#ranting about hey mickey or whatever it was | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bellysoupset · 1 year

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I know you said that Luke gets the lion's share of attention, but I'd love to see him maybe getting dangerously drunk at a party with the football team and either Vince or Leo calling Jonah in a panic because they don't know whether he needs to go to hospital...

(bonus points if he drunk dials Bella before he's utterly paralytic 👀)

I LOVED this prompt, it kinda caused the entire break up plot to spiral badly. Now we're here, angst fest. This is a part 1.

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Vince was not in the mood to play tonight. Not him and certainly not Leo. They had just recovered from their own turn with the flu and to make matters worse Lucas' had been acting completely off since the aforementioned Break Up.

No one dared to say anything about it, but they were all thinking it.

They were playing at home tonight, which was a relief, because it was a freezing night and Vince did not want to add an incredibly inconvenient bus drive on top of the general down mood.

"Hey cap," Vince thumped Lucas' back as he finished strapping his helmet, "everything good?"

"Yes," Lucas answered roughly, pushing the helmet down on his head. Over his shoulder, Leo flinched and Vince smiled at him in sympathy. He waited until his friend marched ahead before approaching the blonde.

"What do you think?" Vince whispered and Leo shrugged, looking every bit as annoyed as Vince felt.

"I think we're going to lose."

"Yeah, me too."

They didn't lose. Nearly did, but not quite. 33 vs 29. Such a game would normally have all of them in a frenzy in the locker room, euphoric even, but not this time around.

Instead, Lucas was the first out of the field, and the first out of the showers, sitting down on the bench to put on his shoes, while the rest of them were still busy arguing with each other and getting rid of the uniform.

Vince didn't expect Lucas to still be around by the time he walked out of the showers. With how incredibly childish and pissy Luke was acting, he expect the man to have left already.

Instead he was still sitting on the bench, humid towel hanging around his neck and still shirtless, the water dripping from his hair. No matter that it had just started to snow and everyone was rushing to get dressed as fast as possible.

"Okay," Vince moved closer, tugging his shirt down, "what's the matter?"

"Uh?" Lucas raised his eyes, seemingly lost and Vince frowned at him, bumping his knee against his friend's.

"What's the matter?"

"Hey Luke," Aidan interrupted Vince's rant, a huge smile on, "we're heading out, you're joining?"

"Yeah," Lucas opened a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, but finally seemed to be startled into moving. He put on the shirt, while Vince raised both eyebrows.

"Where are you going?"

"Celebrate, duh" Mickey slapped his arm, "you wanna join? You can bring Tinkerbell."

"Don't call her that," Vince immediately shut him down, while Leo scooted closer.

"We're going out?" he asked and then very quickly it got out of control and both Leo and Vince were pulled into the partying, even though neither of them were feeling it.

Vince felt completely out of character, being the only sober one sitting on the corner.

"Mikey burped on my face and I nearly threw up," Leo said, slumping down next to him. Maybe not the only sober one, Vince thought, letting out a surprised chuckle.

"We'll just stay an hour and then get the fuck out," he said, leaning back and tugging on his jeans. He had gone down an entire size thanks to the flu, it was annoying as hell to keep pulling on his pants.

Leo grinned, "we could have a beer. Granted I'll probably throw it up, but I don't wanna sulk here in the corner."

Vince rolled his eyes, incredulous, "fuck no. I've been on a liquids only diet all week, I'm not risking it. You go ahead, though."

The blonde shrugged, picking at his nail as they watched their friends have fun. Or something like that, in Luke's case. Whatever he was having didn't seem to be "fun".

"Just one," Leo smiled mischievously and then got up to join them. Vince grinned back at him, thinking the guy was insane for trying his luck like that.

One hour very quickly turned into one and a half when Leo hopped back to the table and dragged him to join the rest of them, exclaiming loudly that just because Vince was going fully sober tonight, it didn't mean he had to pout-

Lucas draped an arm around his shoulders, head nodding along to Leo's giggly speech, "he's right. Sit with us-" then he downed another shot.

"You've got to let loose," Luke said, a dumb smile on, eyes completely dazed, "you've been so pressed this week, calm down."

"I've been sick this week, not pressed," Vince rolled his eyes, shoving Luke away from him in a playful manner.

It was a really cold night and getting colder, even inside the dimly lit pub. They were all packed together for warmth, as Leo explained, downing a shot of tequila that he regretted exactly twenty minutes later, as he lowered his head to Vince's shoulder.

"Nothing is sitting right."

"I'm shocked," Vince chuckled, thumping his back, "just puke it up, you'll feel better."

"Ew, no," Leo shook his head, yawning, "I want to go home, I think I had enough fun."

Same, Vince thought. He had been nursing the same sprite since they arrived and although his mood was a little lighter, he was dead on his feet and wanted to go to sleep.

"Yeah, let's go- Where's Luke?"

"He was doing shots in the back with Spence and Alex...?" his voice trailed off at the end, turned into a question and Vince frowned, looking away from the shitty television behind the bartender, that was displaying a football game, and towards the blonde.

"Leo?"

"Spence?" Leo straightened up, sobering up, "dude- Hey, what's going on?!"

Only then did Vince realize that Spencer was clutching his nose, blood gushing between his fingers, while Alex was holding up a bunch of napkins.

"Lucas'z a duckin'dunt" Spencer groaned, wincing in pain. Vince frowned, looking at Alex for explanations.

"What happened? Where is he?"

"Drunk dialing his girlfriend," Alex scoffed, rolling his eyes, "and crying. We tried to stop him, but he shoved Spencer when he tried to get the phone."

Oh that explained it. Leo exchanged a concerned look with Vince.

"Where is he?"

"Bathroom," Alex rolled his eyes, "you guys think it's broken?"

"No," Leo shook his head, "he'd be in a lot more pain if it was broken."

"Maybe it's time we all call it a night," Vince said, but he didn't really stick around to hear the responses, as he was already walking to the bathroom.

Whatever he expected to find, it certainly wasn't Lucas curled up on a very disgusting bathroom floor.

"Lucas...?" he ran inside, all but skipping to his knees, "Luke, what are you doing on the ground? Lucas, hey!" he shook his friend's shoulder and Lucas let out a groan.

He had vomit on his shirt and blood on his knuckles, all in all a picture of misery. He also didn't seem able to support his head at all, like a baby, "...eave'me-alone," he slurred and Vince's heart picked up.

"Hell no," he cupped Lucas' neck, feeling his rapid heart beat, skin clammy, "Luke, are you just wasted or-"

His shoulders hitched again and more pale yellow puke covered his lap. Lucas seemed too out of it to even feel bad or humiliated by it, all he did was let out another pitiful whine.

"LEO!" Vince shouted, not looking away from his best friend, "LEO!"

"Vin? I'm just calling Spen- What the fuck?!" Leo cut himself immediately as he took in the state Lucas was in. He walked inside the bathroom, crouching down, "Lucas? Luke, hey - Is he conscious?"

"Barely," Vince patted his best friend cheek, "get Jon on the phone!" he bossed, already fishing for his own phone. He struggled to find Wendy's contact, panic making his mind cloudy.

Between them, Lucas let out another groan and dipped dangerously to the side, causing Vince to lurch forward to grab him, patting his cheek again, "Luke, wake up. Stay with me, alright? Open your eyes."

As if actually obeying, Lucas blinked blearily, the fact his eyes were bloodshot making the green stand out scarily.

"Jon!?" Leo squealed to his left, "Jonah, we're at a bar and- And Luke is completely passed out and we don't know what to do-"

"Leo?" Jonah sounded asleep. Vince vaguely tried to think of what hour was it. 1 AM? "Leo, what's going on-"

"Jon," Vince interrupted, as Leo put the call on speaker, "we're in some pub and Luke is wasted. Like actually properly wasted, I- We have no idea what to do."

There was a pause as Jonah collected himself, "is he conscious?"

"Not really, just a little but not responding."

"Okay, if he's awake keep him sitting up, otherwise put him on his side to not choke on his sick," Jonah bossed and then they heard rustling around and the noise suddenly changed. A crowded room.

"He's puked, like a lot-" Leo offered, unhelpfully and Vince rubbed Lucas' arm, trying to keep him awake.

"While conscious?" Jonah asked, his voice muffled by the noise, "were you there?"

"No, we just found him," Vince's heart was in his throat. Had he severely fucked up by letting Luke out of his sight?

"Fuck," Jonah cursed and then his voice changed as they heard him telling the front desk of the hospital, "I need an ambulance to this address- Guys, where are you?"

"Uhm-" Vince struggled to remember, but Leo interrupted him, citing the address perfectly from memory.

"It's not far from the hospital, we're just around the corner of the university..." He added, then sucked in a sob as Lucas groaned and then his eyes rolled back into his head, turning into half moons of white.

"Shit! Leo, move, let's get him lying down-" Vince ushered him, rolling Luke to his side, almost curled up, "is this right? Should we stick something in his mouth so he won't bite his tongue?"

"Is he seizing?" Jonah yelled through the phone, interrupting Vince's worried questions.

"No, but he passed out," Leo answered, planting his fingers to Lucas' neck, "and his heart is really really fast."

"He might have a seizure. Do not hold him or try to stick your fingers in his mouth, or put anything in. All you'll do is choke him," Jonah sounded just as panicked as the rest of them, "check if he's breathing."

"He is, really slow, but he is."

"Alright, just move anything from around him that could potentially hurt hi-"

"Shit," Leo groaned just as Lucas' shuddered on his side and then coughed up another stream of pale vomit, this time all over the blonde's knee next to his head, "he's throwing up again."

"That's good, he's responsive then," Jonah sighed in relief, "three minutes for the ambulance, just stay with him- One of you should go talk with the bartender and see what he drank. Or took."

"Lucas doesn't do drugs," Vince said, defensively and Leo let out a disbelieving scoff.

