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kandifling · 1 year

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Dan's backstory ★

Dan was born into a family that seriously did not care about their kids. Danialle was the second oldest, so for the first few years of moon's life they didn't have to worry about their siblings dying of starvation. But stars older sibling, left the moment they turned 18. Leaving a 11 year old autistic child to take care of 4 other kids (and three on the way) with little to no help from their parents. And it wasn't any help that there was always their uncle around.

You might think that this uncle would be useful in helping the kids. Wrong. That man could be Satan himself, especially since he would force the kids to do the most inappropriate things ever. This includes making him meals, helping him shower (he could do it himself, he was perfectly healthy) and 'play games' with him, if you catch my drift. Disgusting. Luckily he moved out with his girlfriend when Dan was 13, so he was even less help. The kids didn't really mind though, nobody liked him.

Anyway, when Dan was 14 a accident happened. Stars dad got a little too drunk, and ended up telling a officer what he let his brother do to his kids, and how he and his wife never even see them. You can guess how quickly CPS got their asses. Taking away all of the kids and putting them all in prison for a few months. Dan was the only one to not be adopted during that time (it was mostly because they were 15 and has a big ass ego. Also the fact the have autism. That for some reason gave people a reason to not adopt them) so they were given back to their parents once they got out of prison. But since the parents were legally no longer allowed into any bar or area that sells any kind of alcohol, they went through massive withdrawal symptoms. Making them both extremely aggressive. Moon's mom died of withdrawal (and a edible overdose) and that made their father even more aggressive, so they started physically abusing star. This got so bad (literally like even leaving star room, would get the shit beat out of them) and Dan ended up running away and telling the cops about their mothers death (Her body sat it the house for a week or so because their dad was a phyco and didn't feel like leaving) and the abuse, getting them permanently taken away. And the father back in prison.

The orphanage wasn't the best living space ever, but it was infinitely better then their former area Dan was living in (To be honest anything would be better then that place. Maybe hell but that's just a thought.) Dan was the only sibling still living in the same town as they were born in, they knew nobody and didn't care for anybody either. They coped by drowning themselves in books (can't think about trauma if your reading a really good book :D) so they figured out their special interest (★ Space ★) and pretty much only focused on school and space. And also ways to piss off the owner of the orphanage (wasn't a super nice guy, he was super strict. But he wasnt an asshole, Dan was though.)

Dan wasn't adopted. At all. They stayed in that center until college, where they luckily started at 18 and ended at 28. (TEN YEARS AT COLLEGE DUDE.) Star adored being a astronomer, having most of their college payed off by Grammy in Alaska (hey where were you when I was being abused- oh you were dying of some rare illness? Oh ok.) And scholarship things from literally having the best grades in literally everything, so luckily they didn't have to go through debt. (I have to give them something alright? Imma let them be happy once.) But nothing lasts forever (see we can't let them be happy forever.) And since they were one of the only non-binary (AFAB) workers, alot of moon's coworkers didn't take them very seriously, and one of them even went far enough to try and 'take advantage' of them (were trying to not get banned here. (Guess what company they work for.) and Dan was really trying to get out of the toxic situation they were definitely in (they just got out of one, they don't wanna go back down that rabbit hole) then, they found a advertisement of Lizberts expedition, and took that chance and ran!!

So now Dan's on Snaktooth, they are having a fun time, not really interacting with most of the others unless they have to (you can freaking guess why) but once they got used to being around all the new people (not really 'new' actually, Snorpy, Floofty, and gramble lived in the same orphanage as them for a bit, but they all were moved out into other orphanages. But they all never really met so they wouldn't have any idea.) Dan opened up into this egotistical, overly confident, bastard. Yup thats right. That's Dan's personality for yah. A fucking asshole. That can't figure out social cues and hates the sun (ew bright light bleeghhh) and certain kinds of blankets (eww weird texture blaaahghh)

Dan fought with Wiggle at the big fight. Mostly. They tried to stay out of it (don't go searching for fights kids) but they heard star name out of wiggles mouth and promptly stuck up for themselves. (it was something about their ego, although they shouldn't really be talking to be honest.) Dan left almost immediately after the fight. Don't stick around where trouble lies. Also run away from your problems don't deal with them first hand. (This is definitely talked about.) + The impending realization they have a crush on a certain scientist (wink wink nudge nudge *insert dad joke here*) was also a motivation to leave (don't get attached, and DEFINITELY don't fall in love)

Dan went to sugerpine woods, literally because it was high up, good look at the stars + the moon from there.

And that's pretty much it :) Im gonna add some fun facts about Dan now because I wanna talk about them but I feel awkward talking about them to other people live so imma do it now. (This feels like a massive info dump I don't know why)

Dan has a weird sense of humor. Like a gen Z kind of humor but its even stranger.

They just yell out some stupid BS if they feel like it. They're mostly trying to get some energy out but it always scares the shit out of gramble (Not on purpose. Mostly)

Hates Dr pepper. They just don't like it!

Loves Rats, Cats, and Halloween decorations. And also the feeling of flower petals. And space. Don't forget about the stars..

Gives you moon/star themed items when you do their letter requests ★

And that's it everyone!!! If you got any questions go ahead and ask them!! I love talking about this mf :)

And that's a wrap!!!!!

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la-esmerqlda · 3 years

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Ivan entering Fyodor’s house: hi I’m-

Smerdyakov appearing from the shadows: omg BESTIE 🤣😜 it’s SOO good to finally have INTELLIGENT conversation 😌🥰 I LOVE having intellectual company 🥰😍 BESTIE we NEED to start hanging out 🥺🥺😌

#fyodor dostoevsky #classical literature #russian literature #the brothers karamazov #dostoevksy #ivan karamazov #smerdyakov #is this not literally what happened #smerdyakov was really trying to make Ivan like him #mans only company was a drunk asshole and an abusive father figure

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shawtygonemad · 3 years

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Crimson: Chapter 4

Daryl Dixon x OC

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WARNING ⚠️: LANGUAGE, ADULT THEMES, SEXUAL VIOLENCE, SEXUAL THEMES, ABUSE, GORE, ANGST, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND ACTIONS

Daryl and I spent most of the night talking on that roof. Never in my life have I ever really spoken about my birth parents. Not to the detectives, therapists, or even my foster mom… until now. Speaking with Daryl was so easy. Even though we’ve only encountered each other a few times, I feel like I can tell him anything. That’s something I’ve never experienced before. Maybe it’s because he understood me while no one else could. We came from similar upbringings. He was able to look at me without judgement or pity. It was like we were equals.

We mostly spoke about my childhood and past, but he was able to contribute to the conversation with some of his experiences. I knew if he hadn’t been drinking then getting this out of him would be like pulling teeth. With every detail he gave, my heart began to ache for him even more. He finally gave me my answer as to why he thanked me after his father died. His pop was a mean, drunk, bastard who liked to beat his kids. If I had known that, then I would have let the asshole bleed out quicker. How could anyone want to lay their hands on Daryl in a non loving way? I mean sure, he can be a gruff, occasionally arrogant, short tempered, country man. But that’s not him. At least mostly. When he’s with me, like right now, he doesn’t act like he does in front of his group. He’s putting on a show. If he’s this mean, redneck, asshole then no one would want to be around him. He’s purposely keeping people at arms length to protect himself from more hurt. Realizing this feels like I’m looking at myself in a mirror. This man is like a Matryoshka Doll with many layers to uncover. I impatiently want to find the center, but need to do it without having him retreat. A part from solving the cause to the zombie apocalypse, I was driven to solve the enigma that is Daryl Dixon.

I finally tore my eyes away from the man beside me to look at my watch. It was a quarter to three in the morning. This man needed to get to bed, and I still needed to figure out how the hell to get out of Jenner’s grasp. What was his plan anyway? He said that we were running out of time, but what did that mean? It’s the end of the world. It’s not like our bosses had given us a specific deadline to hit. As long as the human race was still alive and fighting, then we had time. Maybe even a chance.

“C’mon,” I said as I got myself up and offered my hand to him. “It’s getting late.”

He took my hand and helped himself up. He gave me a confused look. “Yer off ta bed?”

“No,” I chuckled. “That would be you, my friend.”

“Why? I’m not even tired,” he protested.

“You say that now until morning rolls around and you’re hating yourself while doing some work,” I smiled as I held the door open for him.

We continued down the stairs in comfortable silence. The facility seemed quieter than ever with everyone asleep. We silently walked down the housing corridor, trying not to wake our drunken friends. Daryl led us to the room he was staying in. When he opened the door and went to walk in, he turned around to face me. We both stood there awkwardly for a few moments.

“Well uh… g’night,” he quietly spoke while avoiding eye contact.

“Good night,” I smiled and decided to go with my instincts before chickening out. I leaned up on my tiptoes and caressed his right check with my hand before planting a quick kiss on his left cheek. “Thanks again for keeping me company tonight.”

I quickly turned around with the image of a blushing Daryl stained into my head. I began to walked off toward the kitchen for some coffee. I had a long day ahead of me.

My sleep schedule was horrific. I’ve been battling bursts of insomnia most of my life. That’s no surprise since it would be hard for the body to relax when it’s constantly in a fight or flight state. So I took advantage of this and continued working in the lab. Jenner joined me around five am. We both worked in silence. The air was so thick you could cut right through it. The rest of human life didn’t start to arise until around eight in the morning. The group made their way in as I went to go grab their blood samples from the back room. Once I returned, it seemed like all hell was about to break loose.

“Dr. Jenner, I know this has been taxing for you and I hate to ask one more question, but... that clock... It's counting down. What happens at zero?” An older man, Dale, asked.

“What clock?” I asked confused.

Never have I seen a clock in the lab. The space’s atmosphere is kept in a way similar to how casinos are. No way to tell time so you can keep working until you drop. My gaze was brought up to the large red numbers counting down on the screen. How the hell have I never seen that before?

“Once time runs out the basement generators… they run out of fuel,” he explained.

That must have been what he meant by running out of time. We’d lose the electricity and most of our unsaved work if that happened.

“And then?” Jenner was pried again.

“VI, what happens when the power runs out?” Jenner asked, sounding exhausted.

“When the power runs out, facility-wide decontamination will occur,” VI announced.

Suddenly it was like the air was knocked out of me. That couldn’t mean….? I thought the CDC decontamination was a joke or a dark rumor. This place was really going to blow up with all of us inside it. This bastard trapped us in here, unknowingly. Rage instantly filled me and all I could see was crimson. He is either going to release us or I will make him wish he did.

“Decontamination? What does that-” Glenn was cut off mid question by my angry cry.

“You fucker,” I shrieked as I flung myself towards him.

I grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and slammed his back against the computer desks.

Jenner chuckled like a madman. “We finally outlasted the French. No power grid, no juice, and a world that runs off of fossil fuel. How stupid is that right?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I screamed in his face. “You were just going to keep me trapped here, for why? So your bitch ass didn’t have to get fried alone?!”

“Rose, what’s going on?” Rick asked in a panic.

“This son of a bitch is going to deploy H.I.T.s,” I yelled before punching Jenner in the face.

“What’s H.I.T-” Lori started, but was cut off.

“High-impulse thermobaric fuel air explosives! It’s aerosol ignition that’ll set the air on FIRE. He’s going to blow this place up,” I hastily explained.

“You’ll feel no pain,” Jenner added from the ground.

“Shut up,” I screamed at him.

“Oh God,” Carol wept as she held her daughter close.

“And you knew about this?” Lori questioned venomously.

“No!” I protested.

“Then how the hell do you know what it is or does?” She yelled at me.

“I thought it was just a dark rumor everyone spoke about. I promise I didn’t know,” I pleaded.

“We’re locked in,” Shane shouted as he returned to the room.

“Jenner! Open the doors or so help me, God, I will make you see Jesus earlier than you anticipated,” I growled at him.

“I knew you were nothing but trouble,” Lori yelled through her tears as she caressed a sobbing Carl. “Now you’ve sentenced us to death!”

“I was only trying to save the human race and make it a better place for my nephew,” I cried.

“He’s not your nephew,” she screamed. “And Rick is not your brother! You have no one who cares about you, so stop trying to ruin everyone else’s lives like you did your own.”

That clammed me up. I tried so hard not to let it hurt, but it did. It hurt so badly, because it was true. A hand was placed on my arm. I looked over to see it was Jenner. He looked at me with the saddest eyes.

“Rosalynn… I know you. You know this is it. Our work here is done. Time’s up,” he said quietly.

Tears slowly dripped down my face as I very slightly nodded at him.

“Please let them go. Give them a chance. I’ll stay,” I whispered softly.

In return he nodded his head at me and clicked a button to unlock the doors.

“C’mon! Let’s go! Move it,” the group yelled as they each sprinted out the doors towards the exit.

I slowly sunk to the floor while staring at the counting down clock. Slow, silent tears continued to roll down my face. My eyes hardly blinking as I started to slowly disassociate. This is it. After fighting so hard for 20+ years to stay alive, I would finally be taken out. I’m going out without having done anything great with my life. I never solved the reason for the pandemic, or created a vaccine, or even saved the human race. I’ve worthlessly done nothing. This meaningless death seems pretty poetic right now. Maybe I’ll get to see my mom again…

“Doc!” A gruff voice shouted.

Both Jenner and I turned our heads out of instinct. My heart squeezed painfully at the sight of Daryl running towards me. He looked distressed.

“Angel, what are you still doing here? You have to get-” I was cut off by an explosion from above. “You have to leave.”

“Not without you,” he stated.

“This is how it’ll have always ended for me, Daryl. I shouldn’t have even made it this long. Please… save yourself,” I cried.

“Nah, ya ain’t doin’ this,” he disagreed as he quickly picked me up bridal style and started bolting for the exit.

“What are you doing?” I cried out in surprise.

“Livin’ up to that dumbass name ya keep callin’ me,” he yelled slightly out of breath as we exited the window.

We were only a few feet away when the explosion occurred. Thankfully, Daryl grabbed my waist and practically body-slammed me to the ground behind a cinder blockade. I may have the wind knocked out of me, but at least I was still alive to breathe. I was on my back with Daryl’s body laying on top of me. If this was the last thing to happen to me before death, I wouldn’t be mad. With the sun shining against the blue sky and flames licking the air behind him, he truly did look like an angel. Perhaps an angel of destruction, but an angel no less!

Those blue eyes looked down at me. His lips were moving but I couldn’t hear anything. The only thing that sounded was a loud ringing in my ears. I hope the explosion didn’t cause me to blow an eardrum. He pushed some hair out of my face as his lips kept moving. Faintly, I could hear him asking me a question. After putting some concentration to it, I was finally able to understand him.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“Yeah,” I croaked, still winded from being slammed onto the ground. “You?”

“Yea.”

They group stayed in the area until the following day so we could form our next plans. Personally, I wanted to get to D.C. If there's any place that has resources for me to solve this, then it would be there. I was out voted. The group was heading to Fort Benning which is about 125 miles away.

My options for a smooth ride were almost non-existent. I was not going ride in a car with Lori for 125 miles and I really didn't want to take the RV with gramps and emo Barbie having unresolved feelings. I think I'd have better luck walking. That is, until I heard the beautiful roar of an engine that made me weak in the knees. No fucking way!

I turned my head to see what beautiful bike was making that noise. When I saw it was Angel on a Triumph, my whole body felt like it started to vibrate. Particularly the southern region. As if this man couldn't get any fucking hotter, he rode a bike. It took my entire will power not to jump his bones right here and now.

"Angel, you are definitely a sight for sore eyes," I practically moaned.

Even though my body was still sore, spending it on a bike with Angel for 125 miles sounded like heaven. Maybe I can even talk him into letting me drive.

"Rose," Rick called. "C'mon, let's get going." He gestured to the car he was driving. Lori shot me a glare through the window.

"I'm good," I waved at him. "I'm gonna ride with Daryl," I nodded to the man on the bike with my head.

The sheriff looked surprised at this statement. However, it soon formed onto a, what I thought was, knowing smile. I shot him a look as I placed my hands on Daryl's shoulders before swinging my leg over the bike behind him.

"You better not being using that poor man just to get to his bike," Rick chuckled. Daryl gave a soft snort while I just gave Rick a playful grin and wink.

"Try ta keep yer hands to yerself back there," Daryl joked as he glanced back at me from over his shoulder.

I gave him the most innocent eyes I could muster. "But what if we're going too fast and I get scared?"

This caused Daryl to scoff. "I may 'ave been piss drunk the nigh' we met, but don't think I didn't remember how ya tore away from the curb like ya did."

