgasm with his hand and kissing him through it, even when his release meant he could only pant uselessly into Will’s mouth.

Will gathered Hannibal close.He was limp in his arms. He tucked Hannibal’s head under his chin.

“Did you anticipate that?” he asked.

“It wasn’t necessary, Will,” he said breathlessly. “Appreciated, but not necessary.”

Will smiled and nestled that smile into the head resting on his chest.

“You of all people should know the rules of being the guest of a perfect host,” Will said. “You always give a token of appreciation back to the host. I’m just being polite.”

Will kissed the top of his head.

“I like your idea of courtesy,” Hannibal said, sleepily.

#sorry for the read more break but it got heckin long #bottomhannibalday #hannibal #hannigram

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