"He also doesn't get black out drunk, but we're here!"

"I'll go..." Vince said, but didn't move. He couldn't move, "Jonah, is he going to be okay?" he said, voice small. Lucas might be acting like a prick, but he was not ready to lose his best friend. At twenty three? In some dingy pub's floor? No fucking way.

"Vince go check the bottles, the paramedic will need to know when they get there. Leo, check if he's breathing again, make sure it doesn't sound like he's wheezing."

Vince nodded, noticing just how Jonah had refused to answer his question. He got up, stumbling and rushed out of the bathroom.

Much to his relief no drugs had been involved, the bartender spilling the beans the minute Vince said Lucas was passed out and the ambulance would be there in a minute. Just loads and loads of alcohol, so much that the man ended up just writing it all down on a paper napkin, seeing as Vince was shaking too much and too choked up to properly remember any of the names.

"Which one of you is-"

"Vince, Vince," Leo tugged at his sleeve and from the way his nose and eyes were red, it was clear he was and had been crying, "you go. I - I'll just... I'll send the other guys home, I'll meet you there."

"Are you sure?" Vince asked, but he didn't mean it. There was zero chance he was staying behind when his best friend had a group of paramedics lifting him up.

"Yes, go. I'll meet you there," Leo was shaking like crazy, hyperventilating.

Vince nodded, drunkenly chasing after the paramedics and getting in the back part of the ambulance.

"Does he drink frequently?" the paramedic asked him immediately and Vince shook his head.

"No, almost never, actually," he squeezed Luke's hand, while they checked his respiratory vias, "he - He had a bad month, that's all."

"Is he a danger to himself?"

"No," Vince scoffed, "Luke's not dangerous, he's the nicest person I know-"

"No, sir, is he a danger to himself? Do you think the amount of alcohol consumed was purposeful?" the paramedic repeated, stabbing Luke's finger with something that looked like a diabetic device.

"I... I don't know, I don't think so...? No, Luke's not suicidal, no," Vince shook his head, knee deep in denial. He couldn't even wrap his mind around it, but besides just not believing Lucas was suicidal, he didn't believe this was how he'd choose to go, "no, not at all."

"Has he shown any concerning behavior recently?"

"Is he going to be okay?" Vince interrupted, "because you're sounding like- Like he's gonna be arrested or something, he just drank too much too fast. He's fine. He'll be fine, right?"

The paramedic, an older guy whom Vince vaguely remembered from the hospital, opened a small reassuring smile, "we're doing our best."

That was not a fucking answer, Vince scoffed, squeezing Lucas' hand even more tightly, urging him to wake the fuck up. What a mess of a night.

Once they parked, they rushed Lucas inside and ahead of him, but Jonah was already at the doors of ER, in scrubs and looking every piece as wrecked as Vince felt.

"Dr. Cohen is ta-"

Vince shut him up by tackling him into a hug, all of his emotions crashing down on him. He expected Jonah to pull back, but instead he squeezed him a little harder, letting out a measured breath.

"He's all white and... And dead... I- I don't-"

"Vince," Jonah pulled back, tugging on his white lab coat to force some composure, "breathe. Sit down. They're checking him over, there's nothing you can do now."

"Are they... What happens now?" Vince crumbled down on top of a hospital plastic chair, making the seat creak. Jonah shuffled uncomfortably.

"First we need him to wake up. Then we'll keep him for 12 hours on a glycose drip and diazepam."

Vince stared at him and Jonah opened an exhausted smile, "they'll just put him on IVs. It's not as dramatic as on TV... Bella called me."

"What?"

"Apparently she tried calling you too, but... Uhm, Luke called her before you guys found him. Scared the living crap out of her, she's on her way here."

"At... At 1 AM?"

"It's almost 3," Jonah rolled his eyes, wiping a hand over his face, "you should go wash up, you look like a mess. Leo said anything?"

"He should be here in a minute too, he said he'd meet me here."

"Okay, I'll wait for him then," Jonah crossed his arms, "go, Vince."

#sickfic #emeto #emetophilia #alcohol poisoning #lucas atwood #mywriting

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loveyouanyway · 3 months

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Hi Nolan!

Edelweiss, ivy, papyrus, and taro! :)

hey saturn <3

edelweiss: how’d you think of your url/username? what’s it associated with to you?

well ofc the buckaroo part is for buck and i love the nickname for him. in fact, i would have named my bunny buckaroo but it didn't suit him so i will name my next pet buckaroo :D

as for the heart part, it's inspired by buck's heart drawing which is so cute and the whole interaction with buck and eddie about it !!!!

ivy: what are your ‘tells’ for your emotions and moods? how can someone tell you’re happy, annoyed, upset or tired?

hmm if im talking a lot and engaging in conversation, im happy. if im picking at my nails, i dont want to be there haha. when im mentally tired, i just shut down and don't talk. i don't think i get annoyed that much bc i just don't care about a lot of things jdksjdf but when i do, i short breathe out of my nose idk if i explained that right and i just look annoyed sdkfjd

papyrus: if you put your ‘on repeat’ playlist on shuffle, what’s the first song that comes up? what do you like about it / associate it with?

ofc it's a reneé rapp song <3 what a shocker!!!!

so what now? oh it always reminds me gallavich (ian and mickey from shameless) idk if any of y'all 911 peeps are in the shameless fandom

it's about an ex coming back to where u live after leaving (for whatever reason) and then wondering so what now? should we talk? and why haven't you called me yet

anyway here is the part where it's not sung but it's like part of the song iykwim

"You dumb crusty ass bitch, but I think I love you. Welcome back to California. I love you. You're so small, I could flick you. I wish I could hug you. I might kiss you, but I also might fight you"

LIKE ITS SO MICKEY TO IAN. I MIGHT MAKE AN EDIT ABOUT IT

taro: if someone called you right now to catch up, what’re the things you’d tell them about?

i would mention that mentally i'm doing a lot better! i would talk a lot about my idea of writing a sitcom inspired by my family

it would be a comedy but have a serious aspect of mental health

characters:

autistic dad and brother who are like on the opposite sides of the spectrum so sometimes they really clash

mom who works in the mental health field (without her, we probably wouldn't live together sjdksd so grateful for her. ily mom)

me, a queer young adult who struggles with depressive and hypomanic episodes

and the star: bernie the bunny!!

i would also catch them up on all the shows ive been watching lately and rant to them about 9-1-1 season 7!!!

#thanks for the ask <3 #saturn 🪐#you're the only one who sends me asks and i appreciate you sm #nolan nonsense #personal

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y0itsbri · 3 years

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🍺, 🧑🏻‍🦰, 😠

benja! hello! thank you for the ask! 💘💘 (sorry these got kinda (very) long and some more fic-ish than hc-ish but i had fun with it)

🍺 - drunk headcanon

lately, debbie has been flooding the gallagher fam groupchat with pictures of cocktails and mixed drinks that she's been trying from the new lesbian bar she's been going to. carl tells her no one gives a shit, but she just tells him to fuck off. ian always sends a thumbs up emoji in response to the photos.

"wonder what's in that one," mickey pondered from their couch, zooming into the most recent picture like somehow the ingredients were written on an ice cube.

"looks like 1.5 oz empress gin, 4 oz ginger beer, juice of 1/2 a lime, 1/4 oz monin desert pear syrup, and mint, for garnish, of course," ian confidently rattled off.

mickey's eyebrows shot up to his hairline, "the fuck are you? the lesbian drink whisperer?"

ian chuckled at the accusation, "found the recipe on pinterest. 's something called the prickly pear gin buck."

"on penny trust what now?"

"pinterest -- a website where you pin your interests," ian smirked like he was the most clever motherfucker on the planet.

"alright, fuckin' martha stewart over here."

"wanna make it sometime?"

"make what?"

"the 'lesbian' drink."

"nah, man, too fuckin' fruity and won't even get me drunk."

"yeah, well we're fucking fruity, mick."

mickey sent ian a death glare.

ian threw his hands up in mock surrender and a teasing glint, "alright, alright, but you like it sweet, so i bet you'd like it."

"yeah, i like your sweet ass alright, c'mere, dork."

"hey, mick, look what i got!"

"more toothpaste?"

"shit! i knew i was forgetting something... but, uh, no, i splurged on some things to make that drink debs sent that week."

ian looked so damn excited about this, he couldn't even make fun of him.

"double the gin. if i'm drinking it, i better get buzzed."

"done."

"and you're not tellin' fuckin' anyone about this."

ian paused too long.

"gallagher," mickey said sternly. gallagher. he wasn't messing around.

"aaaanyways, let's get it cookin', good lookin'."

for all it was worth, it was fucking delicious and mickey got more than a little buzzed. he woke up the next morning... or afternoon rather, with several notifications from the gallagher groupchat.

shit. he was gonna fuckin' murder ian.

ian had sent an artistic photo of the purplish drink topped with a mint garnish and another of mickey, blissfully unaware of the photo being taken while sipping his second? third? drink, cradling it dear.

deb: looks great guys! so good, right! 🥂

lip: mickey sure seems to think so huh? ;)

liam: mickey's gonna kill you for this, ian

carl: rip fly high bro 💀🕊️

despite the teasing from his brother-in-laws, mickey really did enjoy the drink and the excitement ian had putting it all together. debbie, ian, and mickey all start a new groupchat called 'gallabitches getting tipsy🍹' where they share all their new recipes without judgement. they later added tami to the group, not being able to drink during her pregnancy, but living vicariously through them.

👨‍🦰 - ian is tall and likes to manhandle headcanon

the only cabinet in the kitchen that's tall enough for their boxes of cereal is above the refrigerator. this is, of course, no problem to ian who is practically eye level with it. mickey, however, has a little more difficulty.

he thought he was alone in the kitchen, he had left ian finishing getting ready in the bathroom, when he wanted the goddamn lucky charms.

mickey ungracefully climbed on top of the countertop and acquired the beloved box of sugary cereal. right then, he noticed he'd been caught -- ian leaning against the kitchen wall, amused as all hell.

ian stalked over, "can't reach, baby?"