I laughed, "You got me." I leaned forward until my chest was pressed against his back so I could whisper in his ear. "You better take it slow so I don't have to hold you then…"

Without warning Daryl took off suddenly. What left my mouth was a hilarious mixture of a scream and a laugh. My arms automatically wrapped around his waist. I just knew this ride wasn't going to be long enough.

***

Next Chapter

Tagged: @madshelily @browneyes528

#romance #adventure #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon x oc #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #daryl x y/n #daryl imagine #daryl dixon x reader #zombies

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horrorslashergirl · 3 years

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Decebal Avram Chirilă SFW Alphabet Slasher OC

Authors Note: Just trying to work more on his character so I decided to try this SFW Alphabet. ENJOY!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Decebal is a person that isn't afraid of public display of affection, if he likes someone he will let them known, through compliments, flirting, hugs, and so on. He may come off as a womanizer (which he kind of is), but that's really just how he is. All his life during Romanian Communism he's been neglected completely from affection; the most he got were more mature women complimenting on how cute he was.

Even if you're just his friend, he will hug you, wrap his arm around your shoulder. Don't strictly take that as a romantic gesture. He is just friendly.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

This Romanian as a best friend? You're basically having yourself a loyal dog that will take a bullet, grasp a knife and give his life for his best friend. He hated himself for not being strong to save his parents so now as an adult, he protects the people that have a big value in his life.

He may seem very friendly, but he has a hard time trusting someone, and that someone has to prove themselves trustworthy, mostly because Decebal is a wanted man and he meet people that played the 'friend' role only to stab him in the back. If he calls you brother or sister, then you can count on him anytime. His word is gold.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Decebal loves hugs and cuddles, and he has no problem in sharing. This man is touch-starved for affection, although he will never admit it.

He usually loves to hug and cuddle from behind, his big arms wrapped around you, his chin rested on top of your head or if he's in a really good mood, he will spin you around. Romanian Rollercoaster!

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Alright, this man has very big issues with settling down and the whole marriage deal; although not impossible! As I said, he has a hard time letting anyone get close to his heart. It's kind of a paradox because he is starved for affection, but he runs like hell from marriage. You need to have nerves of steel if you want to get him into a little more 'serious' relationship. That strictly depends on you if he views you as a one-time thing or something more. All the women that were around him as a child after his parents were killed, were company ladies or prostitutes, toxic women so for him to meet someone who is genuinely nice to him out of no reason is a little more like a fairytale for him.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

As friendly as this man is, he is also very blunt. Decebal isn't the type to beat around the bush; if he has something to say he will. He is most of the time very honest and probably his words might hurt you, but he doesn't like to get drunk with water, which pretty much means he isn't the type to even lie to himself.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

As I said above, marriage is pretty much a subject and a level he wants to step aside and avoid. He is a rogue one who loves to taste freedom in all ways. He had enough of the restrictions during the Romanian communism, so his outlaw life is something he cherishes. You will have to be someone who isn't into poly relationships. You may be his significant other (Again.... How did you do that?), but that doesn't mean you can tell him what to do. Stubborn Romanian Ass.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Decebal is a pretty gentle guy in his day to day life; he prefers to love than to fight, but again.... If the last resort is fighting, oh boy. He is the type to open the doors to the ladies, smile their ways, or compliment them. That's I suppose his gentle nature. He basically has three moods; the gentle romantic lover, the sassy and vulgar punk, and finally the fast, sadistic swordsman assassin.

On 80% of the time, he is a combo of the first two. The last one is a rarity because he prefers to smile than scowl, but he is called The Impaler for a reason.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

I did mention it in the cuddle part. He is a hugger and will do so with almost anyone who is nice to him or doesn't show to be his enemy. His hugs are very nice, especially when he does them from behind, twirling you around if he is in a very good mood.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

There are two ways that he says these words. One is when he is in a jokester mood saying something like 'Awww... I know you love me.' Then the more serious way that takes a lot to pull from the Romanian's lips. He may say the L-word but it depends on how he says it. That makes the difference.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He really isn't a jealous guy. Decebal values freedom most of all things and he doesn't want to be a possessive asshole to his s/o if that's the case. He gives you freedom, so he expects you to do the same.

If it's for example about someone he likes and someone hits on them, he will probably increase his game, topping his competitor, because Decebal has Latin blood running through his veins and he knows how to take someone's mind with his charms.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Romanian lover, French kisser. He loves to leave his partners with a dazed look after a kiss, so his kisses are full of passion and sensuality, his hand running through your hair, while his other hand strokes your hip. All the time his eyes are half-lidded looking into yours.

As for where he loves to be kissed? Try kissing the nape of his neck, you will feel him shiver and look over his shoulder at you with a cheeky smile.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He has a weak spot for children mostly because he knows how sensitive these little ones are. He was a little guy himself when his parents were killed, so he knows what such a tragedy can do to one. As for if he wants children? He isn't a father figure. Sometimes he acts like a teenager and he doesn't see himself be able to raise children with his style of life.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings are probably either very funny or lazy, depending on how he spent the night. He can wake up full of energy, blasting Romanian music in his headphones, singing, and preparing for the day. Lazy mornings are usually in bed, crawling downstairs and trying to prepare his coffee, drool running down the corners of his mouth.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

If you're a night person you got yourself a night owl. He loves to stroll through the city, going to a bar, having a few drinks, going to a club. Or if you prefer a much quieter environment, you two can sit down on the front porch, talking about whatever topics you want. He is a pretty cultured person so he can keep up a conversation all night long. Ooooor.... if you want a much more sensual night.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Alright; Decebal has the whole super confident guy attitude with a cheeky grin, all tall and handsome, but he has also a very sensitive side. He will reveal little by little about his past, torture, nightmares when he feels he can 100% trust you. Despite his loud nature, he also has a mysterious vibe that attracts people, especially ladies aaaand also danger to him.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

You really need the talent to anger Decebal. In his opinion, life is too short to have a scowl on your face. Like the Romanian saying 'Faci haz de necaz' which basically means 'I'm laughing at trouble'. All his childhood was depressing and gloomy and he is simply tired to victimize himself.

He really doesn't get mad so easily, but God help you if he gets angry, because it's like seeing Romania's bloody history depicted into a person.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He has a pretty good memory and will remember everything you told him. Your favorite flowers, your favorite dish. He will remember. He doesn't forget if someone helped him and he doesn't forget when someone did it wrong.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

He never had a long term relationship. All his relationships, if you can call them that were just for one night or even for a few hours. His life in his home country was harsh and he didn't have the privilege to meet someone he could call HIS. Then after leaving his country, he never stayed in one place which made relationships non-existent.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Decebal is very protective if you are someone he cares for, protecting you even if it means giving his own life. He is a 'Go hard or Go home' guy. He lost too much when he was young because of his cowardice, so when he unleashes his swords is dance time.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He is a romantic guy by heart and he loves to make his special one feel that way; a bouquet of flowers, something that he remembers you saying you want.

As for effort in general, he puts 100% of his blood. All his life he had to work hard until collapsing and none cared. He digs his teeth into the task at hand and won't give up just because it hurts. He faced enough abuse as a child to know that there are worse things than a back full of whip marks or broken fingers.

When he was young he used to be tortured if the task given to him wasn't done properly and it's in his system to do it right.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Probably his flirty attitude towards most people, which in his opinion is just friendly. Even if you magically are his s/o old habits die hard and he can be a real womanizer, so let's hope you're someone who can put up with a lot.

Another bad habit, or rather a good one? Depends on how you view it, is his daredevil side that makes jokes even in the face of death. Dying with a smile on your face and a good laugh? Sounds familiar.

Emotional Intimacy? He doesn't like this territory mostly because he feels like the coward he was as a child. Putting his feelings on a silver platter is a challenge for him and he usually screws up by taking everything as a joke.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He knows he looks good. He knows he is handsome. He knows the ladies dig it. He is mostly 50% concerned with how he looks. He makes sure he is clean, smells good and his hair is in that messy bedhead the women swoon over.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Probably if you and he have been together for a very long time. He just got used to you being around that when you leave is kind of depressing sight, but freedom is the most important thing for him, so he will swallow everything down and wave you goodbye, going on his lonely path yet again.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

One of the things that really may trigger his vulnerable side would be someone choking him because that reminds him too much of the days in jail as a child and teenager, the warden there being the father figure that used to choke him under the dirty cold water that reeked of rats on an almost daily basis.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He doesn't like controlling people, people that think they can make anyone do what they want just using the fear as a weapon. It reminds Decebal too much of the dictator of his country during the communist system. He went through much in his life to have his freedom be taken away... again. That is something that haunts his sleep at night, one of the reasons he mostly spends his nights out and his days sleeping.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He is usually sleeping during the day, mostly because he prefers to spend his nights strolling through the city, anywhere where he can be free, none to tell him what to do. He is usually sleeping on his front with his face buried into the pillow. Usually, if he wakes up in the middle of a nightmare, he stays awake and looks out the window or on the roof of the house or building, letting his mind known that he is free. He isn't chained.

#Decebal Avram Chirilă #slasher oc #Original characters #sfw #alphabet #Killer OC

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candycanes19 · 4 years

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Playing in the Dark with No Escape **Non Con**

Please note that rape is talked about in this chapter and that is all.

Daniel was being treated at the hospital he was committed to by his sister, Piper. Their parents were not happy at what she had done but she did not care. Daniel had problems and needed help.

Piper went to visit Daniel one day when he finally was able to have visitors and she was surprised to see that he had been working out and his hair was a bit longer but not much. When he saw his sister he was annoyed.

“You are my visitor?” he grumbled.

“I am your only sister and that is how you greet me? Wow I thought they were helping you but I guess it is not working.”

“Yeah whatever, what do you want? Now that you have ruined my life, dear sister.”

“Ruined your life? Seriously? You know very well whose life you ruined and it is not yours.” Piper exclaimed.

“I did not ruin my Princess’ life. She and I were happy. We are having a kid. It was going to be perfect.” Daniel said putting his hand through his unruly hair.

“(Y/N) was not happy. All you did was fucking rape her and beat her up. Until you realize that, you do not deserve to know how she or the baby are doing.”

“Did she have the baby yet? I have rights to my child.” he asked.

“You have no rights to that baby. The first time you raped (Y/N) you lost your rights.” Piper got into Daniel’s face, “And I do not know if she has had the baby yet or not.”

He looked down at his hands, “I never raped my princess. It was a bit rough but I would never rape a women. I love her and still do.”

“Bullshit you did in high school and our stupid parents got you off because of their connections. I know how my brothers thought our dad was so awesome. But he wasn't. He was horrible to mom. And you all treated me and mom like we were second hand citizens. You and Sean were awful. Treating your girlfriends like dirt and whores. I really hope you get yourself together. I know unfortunately our dear brother, Sean ,died in a car accident after he hit a tree and was drunk after beating his girlfriend up. But I hope you get yourself together Daniel so that maybe someday your child will want to meet you if they choose. But I do not see (Y/N) ever letting you near her or the baby ever after all the abuse she suffered because of your hands. Please let the doctors here help you. I want my big brother to change for the good.”

After Piper finished speaking Daniel looked over at her and then motioned to the orderly to take him back to his room.

Piper sat there and watched him leave and had no idea if anything she said sunk into his brain. She pulled out her phone and flipped through her contacts and found the one she wanted and called as she left the hospital.

Your phone rang and you saw the number, “Hello Piper” you answered.

“Hey (Y/N), how are you doing? I wanted to call to tell you that I just visited Daniel and he is not doing well. I let him have it but not sure any of it stuck. He is so fucking stubborn and still an asshole. How are you doing?” she asked.

“I am good. I have met someone new but am taking it slow. And he has a son and a crazy past too. I have not told him my whole situation but when I am ready I will because I really like this guy and one weird thing is that he looks a lot like Daniel which freaked me out at first but there are differences and I know this one is a good guy.” you smile as you tell Piper about Charlie.

“I am so glad to hear that, (Y/N) and hope things are on the upswing for you and your baby. You deserve some happiness now.” Piper said.

“Thank you Piper and I appreciate you keeping me updated on Daniel. I know I shouldn’t have any worries about him ever after what he put me through but I am starting to with help from my therapist accepting what happened. I am slowly realizing that it was not my fault and I did not do anything wrong and that Daniel needs help and I hope he gets his life together.”

“I will keep in touch and enjoy the rest of your day, (Y/N). Laters” Piper says as she ends the call.

You hang up and look over at Charlie who absorbed in some online meeting he was having. He looked over at you and asked, “Are you good?”

“Yes I am, thanks Charlie” you smile and put your phone down and pick up your book you were reading when Piper called.

**************************************

Charlie had been spending more time with you at Kasey’s place and you felt that you were cramping her life when he was around but she swore it was fun having lots of people hanging out.

You had started looking for your own place and it was not easy. But then to your surprise an opening in Charlie’s building and he helped you get it. He was happy that you would be close but knew to give you space. Kasey was sad that you were leaving but knew you needed a place since your baby would be arriving soon.

Charlie and Kasey both helped you find furniture and things for the nursery. Your apartment started looking like a home after a few days. You were thrilled at the outcome. It was perfect and Charlie was actually your across the hall neighbor. But he was now always hanging out at your place because he said it was homeier than his and his was way to bachelor pady. You laughed but enjoyed his company.

***************************************

One evening after work you were sitting watching a movie when you started feeling cramps in your abdomen.

“Fuck oh man” you then noticed that your water broke and that realy freaked you out.

You slowly got up and went to your door and grabbed your keys and small bag you set by the door. You shut your door and then made it over to Charlie’s door and knocked loudly.

“Charlie, I need your help. Hey are y…..” before you finished he opened the door, “Sorry (Y/N) was in a meeting. Are you ok?”

“I think my water broke and I feel weird. Can you take me to the hospital please?”

“Oh my yes, let’s go have a baby” he smiled and quickly grabbed his keys and shut his door and helped you to his car.

****************************************

While they were preparing you for giving birth, Charlie called Kasey to tell her that you were having the baby. She was on her way is what she told Charlie to tell you and that if she did not make it that Charlie was to be your birthing coach. He told Kasey he knew the drill from having a son and would try his best but it might be a while before the baby arrived.

Charlie came back into your room and saw that you were stressing out. He walked over and sat down next to you, “Hey you got this (Y/N). You will do great and Kasey is on her way but I know a thing or two about having a kid remember so I got you, (Y/N).” Charlie said and kissed the top of your head.

“I am so scared and…….” you did not finish when a contraction hit you, “Fuck oh man” you cried out.

Charlie gave you his hand and you squeezed it and felt bad but he seemed understanding.

Finally the doctor came to check on you, “(Y/N) it will be a bit longer until you are fully dilated but are you agreed to having an epidural right?” she asked.

“Yes I did and when I can have it please give it to me. I want to experience childbirth but am not that crazy.” you joked and everyone laughed.

**********************************

After what seemed like a million years the doctor said you were fully dilated and Kasey had finally made it in time. Charlie was getting ready to leave the room, “Don’t go Charlie please stay. If you want?” you bit your lip hoping he would stay.

“Are you sure?” he hesitenally asked.

“Yes definitely” you smiled when he came back and took your hand in his.

“Are we ready to have a baby, (Y/N)?” the doctor asked and you nodded your head.

Charlie was an amazing birthing coach and Kasey gave him full reign. And after a couple of hours you gave birth to a healthy baby boy. After they cleaned you and your baby up, the nurse put him on your chest. You could not believe he was here and how he had survived all the abuse you had been put through.

“Hey there little angel, it's your mommy here. I love you so much and am so happy you made it after everything.”

Charlie looked confused and looked at Kasey, “What does (Y/N) mean that she is glad he made it?”

“(Y/N) will tell you. It is not my place and if you care anything about my cousin please know she has taking a big risk having this baby.”

Charlie was now intrigued about everything but was starting to care deeply for you and would do anything to protect you and your son.

Kasey walked over to you, “Hey loser what are you naming your son?” she smirked.

“Loser his name is Rhys Benjamin” you say staring at your son. He was so perfect with a bit of dark hair and the cutest little baby smile.

“That is a cool name (Y/N)” Charlie said coming over to sit next to you. Kasey was sitting on the other side and then asked, “Can I hold him?” and you handed Rhys over. Kasey got up and started talking to him and you laughed.

“Hey can I ask you something (Y/N)?”

“Sure what’s up?”

“Your cousin mentioned that you were taking a huge risk having Rhys. What did she mean by that?” Charlie curiosity got the best of him.

You looked down at your hands and took a breath and explained, “I told you I had a bad past well Rhys was conceived because I was kidnapped and raped by Rhys’ father. He was an abusive man and did horrible things to me. I was beaten and violently raped many times. He raped me so bad one time when I was pregnant and I lost that baby. So when I got pregnant again I was shocked that his pregnancy survived all the abuse I had to deal with. So he is my miracle baby. Uhmmm now that you know if you want nothing more to do with me and Rhys I get it.”