"got it just fine, thanks." but mickey didn't make any effort to get down.

"hey, you're finally taller than me, never thought i'd see the day."

"fuck off."

"hmmm, dunno if i like this," ian said, looking up at mickey, "might have to do something about it."

"yeah? whatcha gonna do about it, big guy?"

in a swift motion, ian nudged mickey's legs apart a bit and held them on either side of him. mickey threw the box of cereal god knows where, fuck the cereal, and complied, wrapping his legs around ian's torso and his arms around ian's neck.

"oh, you'll see."

😠 - jealous headcanon (also hi @gardenerian , here's a little bit of gardener ian content for you🍅)

ian starts bonding with one of his neighbors about their plants in the community garden at their apartment. mickey was totally on board with ian's rants about his tomatoes and peppers, but all mickey can hear lately is julie this and julie that.

"julie bought this new fertilizer for me to use on my plot! she said it'll double the amount of tomatoes we get this year!"

"fuckin' great."

ian frowned, "i thought you were excited about the garden."

"i am."

"then why doesn't it sound like that?"

"julie just sounds like she likes you a bit too much is all."

"julie?"

"yeah, man, buyin' you shit, now. why doesn't fucking julie just suck your dick while she's at it?"

"what the fuck are you going on about now, mick?"

"you don't even wear your ring down there! i bet the bitch is just trynna get in your pants."

"mickey."

"no, it's cool, i get it, whatever."

"mickey. i don't wanna lose the ring in all the fuckin' dirt, but i promise julie knows all about you -- about us."

"yeah?"

"of course," ian crowded mickey's space a bit, judging how much his husband was really mad at him. he tilted his head down, "come down there with me next sunday, yeah? there's nothing to worry about."

mickey considered for a moment. he would love to size the bitch up, even if he had to wake up a bit earlier.

"fine."

"mmmm, good."

the following sunday, true to plan, mickey followed ian down to his garden plot. he'd been down here before, of course, but never early enough to chat with julie. he couldn't see her now, though, just some white-haired old lady in a big hat with an orange cat perched on her lap.

"ian, darling, good morning!"

"hey julie, good to see you!" ian said smiling as he crouched down to pet the cat's head, "you too, george." the cat purred against his hand.

oh.

"this is my husband, mickey. he was finally up early this morning, so i made him tag along."

"oh, what a pleasure, dear," julie smiled warmly, "i've heard so much about you."

"uh, yeah, ditto." mickey definitely didn't expect this -- she was genuinely sweet. she kind of reminded him of his great aunt back in ukraine.

"remind me to give you boys my new recipe for lemon tarts..." she trailed off.

mickey sat himself on a red modern-style chair as the two chatted the latest drama of some pests on antonio's plants and how sarah hadn't been out in weeks to water.

julie nudged the cat off her lap as she gestured for ian to follow her to one of the flower beds. george made his way over to where mickey was sitting.

"they're some of the good ones, huh?" mickey addressed the cat.

george slow blinked in return as he flopped over on the pavement.

they basked in the early morning sun, watching ian water both his plot and julie's as they laughed about something he couldn't hear.

he smiled. he could get used to sunday mornings like this.

#ask #mrsinistertype #shameless #gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #shameless headcanon #gallavich headcanon #debbie gallagher #my posts

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shewillreadyou · 3 years

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Hey guys! I haven’t written anything in months. Also, this is very fluffy. There is some language, adult content, and 🍋🍋🍋. It’s TNA. Sam and Misti to be exact. 1693 word count. It was supposed to be my @wackydrabbles entry for the week but I’m late. This is a one shot. I have also never posted from my phone. 🤦🏽‍♀️💕 Whatever. Sorry. Let me know what you think.

After reading them their favorite bedtime story, Misti quietly closed the door to the boys bedroom. She tiptoed into the kitchen, where she drained the last of her merlot, and began to load the dinner dishes into the dishwasher. They had only been back from Italy a short time and talking to the boys about the new role she’d be playing was heavy on her mind. She was putting the last wine glass on the top rack when Sam creeped quietly into the kitchen to steal a kiss. His arms snaked around her waist and she yelped in surprise.

“Shit! Sam, you scared me.”

He chuckled as he pulled her hair back kissing her neck. She smiled welcoming his embrace. She slowly stepped back and seductively bent over to get a soap pod out of the container in the cabinet under the sink. Sam’s mouth fell open at the sight. His hands traced her curves as she popped the pod into the dishwasher and pressed the start button. “Fuck, washing dishes has never looked so sexy,” Sam said as he pulled her into his arms.

“Is that a challenge? Because you are doing the dishes tomorrow.” The couple laughed together.

After a long searing kiss, Misti pulled away. “Sam,” she whispered. “Not here. What if the boys wake up? We need to talk to them, you know. It’s only a matter of time before--” Sam quieted her rant with a single finger to her lips.

“Shhh.” He scooped her into his arms and carried her bridal style into his bedroom. He kicked the door shut before he laid her down on his plush bed. He narrowed his eyes as he gazed at her hungrily. He removed his cufflinks as she squirmed on the bed. He made quick work of the button on his shirt before he unbuckled his belt and unzipped and unbuttoned his pants letting the weight of his belt pull them down around his ankles. A topless Misti looked at him amused by his strip tease before looking over to the door.

“You seem distracted love. What’s on your mind?” Sam asked as he settled himself above her on the bed. “Did you lock the door?” she asked as she lifted her hips to allow Sam to remove her lounge pants. “Yes, why?” He kissed her neck and collarbone. “The boys.” Sam flipped her so that she was now on top. He pulled her shirt over her brown mane and tossed it onto the floor. Misti reached around and unclasped her bra.

“I know you are worried,” he said as he cupped her breast. “We’ll sit them down tomorrow.” He took her nipple into his mouth. “Promise?” she moaned. He flipped them again so that she was on her back. He kissed down her torso before burying his face in between her thighs. She squirmed as he devoured her. “Be still. It’s been days. I have to make sure you’re ready for me,” he whispered huskily. Before she knew it, Sam had her pinned against the wall. His hips slammed into hers rhythmically as she quietly moaned his name.

Suddenly, Misti’s fear became a reality when his bedroom door slowly swung open. “Dad, I had a bad dream and Misti’s not in her room. Then I heard thumping.” To her horror Mason stood in the doorway wiping his sleepy eyes. Sam looked over his shoulder. “Go back to your room buddy. I’ll be in to check on you.” Mason turned away, never even noticing Misti behind Sam in the dark room. Sam pulled out, looking at Misti apologetically. Fury dominated her gaze as she quickly gathered her clothes and headed to the door.

“What?” he questioned.

“Where are you going?”

She pulled his t-shirt over her head. “You know what!” she whisper yelled.

“I didn’t know.”

“How? How did you not know? I told you this would happen. That was way too close, Sam.” She stormed out of his room.

“Misti, baby. Wait, I’m sorry.” He followed her through the dark penthouse.”

“Don’t follow me. I’ll be in my room. Go check on your son.”

Sam knew that Misti was right. It was time to have a talk with the boys. But how was he supposed to explain things in a way that they could understand?

After checking in on a sleeping Mason, Sam knocked quietly on Misti’s door. After she didn’t answer, he slipped inside and made sure to lock the door. He smiled to himself when he heard the shower running. His lounge pants set dangerously low on his hips. The smell of her papaya mango shampoo wafted through the air. “Misti?” his deep baritone surprised her. “Sam? Where is Mason?” He pulled the string around his waist and pushed his pants and boxers to the floor. She smiled as he stepped inside the shower stall. “He’s asleep and I promise, I locked the door.”

His body shivered as the hot water burned his skin. “Shit, Misti. How do you handle the water this hot?” She giggled and adjusted the temperature. She began to lather his rock hard abs with soap. He stepped under the water, rinsing himself immediately. “You’re going to make me smell like a girl.” She threw her head back in laughter. “Sorry. I don’t have any of your fancy manly Jack Black turbo wash.” He chuckled. “I’m sorry.” A comfortable silence filled the air as she waited for him to say more. “You were right. We need to talk to the boys in the morning. They will definitely ask questions when you move your things into my bedroom.”

“Who said I was moving in there with you? I love my room, and you are a cover hog,” she joked. “But, seriously, I just don’t want to confuse them. I mean I’m their nanny first.”

Sam smiled at her concern. “About that,” Sam said. Misti quirked her eyebrow. “You’re fired.” Sam deadpanned. She eyed him amused. After several moments reality washed over her. “Oh dear lord, you’re serious? You’re firing me?” He laughed proudly. “Yes, you’re my lady. You don’t need to work.” Misti rolled her eyes before turning the water off and stepping out of the shower.

“Sam, I’m a chemist. I took this job with two fold intentions. I didn’t plan on falling in love with the boys or you. I wanted to get my foot in the door at Dalton Enterprises. I don’t need a sugar daddy! I don’t need you to take care of me, financially,” she declared as she sashayed into her bedroom.

“Misti, wait. Babe, I know, you’re brilliant. But, where are you going? You can’t just leave me like this,” he said motioning to his erection.

Ignoring him, she let her towel drop to the floor before she started to slowly lotion her body. Sam stood watching her with lust in his eyes.

“So you really aren’t going to come to bed?” She turned to look at him. The towel situated low enough on his hips to show off the deep v that disappeared under the towel. She bit her lip and shook her head no.

“If we don’t talk to the boys tomorrow, I’m moving out, since I am no longer employed here.”

“Oh, that’s not fair. I don’t do well with ultimatums.” He approached her from behind and she could feel his stiffened length through his towel. She reluctantly stepped away before looking at him through her thick eyelashes. “Oh, and no more fooling around either.” She walked over to the door, unlocked it and held it open. “Goodnight Sam.” She waited for him to leave.

The following morning

“Listen, boys. Misti and I have something very important to talk to you about.”

“Really? Are we finally going skiing in Switzerland?” Mason asked.

“Oh no. I’ve seen that face before. She isn’t going to be our nanny anymore, is she?” Mickey asked deflated.

“No, no she won’t--”

“You’re leaving? But you promised,” Mason chimed in.

“Don’t you remember? You said you’d always be here for us. It was the night by the bridge when we told you that we wanted you to be our new step mom and not Aunt Sofia?” Mickey added.

“Oh, boys,” Misti said. “I meant every word.”

“Then why are you leaving us?”

“Boys, please. Allow us to explain. Wait, you two asked Misti to be your stepmom?” Sam looked between the three of them. Misti held her hands up in surrender.

“Whatever, you two know how much I care for Misti, right?”

They both nodded in understanding. Sam nervously cleared his throat.

“Well, sometimes when grown ups care for one another. They do things…”

“Dad, what did you do?”

“For the love of God, rip the bandaid off. Mason, Mickey, your Dad and I are in love. I wouldn’t dream of leaving you two. I guess what we want to say is we really are fond of one another. What would you think about your Dad and I being in a relationship?”

“Oh my God, we knew that you two kissed, but you are going to get married!” the boys said in unison.

“That’s not what I said.”

“But, it’s my intention. I want to make an honest woman out of Misti.”

“Misti is already really honest. Even when we don’t want to hear it,” Mason said.

Sam chuckled before squatting down in front of them.

“Boys, I would love for Misti to be your stepmom, for us to be a family.”

“I thought we already were,” Mason said sadly.

“We are, it will just be official.”

“So you’re not leaving us?” Mickey asked.

“Not even wild boars could pull me away.” She said, pulling them into a tight embrace.

“Misti?”

“Yes,” she answered with tears in her eyes.

“I can’t breathe.”

They all laughed as she released them from her hold apologetically.

“Now, about that ski trip,” Mason smirked.

Her heart was full. The boys were fine with her new relationship with Sam and Sam just admitted to wanting to make her his wife. All was right with the world. She was unemployed, but at least in this moment it couldn’t be any better for her.

#choices stories you play #tna #choices fanfiction #fandom #fanfic #fanfiction #kim reads #playchoices

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gaylien51 · 3 years

Text

So this is the first chapter of my story. I’m a beginner writer so if you have any advice feel free to share.

Baron Draxum watched all his precious work go down in flames. The heat overwhelmingly and the fire still roaring. CRASH! Another part of the roof collapsed bringing even more damage. He cursed his now forever enemy Hamato Yoshi. As he begun to walk away from the ruins of his previous lab he thinks of how his lab was destroyed.A prisoner of big mama that he had his loyal gargoyles bring to him for his highly anticipated experiment of creating the perfect soldiers to rain hell upon the vile humans that lived above. The experiment consisted of 4 turtles, a red eared slider turtle, a snapping turtle, a soft shell turtle, and a box turtle. He looked down in his hands to see a small box turtle, the last of his experiments. “ You shall become the perfect soldier, the perfect success, you will be the downfall of humans, the rein of pure terror as everyone kneels down to our almighty power!” Achoo! He looked down at the box turtle in disgust. Ugh germs- and from a mutant turtle no less. He felt pressure on his fingers as he looked down to see the experiment nuzzle into his hands happily cooing and smiling at him. “There is much much much work to be done little one” he expressed with tiredness in his voice.

“ Uhhhh sir, no offense but your mortal enemy who you called us to capture because of his awesome fighting skills, ninjutsu and all that, has destroyed your lab place, burned it down to the ground, escaped with the 3 other turtles, and is most likely mutated into a rat and will raise the 3 other turtles if they survived, and will most likely prep himself over the years to come and fight you, has completely and utterly destroyed your work, soooooooooo where we living?”. Baron looked at the gargoyle on his shoulder (which he solemnly forgot about) and wore a frustrated and pinched expression as he explained the obvious. The other gargoyle on his shoulder also looked at him waiting for an answer to their question. Frustrated, tired,angry, and annoyed Baron Draxum argued in his head if he should kill them for their very annoying existence. “ We will rebuild our laboratory starting from the ground up and prepare experiment 42005 for his long and successful journey of destroying the humans!” He answered with determination. “ As for now we will visit the yokai city and remain there for the time being” he added. Both gargoyle looked at him and shrugged satisfied with the answers. “ hey as long as me and Muninn have a place to stay we’re a-okay with your plan boss man!” replied the gargoyle on his left shoulder. “ what huginn said!” Munnin, the gargoyle on his right shoulder said.

So Baron Draxum, Munnin, Huginn, and the experiment 42005 began their trek to yokai city and onwards to their journey of the destruction of the humans.

CRASH! Baron hurried out of bed and into his kitchen to see his experiment trying to cook breakfast for himself. Tiredness dripped in his voice as he asked “ Little one when I said you must learn survival skills such as cooking, I did not mean to make a mess of the kitchen” his racing heart calmed seeing his son on the counter unharmed but dirty with flour all over his clothes. Which was also on the counters and tables- and how did pancake mix get on the ceiling? All over the kitchen causing quite a mess.

“ I’m sorry da- I mean sir, I was trying to create a acceptable meal for us today but it didn’t go over quite well” replied his son with disappointment and frustration. “ Just make sure to clean this up and meet me in the lab for your training... we will eat cereal so you may have your breakfast”. Internally experiment 42005 groaned at just the thought of eating bland boring old nutritional rations that his dad called cereal. As his dad continued to walk away from him he quickly and expertly cleaned up his mess frustrated at his failed attempt at cooking. Usually he was quite good at this and created the best meals with whatever was stocked in the pantry but his mind was distracted with thoughts of what he’ll do today and this resulted in the mess before him. But he decided to not think too hard about it and stored those thoughts away and quickly finished up. He ran to the lab through the dark and creepy decaying hallways all colored the same dull gray and rusted. He then saw his dad and the left out “cereal” for him and proceeded to make his way to the table with the laid out food and sit and eat it hurriedly. His father in the background working on many technologies to improve their home and for his patrols.

“42005 today is your 13th birthday” his father said suddenly. 42005 stood up from his chair standing tall and proud as he’s always done since he can remember. “As you know I have been preparing you since birth to destroy the vile humans that live up above, the disgusting creatures who forced us down here into yokai city, making us soft, and stealing the surface from us, and- yadda yadda yadda I know dad you’ve been saying this since my birth!” Interrupted his son. Looking at him with a disgruntled expression he stared into his sons eyes as his son stared back. “Ha you blinked! I win” his son said with smug. “ENOUGH!, experiment 42005 you will listen to me! You know I hate interruptions!”. His son cowered a bit internally but did not show it out of fear for punishment. “ Yes sir, I apologize “ he said solemnly. Satisfied with his answer he continued on his rant about vile human as his son mentally bored with the same discussion hes heard again and again and waited for him to finish. “And that is why human are disgusting and you will go on to destroy the- Are you listening to me?!l he yelled. Startling his son out of his short nap. He sighed with dissatisfaction and drag his hand over his face. “ Proceed to training with Munnin and Huginn and the foot bots, later today we shall proceed with your far more intense training and then patrol will happen is that understood?”. 42005 flinched very subtly at the mention of the clan but replied yes and proceeded to go train. The training room was a stimulation his father made that can produce whatever needed. 42005 chose footbots this time as some early practice while waiting for Munnin and Huginn. He tried desperately to bury himself in his training tearing foot bot after foot boy apart with his mystic kusari fundo the fire ball shrieking wildly as their enemies were torn apart. He had started to train with the foot clan when he was 4 and learned quickly how cruel they were. Every mistake he made he was punished for severely. His scars aches just thinking of it. Burning, drowning, poisoned , whipped, and many other methods of torture he had to induce upon people or else he would be punished instead. They told him this was the way of the clan and that it was effective for enemies.They silenced him quickly with threats to not tell his father unless he wanted even more punishments. At age 4 42005 learned what the word discipline truly meant and when to enforce silence. He grew to be one of the most notorious assassins out there a product of the foot clan and his father. He was a cold blooded thirsty terrifying killers known as the fire akuma, the devil, the bringer of death, and many other names. All at the cost of his innocence. At age 8 his father found out about the horrible punishments after hearing the excuse one too many times he was hurt from patrol and training. His father accepted it too busy with projects and destroying humans to pay attention to him. Once he learned of the horrors being done to his creation he rained hell upon the foot and promised 42005 that no one shall ever harm him again. He started paying more attention to his experiment from then on making sure nothing tainted his creation. As time went they grew closer and acted more as father and son although Baron would never admit it as he was too prideful. Baron always felt guilty for his trauma and did his best to help him with it. Although he still had plenty nightmares from the screams he heard and bones being crushed and throats be big split- he was getting far too much in his thoughts. Baron never did explain why he allied with the foot - he never explained many things but 42005 learned to not question it. His father was still very guarded hence why he was never named an actual name instead of numbers.

SWOOSH! Oh right he was training! 42005 lassoed the foot bot who threw kunai at him and threw him at the wall effectively making him short circuit with his neck being twisted at an awkward angle. He proceeded to the next foot bit and threw his fiery friend into the foot not making an effective burning hole. As he continued on with his training his father watched him through the screen at his work station satisfied and proud of his son with what he was seeing. A few hours later 42005 had created and effective pile of destroyed bots and was panting heavily. Baron called for his son over the intercom that connected to the speaker within the stimulation room. Once 42005 came he stood in front of his father waiting for instructions as his patrol would begin soon.