You looked at Charlie and his eyes were wide in shock. He got up and you figured you had your answer and that was fine. You were not perfect and had issues.

Then out of nowhere Charlie comes back and sits down next to you and pulls your face to his and kisses you like it is his last breath. You are totally shocked at his reaction.

After the kiss Charlie looks at you with love, “I do not care about your past. You are the bravest woman I know and I want to know more about you and your son if you will let me. I want the two of you in my life if you want me?” Charlie confesses to you.

You look at Charlie in shock, “Really?”

“Yes (Y/N)” Charlie answers.

You pull him back to you and kiss him back and then break the kiss, “You better know that you are in for a crazy ride with me and Rhys. Are you up for it?”

“As long as you are in for it with me and my son, Henry?” Charlie counters back.

“Yes” you say and then Kasey comes over, “Oh thank goodness because as soon as I saw how you two act together then I was going to lose it. And Charlie you are truly an understanding man. Not many would want to have to deal with my crazy cousin.”

“I think I up for it and (Y/N) is amazing and I might be falling for her.” Charlie smiles at you.

You smile back and Kasey puts Rhys back in your arms and you kiss his little head and Charlie kisses your temple.

You were starting to feel really happy and finding Charlie had first been a shock but he was turning into freedom in your life and that was a great feeling.

#daniel jones x reader #charlie barber x reader #adam driver #candycanes19 #Dark fic by candycanes19 #Playing in the dark with no escape #charlie barber #daniel jones #the report movie #non con

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ahagia-sophia · 4 years

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Thesis Statement: Manhood is poorly defined and actively attacked in Western society and this has caused me problems. Selfish I know, but this is my blog. So.

I have a lot of problems with the US. There are the political ones. The not so political ones. And the personal ones. When I first hit adulthood and realized that adults don’t exist I held out the secret hope that somewhere adults existed. When I saw that our political system was not run by these mythical adults I became very angry. And when I went overseas I, like some sort of idiot, thought that I had at last found the place that the adults were hiding. I found a place where people had their roles. Knew how to act. Knew how to behave. But I was a tourist. I saw people doing their jobs and just sort of assumed that everyone was like that. While I was having the epiphany that human beings are, in fact, exactly the same no matter where or when you go, this part of the revelation passed me by. And it took me three years of self reflection to figure that out. But back to the topic. Problems. This might be because of my rather, uh, unique upbringing. But I never really figured out how to be a man. Like I know some stuff. Stand up for people, don’t hit girls, have sex. That’s the basics. But I also saw a lot of other men who grew up and ‘knew’ how to be men. I was raised almost exclusively by women. My father figure was either dead or isolated from the rest of us. So it was me, my mother, my sisters, my grandmother, and my cousins. And after I was transplanted to the south it was just my mother and my sisters. My mom knew how to raise girls. And she married my step father, and stayed with him, almost exclusively for my benefit. Assuming that a man was needed to raise a boy. And because that man was around she was uh. Absent. From my raising. I’m still a little mad that my sisters got ancestral rings on their 18th birthdays and I just got a pat on the back (I’ve got a lot of angst when it comes to rings). But that’s not what I’m here to complain about. Because I was sort of left to raise myself, I turned to any manly source I could find. Those were the military and paramilitary groups. I was small and pale (still am, really) and kind of migrated to bottom bitch status. So I learned that being a man, for me, was being quiet, being studious, and being as unobtrusive as I can. Funnily enough my JROTC program was run almost exclusively by women. The only men really present were 1SG and Colonel. Colonel was a tired old Creole man who had lived a very long life. 1SG was a raging misogynist surrounded by nothing but strong women and scrawny boys. The other organization I found myself is was the 5th Louisiana Reenacting Company. A group of Totally Not Racist See We Have A Black Guy (One Of The Good Ones, A Credit To His Race) Civil War Reenactors It’s kind of surprising that I’m not some frothing trumper, really. From them I learned Machismo and Duty. A man has his Duty and he does his Duty in a manly fashion. I also probably hated women. I was definitely chock full of hormones and mad that they had it so easy sexually (yeah I know better now). I was certainly jealous of my sisters for being mothered. And I definitely hated women who attacked the fundamentals of Manhood. Because it was all I really had, beyond my own special interests.

Going into college all I really knew about my role in society was that I was to Fulfill My Duty and Have Sex. I was bitter about that. I was a virgin. And because I had sort of been raised in a military mindset I had it in my mind that my Duty was to Suffer and Die. (On a related note I fucking despise American Protestantism.) Because of that I was very upset when all my new female friends kept saying that men were pigs who have it easy. I know why they said that now, and to an extent I agree. But at the time I couldn’t understand how they could be so blind. In my mind they had it easy. I had to register for the fucking draft and get ready for a career of suffering and they got to do whatever they wanted while being cared for by those of us who were busy Suffering. Again, don’t yell at me, I’m just trying to explain some shit here.

So college wasn’t really helpful for determining manhood. I was on my own for the first time and all I was learning was all the things ‘men’ were. Men were creeps who raped their children. Men were creeps who followed girls around on dark nights. Men were assholes who tried to control every aspect of a woman’s life. Men were abusive. Men were stupid. Men were, by and large, Bad. It’s funny that you can say that in front of someone and then immediately turn around and say ‘Oh no, you’re one of the good ones.’ And not see the obvious connections. But I’m not here to discuss prejudice. I’m here, really, to discuss the nebulous nature of manhood in American society.

I still didn’t really know what a man was. Which meant (in my mind at the time) I didn’t know what the fuck I was supposed to be doing with my life. I have since learned that no one knows. But then (and now) I was keenly interested on what a man was supposed to be. I took a course on sexual violence and relationships and we got to a thing called the ‘Be A Man Box’ where we outlined the traits of manhood. I was very interested in this box. Perhaps I would get some goddamn answers. Did I mention the class was entirely composed of women? That’s important. They took this as a time to outline everything about men that they hated and provide a few of the staples like ‘provider’ for diversity or something. The box was not helpful. All I really knew was what a man shouldn’t be. Which is good, yes. But it wasn’t giving me the answers I so desperately sought. There were other men on campus, obviously. But beyond my one conservative friend all of my male friends were some flavor of gay. And seemed more interested in figuring out their sexuality and enjoying their newfound freedom than figuring out what the hell masculinity is.

Enter that ‘Muslim’ in my bio. We’ve entered my third year of college. I’m devastated by a breakup, I’m binge drinking, I’m flirting with suicide, I’m completely rudderless. And my friend’s girlfriend was trying to fuck me. A recurring theme in my life, that. A lot of bad shit was going on concurrently. My only real male role models were my professors. One of whom was Muslim, the other tired and Mormon, and the third was/is slowly dying while his wife fucked anything that moved. I was asking myself a lot of questions. Questions like, ‘Is it okay to fuck my friends girlfriend?’ ‘Did my ex break up with me because I couldn’t meet her expectations?’ ‘How have I even gotten this far?’ ‘What will I do next?’ ‘What am I supposed to be doing?’ My parents were also on the edge of a divorce and I was balancing an overfull course load, work, and being drunk/finding booze.

It was a sort of catalyst. I remembering drunkenly kneeling in my bedroom. Naked. Begging anyone who was listening for answers. And that answer was Islam. Islam had the ultimate set of honored male figures. The local Masjid was populated by academics and civil rights activists. Old black men who had clawed their way up from literal slavery to being pillars of their community. There’s no wisdom like that given by an old black man. I doubt I will ever be dissuaded from that belief. Islam had exact answers to all my questions. God. Community. Aid. Prayer. It had role models. It had answers. You’ve probably noticed that I’m still putting everything in past tense. I still consider myself a Muslim, but I’m definitely not a good one. The last time a knelt in prayer was Ramadan. But at the time religion did what I needed it to. I got sober. I got focused. I got my shit together.

It took me 21 years to find anything even resembling a guide to manhood. And it came from what many would describe as Un-American. Absolutely nothing that was presented to me before gave me a satisfactory answer. No American institution. No ‘American’ religion. No facet of American culture gave me an answer. Clearly other men have gotten answers. And, really, they got them from the same place I got mine. Old timers. People who remember, or have learned, how to be Men. And a lot of those old timers are racist old fucks who are actively poisoning young men who are desperate for answers to questions they don’t even know they’re asking. Maybe somewhere. In a country with an old faith and an old population. A place where you are confronted with civilization thousands of years old every day. Maybe there they know how to be men. Maybe that’s the place where the answers lie. Because I know for certain where they don’t lie. Sadly there aren’t any answers here. For any man or any stripe who’s trying to figure it out, I don’t think I can help you. One day I will. That’s my goal in life. To figure out what real manhood is and spread the word far and wide. But. sadly, I don’t have the answers yet.

#my stuff #manhood #adulthood

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onepiecesmosthated · 4 years

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Biggest Coal Getters At Christmas In One Piece

As you know from this blog, I rag on the most hated characters in One Piece. At at this merry Christmas time, I want to show you all the biggest coal getters in this series.

12. Stelly

With being such an arrogant, self-important, entitled, and asshole brat, Sabo’s adoptive brother, Stelly, makes the first on the list on our naughty list. One has to feel sorry for the Gao kingdom for being ruled over such a spoiled king, who even thinks he can order Garp around because he’s originally from there.

11. Wapol

Another king on this list, but one who also is the president of his own toy company is Wapol. Like Stelly he was quite a horrible ruler when he was ruling Drum Kingdom, especially when he left the island to fend for itself when Blackbeard invaded and horded all the doctors so he could force people to pay high prices for them. Though he is currently living high now with his new kingdom gifted by the World Nobles, Santa still is going to leave a nice lump that fits his dark heart.

10. Judge

Just like with the earlier two entries, we have another asshole ruler and this one is the father of Strawhat member, Sanji. The ruler of the Germa 66, a seafaring kingdom that is notorious for conquering islands and being paid assassins, he is a social darwanist, who caused great abuse to Sanji throughout his childhood because he turned out normal. The only reason why he wanted Sanji back into his life was to cement an alliance with Big Mom by offering him as a groom for her daughter, Pudding, which turned out to be a trap because the Yonko planned to kill him and the other Vinsmokes off to get their technology. And at the wedding when the Big Mom Pirates’ true colors are showed, all that previous super macho bravado is melted away to reveal a sniveling coward who cries when someone puts him into the situation that he put others under. And for that the Germa clones will shoveling a lot of coal for a while.

9. Spandam

This guy is the poster child on why we should have anti-neoptism laws. A snively cowardly shit Spandam when he was head of the CP9 tortured Robin all the while she was under his captivity, while arrogantly believing his CP agents were untouchable. He also has little regard for human life when he accidentally triggered the buster call and didn’t care that his subordinates could die. He even called them needed sacrifices. He was also the reason why Tom, Iceburg and Franky’s mentor, was killed due to a frame up job he did in order to obtain the Pluton from him. It’s a bit karmic seeing him be forced to take orders from his former subordinate, Lucci, but even then the clumsy klutz should trip on his black pile of gifts he will get.

8. Hody Jones

Think Arlong, but with none of his few redeeming qualities. Although Hody can be said to be a product of his environment, he’s still a nasty racist shit, who should rot in the jail cell he was put in at the end of his starring arc. With his New Fishman Pirates, they planned on taking over the kingdom and go to Reverie where they planned to massarce everyone there. However, the worst thing he’s done is assassinate Queen Otohime, because she dared to try to aim to bring peace between humans and seafolk. If you think there can be a reason for his racism, then he would answer it himself: “nothing”. Nothing happened to him to make him hate humans personally he just grew up with the toxic belief that hating humans was justified. And for that Hody spends Christmas in a jail cell, while sharing it with the number of coals that can keep him and the other withered New Fishman Pirates company.

7. Mother Carmel

To the world (and to this day, Big Mom), Mother Carmel was a saintly figure who fostered peace between humans and giants plus opened up an orphanage for children of all races. However, underneath that facade lied a wicked slaver, who pretended to be a grandmotherly figure in order to sell children to the highest dollar. Her famed action of stopping the Elbaf crew from being executed was a staged event in order to gain the trust of the giants. Her most notable so-called prized asset was Charlotte Linlin (who would later become Big Mom), who to this day doesn’t know her foster mother never truly loved her and saw her as merchandise to be sold. Even though she’s a deceased character, she certainly deserves to have her stockings filled to the brim with stone, cold coal.

6. Blackbeard

Although he’s more of a love to hate example, we all know that Blackbeard deserves to be on this list. For one thing, if you want to know why the post-timeskip is chaotic as it is it’s thanks to this guy. He for years pretended to be a loyal member of Whitebeard’s crew and acted like one of the family knit setting. However, it’s all an at to get at the Yami Yami No Mi/Dark Dark Fruit. He killed one of his own brothers/crewmates, then went off to form his own crew where he fought Ace and got him handed over to the Marines, so that he could become a Warlord and get into Impel Down. There during the breakout he recruited level six members to his crew, then used them to kill his former captain and father figure Blackbeard. And postimeskip he has been shown to now be hunting down devil fruit users for his fellow crew. There is a reason why people say he’s the anti-Luffy and what a real non-romanticized pirate is like. So, I have a feeling Santa will be stopping by on Hive Island with some hefty packages that could fit his namesake.

5. Ceasar Clown

Although he’s shown as a butt monkey after his first appearance, the record of his misdeeds cannot be forgotten. On his island he kept children captive after a mole in the marines lied to their parents about them dying at sea, which he then proceeded to experiment on them with drugged candy which made them grow giant sized and shorten their live spans. All the while pretending he was actually curing them when he couldn’t give a shit. He also is notorious for making chemical weapons of mass destruction which is used by amoral individuals like the Beast Pirates. In other words, Santa strap this asshole to a big lump of coal and drown him.

4. Doflamingo

One of the most popular villians in the series is Donquixote Doflamingo, former Warlord, top broker, and King Of Dressrosa. Man, you could have a long list of all the shit he’s pulled throughout his career and life. On the outside he might look like a gaudy Elton John rip off, but on the inside bleeds one of the scariest and ruthless characters in the series. No wonder because he was born of the World Nobles, who are a sociopathic and psychotic bunch. From his take over to Dressrosa to funding Ceasar Clown’s research, he certainly can make you scared of the color pink. And that is why we have to heep this birds feathers with a black sheen.

3. Orochi

While Doffy is pretty to look at and is flamboyantly fun, Orochi just embodies “hate sink” stereotypes. He’s just made to be obvious that this guy is not going to be a good person. Spoilers ahead: I know he was influenced into becoming an asshole but he is still an asshole who sold out his country for his own benefit. Not to mention currently it was shown he was heavily implied to be the one who killed Suriyaki and lied to everyone about being named a successor with the help of that strange woman. His 20 years of terror have caused nothing but hurt to everyone under his rule as he causes a famine due to the occupying forces of the Beast Pirates. All of his because he believed he was entitled like his grandfather to be Shogun. He also wastes food, as his country is starving and feeds a whole village of hungry people failed “Smiles” so that they can quit crying about their dead loved ones. I know Santa would know of a way to get into this closed off country, so that he can deliver this shistain a coal that is as big as a mountain.

2. Kaido

Here is the man of thousand beasts and leader of the Beast pirates. Even though Blackbeard himself is no saint, he doesn’t seem to want to destroy the world like Kaido does. An unstoppable juggernaut, he sees suicide as a way to kill boredom and is often on his ass drunk. He’s ruled over Wano through Orochi for 2 decades, as he has decimated it into a famine wide place except the capitol where the rich and his toadie lives. He uses the land to function his own war effort and has caused many of the Wano people to go through great periods of grief. Like with Blackbeard, he’s an unromanticed version of what a pirate is really like. So, Kaido be prepared for Onigashima to reign coal like it’s no tomorrow.

1. World Nobles (Celestial Dragons)

By default, you know these shitty bastards would top the list. The biggest reason because of the fact that they are above the law and are allowed to do anything they like because they are so-called “gods”. They treat the general population like crap, while blatantly owning slaves when it was supposed to have been illegalized 2 centuries ago. They are also supported by a thing called heavenly tribute which country of the world government has to give continuously, lest they get kicked out and have no way of defending themselves from pirates or slave traffickers. So I can say the biggest coal getters go to these fat pigs in their towers. Better yet they should coal statues made in (dis)honor of them.

#hate sinks #assholes at christmas

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paladin4theright · 5 years

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In the Ghetto

Food was a rare commodity, to say the absolute least, for the McCormick family. The fact of the matter was so obvious, much to the children’s embarrassment, that when schools and business around town held canned food drives, it was always dedicated to the most destitute clan in South Park: the McCormicks.