“42005, you have done remarkably well since I have raised you and have succeeded my expectations, you will be sure to wipe out the human race and bring hope for us Yokai and mutants alike to rule the surface, and I am... p-“. Baron coughed on trying to swallow his ego and pride. “ what was that pop?! We’re you going to say-YES LETME FINISH, I just need a second”. 42005 looked smudged and excited staring at Baron who somehow managed to swallow his ego and proceeded with his original saying. “ Yes 42005 I am p-proud of you and I know for certain I can call you my s-son. For your birthday I gift you this and give you your name... Michelangelo” baron heaved a sigh of relief as Mickey squealed and jumped all over. His father had promised him when he was 8 that when he exceeded his expectations of him he would finally give him a name and 42005 or we’ll Mickey hadn’t let him forget since. It was a true sign of parental love and trust. Baron had struggled to do this for so long because he didn’t want to get attached to an experiment that could still fail and he might need to replace even if he started from scratch again. In truth he chose the name Mickey because he read about a renaissance artist once who was named Michelangelo and was highly successful. As Mickey grew up he promised great strength and ambition as well as intelligence but not in the way you think.

You see Mickey has ADHD which caused him to have trouble paying attention during lessons his father was teaching more focused on what to draw and having multiple thoughts in his head. He also constantly had to be doing something wether it was tapping his feet or humming a tune he heard or other things. This quickly annoyed his father as he didn’t know why Mickey was like this and at first assumed it was because he had a lot of energy since he was a child but it continued to happen as he grew up and then mood swings started to appear a lot more. So Baron decided he should look into it more and see what was wrong and found mickeys symptoms to match most of the adhd symptoms. He asked Mickey later that day why he had trouble paying attention and why he was so impulsive and as his son explained he concluded that he had ADHD. He felt guilty for yelling at his son so many times over something he couldn’t control and never asked why he did what he did. He looked up herbal teas and created many medications similar to those used for humans but instead for a growing teenage mutant turtle boy. Of course this didn’t cure his adhd and he’ll always have it but over the years they’ve learned to manage it and what medicines did and didn’t work. But because Mickey had adhd he had to find other ways to do things other solutions. This caused him to memorize skills and cooking and other acedmic stuff in several ways for example most things were labeled around their home and Mikey used lists in order to keep track of things. Once he got a phone he also put reminders on there and his father would also him remind him of his tasks. Growing up Mikey also had special interests such as games, technology, reading but mostly comic books, cooking, and creating art. His father encouraged his behavior as it helped for him to gain confidence and he was able to use it to his advantage in training and fighting. But when Mikey was with the foot clan he was mocked for his habits and drawings. They would tear up his drawings in front of him and beat him when he couldn’t pay attention or he was stimming. This caused him to have low self esteem and ptsd. His father was a busy man selling his creations and do in g business deals among the yokai city so often times he neglected Mikey. Mikey was angry at him for this and this caused a rift between him and his dad he was afraid and scared and needed his dad but didn’t want his dad to find out about the abuse. This left him confused angry and frustrated as well as draxum as he was emotionally stunted. Wanting to know why his son was acting this way he visited the foot clan without telling them and saw Mikey being cut and beaten in a fight as they yelled horrible words at him. This sent him in a rage destroying everything in his path and getting his son out of there. Once in the safety of their home Mikey spilled about everything like an overflowing sink as he kept crying as well. Baron unsure of what to do simply held his son tighter and listened. Once this happened his father became more protective of him but also trained him more to fight back against harmful people and they continued to repair their relationship.

“-ickey, Mickey, MICKEY!” Yelled his father. He rose to attention still full of energy but stood straight waiting for instructions . His father looked at him with his classic I- love-you-so-much-but-your-gonna-be-the-death-of-me look . “It is time to start your patrol, your task today is to find the needed chemicals I sent to your phone to create more mutagen for my oozesquitoes, stay safe out there my son” Draxum patted mikeys head with slight fondness and Mikey beamed at him. He then hurriedly made his way out of his home and towards yokai city. He snuck into a nearby alleyway and drew the symbol for the portal going through quickly to the surface world. He checked his black utility belt for all his weapons. “ I have my kunai, my shuriken, my tento, my kusari fundo, my protein bars -ughhhhhh, my sketchbook, pencil, yup! I think I have everything!” Mikey exclaimed. He skated rooftop from rooftop heading towards the old abandoned factory filled with chemicals his dad usually made him get for his experiments. He was wearing a black hoodie and mask that showed a wide grin of sharp teeth and his skateboard full with stickers that consisted of smiley faces, graffiti words, neon signs, gaming brands, etc. Patrols weren’t necessarily patrols more of errand runs for the human world unless it was an assassination for a human who wronged a fellow yokai. As much as his dad hated humans he worked with the ones from the foot clan for yet untold reasons and had Mikey assassinate humans who were especially evil. The foot clan had also messed that up for him taking away his in once when they started executing innocent people who wronged them and made him watch and kill them. He shuddered at the reminder and of things that still haunt his nightmares and shook his head to be clear of the horrific thoughts. As he jumped from the next rooftop he hears chatter that gets louder and ducks down on a balcony to spy on whoever’s coming his way. There he sees WHAT!?!? 3 OTHER MUTANT TURTLES dad said I was the only one, the only mutant turtle who was trained to be an assassin. Are they even assassins?!? What’s going on? Mikey thought.

Mikey can get angry and sadistic . Can be downright cruel and unforgiving. Can kill someone quick and merciless. He’s a soldier, an assassin, a demon if you will. His names is feared within the Yokai community despite not being a yokai. But that’s to be expected of Baron Draxums son. He’s proud of it and it certainly helps that his dad praises him for it. He’s a turtle or we’ll a mutant turtle ,created to be the perfect experiment. The only mutant turtle in the world. So why the hell does he see 3 other mutant turtles on a rooftop during his patrol?! Unless... No! They couldn’t be! Dad said they had died in the fire! They are dead...right? Or maybe someone stole dads work and mutated 3 other turtles for their own benefit? Or something??? Ughhhhhhh!

Mikey then peered up from the balcony to spy again as he saw the 3 mutant turtles talking amongst themselves and a ...human!!! Aren’t all Yokai supposed to hate humans?! This night just keeps getting confusing! Mikey then decided to look up again and as he shifted around he forget about the skateboard next to him

CRACK!!

The skateboard had fallen of the balcony and broke in two over a dumpster. Mikey froze as his breath was taken away. Slowly he looked up, only to find the turtles gone?

“ Huh? Where’d they go” Mikey climbed onto the rooftop confused and a bit hesitant And then heard some shuffling behind him. He quickly grabbed a Kunai and held it up to one of the turtles neck

“Uhhhh hi? Nice dagger you got there” Mikey stared fiercely at the turtle ready to kill if necessary.

#casey jones #tmnt raph #tmnt leo #tmnt mikey #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt donnie #rottmnt #tmnt angst #foot clan #beginner writer #rise of the tmnt #angst #I’m trying my best here #adhd tag #baron draxum #april o'neil #[ out of character ]

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whynotwinnie · 3 years

Text

Timida part 3: Roger Taylor x OC

sorry it took so long college is kicking my ass rn but thank you for all the support y’all have given me i’m going to start writing the next part rn thank y’all - bennie <3

T/w: body dysmorphia, talks of anxiety and depression, cussing

MICKEY

Throughout the night you woke up a total of 4 times getting frustrated you sat up and stared at the clock 4:13 in the afternoon. You flopped back on the bed, you should’ve gone to bed earlier.

You swung your legs to the edge of your bed and hopped down popping your back as you made your way to your shower. You turned on the hot water and let it run while you stripped yourself of your clothes. You turned yourself toward the mirror staring at your body, oh it was going to be one of those days. You turned from side to side checking your figure and felt the tears start to form in your eyes.

You stepped into your shower and started to cry while the hot water hit your back. You always got these weird mood swings where you felt like shit and wanted to hide from the world, you would say these mood swings happened at least once a week. You know you probably needed some type of help for it but as of right now you didn’t have the time or the funds to deal with that.

You spent a little extra time in the shower resulting in the hot water running out and turning freezing cold. You groaned and turned it off grabbing a towel to dry your body, when you were leaving the restroom you made sure to avoid looking in the mirror.

You grabbed a different big t-shirt to use as pajamas and threw on a random pair of house shorts and headed to your work area to finish whatever orders you didn’t start on last night.

Making quick work with the simple alterations you sat bored after folding the last article of clothing nicely. You got up from your desk and walked around your small apartment trying to find something to keep you occupied until it was time to call Roger.

Deciding you should make an early dinner you went to your kitchen area in your flat. The flat itself was small and the only way you could describe it was tolerable. It was one bed, one bathroom flat the only reason why you ended up signing your lease was that it was cheap and had an open living room area so you can set up all your work stuff there. But that also meant that your living room was always a mess with scrap fabric on the floor, 2 working mannequins plus the broken one being propped up by the wall, your huge old sewing machine that was way too loud, and a wardrobe that you found on the street that you cleaned and kept some spare fabric and clothes in.

You decided that you were going to make chicken and rice, you would’ve had beans but you ran out a week ago and never got the time to go get groceries. As you seasoned your chicken you made a promise to yourself that you would go get groceries tomorrow.

Then your phone rang.

“Shit,” you said while you left your chicken on the stove, quickly checking the time before you answered 6:05 it seemed too early for it to be Roger.

“Hello?” you said to the phone wondering who it could be.

“Mickey?”

“Oh hey Roger, I wasn’t expecting you to call this early,”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” he signed into the receiver “Remember when I told you yesterday how we had a really good practice, well today was shit.”

“I’m sorry about that Roger, what happened?”

“Well, Brian and I couldn’t get on the same page to save our lives he kept insisting that there needed to be a guitar solo in every fucking song when there really shouldn’t.”

He kept his rant going for a few minutes talking about solos and songs you just tried to keep up with the names and strange vocabulary he was using. It wasn’t until you started to smell burning when you remembered your chicken on the stove.

“Fucking shit hold on Roger.” you dropped the phone and ran to the chicken taking the pan off the burner. The chicken was black on the bottom and stuck to the pan.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you did your best to scrape the chicken in the trash but some stayed stuck you would have to deal with that later. You turned your rice off before that could burn too, you guess rice for dinner would do.

You threw the pan in the sink and turned on the water and watched the steam come off the pan, you never had this happen before you were a pretty good cook it came naturally after your mother made you help her cook for your whole family. But burning something if she could see you now she would be so disappointed, well she’s always disappointed in you nothing you could do to change that.

You turned off the water and went back to the phone.

“Hey sorry about that.” you sighed into the phone

“Is everything okay Mickey? You really had me worried.”

“Everything is fine now I had started making chicken right before you called and I didn’t keep an eye on it but now it’s burnt.”

“This is all my fault, I bored you with all my stupid problems.”

“No, you didn’t! I should’ve known better.”

“You have to let me make it up to you.”

You paused for a second. “Don’t be silly it’s just chicken.”

“Let me take you for dinner.”

“I- When?” you said softly

“Right now.”

You didn’t say anything, you weren’t ready or anything like that.

“Unless you don’t want to go that’s okay too.”

You panicked “No, I would love to it’s just that I look like a mess right now.”

“I bet you’re lying, I want to see you Mickey please let me take you for dinner. If not for me then for the poor chicken you just burned.”

You laughed. “Okay then.”

“Great, what’s your address I’ll pick you up.”

You stopped, was it smart to give him your address? No.

“Or we can meet there Mickey. I’m fine with either.”

You didn’t have a car, you knew how to drive and all that but after one time where your mom yelled at you for making too sharp of a turn you always got nervous when you got behind the wheel. So you walked or biked everywhere now.

You decided to give him your address and in the worst-case scenario maybe Dayla would tell the police it was Roger who murdered you. But you doubt that would happen. He said he’ll be there in fifteen and that you didn’t live far from each other.

You rushed to get ready putting on black jeans and another t-shirt much like the same outfit you first saw him in except this time you decided to put on a little mascara and to fill in your eyebrows.

While you were tying your shoes you heard the buzzer “Hey Mick it’s Roger can you buzz me in?”

Your heart fluttered at the new nickname he had for you “Yeah Roger, I’ll meet you down there.” as you buzzed him in.

You practically ran to the elevator cursing it for taking so long and once it opened at the lobby you saw him there looking extremely good and with flowers in hand.

“Roger!” You called him over.

“Hey Mick, these are for you,” he said as he handed you a bouquet of carnation flowers.

“Thank you so much!” you said as you grabbed them he looked down at you and you leaned into him for a short embrace.

“Would you like to come up for a bit so I can put these in water,” you asked hoping he wouldn’t get the wrong idea.

“Yeah of course.”

You both took the elevator back to your floor in comfortable silence and then you walked him to your door.

“It’s a bit of mess right now and it still smells burnt.” You said as you opened the door.

He took a look around as he walked in “I like it.”

“You don’t have to lie Roger.” you laughed as you filled a vase with water.

“I’m not I like it, it’s cozy even with the burnt smell,” he said as he grinned at you.

“Please don’t remind me.” You groaned as you set the flower vase on the small dining table you had.

He laughed and walked toward your living room “Oh wow.”

“Yeah, that was the mess I was talking about.” you cringed at how it must look.

“This is where you work?”

You shook your head yes.

He walked to the dress you made last night hanging on the mannequin.

“Did you do this?” he asked eyes wide.

“Yeah.”

“Like you made it made it, not like hemmed it or anything,” he said not believing you.

“Yeah, look.” you flipped the back of the dress to show the custom made tags your aunt had made for you when you lived with her. The tag said “Luci’s Attire” it was the best idea you had at the time.

“Wow, this is really good Mickey like for real.”

You grinned at him it felt good being seen.

“Thank you, Roger.” You smiled at him.

“Hey, before we go is it okay if I use your bathroom before we go?”

“Yeah of course.” You led him to the bathroom and told him you would be in the living room.

You decided to crack open a window to help get rid of the burnt smell feeling less nervous about hanging out with Roger.

You both left your apartment building shoulders touching feeling the cool September air blow through your hair. He opened the door to his car with a huge smile on his face. You gave a soft thanks and sat in his car.

The car itself was really nice probably the nicest car you have ever been in. The outside was painted in a sleek black and the inside leather was all red. You were honestly scared to touch anything so you kept your hands on your lap. Roger got in the driver’s seat and turned to you.

“Is it okay if we go to this place I know they serve the best Italian food.”

“The best?” you said with an eyebrow raised.

“Well, the best I had, actually maybe we should go somewhere else.” He said while reversing.

“No, I would like to go actually.” You said laughing

“I don’t think it’s a good idea now Mick-”

“Please Roger.” You said with a pleading voice.

He did a quick double-take at you and gave a small smile.

He turned the dial of his radio to change the channel.

“What kind of music do you like listening to?” he asked

“Can I be honest?” you said low

“Yes please.”

“I like American music.” You said laughing.

“AMERICAN MUSIC! Mickey you have got to be kidding me!”

“I’m sorry Roger I don’t know why I’m just obsessed with America for some reason.”

“Mickey we are probably living in the best era of music in Great Britain and you choose America. It’s simply not patriotic of you.”

“Well, I’m not from the UK Roger! Also, I could’ve sworn you put on more of an accent than you really have on ” you said laughing

“I did not! Don’t change the subject either!”

“Yes, you did you said ‘Amerikah’ like you were the Queen herself.”

“Ok maybe but come on Mickey!”

“I like music from here too, the first song I heard that was in English was the Beatles.”

“And you think American music is better?!”

“Just purely because I have this fascination with America. And I do like music from here and Spain and Italy it has nothing to do with-”

“Alright alright alright, but I’ll show you some real music.”

He pulled into the Italian restaurant and of course, it was named “Giovanni’s Italian Restaurant” You almost rolled your eyes.

“Let’s go,” he said with a smile as he opened your door for you.

Taglist <3: @johnricharddeacy

#Queen #queen band #queen smut #queen fluff #queen imagine #rogertaylor #roger taylor fanfic #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor smut #roger taylor fluff #ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy smut

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houseisekai · 3 years

Text

House Isekai: A Realm Reborn - Part 2, Through the Maelstrom (2 of 3)

House Isekai ARR Masterlist Here

—

Client: Hilda Valentin Goneril

Refusing to work with the newly reformed House Isekai due to Class VII, Duvalie takes her orders and storms off to Goneril territory, trying to get home faster. Not wanting to leave Duvalie completely alone, Raelyn and Fireteam Alpha-Nine accompany her.

Reports indicate of a giant serpent-like beast terrorizing the ocean trade routes near Goneril territory, and an unknown entity accompanying it…

—

(Raelyn) “I will accompany her to ensure their survival. Until then, House Isekai.”

Raelyn turned to the portal and walked through it.

After getting the minimum knowledge required about the Abyss Mages, Buck and his squad followed her through the portal.

(Kazuma) “…Wait a second, none of them knows anything about Fodlan. Why did we let them go anywhere alone?”

(Sitri) “…That’s a good question.”

When Duvalie stepped through the portal, she was still muttering to herself angrily.

(Duvalie) "Ugh, the nerve of those people! As if we can work hand in hand like nothing's ever happened!"

Her ranting continued, even when Raelyn stepped in behind her, looking around his environment.

(Raelyn) "...Duvalie, was it?"

(Duvalie) "And that jackass, Rean! What on EARTH ever made him think we were friends?! I ought to-"

Raelyn sighed and holstered his bolter. Even his footsteps didn't alert her.

(Raelyn) "Cease your complaints."

Duvalie spun around and opened her mouth about to continue until she realized she was only up to his lower chest. Her head tilted all the way up for her to even see Raelyn's helmet.

(Duvalie) "Listen you giant yellow tin can, you don't know what they're like!"

(Raelyn) "They seem calmer than you."

(Duvalie) "Tch, whatever. Why are you even here anyway? I can handle this on my own!"

(Raelyn) "Ah, then I assume you know the layout of the land? The person we're supposed to meet? What the state of the world even is?"

(Duvalie) "...I-I...I can just figure it out myself!"

(Raelyn) "Indeed."

Raelyn turned to the portal and saw the ODST squad walk in.

(Buck) "Right, we got the information we need. As for lay of the land, think one of the locals is about to tag along."

Aigis and Kazuma were on the other side nodding about to say something before the portal suddenly closed.

(Mickey) "...Or not."

...

Everyone was confused on why the portal closed.

Sitri made sure no one was looking at her as she whispered.

(Sitri) "Sothis?"

(Sothis) "Uh, don't look at me. I wasn't even the one who opened it."

(Sitri) "Wait, then where did...?"

...

(Romeo) "Great. Now we gotta wander around and pray to god it's the right way."

(Dutch) "Not even sure the good lord would poke his head out in wherever this is."

(Duvalie) "Wha-DID THEY CLOSE THE PORTAL ON US?!"

(Raelyn) "You were the one who wanted to do this alone."

(Duvalie) "IF I WANT YOUR INPUT, I'LL ASK!"

(Buck) "Enough of the shouting already! Complaining isn't going to do us any good. Besides, we got the data we need, we'll be fine...probably."

(Duvalie) "Fine, whatever."

Duvalie had her hand on the sword sheathe as she stormed off.

(Duvalie) "Let's get going then."

(Mickey) "Wrong way. It's behind us."

Duvalie quickly marched towards the direction Mickey pointed to, muttering something.

Raelyn slowly walked up to the squad.