The household consisted of five members: a mother, Carol; a father, Stuart; two boys, Kevin at thirteen years old and Kenny at ten; and a girl, Karen, who brought up the rear at seven years old.

Carol was convinced that she was doing the best she could for her children and herself. When she first got pregnant she was a mere thirteen years old. ‘It was entirely an accident.’ She’d exclaimed to her less than forgiving parents just right before they told her to pack some clothes and move out. In desperation, she went to the man that had gotten her pregnant.

His name was Stuart, a twenty-six year old who, at the time, was being completely supported by his wife. He and his wife, a voluptuous red head, had a young son together, or so Stuart vaguely remembers. It was one night after coming home drunk and horny that Stuart decided to become intimate with the babysitter, a cute little red head, whom he claimed to have mistaken for his wife. After waking up to various breakable items being thrown around the house and one red head yelling at another, Stuart realized his infidelity. He also realized that the babysitter was only thirteen.

Needless to say, Stuart was not married to his wife for very long after the incident. She divorced him based on adultery and was awarded to keep her house in the mountain town. She refused to stay in the home where her husband molested a teenager and moved shortly after selling the house. She took their son with her.

Eight months later and still entirely jobless, Carol and Stuart were betrothed and a month after that, Carol gave birth to their blue eyed bundle of money issues: Kevin Walker McCormick.

Carol was able to get her first job after three months of being with Stuart permanently. She worked as a paper delivery girl for South Park’s local newspaper. With the money she earned from her occupation, she was able to buy diapers for Kevin. She always managed to steal a few jars of baby food every time she went to the store. Consistently she was asked if the baby was her little brother. This left the poor young mother embarrassed and unwilling to take Kevin to the store so she would leave him home. Sometimes Stuart was there to watch him. Sometimes he was not.

Three long and hungry years had gone by before Carol realized she was pregnant with their second bun in the oven. It wasn’t long before she knew she was with child, though, that Stuart had started to cook methamphetamines in the backyard of their decrepit house. Some of it was sold so they could bring in a little more money but the McCormick parents needed an escape from their everyday lives. Thusly, more often than not, the meth they made was used for recreational purposes and soon the drug became an addiction for them both. Before Carol knew what was going on around her, she and Stuart were attending cult meetings for the dark lord Cthulhu for the free booze.

The pair were arrested during one of the meetings by police attempting to break up the cult. They paid all their fines by sitting out their time in jail. It was while they were behind iron bars and unable to see each other that Carol realized she’d not had her period in a couple of months. The realization as well as the detox from the chemicals screwed with her mind in a way that was so undeniable that she began to cry, inconsolably, for the next two months. All she could think of was how she and Stuart could never afford another baby. One was more than enough and Kevin, at this point, had already grown so independent. Speaking of Kevin, what happened to him? She was rotting in jail with the other miscreants of South Park. Surely some form of child protective services had discovered him and taken him in. He had to be safe.

Being released from jail, Carol and Stuart never felt freer. They were detoxed, clean, and sober. They were responsible and full of life, love, and joy. Only they weren’t. That was the furthest thing from the truth. Being in jail had only left the couple wanting more of what they could not have and the pressures of being constantly watched were hazardous.

Four clean months later and Kenneth Jack McCormick was brought into the world. Kevin, who’d been found wandering around the McCormick family home after five months of being on his own, couldn’t have been more upset. His parents assumed he was sad because he wasn’t the only child anymore.

Stuart had gotten a job at the local food mart, stocking items and doing inventory at night. That way he could watch Kevin and Kenny during the early morning while Carol was back at delivering the newspaper. This worked out really well until Kenny turned eight months old and Stuart ended up having a really bad week. His boss had yelled at him for something that, clearly, was not his fault and he felt as though he’d been berated all week long. That led Stuart to go to Skeeter’s Bar and fall back into old habits. He just stopped going into work. He never bothered to call in, put in a notice, anything. His excuse, when asked about why he left, was that the government was holding too much from his check so he might as well not work at all. Minimum wage was a joke anyway.

The abuse was just part of being with Stuart. When he was drunk, he was an asshole but, as far as Carol was concerned, he made up for it when he was sober. If Carol wasn’t the seventeen year old mother of two boys, maybe she could manage to pick up and leave, but she relied so much on the older man that she didn’t feel any confidence in leaving him. She was stuck.

Two years later, Stuart figured he’d had enough of this life. He could barely stand what he’d made with his little family. He’d packed up a couple bags with his few belongings and left, telling Carol that he would never come back home. She cried, tried to convince him to stay, and then grew angry. She’d yelled at him to leave and pushed him out of the house. Carol slammed the door in Stuart’s face. Since they didn’t have a lock on the door, she held tightly onto the knob as Stuart began to pound on the door. It took a few minutes but finally Stuart grew tired and kicked the door one last time before storming off.

Loneliness consumed Carol over the upcoming months. She guessed that Kevin was old enough to watch Kenny whenever she began to go out. She dated a guy or two but they just did not fill the void that Stuart had left on her heart. Maybe she was a glutton for punishment because she knew the older man wasn’t good for her. She began to drink with the little bit of money she had been making as a busser at City Wok. She fed the kids a couple frozen waffles a day with the money she made selling her poorly made meth.

One day she was sitting, watching stolen cable on the dilapidated old couch, when the door slammed open. Stuart held tightly onto two bags that, when dropped, sounded somewhat heavy. A sigh escaped Carol’s lips as she, dejectedly, turned back to watch the television.

They had sex that night.

A month went by and Carol discovered she was pregnant with her third baby. When she told Stuart, it seemed as though he couldn’t be more ecstatic to continue forward with their little clan. Hell, he’d even gone so far as to hope that they would have a little girl. The next several months went by and Stuart had once again gotten a job. He’d even kept his job through Karen Rose McCormick’s birth.

What seemed like a very short time after Karen was born, though, Stuart had lost his job for mouthing off to a customer or the manager or someone else of equal importance. As far as he was concerned, it didn’t matter who they were because he didn’t deserve to be treated as badly as he had been through his duration at this job. He tried to work hard for his family, but goddammit, if he wasn’t the most mistreated person.

Life for the McCormick family continued this way for several years which was exactly why food was such a rare commodity and the family often went hungry.

All three kids had grown to be severely malnourished, not that it was easily spotted by all of their baggy hand-me-downs clothes. It was very often that three sets of Poptarts were split between each member of the family: one for everybody except Stuart, who received two as the man of the house. Anything besides frozen waffles for dinner was a delicacy and mayo sandwiches were often something enjoyed for lunch. If it had been a good month and the people at the electric company had the grace to keep the power on for the family, the kids would get ramen.

Kevin had a fond memory of Kenny where he had come home from his friend Stan’s house. His belly looked distended but his little blue eyes hadn’t ever seemed happier. Kenny had just started kindergarten so he guessed Kenny had the best meal he’d ever eaten in his short life. He had a similar memory that involved Karen after she had come home from her friend Tricia’s house. He was glad his brother and sister had such good friends that were willing to feed them.

The eldest McCormick child wasn’t so lucky. He’d never really made friends. The other kids in school had already considered him stupid, hard to talk to, and less than friend material. He wasn’t interesting or he smelled badly. They called him names, made fun of him for wearing the same pair of pants every day, and tormented him about his shoes always being worn out and falling apart. Kevin McCormick was poison on anyone that tried to be friends with him and the sad thing was that Kevin knew it.

Maybe it was from the meth and alcohol riddled breast milk he was still ingesting at three years old because his parents couldn’t afford real food or potentially it was from when he was left alone in the house for god-knows how many months while his parents were sitting in jail. Perhaps it was from all the years of starvation or getting beaten by drunken and drugged out parents. There was a chance, even, that was just who Kevin was as a person and there was no real cause for his behavior. Whatever the case, Kevin had decided that he was better off without other people.

That didn’t mean he wanted that life for Kenny and Karen, however, so he encouraged them and loved them. He praised them when they deserved praise and scolded them when they deserved scolding. If Carol or Stuart got angry with the other two, Kevin always tried to step in to take the brunt of their fury. Occasionally he wouldn’t get there until after some damage to his younger siblings had been done, but try as he might, Kevin would run to get hit before Kenny or Karen were ever hurt.

Kevin decided that if their parents couldn’t buck up and become real, true adults for the sake of their children then Kevin could grow up and do it for them. With this goal in mind, Kevin didn’t have time for friends.

So at the ripe age of thirteen, Kevin forged Stuart’s signature and sent it in to the school board for South Park, Colorado. He would begin ‘home school’ by the beginning of the spring semester. Christmas break was coming up so that gave Kevin plenty of time to find a job before the holidays.

Check out more of the story on AO3! (it’s a work in progress) https://archiveofourown.org/works/13863645

#P4R writings #Paladin4theright fanfics #kenny mccormick #kevin mccormick #carol mccormick #stewart mccormick #south park #south park fanfiction #sp kenny #sp kevin #karen mccormick #sp karen #south park kevin #south park kevin mccormick #southpark #revenge au

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mystrangerfics · 6 years

Text

Damaged Goods Ch. 2

A/N: This is my first Reader story I’ve really ever written and my first Billy fic. Hope it’s not horrible.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

Description: This was a request by @satansparklesworld. “ Can you make a fic about Billy falling for a punk chick who is almost like him (family life and how they deal with the pain) and they learn to trust and be vulnerable with each other. Can she be on thicc side too? ” – This will be a few chapters long as it went with an idea I was working on at the time.

Chapter One

Work Count: 4684

Complete Story Warnings: Abuse, Language, Smut & Violence. 18+

You arrived to school Monday and the only parking space left was next to Billy's Camaro. You parked and got off your bike, pulling your helmet off and bumping into a little redhead.

“You're a little short for high school aren't you?” You asked and placed your helmet on your bike.

“That's because I'm in middle school,” she sneered back and you smirked at her. “Mind your own business.”

“You've got spunk, kid. What's your name?” You asked as you leaned on your bike and crossed your arms.

“Max Mayfield,” she mumbled. “You're new.”

“No, you're just new since I was here last,” you said. “(Y/N),” you said before holding out your hand and she took it.

“I have to get going,” she said before motioning towards the middle school and you nodded. “Bye.”

“Later,” you called before you headed inside.

“I hear you're Keg Queen,” Steve said from beside you as you dug through your locker. “How did you never beat my record?”

“I enjoyed saying I was screwing the Keg King,” you said with a smirk. Steve blushed and looked down with a little smile. “Jesus, Harrington,” you laughed. “I forget how soft you've gotten.”

“Well, it's better this way,” he said with a little smile. You closed your locker and you both headed towards your classes. “I hear Billy Hargrove is interested in you. Even after you punched him in the face.”

“Wow, he's resilient,” you said and seemed to have a thinking face. “Any rumors of how he is in bed?” Steve made a face and you laughed. “God, Steve. I mean, I'm just kidding.”

“Billy Hargrove is not the guy for you. He's an asshole and angry. He fucking almost killed me!” Steve argued.

“Then he might be perfect,” you said with a smirk. “Angry sex is the best sex.”

Steve managed not to react to your last comment, knowing you were baiting a reaction. “He's not a relationship type,” Steve tried.

“Who said anything about a relationship?” You smirked.

“I forgot you're not big on those either,” Steve said, raising his eyebrows. “Doesn't mean you can't turn a new leaf.”

“I'm going to throw up if you keep talking so I'm going to class,” you said with a laugh.

Steve smirked. “Fine but be good.”

“Never,” you grinned.

__ __

Billy was walking up to his Camaro when he saw you sitting on your bike. You had a leg on either side and sat, tugging on your jacket. Billy watched the sleeve slide up and saw a dark bruise on your wrist. He figured it was from Saturday, you had gotten pretty drunk.

“It's a nice bike,” Billy said to you, smirking over the top of his car.

“Nice car,” you said back as you began buckling your helmet. You met his gaze for a moment before looking back down to your bike.

“A Kawasaki KZ1000?” He asked as he came around towards you. He crossed his arms and leaned back against his car, a cigarette hanging from his lip.

“I'm impressed,” you said with a little smirk on your lips. “Ever ridden one before?”

“My friend back in California used to own a different make. Took that one out once,” Billy said, shrugging it off. He was doing his best to play it cool. He honestly couldn't believe he had made it this far into a conversation with you. He watched your black boots backup your bike and you smirked at him before taking the cigarette from his lips. You placed it between yours and Billy watched your slightly parted lips hold it.

“See you around, Hargrove,” you said through the smoke and cranked the bike before taking off out of the parking lot.

__ __

You were walking out of the cemetery when you saw Nancy Wheeler standing before a grave. You slowly walked up behind her and looked at the headstone. You realized your hunch was correct when you saw the name ‘Barbara Holland.’

“I heard they buried her when I was gone,” you mumbled and Nancy jumped. “Well, there was a funeral.” You walked up and stood beside Nancy. “Barb was the shit.” You had made friends with Barb when she helped tutor you through a class. It was an odd friendship but you didn't let anyone give her shit and she ended up being a close friend. That's how you had gotten to know Nancy and had actually introduced her formally to Steve.

You felt a level of guilt when it came to Barb. You hadn't gone to the party that night because you didn't want to be the odd man out. You had also wanted to let Steve feel free to show Nancy a good time. If you had known Barb was going to be there you would have gone to keep her company. You wondered if that may have saved her.

“She liked you,” Nancy hummed and looked back to the stone. The silence between you both continued for a few moments. “Listen, (Y/N) about Steve…” You stopped her by holding up your hand.

“Nancy, if you didn't want Steve you shouldn't have dragged him into it. End of story.” You said, showing her your point. “I don't hate you Nancy because I know shit happens but that doesn't mean I'm not allowed to be mad at you. Just let me get over it.”

Nancy swayed a little in her spot before nodding. “I know you always loved Steve. I'm sorry I hurt him.”

“I don’t love anyone Nancy,” you mumbled. She looked to you and you glanced at her before you backed up and turned, heading for your bike.

Nancy glanced down the row of stones and frowned. She knew in there somewhere was your father's. She had known you most of your life, you used to be such a happy person, friends with everyone and anyone. Once your father had passed you slowly became another person. Nancy had noticed a drastic change after your mother remarried, she figured you didn't like the idea of your father being replaced.

Jonathan slowly walked up behind Nancy and sighed a little before wrapping an arm around her. “You okay?”

Nancy nodded and gave a small smile. “Yeah,” she said and looked back to Barb’s grave.

__ __

Billy had noticed you didn't turn up at school for the rest of the week. Friday he saw your bike parked outside the restaurant that was still labeled Benny's Burgers, even after the previous owner had killed himself. Billy whipped his car into a parking spot and got out, going in.

Billy scanned the row of booths before he saw a black leather jacket and a pair of boots. Your face was hidden behind a menu as you laid across the seat.

He glanced at himself before he walked over to you and leaned an arm on the back of the seat across from you. “This seat taken?” He purred with a smirk on his face.

You dropped the menu down and looked at him over it, your mischievous eyes intrigued Billy. The menu dropped a little lower and he saw a smirk on your lips, the bottom one had been split sometime recent, he noted.

“Are you paying?” You asked, crooking an eyebrow at him.

“I wouldn't mind buying a girl a meal. I mean, normally that would mean we were on a date though,” Billy said before sliding into his seat across the table from you.

Your smirk dropped and you snorted at him with an unamused face. “I don’t do dates, Hargrove.”

“Two friends having dinner then?” Billy tried, taken aback by your sudden change in attitude.

“I wouldn't call you a friend but if you're paying, sure. I can be your friend till it's over,” you mumbled before looking back to your menu.

Billy was happy you weren't staring at him so you couldn't see the smile that crossed his face. He leaned back and played it cool, throwing his arm over the back of the booth seat. He nodded to the waitress who passed him a menu, a flirtatious smile on her face.

“Can I get you something to drink, Billy?” She asked with a gushing smile and it took all you had in you not to just laugh. Billy ordered a coke and the girl wrote it down before looking at him again. “I'll be right back with that,” she said with a purr before walking off.

“I think you just made her whole life,” you said with a laugh. “How sad for her.” You looked over your menu again.

Billy couldn't even respond before a coke was placed in front of him. He smiled at the waitress and thanked her in his charismatic way. She twirled a piece of hair around her finger and leaned onto the table a little. “Anytime.”

“Hey, airhead?” Both Billy and the waitress looked to you. “When you're done servicing him could you maybe get me a shake? Chocolate.” You smiled at her but it was the mischievous smirk that normally played on your features.