(Raelyn) "I cannot speak for her, but it is a pleasure to fight alongside you."

(Buck) "Feeling's mutual. Come on, we should hurry before she pops a vein."

The five walked casually behind Duvalie who stayed in the front.

Fodlan, Goneril Territory, Evening...

[Stilness of Night - Trails of Cold Steel 3 OST]

The group eventually found a path leading towards a town inside Goneril territory, and continued on it until the sun began setting.

(Buck) "Huh. Place doesn't look half bad with a sunset."

(Dutch) "Yeah, somethin' you'd see from a storybook."

(Raelyn) "I have not had the pleasure of experiencing a world as quiet as this before."

(Duvalie) "Hm. My world was something kind of like this, but not as primitive to not have lamp posts at least."

(Romeo) "Think you're the most primitive out of all of us here, lady."

(Duvalie) "Excuse me?!"

(Mickey) "Changing the subject, just how far is this place?"

(Buck) "Shouldn't be more than a few minutes. The town according to that Sitri lady is about to come into view right about...Ah, there we go."

They eventually reached the top of a hill and saw a small fishing town with the sunset directly shining on top of it.

(Raelyn) "Excellent. We should reach the town by nightfall."

They all continued walking silently until Dutch spoke up.

(Dutch) "So uh, any idea what that creature is like?"

Everyone had read the report given to them by Sitri, but no one actually knew what they were in for.

(Romeo) "It said a serpent, so maybe an underwater snake or something."

(Mickey) "We aren't strangers to alien life, but I doubt it'd be simple to kill. This place seems to have magic after all."

(Raelyn) "It matters not. If our guns can work, then we can kill it."

(Duvalie) "I'm more concerned about those weird floating chubby things the Knights of Favonius mentioned."

(Buck) "What did they call them...Abyss mages?"

(Dutch) "Think that's it. They don't seem that tough to beat."

(Romeo) "Especially when we can put a round between their eyes from a hundred yards away."

(Duvalie) "If that's the case, then why are they so dangerous?"

(Mickey) "Guess we'll find out soon. Until we actually fight one, don't think we can properly assess the situation."

Finally, they reached the town's entrance. The concrete path shook beneath their equipment, gathering strange looks from the townsfolk.

Some mothers hid their children behind them while some of the men passing by whispered to each other.

(Romeo) "Think we might be standing out a little."

(Duvalie) "You all maybe, I look perfectly fine. Might be mustard bottle over here that's getting all the looks."

(Raelyn) "...You are referring to me?"

(Duvalie) "Duh! Who did you think I meant?"

(Raelyn) "What is 'mustard'?"

(Buck) "Good lord man, just how far in the future are you?"

(Raelyn) "It is the 42nd millennium."

(Dutch) "...Damn. That explains why you don't really seem to lighten up."

They made their way to the center of town, where multiple people kept staring at them.

(Romeo) "Any particular reason why we're standing out in the open like this? Not exactly doing us any favors with the people here."

(Duvalie) "Shut it, trying to find a tavern or something. There's gotta be one here."

Mickey and Buck helped Duvalie look around their surroundings to try and find a tavern. Romeo and Dutch shrugged and made sure the townspeople weren't going to try anything.

Raelyn was about to help when he heard small footsteps approaching.

It was two children who were chasing each other, most likely playing. They had failed to notice the offworlders they were running towards until a girl hit her head on Raelyn's leg.

(Girl) "Ow...! What in-"

Her eyes went wide when she stared up at the 8 foot tall Space Marine looking down on her.

Both the kids look terrified until Raelyn knelt down, trying to get on their eye level the best he could while taking off his helmet. He made sure his Bolter was strapped to his back.

(Raelyn) "My apologies. Are you hurt?"

(Girl) "N-...No sir."

Raelyn offered a hand to the girl. His hand was massive compared to the child, he could effortlessly crush her head with one hand.

Yet, he was extremely gentle in making sure not to harm or intimidate the children, the girl grabbing his hand and standing up.

(Raelyn) "If I can bother you for a moment more, do you know where the Tavern is?"

(Boy) "Um...It's to your right, mister. The building next to the docks."

Raelyn nodded and motioned away from them.

(Raelyn) "Thank you. Get home safe, now."

(Girl) "Thank you, mister."

The two kids appeared to be put at ease despite the size difference, and continued playing as if nothing happened. Something that shocked the adults watching.

The ODST's and Duvalie watched the exchange and were surprised that this walking ton of armor managed not to utterly terrify the two kids.

(Raelyn) "You have your tavern. Let us get to it."

(Duvalie) "...Right."

They continued off to the Tavern, still noticing all the adults watching them, albeit slightly more at ease.

(Romeo) "Now that sweet moment's over, time to see how well you work with a bar full of drunkards, big guy."

(Dutch) "Come on, I'm great with people."

(Mickey) "Sure, you are. How about Raelyn? Actually can he even get through the door?"

Duvalie was the first to enter, followed by the ODST's with Raelyn the last one.

He stared awkwardly at the doorframe, and back to his armor.

Even if he tried to crouch, he would break the doorframe.

(Raelyn) "I...will keep watch out here."

(Romeo) "Put those people skills to work."

(Buck) "Think you should be worried about doing that yourself."

[Another Round - Final Fantasy XIV OST]

Everyone inside the bar stopped talking when they saw Duvalie march in with the ODST's.

Duvalie saw the bartender and sat down on a stool.

The bartender was a bald middle aged man who had clearly seen better days. He had a scar over his left eye and a beard that was barely kept clean.

(Bartender) "...Can I help you with something missie?"

(Duvalie) "We're here on request of...what was her name?"

Buck stood next to Duvalie, making his visor visible so the bartender could see his mouth.

(Buck) "Hilda. Ring a bell?"

(Bartender) "Ah, Lord Holst's sister. And who exactly do I owe the pleasure of speaking to?"

(Duvalie) "I'm Duvalie."

(Buck) "Call me Buck, and this is my Squad. Fella outside is with us too."

(Bartender) "I see. And another question, who exactly ya workin' for? Don't see people dressed like yer group at all."

The people in the nearby tables began whispering. Mickey was the furthest from the group but he was only able to hear snippets of conversations.

(Man) "Hey, you think those are those House Isekai freaks? The ones from the calamity?"

(Man 2) "They sure as hell don't belong here, that's for sure!"

(Man 3) "Worse, they could be spies for the seppies'!"

(Mickey) "Think we might got a problem..."

Duvalie was clearly getting impatient, and before she could open her mouth and start a bar brawl, Buck butted in.

(Buck) "Mercenaries. We work for money."

The bartender raised an eyebrow as he eyed them up and down. Finally shrugging, he dropped the question.

(Bartender) "Fair enough. We'll send a letter to let 'em know people have arrived to take care of the problem. Shouldn't be more than a day or so. Now, ya buying something or am I going to have ta' throw your asses out?"

(Duvalie) "Hmph. Thought bartenders were supposed to be friendly."

(Bartender) "And I thought customers were supposed to be paying."

Now Dutch decided to intervene.

(Dutch) "Apologies for the lady. She's got a temper on her. Surprise us."

(Bartender) "Can do. You got gold?"

Everyone looked at each other awkwardly.

(Romeo) "Oh you have got to be kidding..."

(Buck) "Think we can get this one on the house?"

(Bartender) "This isn't a charity. And you're mercenaries, right? Surely you got some gold on you to get all the equipment on yourselves."

This got more people talking, and it was clear some of them were getting riled up.

Raelyn could hear the conversation from outside, and saw some of the adults from earlier getting a closer look at him.

(Raelyn) "..."

Raelyn's visor picked up more signatures. Some of them were armed. He used one hand to knock on the doorframe, alerting Romeo and Mickey.

(Romeo) "Hey, Gunny. Think things are about to get real ugly."

One of the customers stood up from his table and shouted with an ale cup in hand.

(Man) "Come on, pay the damn drink and quit causing a scene! Mercs always got coin on them! You one of those damn offworlders?!"

(Man 2) "Nah, worse than one, he's a seppie!"

(Man 3) "WE DON'T WANT ANYMORE TO DO WITH YOU, KEEP YOUR SEPARATIST MOVEMENT OUT OF HERE!"

More and more people riled up, making the ODST's keep a finger on their triggers.

Duvalie kept her cool on the outside, ready to lash out if someone dared make a move.

Raelyn grabbed his Bolter and calmly held it in his hands, watching everyone suddenly stiffen up.

(Bartender) "...Well?"

(Woman's voice) "Sorry, sorry. We'll pay, they're with us."

Everyone suddenly turned to a girl who seemingly appeared out of nowhere, putting gold onto the table.

Duvalie made a noise that no one could decipher if it was a swear or a gasp.

Buck turned to the girl who had just saved them from a potential firefight.

[End Song]

(White-haired girl) "They just forgot to bring their gold with them...Again."

(Bartender) "Hmph. Aren't you a little young to be the boss of a mercenary team, kid?"

(White-haired girl) "Could say the same for the second Blade Breaker."

(Bartender) "Hah, got me there."

(Duvalie) "I...You...!?"

(White-haired girl) "If you wanna complain, do it later and not in front of customers. Gives us a bad rep."

(Buck) "...Thanks boss."

Everyone quickly played along.

As Raelyn was about to point the Bolter at everyone, two more people got in front of him, motioning to the left.

(Blue haired girl) "Hey, got our room. Quit standing around all scary-like."

(Orange haired boy) "Come on, it's this way!"

The orange haired boy winked at Raelyn, and having no better idea, he played along.

The blue haired girl looked at Fie and nodded.

The white haired girl slid the gold to the Bartender and sighed.

(White-haired girl) "We'll take it to go. Keep the change."

The white haired girl turned to the group and pointed at the blue haired girl.

(White-haired girl) "Follow her and don't cause a scene again."