The girl rolled her eyes before walking off out back, stomping a little. “Well, that wasn't very friendly,” Billy said as he drummed his fingers on the table. He was half hoping jealousy had made you act out but he’d seen you in action enough to know you didn’t take kindly to being ignored.

“I can help you sleep with any girl in this town,” you said, glancing up to him. “But not until I get a milkshake.”

Billy laughed and leaned back against the wall, resting an arm on the table and leaving the other thrown over the back of the booth. “You want to be my wingman?” Billy asked, amused.

“I did it for Steve long enough,” you said with a little laugh. Before you finally set down your menu, having made up your mind. “But no. I don't want to be your wingman.”

“I thought you and Steve slept together?” Billy leaned his head back and squinted his eyes a little. He was wondering what your response was going to be.

“We did,” you said bluntly. “I helped him hook up and when he couldn't...we hooked up.” You shrugged like it wasn't a big deal and Billy had to close his mouth that was slightly hanging open.

“So you were together?” Billy asked and motioned with his hand like he wanted you to continue.

“No. We were friends that had sex,” you said plainly. Billy leaned onto the table with his elbows before a milkshake was loudly placed in front of you. “Thank you,” you said to the waitress.

She took your orders, snapping at you and smiling at Billy. You waited for her to walk off before eyeing your shake and then sipping it.

“You were okay with that?” Billy asked once the girl walked off.

“I wanted it that way. Told you, Hargrove. I don't date,” you mumbled.

“Why not?” Billy asked, leaning back onto his seat.

“I'd rather just have fun,” was all you offered before you leaned back yourself. You brought your legs up onto the seat and crossed them.

“So if you were my wingman, does that mean we would get to sleep together?” Billy wiggled his eyebrows with a smirk.

You smirked before laughing. “Hell, no.” Your response left Billy a little shocked.

“You slept with Steve!” He argued and you raised your eyebrows at how loud his voice was in the restaurant. You glanced to one of the other tables that looked at you in disgust. You smiled and waved your fingers at them until they looked away.

“I liked Steve,” you said finally before sipping your shake and glancing up at Billy. “I don’t like you,” you added with a shrug. “You’re totally too into yourself. You think you’re the hottest thing alive and the sun only shines to put a spotlight on you. Least Steve was a mostly decent human being. Well, he made sure I got off at least.” Billy nearly snorted his coke out across the table at your last comment. He brought an arm up to wipe under his nose.

Billy was a little irritated with your response and had to contain it. He just wanted to glare at you and list off all the reasons you were wrong but he didn’t. He sighed through his nose a little.

“Besides, you don't need help getting any. I've seen the way the girls fall all over you,” you said with a laugh. “It's really quite sad to watch, for them.”

You both sat and ate as he chatted up the waitress in front of you. He had magnetism, you couldn’t deny it and the girl was into him. She brought the check at the end of the meal and paused for a second with a shy smile at Billy.

“So, how about you give me your number and I’ll call you?” Billy purred and you smirked at him. He could easily to get dates, you knew he didn’t even need your help. The girl fumbled around with her pen and notepad before scribbling on it and handing it to Billy. “Thanks, doll,” he said before winking at her. She gushed and walked back into the kitchen.

“I need to go wash the stench of desperation from my clothes. I’ll be right back,” you said before heading into the bathroom. You heard Billy get up to pay for the bill.

Billy stood by the door with his hands on his hips, staring at the bathroom door. He heard the door open when he glanced down to his watch and saw you come out.

“You didn’t have to wait,” was all you said before going out the front door. He quickly followed out behind you and watched you get onto your bike.

“You coming to Tommy’s tomorrow? Smaller party, just a group of us hanging out?” He asked you, trying to get your attention before you left. You glanced to him as you buckled your helmet.

“Yeah, Tommy invited me,” you said before you turned over your bike, the loud noise being all you both could hear for a moment.

“Cool. I can give you a ride,” Billy said and motioned to his car. “It’s got heat,” he said with a little smile, hinting towards the cold ride on the bike.

You seemed to squint your eyes at him for a moment. You sighed like you were irritated and your shoulders came up into a shrug. “Fine.” Billy noted the slightly irritated tone. “Only because it’s forecasted to snow and I don’t want to fuck up my bike,” you mumbled before you revved it.

Billy contained the smirk that came onto his lips. “I’ll be at your house at eight.” Billy was so excited to hear you speak it took him a second to realize what you had actually said.

“Wait? How do you know where I live? I can just pick you up,” he motioned to your bike, not wanting you to walk or ride the bike over. He was more concerned with you knowing where he actually lived. He was hoping he’d caught you and you’d admit to asking about him, being interested.

“We live on the same street, dumbass.” You said before laughing and shaking your head. “You’re not very observant.”

“Well, which house is yours? I'll pick you up,” Billy said with a shrug. Billy honestly wanted to kick his own ass for being so unaware. He was trying to place your motorcycle on his street.

“I'll meet you at Elm and Cherry at eight,” was all you said before you backed up your bike.

“That's not very friendly!” Billy shouted with a smirk.

“I told you, we’re not friends!” You smirked before closing the visor on your helmet and driving off.

__ __

Billy checked his watch for the fifth time, it was 8:30 and he sighed, his dad and Susan weren't home yet. He had half expected you to show up at the house, demanding an explanation but you hadn't.

Billy sighed loudly and looked out the window again, he hadn't seen you walk by nor did he see Neil pulling in. He had taken forever to get ready and changed his shirt a handful of times. This was supposed to be his night to charm you not piss you off.

Any hope Billy had had for you to still be waiting for him was gone by the time 9:30 rolled around and Neil finally pulled in the driveway. Billy walked out the front door and down the front drive, keeping his head low. He was hoping not to draw Neil’s attention or have his father catch onto the fact he’d already gotten drunk inside while waiting.

“Billy! Where do you think you're going?” Neil asked with his booming voice.

Billy turned but kept his head ducked a little. “Just out with some friends, dad.” Billy could feel his father looking over him in entirety and swallowed when he came closer.

“Dressed like that?” Neil asked and his condescending tone made Billy glance over himself. “I mean first the earring, then this prissy boy hair, and now these clothes. How do you think you make me look?”

Billy opened his mouth a little and then closed it. He felt his face warm and ignored the welling feeling in his eyes. He couldn’t describe it but his father always had a way of making him feel so small and worthless. No one else could make him feel this way about himself and if they did, he would deck them for even trying.

“Just get out of my sight,” Neil hissed before he walked back up onto the porch where Susan had been watching with a frown. They both went inside and Billy glared at the closed door.

He quickly jogged over to his car and got in before he slammed his foot down on the gas and took off towards Tommy’s. He didn’t know what it was about him that bothered his father so much but it seemed like it was all he did lately. Neil had never been very patient with him when he was growing up but now that he was remarried, it was like it was even worse.

Billy pulled up at Tommy’s and looked to his left, seeing your bike parked beside him. He chewed his lip a little as he got out of the car and wondered how mad you were going to be with him. He hoped showing up late to the party would show you it wasn’t personal, that he’d just been late in general.

The music in Tommy’s house wasn’t as loud as it would normally be at a crowded party. There was probably only about twenty people tonight but somehow it still felt crowded to Billy. He slowly made his way over to Tommy in the kitchen.

“You made it!” Tommy cheered before he let a hand pat Billy on the back. “I thought you weren’t going to show up. Hey, are you drunk?” Tommy laughed when he asked the last question.

“I had some stuff I had to take care of.” Billy’s eyes scanned the kitchen but he didn’t see you. “(Y/N) here tonight?” He asked and Tommy seemed to have a knowing, smug face.

“I believe she’s in the basement with Reed,” Tommy said before sipping his drink and breaking eye contact with Billy. He cleared his throat a little and turned his attention to Carol who was beside him for a moment. “She was pretty drunk, man. She’s just trying to have a good time.”

Billy ignored the urge inside him to just smash something. Tommy’s basement was famous for the couch his parents had put down there a few years back. It wasn’t anything special but if people went to the basement, it was usually only for one thing. “How long ago did they go down there?”

Tommy kind of shrugged and glanced to Carol. “Probably about twenty minutes ago,” Carol answered.

Billy stomped off towards the basement and Carol and Tommy shared a gaze with one another.

__ __

“Reed,” you giggled as he kissed over your neck. “I told you I wasn’t going to sleep with you." You tried pulling your arms from where he was playfully holding them over your head but his grip held strong. “Okay, let go,” you said, your tone being playful He continued to hold you and pressed his mouth against your neck. You rolled your eyes, Reed was so delayed when he was drunk. You knew he wasn't trying to be forceful, he just couldn't pay attention when drunk. “Let go!” You shouted, trying to get him to hear you.

In a blink of an eye you were half dragged off the couch by Reed’s grip and shook your head. It took you a moment to realize what was going on. You were pretty drunk for it only being 10:00. You glanced up and saw Billy pressing Reed against the wall angrily before punching him.

“Billy!” You hollered before getting up and swaying a little. The pace of everything had changed so much from laying on the couch with sloppy kisses to all this sudden commotion and violence. “Billy, don’t!” You hollered and grabbed his arm to try and pull him back. At this point he was in a full fight with Reed who was fighting back against him.

“Tommy!” You hollered up the stairs, hoping for some backup. You went back to trying to break them up. “Billy, he didn’t do anything!” You didn’t know what was going through Billy’s mind but he was furious with Reed and it was apparent. Billy pushed you back in time for one of Reed’s sloppy punches to miss the side of your head.

“Both of you stop!” You got between the two of them at the wrong time and Billy’s fist collided with the side of your face, knocking you down.

To Billy it was like time stopped suddenly. One minute all he could feel was rage mixed with utter jealousy. He hadn’t meant to start the fight but when he heard you telling Reed to let you go and he didn’t listen, he had snapped. He’d only meant to pull him off but Reed’s smug face had pushed him over the edge. Like Reed thought he was better than Billy for getting a chance with you. All the fighting and quick motions went into slow motion when his fist connected with your face and you fell back, landing on your side against the floor. He heard you whimper and grab your face, he swayed in his spot a little, looking almost blankly to you. His fist still balled up, he looked down to it, seeing the hand that had just hurt you.

Reed seemed torn for a moment before he decided to take off up the stairs. He didn’t want Billy to become angry again and start back with his hard punches. Billy stayed standing above you as you held your face and squirmed a little. He heard you sniffle a little and then saw droplets of blood landing on the floor of the basement.

“I-I’m…,” Billy trailed off, still too distant in his mind to tell you he was sorry. He kneeled slowly beside you and reached out like he was going to rest a hand on your shoulder but he didn’t. He put his hands in his lap and just sadly looked to you.

You slowly sat yourself up after a moment. You looked to him with your slightly watering eyes and Billy had to force himself to not look away. He wanted to when he saw the gash on your cheek and your bleeding nose, the guilt eating him. He couldn’t let himself though, knowing he had done this made him only want to punish himself with the guilt.

“You punch really good,” was all you rasped out after a few moments before you let out a little laugh. You held the sleeve of your black sweater to your nose, getting the blood.

Billy made a sound and you couldn’t place it. It was like he had tried to laugh but nearly let out a sob. You frowned a bit at him and scrunched up your face. “You alright, Hargrove?”

“I just..,” Billy motioned to your face in bewilderment, not understanding how you were acting like nothing happened. “I hurt you,” he said finally.

“I got my face in the middle of two Alpha males duking it out,” you said. “That’s on me,” you said before resting a hand on his shoulder. You gently shook it and gave him a little smile, trying to get him to give you one. You had honestly never seen Billy with anything but a smirk on his face or some arrogant gaze. You were realizing you didn’t like when he looked sad or upset, this made you feel sad yourself.

“I don’t blame you, Billy,” you said quietly when he hadn’t spoken in a few moments and wouldn’t make eye contact with you. This brought his blue eyes to look into yours and you leaned over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You owed me one anyway!” You tried to joke, never liking a serious conversation.

He smiled sadly at you before wiping the blood from your cheek, when you didn’t flinch he felt a little better. You smiled at him to show that you were okay and wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, hugging him a little. You felt him hesitate for a moment and then hug you back.

“Just so you know, I don’t hug people,” you mumbled against his shoulder. You honestly couldn’t remember the last time someone had hugged you and neither could Billy.

He gently rubbed a hand up and down your back before pulling away. “I really am sorry.” Billy said, still looking upset.

“I know you are. Don’t worry about it,” you said and shoved his shoulder lightly. “I’m sorry that I got in the way,” you added. You slowly slid off your knees to sit yourself beside him and leaned into him a little, seeing him still looking upset with himself. He stared down to his hands that laid on his lap with the palms up. You gently reached over and gripped one. “Billy?” He glanced to you, slightly turning his head. “We’re okay.”

You sat with him for a little longer and let your head rest on his shoulder. You were a little drunk and it felt good to lean on him. Billy looked to the top of your head as you rested on his shoulder. This definitely was not how he had planned this night but as you held his hand and leaned against him, even if it was only because you were drunk, he couldn’t help but let himself feel like it turned out for the best.

“Come on,” you said after a moment and got up. “Let’s get some ice for your knuckles and my face,” you smiled down at him and held out your hand. He looked to your face before glancing to your hand and taking it. You helped him stand up and he bumped into you a little. Your smile shrunk a little bit as you looked into his eyes and his face was so close you could smell his cigarette from earlier.

Billy looked down into your eyes and was mesmerized. He let his tongue trace the inside of his bottom lip as they were slightly parted. He wanted to kiss you, just to lean down and connect his mouth to yours but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to ruin the first close time you’d both had together.

“So are we friends now?” Billy asked after a moment. He saw you blink and look to him kind of confused for a moment.

“Yes, Billy. We’re friends now,” you said after a moment. When a smile covered his face you found one on yours.

#billy hargrove x reader #Billy Hargrove #billy hargrove imagine #punk reader #steve harrington x reader #stranger things fic #my stranger fics #stranger things #mystrangerfics #dacre montgomery #dacre montgomer imagine #Nancy Wheeler #jonathan byers #hawkins

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thekingisjulian · 7 years

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A Trophy Father’s Trophy Son

"Washed up nostalgia, and thoughts of suicide. I thought that this was a dream... Turns out that it's my life" - Julian King

Suicide has always been around the proverbial corner for me. Every since high school, I've had a lingering desire to shed my mortal coil. Perhaps you cannot understand why someone would want to off themselves. I shall do my best to explain the phenomenon to the few dedicated readers who waste time masturbating to my words. Perhaps I should give some background to my story of despair and self loathing. Growing up, I never much had my father around. It was most likely because he was either drunk or in jail, sobering up from the night before. You see, my father had a very tough life. He chose to deal with it in way that are... unconventional. He liked to get high and drunk. Not that those are bad things, he just took it to the extreme. He wasn't a bad father by any means, he just had problems. My mother and he never married, and although I am the proud owner of his last name, she never really liked me hanging around him. She thought he would corrupt me. Which is funny, because she corrupted me in her own way. When I was five years old, my mother met my stepfather at the college she attended. He was a seemingly nice young man, and she immediately enjoyed his company. They began dating and he was very kind to me. A couple months after I turned seven, he asked for my mom to marry him. I wasn't thrilled at the idea, but it was not the first my mother would disregard what the fuck I thought. They sealed the deal, and much to my dismay, my stepdouche decided to become the father figure I was lacking. It wasn't but two or three weeks before the first ass bashing I would receive from him came knocking on my door. He kicked my 7 year old shitter pretty fucking bad that day. And then it wouldn't stop. That cock sucking, piece of shit, my mother's motherfucker. He would fuck me up for the stupidest things too. Not wearing socks in the kitchen, not wearing a shirt, saying "fuck you" when he hit me. All in all, the abuse that he inflicted on me, made me want to die. The first time I ever had the urge to kill myself, I acted upon it. I owned a Walther P99 semi-automatic pistol. For the longest time, I had a lucky bullet that sat on my dresser for years. I loaded that bullet into the chamber, just the one, because that is all I would need. I put the gun to my temple and said "Fuck this". Yeah... those were almost my last words. I breathed in deeply and pulled the trigger. "CLICK" That was the loudest noise I have ever heard. I had spent hours preparing myself to cease existence. The firing pin was faulty. FUCK! I thought to myself. Also, in hindsight, I really should've sued the ammunition company. (There is my macabre humor acting up) Post shitty ammunition, suicide was a large part of my life. I began to listen to death metal, and hurting myself so I could be sure that I could still feel something, albeit physical pain. It all went downhill (yes, even more that it already had) in November 2005. I was only eight years old. I was sitting on the grass in front of my grandparents house when my mom delivered the news to me. "Julian" she said, "Your dad passed away." For a moment, I felt nothing, then all of my emotions I had been trying to cover up came flooding back in a torrent. All at once. Fear, anger, pain, and sadness. All these came back to me, like an ex girlfriend who realized she truly did care about you. I sat for a moment in silence, and then it hit me like a hurricane. I began to cry, hard. Everything I had built up came crashing down with one swift stroke. I cried like a hungry baby with nay a tit to suckle. Then of course, suicide once again became a rather viable option. At the funeral, the only thing I could think of was his Millennium Falcon toy in the foyer. I really hoped I would receive it. (turns out, it wasn't until I was 14 or 15 that I got it) The pain was so hard, I decided to return to old habits of being unfeeling. A couple years later, I entered high school. I was the weird kid who no one wanted to be associated with. To this day, I'm still not sure why, maybe because I looked like Satan himself took his morning shit, and of all things, I was what came out. I was violent, thanks to my stepdouche's daily assaulting. I hated everything and everyone. Halfway through my second semester of senior year, I got involved with the wonderful world of drugs. Fuck smoking the "gateway drug", I started off right! I took ecstasy. My my my, what a wonderful drug! That was one of the greatest days of my life. Then next school day, while I was in class, the principal entered the classroom and asked for me to join him in the office. I didn't think much of it, because I was well acquainted with the principle and he asked me to do work for him sometimes. As I entered his office, the scene was not what I had expected. My mother and stepcunt were sitting in the couch that occupied the space frontwards of his desk. Oh shit, this is not good I thought to myself. I sat down in a chair opposite my Mother and her significant other. Long story short, I was expelled for using a controlled substance on the school campus. That was for sure the breaking point. I went off the deep end. I said "FUCK IT" and tried almost every drug in the books. I turned drugs into the only way I could feel. And feel I fucking could! It was some of the most amazing experiences that, to this day, are burned in my memory with a pleasant aroma of cigarettes and alcohol. Yes, the drugs were good, and the times were fun. However much I drowned my pain and sadness, suicide was still in the back of my mind. I swallowed a bottle of tylenol and survived. I was going to hang myself, but pussied out. I thought about blowing my brains out, but didn't really want to revisit that memory. Later in high school, I was continually bullied and fucked with. It got to the point where I acted as if it didn't bother me, but it did. Very deeply affected me at that. Some people are fucking assholes, and all they wanted to do was make me feel like shit. (which they succeeded at doing). At this point, I was done trying to kill myself. I've outgrown the selfish idea that me not breathing anymore would improve everyone's life ten fold. I've accepted the fact that suicide won't fix anything, that it just passes the problem on to people who care about you. But no matter what I do, the thought still lingers. What if? Sometimes it seems like the easy route, but in reality, the hard route is the way to go. Weather out your shit. Make it through, and though it doesn't seem like it at the moment, it will be better on the other side. Make it through one more fucking day, and the rest of your life could be on the other side. When no one seems to understand and you loathe yourself with every fiber of your being... Remember this. There is no one in the world who knows you better than yourself. Take that, and capitalize. Chase your motherfucking dreams. Through all caution aside, and because you don't possess the will to live, you have nothing to lose. The only way to go is up. Be who you want to be. Take off your clothes and love yourself. FUCK anyone who says that you aren't worth it. They are the ones who aren't worth shit. Love yourself for who you are, and never forget that #1, is you.

JULIAN KING

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aleatoryalarmalligator · 7 years

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About Me - Life Story Part 1

Dear tumblr,

Every few years I introduce myself in some fashion, just to keep an updated version of myself current. This year i decided to retry giving an elaborated, but still somewhat brief outline of my life story so far. I did this a few years ago, and i probably did it better back then - but i didn’t finish. And i lost half of it and the rest is on a computer i don’t really use anymore. I will write this saga in segments as to not to explode the heads of anyone who wants to read it by taking up too much time at once, or overdoing information, and it give myself time to go through the different parts. So here goes part 1.

My name is Renee Clariss Sanborn. I was born and raised in rural northern Idaho in a town called Kendrick that was ¼ meth town, ¼th Garth Brooks/hunters/trucker land, 1/4th early 1900's antiquity, and ¼ woods with no people. My house was an antique historical monument that my father bought for my mother so they could fix up based on my mother's fantasies of fixing it up to be a place where socialites from all over the world might visit (nothing of the sort ever happened). The home even has it's own wikipedia page – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_Kirby_House . I have two younger siblings, a brother and a sister, and two older half sisters, and 11 nieces and nephews, and two great nephews. I have a number of uncles and aunts too, but other than my grandmothers, I really have not spent a lot of time with most of them.

My father and mother met in a factory. My mom, Sandra, was very pretty and had spent most of her young life in an abusive marriage to her first husband. My father, Dave, was a failed musician, turned body builder, turned cocaine dealer. After a few years of a rocky relationship, my mother ended up getting pregnant, so my father stayed with her mostly based on that fact, and when I was three they moved us all out to Kendrick, with a population of 300 people.

My mom grew up near Couer de' Alene Idaho to a highly sociopathic and abusive father who made her and her mom and brother's lives hell. She also likely contracted lead poisoning since she lived for much of her time in a town called Smelterville where there has been very heavy lead poisoning due to the mines and stuff around that area. I don't really know what my mother was like when she was young other than she tended to follow boys around, soccer, and she sewed her own clothing. She did some modeling at a college for a short period, posing nude for artists to paint, though she never did go to college herself. My grandmother didn't like that and forced her to stop. My mom's first boyfriend took her up to Alaska when she was seventeen while they were building pipelines. She worked as a waitress at a strip club. She had my oldest sister up there, and shortly after her boyfriend ditched her. My mother refuses to say much about this time period, but from stories I have gathered from my family, the owner of the club was also a pimp, and he raped my mother and beat her and my sister Maria, and tried to force her to be a prostitute. I don't know the details of this situation, but when her and Maria escaped and came back to Idaho, they were both severely malnourished and bruised from head to toe.

My mom didn't really get along with the rest of her brothers and her own mom, and was a bit of the black sheep of the family. She moved down to Lewiston Idaho with Maria when she was nineteen. My mom, being apparently clueless, married the first man she saw in the first bar she applied to be a waitress on her first day looking for work in Lewiston. He was a very rich, older abusive drunk of a man. She stayed with him as a housewife for several years throughout the eighties, had my second half sister Roxanne, and eventually after ten years of marriage, she left him. A month later, she was working at the bullet manufacturing company and she met my dad.

My mom never really has felt love for men at all. She sees them as dumb creatures who are also dangerous who can pay your bills for you if you look good enough. So, that's how that worked out. My dad for whatever reason bought the shtick and after a few years of an on again off again relationship, and after finally having broken up permanently, was told that my mother was pregnant. Since my dad was kind of a fifties guy, he married my mom out of duty, and because he wanted to get out of disco-drug culture but didn't know how. So my existence was what more or less gave him reason to start life anew.

My dad never really knew his father. He has one very vague memory he says, of being in a highchair and seeing his father screaming at him because he would not eat the baby food on the spoon. My father's father, my grandfather I am told, was a very angry and abusive guy. They all lived in southern California. My grandfather Robert was a sailor, and my grandmother Betty who's father was a member of the mafia, but we never knew who he really was (a different story for a different day), was raised by nuns and for her entire life, both chain smoked continuously, and was absolutely phobic of just about everything. For this reason, she never learned to drive. She would cry hysterically when it rained. She talked the way fifties women should talk, only she had a slightly more baby-talk way of speaking. Anyway, my grandfather was a very physically abusive man, and it's been suggested that he was probably bipolar. But he didn't really live long enough to figure much out. He was hit by a drunken semi driver who went in the wrong lane. And so my father and his family packed up and moved to Lewiston Idaho.

My dad grew up without a father, and so he followed his older brother Bob around, who was and is highly intelligent and also quite criminal. There was always a rivalry between him and Bob, with Bob always being jealous of Davy. This is only notable, in that it came to shape who my father was. My dad was one of those very simple 50's boys who actually needed a father in his life. I don't believe that all boys 'need' dads, and I think that can be a very outdated idea that implies that male influence is better than women's, or that family structures have to have that patriarchy in them. But my dad longed for a male figure to look up to. Behind a lot of his attitude throughout his life, I think that underneath it all he is still trying to live up to some invisible male expectation that was never laid out for him.

In the late 60's, my dad became one of the few kids in the town of Lewiston to be a hippie. This was a very big deal, and he got into a lot of fights for it, for having long hair. He did LSD over three hundred times before he turned 17. He became a bassist in a band that played a sort of New York Dolls style of music, though they mostly did covers. After high school they toured all over the north west and were considered quite a popular act in their day, considering the scarcity of that kind of music in the inland north west. After three or four years however, the entire band had gotten very much into drugs, and were not able to keep a tight ship. My dad has always been sort of a fool about people. He cannot tell when people are his friends, he tends to act in a way to play all his cards. He also is very extroverted, at times quarrelsome and overbearing. So they likely started to play him like a fool. My father bought most of the instruments and speakers with money he inherited when he was 18 from a trust fund set up because of his father's death. They stole his instruments and they kicked him out of the band.

He cut his hair and at some point developed a taste for body building and Huey Lewis and the News. He applied at the local bullet factory that paid well, and after ten or so years of dealing coke and being a steroids taking self centered – and most likely totally dickish asshole, he met my mother and decided that was a good idea for whatever reason. (I apologize for my thinking that my parents relationship, and my birth were terrible ideas).

So my oldest sister Maria, who is eleven years older than me has some serious mental health problems. She displays very strong signs of Borderline Personality Disorder. I am not diagnosing her per say, but from what I have read, she really does fit all the criteria. My mom for whatever reason decided to distribute love very unevenly among her children (my mother also has some serious issues). Maria had it the worst. My mother's first husband hated Maria and made her life a fearful hell, Maria's own father didn't want anything to do with her, and my father was also abusive to her. My mom would literally push Maria away when she was a child and needed a hug. This really affected Maria for the worst. She stopped going to the bathroom on the toilet, and this was when she was eight. She started lying and stealing compulsively. And my mom kept shipping Maria off to other families, other friends from work, whoever she could con into taking Maria, some of these families also being abusive. It was very clear that my mom just didn't want Maria.

My dad came into the picture, and he being an aggressive dummy – particularly in those times, would make a habit of whipping her whenever she wet herself. This went on this way till she was twelve. Maria tried to commit suicide when she was eleven by drinking a bottle of rubbing alcohol. My mom found out, but even then, my crazily cold mother didn't seem to care. My dad did care, but he and my mother were both horrible about this, and instead chalked all of this behavior up as just ways to get their 'attention' as though that were something Maria didn't deserve, and she was scolded for her suicide attempt. I honestly, for the life of me cannot understand why nobody in my family took Maria to see a mental health professional. Instead, she was further ostracized and resented until she ran off when she was fifteen.

This behavior from my mom and dad's part really goes to show what kind of cold selfish people the two of them can be. It's confusing because they are not always this cruel, there seems to be random bursts of care at random times. It's hard to explain. But I have seen this side to my parents. I use this as a reference because anything I might say from personal experience is bound to be a bias interpretation. Maria's case is clear cut abuse and I can site it to make my point when I need to.

Roxanne, my second oldest half sister had a much different life than Maria. Roxanne was very hyper and giggly. She was my mother's pride and joy. She would go on to spoil Roxanne terribly. Buying her whatever she wanted on a whim. She was considered everything Maria was not. Maria grew up with this little impish angel dancing around her, and Maria grew to hate Roxanne to the point of putting Roxanne in some very dangerous situations hoping she could get Roxanne maimed in some way. Roxanne was also one of those little children that wants to start dating when they are kindergartners. I grew up with Roxanne as a sort of role model in some ways. She always seemed really cool to me. I didn't have her energy though. I also had a different father, and was raised under different circumstances. I was always fearful where she was always foolishly fearless. She was tall and thin, where I was clumsy and pudgy. Roxanne would laugh on a roller coaster, and I would always cry. In this way, we were just very different. The similarities are mostly in our facial structure – out of all my siblings, I look like her the most I think. And I tried very hard to be a cool 90's girl like her.

When Roxanne was thirteen, her father's girlfriend sent photos of her to seventeen magazine. They accepted her, and for a short while, it looked like Roxanne was going to be a model. But at the same time, Roxanne had been sleeping with boys and partying. She was only twelve when she started doing this. I remember very vividly that we shared a room. Roxanne would always torture me in some fashion, but then she would wait till she thought I was asleep, and she would climb out the window and off into the night to go do god knows what. I never told on her.

So, at age twelve, she got pregnant. It was kept as a secret from my father for a time, but then he found out and all hell finally broke loose completely in the family. My father didn't feel like Roxanne had any business raising children and thought she should put the baby up for adoption. Roxanne wanted to keep the baby and my mother stood by her on this decision. On top of this, my mother had stopped working for a few years around this time and had ran up 80,000 dollars in debt – mostly on things you order on television and clothing for Roxanne. So my dad was working constantly trying to keep up with my mom's spending. She simply would not stop. They had half finished fixing up the old house, but it was clear at this point that half done was all it would ever be. Also, my mom had my brother and sister as babies around that time, so that added to the stress of it all. Maria had caused fights until she moved away to live with her boyfriend. I had had a brother William who, due to a drunken doctor, was born brain dead and died five days later in the hospital. This loss kind of ruined my parent's marriage. It was all just crumbling.

So there was a bitter war in the house, and general tension that my dad would explode. Roxanne had grown to hate my father for being the meathead who tried to keep a patriarchal order in the home who called the cops on her when she ran off to do drugs for days at a time. My mother resented my father because he didn't like her spending, because he talks constantly and over everyone else (he still does), and he never seemed to listen at all, and by this time it was clear that I was his favorite person in the family, so at six, though I was not aware of it at the time, I was resented by my sister and my mom.

So, what happened next, during this time was, Roxanne made up a story that my father had molested her when she was young. It was shocking, and it caused a lot of problems for my personal morals – not knowing the truth of the situation until I got much older and Roxanne confessed that she lied. This basically made my father evil in my mother's eyes. So, she kicked him out of the house. And then my mother drove off to party. My dad was living in a camper somewhere at this time, working three jobs, still paying the bills. Roxanne had accused him of the most foulest crime ever. It was really something.

At this point, I want to take a step back though and explain that even though this sounds bad, and in some ways for me it was, I personally did not live this life that everyone else had chosen for themselves. My personal world was quite magical and I was not fully affected by the circumstances in my family.

From my perspective, my mother was always distant. This might have affected the kind of nurturing person I am, or rather, am not. I felt very distant from my own femininity because I didn't really get allowed in the female circle of my family. I was pushed away, and this essentially made my father the major influencer over me. I am not like other girls. I don't know why, but I think it is because of my mother's lack of involvement with me whatsoever after age three. She didn't play with me, hug me, or talk to me. I remember her as a silent statue while my father just blabbered and blabbered. It may be one of those mysterious favoritisms my mother has, but it might have simply been that she resented that my dad loved me more than he did her or her other daughters. In any case, it wasn't my fault. She favored Roxanne over me, and so having been rejected by the mother figure, I went to my dad for reassurance. This kind of set the stage I think for how I am able to fit in in female social circles as a whole. I have female friends in my life, but they are never like other female friends. And the girls I hang out with have always been social outcasts. And I usually feel like an outcast even to them.

However, my mother was good at providing me with a sort of homemade way of living. She sewed half my clothes, which were generally frilly old fashioned outfits. Half my toys were actually antiques. I was taught to pick up after myself. I became quite organized. Breakfast was made for me every morning on an antique tray, that I would take into my antique table, and chair, and I would eat my meal and then put it outside the door. I was very self sufficient when I was young and I never got bored. The bread we ate was homemade. She was really good this kind of thing. I think growing up in an old house, with a wood stove, with old fashioned furniture, clothing, living in a town of old fashioned brick buildings with old men that still dressed like it was the 20's gave me this really strong sense of bygone eras. I was somewhat immersed in antiquity from a young age.

My best friend in the world growing up was actually my grandma. Until age five, my phobic chain-smoking afraid-of-everything grandma lived in a few upstairs rooms in the house. She always owned cats. She always smelled like cigarettes. I would visit her just about every other day and we would watch Bob Ross, and Mr. Rogers. I used to hold her hand and push on her big mushy veins. When the weather was bad, my mom and dad would not let me near her door, knowing that she was secretly crying in fear. I only found out later what was happening. She had two cats, Stanley and Booker. My father hated cats back then, and he resented her love of animals. My grandma Betty, and my mother however, did not get along. My dad didn't agree with either one of them, but they put him in the middle of their squabble. Eventually, my grandma moved to live with my dad's younger brother Steve. It was very hard for me, and my family didn't tell me till she already moved.

I had a lot of structure when I was young. I do remember the sorrow in the house when William died. That kind of changed things. But everyone was quite nice to me, aside from Roxanne, who delighted in picking on me. I had a friend up the street named Colt, who would come to my house and we would make mudpies. There was a public pool that was open in the summers, and a creek that ran through the town. It was a beautiful place to grow up when you were very small. The old people that my grandma Betty would sometimes visit down at the diner would always dote over me, in my antique style dresses my mother sewed for me. I remember these days very positively.

I mostly looked forward to my father coming home after work. I used to eat dirt for some reason and I think I got worms at some point for this. I found scissors one time as well, and I chopped half my hair off. My mother had to chop off the other side to make it even, and I cried thinking I looked just like a boy. I used to play games where I made ants have competitions to see which one could live the longest in water. It was probably the meanest thing I ever did. I was generally a very calm and well behaved child. There were only three times I ever got into trouble. The first one was, I decided I wanted to be a black person. I am not sure at all where this came to me. I just felt that I should be black. I didn't know anyone who was black. I just thought black skin looked better. I just felt like my family didn't understand me for this. I decided I was going to change my skin color with dirt. I realize this story might seem kind of racist to anyone reading it, but I am attempting to just be honest about what happened, I was four and I didn't mean anything at all to be insulting, other than having an honest need to change the color of my skin. I wasn't trying to be funny. I seriously thought mud would do the trick somehow. I got naked, went outside, filled up a basin with mud, and completely soaked myself in it. Then I proceeded to walk around covered from head to toe in mud naked in broad daylight down the street. My father came home from work, he saw me and I not only got hosed down with cold water that made me cry, I also got whipped. My dad is racist too, so he probably indoctrinated me with some terrible bullshit to defer me from wishing I had dark skin.

Aside from my mother buying things online, she also would buy animals we could not take care of, birds, fish, iguanas, cats, dogs, pigs. We'd keep them for a short while, before they would eventually die or we would have to get rid of them. She never would talk to my dad about it at all. She would just wake up one morning and buy the animal. My dad would come home and there we would have three iguanas, or a new dog, or whathaveyou. We had a pig for a short time named Angie. Angie was my friend. I would pet her and feed her popcorn. She was a very sweet little pig. Eventually my father got rid of her, selling her to essentially be slaughtered. After this I refused to eat meat. I didn't know that meat was animal flesh until that point where it was explained to me by Roxanne, and it took a a lot of firm punishment to get me to eat meat after that. I eventually did of course go back to the brainwashed world of meat eating, but I never really forgot it entirely, which is why I eventually went vegan as an adult as soon as I was able to as an adult.

The third thing I did was uncharacteristic of me and shocked my family. My best friend Colt had a cousin named Carrie. Carrie was very well liked by the adults. All the kids wanted to play with her. She lived far away, so her visitation was also taken as a celebration. Even Roxanne liked her over me. She said so herself. I remember sitting off away from everyone else by the trees. Carrie wasn't mean to me or anything, but I remember feeling like I needed to set things right in some way. I felt like Carrie threatened my place I guess. I was instantly left out the second she came to visit. I was a very introverted child and I didn't know how else to get attention other than to be at the right place at the right time. So I went and found a big stick. It might have been Carrie's birthday, I cannot quite remember. I walked straight up to her friendly smiling face, and I remember mindlessly whacking her as hard as I could in the face with the stick. The funniest thing about this incident is that I was not mad at Carrie. I did not do this aggressive thing because I was mad at her. I remember feeling compelled, but not by strong emotions. Which was why I was equally confused when everyone around me began scolding me. It even confused me why Carrie was crying. Nobody could understand why I did what I did. I didn't feel guilty because I didn't understand it either. It just happened. Everyone around me was angry at me or in shock. I just felt confused by the entire event.

A week before I started school, my friend Colt (who moved at the end of that summer), convinced me to put a bead up my nose. I remember it very well. It was a pretty red sparkly one. I put it up my nose, and I could not get it out. Eventually Roxanne found out, then my mother. Everyone did everything they could but it was lodged into the very back of my nostril at this point. So I was driven forty miles to the hospital, where they used some strange doctor's equipment and pulled it out. I remember feeling very relieved. A week later, I turned five. My father found this obscure Japanese cartoon that I fell in love with – which just so happened to be Totoro. They took me all the way up to Spokane to Chucky Cheese (which wasn't really as fun as I had hoped – all the kids seemed really wild and the pizza was sub par). It felt like the rites of initiation.

Anyway, school officially sucked. Kindergarten was probably the hardest year of school I ever had. My grandmother had moved away. Maria had moved out, and despite being a pain to the family or whatever, she was actually quite sweet to me, always letting me look at her stuff, she would read the bible to me, teach me cheesy songs by guns 'n' roses. I didn't really know about how often she stole, or lied. I didn't know about the orgies or how she ripped up her papers in class. I thought Maria was a beautiful princess. Anyway, she was gone. My grandmother had moved. Colt moved away as well. He had been my best friend for two yeas of my short life, and he was gone. I had just gotten a bead pulled out of my nose.

Maria had me watch Crybaby for the first time. I was enchanted. At five I was madly in love with Johnny Depp in Crybaby. I didn't see it as a satire, or a comedy. I thought of it as a really intense romance. I was absolutely obsessed and consumed by any passion that a very little girl that I was could possibly feel for someone. I was probably more in love with Johnny Depp than my parents had ever been with each other if I am going to be honest. My mom, though obsessed with her boyfriends, has never actually been in love at all. I am not sure she really actually likes men, or trusts them. And my father is not a romantic person. I think by definition he would be considered aromantic by scales of sexuality/gender/and romantic inclination. He just sees utility in human interaction and no poetry at all. I kept trying to draw Johnny Depp over and over. I also by extension thought Elvis was pretty nice too. It was never good enough. I was a bit of a perfectionist. I remember crying because my drawings kept looking like a typical ungifted child's drawings. I wanted to make adult art. I was not capable of it. I remember the frustration. But it was this early age that I decided I wanted to grow up to be creative. I realized that with art, you can take the beautiful things in the actual world, and you can insulate them and pack them together into music, stage, words, and pages of lines and color. And you can study those beautiful things and work with them in their purity in a way that life rarely provides the opportunity for.

#text

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whxtiswriting · 5 years

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Into the Fire ||

Castiel was the only son of a rich man, who’s wife had died when castiel was really young. Because of her death, Castiel was raised by his over-protective father, and a kind and caring nanny.

Castiel was shuffling against the chair he was sitting on. “Do we have to interview another Assistant?” Castiel asked, worriedly. “Well you scared your last one out of here without a two weeks notice, Cas, and you cant go without one, so I figure yes. The next interviewee, is Dean Winchester. Benny recommended him.” “I dont want an assistant.” Castiel complained, “I’m an adult, Dad.” He argued.

“Shut up, Castiel. Sit still, and behave. I don’t want you scaring this assistant off.” His father warned. “Yes, sir.” Cas agreed quietly.

A servant led a tall handsome man into the living room, “Sirs, This is Mr. Winchester.” “Thank you.” Michael dismissed them. “Please, have a seat.” He motioned to the couch across from himself and castiel. “It’s nice to meet you.” Dean said, taking a seat. “This position is for a live-in assistant for my son, Castiel.” Michael said, motioning to cas. Cas chewed his lip, looking down at his hands. “As a live-in position, you would be given two hours a day, to take care of your own personal responsibilities, and one day off a week.” Michael explained, looking at him. “Okay.” Dean agreed quietly. “What is the schedule like? Do I set it?” “The scheduling is based around what you and castiel will discuss. You can discuss any scheduling needs with him once you get the job.” “Okay.” dean agreed softly. “Why did the last assistant leave?” Michael looked at castiel. Cas swallowed nervously. “Um- We had a disagreement.” Cas said quietly. “So he left.” “I see.” Dean said quietly. “So when would I start?” “As soon as possible. Your background check already came in, and I’m willing to push the paperwork in today.” Michael responded. “That sounds wonderful.” Dean agreed, looking over at Michael, and then Cas. “I’m honored for the opportunity.” “Wonderful.” Michael said. “We’ll have our car take you to get your stuff.” Michael replied, getting up and shaking deans hand. Castiel waited until dean left to look at his father. “So-Was it really necessary for me to be here? You’d already decided to hire him.” he accused. “I had.” Michael agreed, looking over at castiel. “You needed to meet him.” “I could have met him after you hired him.” Castiel sassed. Michael grabbed him by his shirt. “Don’t you sass me.” He hissed. Castiel paled. “Yes sir.”

“Go and work in your room, I’ll have your new assistant up there once he’s settled in.” Michael instructed. “Yes sir.” Cas agreed, walking off. He walked over to the kitchen on his way to his room, stopping to see benny. “Hey, Ben?” Castiel asked, quietly. “Yeah?” He answered, looking up from the vegetables he was chopping. “Your friend, Dean-” Cas said, leadingly, as he slipped up onto the counter and looked down at his feet, “Is he nice? Dad just hired him to be my assistant.” “He’s a good guy, Cas. he’ll be nice to you.” Benny said. “Now, get your ass off my counter. Aren’t you supposed to be doing something else?” “Dad wants me to go to my room.” Cas complained. “I just- Is he really nice?” He asked. “Like he’s not going to get mad I’m gay and then storm out and make my dad mad at me?” he asked quietly. “Kyle was an asshole.” Benny replied. “Go- your dads got a temper when you dont listen.” “Okay. Later, Ben.” Castiel sighed, slipping from the counter and trudging up to his bedroom. He plopped on his bed and stared up at his ceiling. It was painted like a night sky, and he imagined he was floating in outer space. He and his old assistant had kissed on this bed- under the false stars. Castiel had refused to sleep with him- Kyle got mad, and left- quitting. Castiel sighed, looking up at the ceiling, and thinking about space. A while later, There was a knock on the door. “Castiel?” Dean asked. “You can come in.” Castiel sighed, sitting up and crossing his legs on his bed. “I’m sorry to bother you. I’m not really sure what the real requirements of this job are- but there are some guys moving my stuff into a room down the hall.” Dean shrugged. “Dad just likes there to be someone around for me.” Cas replied quietly. “You just keep me company, or whatever. Kyle didnt do much.” Cas shrugged, “You can-You can do whatever you want, I guess. Dad gives tasks, like ‘make sure im studying’ and stuff but other than that, its nothing.” “What do you do all day?” Dean asked quietly, sitting down on a chair across the room from castiel. “I do workbooks, read, and occassionally go out to the garden.” Cas replied. “And I bother Benny, a lot. Oh, and I made out with my last assitant once or twice. And if you ask the maids, I drink in the bathroom, and I cause general mayhem.” “Wow, thats a lot. How do you have time for it all?” Dean asked. “I forgot to say that I smoke in the bathrooms as well.” Cas laughed, looking over at dean. “I’m a caged animal.” He explained, shifting. “I want stimulation. I make time for it.” He shimmied some. “You wanna drink with me?” He asked, smiling. “I probably shouldn't, I just started this job, after all.” Dean said, getting up. “Fine. Go settle in, I’ll see you around.” Cas replied, getting up and grabbing his smokes from a hideaway book on his desk. “I’m gonna go smoke in the bathroom. And- If my dad asks you to spy on me? Give me a heads up- please.” Cas asked, before slinking into the bathroom and lighting up. He sat on the sink and smoked, breathing out the window and closing his eyes. His dad hating when he smoked- his dad hated everything he did, really. After he put his cigarette out, he slipped off the sink, washed his hands, brushed his teeth, and walked down to the kitchen. He wanted to steal a wine from the wine cellar and get drunk. He slipped past the kitchen staff and into the cellar, grabbing a bottle from the rack. He took it back up to his study, sat on the floor, and began drinking it straight from the bottle. He was being extra reckless-he knew his father was always looking for reasons to punish him.

A while later, Dean came into the study. “Hey, Cas.” He said, sitting down with him. “Benny said to tell you that your dad was digging around in the wine cellar.” Castiel took a deep breath, then a deep long drink of the alcohol he’d stolen, and he looked at dean. “You ever been baptised by fire?” He asked dean. “What do you mean?” Dean asked. “Youre about to be, as they say ‘into the fire.’” Castiel said. “Cheers!” He laughed, standing up. “It’s about to get really loud in here-” he looked down. “You might want to take your two hours of freedom now.” Cas suggested, a little jumpy. Dean followed him to his feet. “Are you sure?” “Castiel Michael Novak!” Michael called, his footsteps were loud as they approached. Castiel shuffled nervously. “Theres a side door-it goes to my room. Take it and leave.” He instructed dean.

Dean hesitated- just long enough for Michael to storm into the study and grab castiel by his throat.

“You lying little shit- Thieving little whore-” Michael hissed, shoving castiel into a bookshelf. Dean tensed, his hands were shaking. He slipped out of the room-and out of the bedroom, and he crashed into benny in the hallway. “Hey, woah, whats going on? Where’s the fire?” Benny asked, steadying them. Dean was having a panic attack, he couldnt calm down. His eyes were wide, and he was shaking. Benny had seen it before- dean had ptsd issues, and he was used to it. Benny led him to the kitchen and gave him some ice-which he held to deans face and he used it to completely reset his body. “What happened?” Dean was calm again, but he held the ice in his hands. “Did you know that Michael is abusive?” He asked, looking up at benny. “When you recommended me for this job, did you know?” Benny paled. “Yeah.” “He’s up there right now-” Dean said shakily. “My dads a doctor, Should I call him?” “Bobby? Only if it gets bad. I forgot that- I didnt think about what seeing that would do to you.” Benny said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“It-its fine. I gotta go check on sam. Call me to let me know if I need to bring bobby back with me” Dean instructed-before walking out of the house.

He was trembling when he walked into his house. He went to his brothers room, and sat down. Just to listen to the monitors beep.

Sam was unconscious. His condition waxed and waned for bad and worse. Dean liked to come in here and listen to his brothers heart beat. It calmed him.

He took sams hand and just held it. Sam wasnt awake very long each day- he had good days now and then, but most of the time he just laid there unconscious.

He had a strong heart- though. Dean curled up on the couch next to Sam's bed and held his hand.

Bobby came in a while later. "Dean? I didnt expect to see you home so soon."

"I think I have to quit." Dean said quietly.

"You just started." Bobby said, in disbelief. "Is the guy that bad?"

"Hes about Sam's age, a little older. Its not him thats the problem- though he has his challenges-" dean mused. "Its his dad. He-hes abusive- though I'm not supposed to talk about it. I signed an NDA."

"I'm sorry." Bobby said, sitting down next to deans feet. "Who is it youre working for again?"

"The novaks." Dean said, looking at Sam. "I didnt want to be away from Sam anyway and now-"

"You dont have to keep the job- but ive met that Novak kid. Hes a good kid." Bobby said. "And he sounds like he needs a friend."

Dean sighed. "I dont know what to do about this."

"You'll figure it out." Bobby reassured him.

#posted to the wrong blog #writings #cas and dea #dean #abuse #ptsd #i write for a friend and idk what to do with these #incomplete

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miss-m-calling · 7 years

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Rare Pairs 2017 letter

Dear writer,

Thank you for writing for me! I hope my prompts inspire you, I am very eager to read whatever you write.

My AO3 page

Pairs I’m requesting:

-Charlotte Wells/Thomas Haxby (Harlots)

-Niobe/Titus Pullo/Lucius Vorenus (Rome)

-Oliver Baumer/Eric Love (Starred Up)

On to the ships (likes and DNWs are at the bottom of the letter)!!

Harlots

Thomas Haxby/Charlotte Wells

I fell in love with this show in a way I hadn’t with any show in a while: the gritty period detail, the rich characters and relationships, the unsentimental view of money and sex (nobody has an epiphany thanks to a shag, despite Charlotte/Marney flirting with it), all the stuff about gender and sexuality and class in Georgian London. And then, cherry on top: I got a surprise new ship between the harlot with a crisis of identity/conscience and the judgmental yet not-so-above-it-all servant of her “keeper.” I just loved their sniping, constantly-competing, wearing-masks-yet-also-letting-slip-real-vulnerabilities, oddly-similar-in-precarious-situation, no-we-will-not-admit-any-sympathy-for-each-other, actual class-transgressing hatesex-y dynamic. They’re both difficult, sometimes unsympathetic, and on occasion treat each other so cruelly, and yet, and yet - it’s the dysfunction and the potential that thrills me. I was super disappointed in how it all comes to nothing much in episodes 6-8, so the prompts I’m including are mostly pre-canon, missing scene, or canon-divergent. Just give me more of Charlotte and Haxby being THEM. Any and all other canon characters are welcome, though I’d appreciate it if you didn’t try to soften Sir George’s (mostly hilarious) awfulness.

Pre-canon: their interactions during the first day, night and/or morning after Charlotte spent in Sir George’s House -- or same on the day George moved her in permanently -- how they suss each other out and establish their constant struggle for position within the household.

Missing scene: just anything with them interacting on an average day, especially if it includes Charlotte taking Haxby out of his comfort zone, as she did in episode 2. I have a headcanon about Charlotte’s love of fruit that might inspire you - see my tagged posts here for some general rambling about this ship.

Canon divergence: oh man, so much potential! So many ways this could have played out! What if Haxby does end up having to help cover up Sir George’s murder? Either he showed up at the Wells house (Sir George did ask for him while he lay dying) and had his arm twisted into helping, and if Charlotte needs to fuck him into temporary compliance -- though ha we know that didn’t work the first time -- then Ma Wells is fine with that and will provide a room, whether it actually happens or not. Or Charlotte was the one to stab George when he tried-but-didn’t-live-long-enough to rape her -- she ate a lot of fruit, there was bound to be a knife lying around. What if Lady Caroline moved to London for the season, forcing George to install Charlotte in a separate residence -- and then he “gives” her Haxby to act as butler, purse-string-holder, and of course spy? Or George starts sleeping away a lot, leaving Charlotte and Haxby basically alone in his house night after night (there are other servants, but we barely see them and they never speak) -- with those two left alone, pretty much anything could happen. What if they both managed to catch a clue either before or after hallway sex and realized that they’d be much better off as allies than as enemies, since they’re both vulnerable to George’s whim (I have some thoughts on this too in my tagged posts)? What if the season ended still with Haxby getting turfed out by Lady Caroline, but he somehow gets hired (as a servant, bootblack, porter, etc.) by Lydia or Margaret, and Charlotte does indeed have him to command now, even if at first she may not want to deal with him or may only want to humiliate and berate, but then eventually she (or he -- remember the hallway) gets ideas?

Didn’t know where else to put this: can a bit of dialogue serve as a prompt? Just throwing this out there, either one could say either line: “What have you done to me?/I hate you for what you’ve done to me.” “I assure you it is entirely mutual.”

Rome

Niobe/Titus Pullo/Lucius Vorenus

This is the threesome of my heart, in one of the forever-shows-of-my-heart. Basically: ignore Niobe dying (Vorenus can still grumble about her infidelity on occasion) and Vorenus supposedly dying, and give me these three being domestic, in Rome or in rural Italy. Vorenus still being a principled grump who can be tough to be around, Pullo still being happy-go-lucky and not the brightest yet deeply loyal, Niobe being equal parts tactful and willful, interested in the good life and able to make the best of imperfect situations.

If you feel like writing some threesome smut, I would adore a fic with any/all of the following: Niobe/Pullo happening in front of Vorenus, with his knowledge, and seeing his reactions (jealous in spite of agreeing to it, aroused, ashamed of his arousal) before he’s enticed into joining in; Vorenus being Vorenus while letting Pullo fuck him with Niobe’s help and participation; the POV shifting between the three of them (Niobe maybe initially worried then delighted since she’s the one who balances things out, Pullo always delighted but also aware that fucking his bloody-minded best friend and best friend’s lovely wife is complicated as well as pleasant, Vorenus having to be difficult and angry about everything - including Pullo probably letting Vorenus fuck him long before they switch because Vorenus wants to but Real Roman Men Don’t - before he can enjoy it and allow it to happen); Pullo says something Pullo-like to almost ruin the mood while being very emotional whether he wants to be or not; Niobe taking charge because the men need to get over themselves but can’t manage it without her gentle help; Niobe and Vorenus sharing a tender moment during the three-way.

If you prefer not to write smut, tell me how these three make it work at home or in relationships with other people (does Lyde or someone else figure it out?) How would they navigate the period of Roman history covered by S2 or its aftermath? Or what if they moved to another part of the empire (I would love a fic which includes some period-appropriate detail)? Some more specific prompts: one or both of the men get drunk/in trouble at a tavern, Niobe and the sober(er) of the men to the rescue (yes, humor would be great too, in this prompt probably with some bloodshed). They celebrate a ritual or make a sacrifice, usually performed by one person or a couple, as a threesome, and how do the three of them think the gods will respond, or will they? The men brag and probably get into an argument telling war stories, then Niobe “shows off her battle scars” and tells some of her adventures as a single mom in the big bad city. Given their temperaments, how does it work when these three want to kiss or hug, or if any two of the three do and the third witnesses it and wants in?

Bit of dialogue as a possible prompt or bit of “business” in the fic: “Juno’s cunt/Jupiter’s cock [whatever fits the situation]” “That’s blasphemy! [or other Roman equivalent of ‘Language!’]”

If you want to mention the kids, with or without Cesarion, that’s fine, just please don’t make this a pure kidfic.

Starred Up

Oliver Baumer/Eric Love

I maintain that this movie’s only major flaw is getting Oliver out of the action before the story’s climax (not like that!). Yes, the final denouement with Love father and Love son was great, as was the hint at the end that Eric learned something in anger-management classes and has a support network that will help him a lot, but I would have wanted to see more of the intriguing dynamic between Eric and Oliver, the intelligent, semi-feral, yet not-incorrigible criminal and the educated, dedicated, kind yet aware of his own potential for violence counselor. The confrontation and oddly flirtatious way Eric quickly gets a rise out of Oliver when Oliver comes to pick him up from his cell, the way Oliver immediately jumps to Eric’s defense when they meet under such adverse circumstances, how Eric barely puts on a front before he lets Oliver and the men in the group influence him -- it all made me want more. I would love to see Oliver return to holding his group in prison, so the two of them can interact more, either in the movie’s immediate aftermath or years down the line (it was hinted that Eric will be serving a very long sentence).

Some prompts -- if you’d prefer to keep it smut-free and relatively sublimated, I’d love more scenes from anger management or the free-flowing conversations in group, either with the other men present or in a one-on-one session between Oliver and Eric, as they deal with their personal histories and experiences (what did Eric do to land in jail and get starred up? Was his story about child abuse bullshit to provoke Oliver, or the tip of a shitty iceberg that was Eric’s life? What about Oliver - why does he, by his own admission, NEED to be there, volunteering in a prison? Did/do his own violent impulses spill over despite his acute awareness of them?)

If you want to write smut, the logistics may be tricky, but I suspect an emergency in the prison might require a lock-down, and Oliver gets temporarily stuck in Eric’s cell or another room with only Eric for company. Or Eric is eventually released and crashes with Oliver while he adjusts (with difficulty) to the outside world, and there’s awkwardness, probably some male chest-thumping, and eventually fucking with the realization that they’ll never be complete equals in terms of the power dynamic between them. If it happens in prison, it could be a few months after the movie, or it could be after Eric has had some time to become a fully mature adult -- and has spent enough time in prison to accept the truth of his father’s taunt about the appeal of a tight, hairy asshole. Also, is Eric really a virgin as Neville suggested (not that Neville would know!), or has he had women/men/both before prison? Eric might seem like the logical initiator and/or dominant partner, but then Oliver might (or might not!) surprise him and is definitely the one more in touch with himself. Is it ha-ha-we’re-locked-in/stuck-together-as-housemates, I-dare-you-to-pass-the-time-and/or-help-my-emotional-stability-with-a-fuck -- or is it hell-shit-fuck-something-has-been-percolating-between-us-and-now-we’re-locked-in-together, possibly with a side of cry-me-a-river-you-want-to-know-how-long-it’s-been-for-me-well-I’m-not-telling? There would definitely be some verbal taunting/flirting about who wants/is eager to do what or is good at doing something. There may be some sniping comments about logistics and (lack of) condoms and barebacking and what men get up to in prison. There probably wouldn’t be deep discussions about sexual identity. Again, a possible line of dialogue for inspiration: “Be a man and face the truth. [You want/are enjoying this.]”

LIKES:

I love pre-canon, canon, post-canon, canon-divergent, and “missing scene from canon” stories. I love character-driven and plot-driven stories equally, and I love fics which mix humor and angst/serious business when appropriate for the canon.

I love irony, snark, 5+1 stories, bittersweet endings, hopeful endings, happy endings, unhappy-but-stoic (in terms of where characters end up) endings, ambiguous or and-the-adventure-continues endings, canon-fitting humor, characters who are their own worst enemies as well as those who learn to get over themselves, characters with conflicting values which may or may not be reconciled/resolved in a believable and IC way, characters who treat each other with respect and as equals even if they hate/annoy/can’t stand/love to dislike each other.

In terms of ship dynamics, I love (where it fits the characters) banter, competitiveness or antagonism shading into attraction (this tension need not be resolved), bickering yet loving couples, faithfulness, characters who are serious about their romantic interests, characters who think they are much better at flirtation than they actually are, characters forced to work together only to prove much more compatible than they initially assumed, fics which mix an exploration of characters’ professional and everyday lives with shipping.

I don’t have any very specific likes for smut, other than smut fitting the characters -- show me how their canon dynamics spill over into the bedroom (or other place of congress). I also like sexual scenarios that subvert expectations a little and surprise the characters themselves (e.g., the person who’s usually quiet or more passive taking charge, the more aggressive person goes with it possibly snarking or commenting on it as long as they can). And I like sexual scenarios that contain an element of competition, antagonism, oh-god-this-is-a-bad-idea-but-we’re-going-for-it, not wanting to admit feelings or show vulnerability except oops it happens anyway, whether the characters acknowledge it or not, or just people getting way more into it or being more affected by it than they thought they would. Also situations in which people have been acting competitive or fine-fine-shut-up-already and then jump into the sex with great enthusiasm even if still snarking. Oral, vaginal, anal, manual (ifyouknowwhatImean) -- it’s all good. You can go as veiled or as explicit as you like, but please avoid excessive medical jargon -- I can see “penes” fitting the Rome canon, but I don’t find a lot of mention of “penis” and “clit” sexy in more modern contexts.

DNWs:

Hard kinks, MPREG, A/B/O, knotting, D/s, incest, genderswap and genderbent characters, non-con, dub-con, torture and abuse, dwelling on bodily fluids (mentions of gore and come are fine where appropriate), toilet humor, character bashing, soulmates and soul marks, major character death (unless it’s canon), pregnancy and children as the lynchpin of the story, characters agonizing over/analyzing/dwelling on their or others’ sexuality as if it’s the sum total of their existence, secondary characters acting like shipping the main pair is their be all and end all, teeth-rotting fluff and schmoop, issuefic, fic written in the first or second person, holiday setting or theme (including Valentine’s), fics which revolve around weddings and birthdays, AUs which have nothing to do with canon (cop characters working in a coffee shop, high-school janitor characters in space, etc.)

#rare pairs letter #rare pair fest #rare pairs 2017 #dear author letter

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thekingisjulian · 7 years

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"Washed up nostalgia, and thoughts of suicide. I thought that this was a dream... Turns out that it's my life" - Julian King Suicide has always been around the proverbial corner for me. Every since high school, I've had a lingering desire to shed my mortal coil. Perhaps you cannot understand why someone would want to off themselves. I shall do my best to explain the phenomenon to the few dedicated readers who waste time masturbating to my words. Perhaps I should give some background to my story of despair and self loathing. Growing up, I never much had my father around. It was most likely because he was either drunk or in jail, sobering up from the night before. You see, my father had a very tough life. He chose to deal with it in way that are... unconventional. He liked to get high and drunk. Not that those are bad things, he just took it to the extreme. He wasn't a bad father by any means, he just had problems. My mother and he never married, and although I am the proud owner of his last name, she never really liked me hanging around him. She thought he would corrupt me. Which is funny, because she corrupted me in her own way. When I was five years old, my mother met my stepfather at the college she attended. He was a seemingly nice young man, and she immediately enjoyed his company. They began dating and he was very kind to me. A couple months after I turned seven, he asked for my mom to marry him. I wasn't thrilled at the idea, but it was not the first my mother would disregard what the fuck I thought. They sealed the deal, and much to my dismay, my stepdouche decided to become the father figure I was lacking. It wasn't but two or three weeks before the first ass bashing I would receive from him came knocking on my door. He kicked my 7 year old shitter pretty fucking bad that day. And then it wouldn't stop. That cock sucking, piece of shit, my mother's motherfucker. He would fuck me up for the stupidest things too. Not wearing socks in the kitchen, not wearing a shirt, saying "fuck you" when he hit me. All in all, the abuse that he inflicted on me, made me want to die. The first time I ever had the urge to kill myself, I acted upon it. I owned a Walther P99 semi-automatic pistol. For the longest time, I had a lucky bullet that sat on my dresser for years. I loaded that bullet into the chamber, just the one, because that is all I would need. I put the gun to my temple and said "Fuck this". Yeah... those were almost my last words. I breathed in deeply and pulled the trigger. "CLICK" That was the loudest noise I have ever heard. I had spent hours preparing myself to cease existence. The firing pin was faulty. FUCK! I thought to myself. Also, in hindsight, I really should've sued the ammunition company. (There is my macabre humor acting up) Post shitty ammunition, suicide was a large part of my life. I began to listen to death metal, and hurting myself so I could be sure that I could still feel something, albeit physical pain. It all went downhill (yes, even more that it already had) in November 2005. I was only eight years old. I was sitting on the grass in front of my grandparents house when my mom delivered the news to me. "Julian" she said, "Your dad passed away." For a moment, I felt nothing, then all of my emotions I had been trying to cover up came flooding back in a torrent. All at once. Fear, anger, pain, and sadness. All these came back to me, like an ex girlfriend who realized she truly did care about you. I sat for a moment in silence, and then it hit me like a hurricane. I began to cry, hard. Everything I had built up came crashing down with one swift stroke. I cried like a hungry baby with nay a tit to suckle. Then of course, suicide once again became a rather viable option. At the funeral, the only thing I could think of was his Millennium Falcon toy in the foyer. I really hoped I would receive it. (turns out, it wasn't until I was 14 or 15 that I got it) The pain was so hard, I decided to return to old habits of being unfeeling. A couple years later, I entered high school. I was the weird kid who no one wanted to be associated with. To this day, I'm still not sure why, maybe because I looked like Satan himself took his morning shit, and of all things, I was what came out. I was violent, thanks to my stepdouche's daily assaulting. I hated everything and everyone. Halfway through my second semester of senior year, I got involved with the wonderful world of drugs. Fuck smoking the "gateway drug", I started off right! I took ecstasy. My my my, what a wonderful drug! That was one of the greatest days of my life. Then next school day, while I was in class, the principal entered the classroom and asked for me to join him in the office. I didn't think much of it, because I was well acquainted with the principle and he asked me to do work for him sometimes. As I entered his office, the scene was not what I had expected. My mother and stepcunt were sitting in the couch that occupied the space frontwards of his desk. Oh shit, this is not good I thought to myself. I sat down in a chair opposite my Mother and her significant other. Long story short, I was expelled for using a controlled substance on the school campus. That was for sure the breaking point. I went off the deep end. I said "FUCK IT" and tried almost every drug in the books. I turned drugs into the only way I could feel. And feel I fucking could! It was some of the most amazing experiences that, to this day, are burned in my memory with a pleasant aroma of cigarettes and alcohol. Yes, the drugs were good, and the times were fun. However much I drowned my pain and sadness, suicide was still in the back of my mind. I swallowed a bottle of tylenol and survived. I was going to hang myself, but pussied out. I thought about blowing my brains out, but didn't really want to revisit that memory. Later in high school, I was continually bullied and fucked with. It got to the point where I acted as if it didn't bother me, but it did. Very deeply affected me at that. Some people are fucking assholes, and all they wanted to do was make me feel like shit. (which they succeeded at doing). At this point, I was done trying to kill myself. I've outgrown the selfish idea that me not breathing anymore would improve everyone's life ten fold. I've accepted the fact that suicide won't fix anything, that it just passes the problem on to people who care about you. But no matter what I do, the thought still lingers. What if? Sometimes it seems like the easy route, but in reality, the hard route is the way to go. Weather out your shit. Make it through, and though it doesn't seem like it at the moment, it will be better on the other side. Make it through one more fucking day, and the rest of your life could be on the other side. When no one seems to understand and you loathe yourself with every fiber of your being... Remember this. There is no one in the world who knows you better than yourself. Take that, and capitalize. Chase your motherfucking dreams. Through all caution aside, and because you don't possess the will to live, you have nothing to lose. The only way to go is up. Be who you want to be. Take off your clothes and love yourself. FUCK anyone who says that you aren't worth it. They are the ones who aren't worth shit. Love yourself for who you are, and never forget that #1, is you. JULIAN KING

#Suicide #Julian #King #Death #Cutting #Nostalgia

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