Duvalie looked like she was about to scream when she saw the blue haired girl. Not wanting to deal with this mob, Buck shoved her along.

(Duvalie) "H-Hey, what the?!"

(Buck) "Shut the hell up and move it, the last thing we want to do is start a fight!"

The ODST's, Raelyn, and Duvalie followed the orange haired boy to what appeared to be a rented out building. Amazingly, Raelyn could actually fit through the door.

When everyone was situated, the blue haired girl put a device on the door and window, and with a little static noise, she nodded in satisfaction.

(Elliot) "Whew, man! Things looked SUPER bad there..."

(Laura) "Oh...It's you. That would explain how the townspeople became aggravated so quickly."

(Duvalie) "Believe me, you lot are doing the same to me...!"

(Elliot) "Wait...Duvalie?!"

(Romeo) "Jesus lady, just who DON'T you know?"

(Raelyn) "More friends like Rean, I presume?"

(Duvalie) "WE ARE NOT FRIENDS!"

(Buck) "Clearly. Anyways, thanks for pulling our asses out the fire. Where's that white haired one?"

The door opened, and she was carrying some mugs of ale in her hand.

(Fie) "...Hey."

She casually gave most of the group their mugs, leaving Duvalie without one.

(Duvalie) "...Really?"

(Fie) "Figured you didn't want one...Actually, we didn't figure you'd be here at all."

(Romeo) "That's great and all, but mind explaining just who you people are?"

(Elliot) "I'm Elliot! That's Fie and Laura, and we were part of the original House Isekai. Class VII, to be specific."

(Dutch) "And clearly you know Duvalie."

(Laura) "For better or worse..."

(Raelyn) "Seeing the situation we are in, I would rather not alienate the only help at talking to the locals here."

Despite the fact he had a helmet, she could feel a piercing gaze shoot straight through her.

(Buck) "Agreed. So, what brings people such as yourselves here?"

(Fie) "Hm. Long story short-..."

===

Doomguy's Base, 1 Day Earlier...

[Briefing Time - Trails of Cold Steel 3 OST]

(VEGA) "All attempts of establishing a secure line has failed. It appears something is blocking our ability to respond."

Doomguy frowned as he checked the screens. Nothing was damaged on anyone's end, yet he was only able to receive Sitri's distress call.

He said nothing as he turned to the teleporter. It appears someone was finally arriving.

(VEGA) "Signatures detected. Class VII members: Elliot, Laura, and Fie. Authorize access?"

Doomguy nodded as he put his helmet on, letting the three former House Isekai members materialize onto the pad.

The first one was Laura, quickly followed by Elliot and Fie. Elliot appeared to be staggered while the other two were barely fazed.

(Elliot) "Oh man, still not used to that!"

(Fie) "Doubt we ever will."

(Laura) "Instructor. It's been quite some time."

They turned their attention to Doomguy who gave them a nod.

(VEGA) "It is a pleasure to see you all well."

(Laura) "Likewise. I only wish the circumstances were better."

(Fie) "Tried contacting everyone else we could, but they were either busy or didn't respond at all, so for now we're all you're getting.

(Elliot) "We received a distress call from Sitri. Is everything alright in Fodlan?"

Doomguy shrugged and motioned for them to follow him out the room.

(VEGA) "A distress signal was sent out, and normally we would have been able to respond, but an unknown variable has been preventing us from doing so. However, we are still able to keep track of any movement via teleportation of former House Isekai members."

(Fie) "If it has the ability to block dimensional calling, that's pretty strong, whatever it is."

(Laura) "Has anyone else been able to respond this entire time?

(VEGA) "Yes. Rean Schwarzer, Towa Herschel, Satou Kazuma, and Aigis have been the only four to do so."

(Elliot) "That explains why we couldn't call Rean and Towa."

(Laura) "Aigis I can understand, but for Kazuma to show up? That surprises me."

(Fie) "Guessing you haven't been able to ask them what's going on either?"

(VEGA) "Your assumption is correct."

(Fie) "Guess that means we gotta get our hands dirty."

Fie checked her gunblades and stretched her arms.

(Laura) "Hopefully combat won't be necessary."

(Elliot) "Buuut that doesn't really seem possible, if I'm being honest. Trouble tends to follow us no matter where we go."

Doomguy checked his shotgun's ammo as he opened up the door to another teleportation chamber.

(VEGA) "We thank you for responding regardless, but we will ask if you may investigate this phenomenon on our behalf."

(Fie) "Sure. Things are pretty stable back home."

(Elliot) "So, if we're going into Fodlan, how are we going to keep in contact?"

(VEGA) "We are assuming there will be a total communications blackout. If you do not respond within a week in Fodlan's time, we will directly intervene."

(Laura) "All right then. Looks like our goals are to find former House Isekai members and find out what's going on."

(VEGA) "Affirmative."

(Fie) "Mission parameters established then. Let's begin."

(VEGA) "...Strange. There appears to be a teleportation to the Goneril territory."

(Elliot) "What's so weird about it?"

(VEGA) "It was not activated by Sothis, but rather the tower itself."

(Everyone) ?

(Laura) "But there is no one there. Right? Instructor Byleth made sure of that."

(Fie) "Guess that's another thing we gotta investigate. First let's head to where that teleportation took place.."

(Elliot) "That's Hilda's last name, isn't it?"

(VEGA) "Hilda Valentine Goneril. Unofficial retainer to Claude Von Riegan."

Doomguy stood behind a console and pressed several buttons and looked at the members of Class VII.

(Elliot) "So three things to do, got it! We'll see you soon!"

(VEGA) "Good luck, Class VII."

Doomguy gave them a thumbs up before he pulled the lever.

They were absorbed into a beam of light and were taken to the location VEGA reported...

...

===

(Buck) "So...that portal wasn't theirs?"

(Fie) "No. Something else pulled you here, and we came to find out why, among other things."

(Elliot) "On top of that, we have to find out specifically why you all were brought here. Our group didn't have much reason other than it being chance but yours it seems almost deliberate."

(Raelyn) "I fail to think of anything unique happening to where I'd be brought into a world like this."

(Dutch) "Same with us."

(Duvalie) "Agreed..."

(Laura) "Well, despite the unusual circumstances that has brought us here, the former members of House Isekai ask to join forces with your group."

(Raelyn) "No objections here."

(Romeo) "It's either work together or be stuck in this place forever, so we might as well."

(Mickey) "You got our support."

The ODST's and Raelyn turned to Duvalie.

She crossed her arms, barely able to keep her anger down.

(Buck) "How old are you, exactly?"

(Duvalie) "SHUT UP! FINE! FINE! WHATEVER, YAAY WE'RE BEST FRIENDS! NOW ENOUGH!"

(Elliot) "Hah...g-glad to see she hasn't...changed?"

(Raelyn) "There is nothing about her personality that I have seen thus far that you should be glad about, Elliot."

(Duvalie) "EXCUSE ME?!-"

[TO BE CONTINUED]

#House Isekai #House Isekai ARR #duvalie #raelyn amuto #buck #romeo #dutch #mickey

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notyetneedcoffee · 4 years

Text

Do Not Call

Part of the Calling Series

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warning: NSFW, 18+, Loads of lovely smut!

Somewhere between the DNA sequence string comparisons and the genomic polyprotein readouts a hot twisting knot of pain began to grow between your shoulder blades. Shifting in your seat, rocking your head from one side to another, caught the attention of one of the other team members in the lab.

“Y/N, why don’t you call it a day? How long have you been here? You got here before I did.”

“I just want finish logging the results of this test.” You looked at the clock in the corner of the screen. “And I’ve been here for, ah, just over eleven hours.”

“Go home. You’ve been pulling long days for the last couple weeks.” He stuck his face back into the microscope before muttering. “And don’t take this wrong, but you look like shit.”

“Fine.” You rubbed at your sore neck. The test would run for several more hours and you really didn’t have it in you to stay. It would be here in the morning. Not even bothering to go back to your office, you just shut down and headed to the elevators. Bucky’s apartment was just upstairs.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t.

He and Natasha were on a mission somewhere in Russia. The usual fun and flirty phone calls violated the strict communications black out required for the job. Even though disappointing, it didn’t change the work to be done. It didn’t even change much about your normal routine. You worried a little more, but quickly remembered they were two of the most capable survivors on the planet.

After nearly three weeks, however, everyone else noticed your tension levels.

“Hey Doc, you interested in calzones?” Sam called out from the communal kitchen as you came off the elevator. “They’re from Mickey’s”

“Thanks, but I think I just need a hot bath.” You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

Steve snagged your hand as you passed where he was sitting. He looked concerned “Did you have dinner?”

“No, but I’m fine.”

“You look beat.” He frowned.

“Gee, thanks.” You sighed. “I have a headache, that’s all…and knot the size of a mac truck in the middle of my back.”

“You’re missing out on all those sexy endorphins.” Sam laughed as he lowered himself on to the sofa, big plate of food in his hand. Steve shot him a look, but you just chuckled. Sam set the food on the coffee table and tossed a throw pillow on the floor in front him. “Come on over.”

Your eyebrow rose in question, but he just patted the front of the sofa between his spread knees. “Now, woman.”

With a rueful smile, you sat down and tucked your legs under the table. Sam moved your hair aside and dramatically rubbed his hands together. Steve rolled his eyes with a grin. The two men pretty much adopted you as theirs to take care of whenever Bucky was away. You found it really endearing, especially because Bucky bounced back and forth between being thankful and annoyed by it.

Immediately, Sam’s thumbs found the knot and you yipped. Telling you to breath, he used pinpoint pressure then rubbed out the muscle. He knew exactly what to do. You groaned as the pain released.

“Chill out, Barnes. There’s no use being a dick about it now.” Natasha leaned against the wall of the elevator, arms cross.

“It’s bullshit.” He glared at the closed door. “Fine. The extraction team got us to the jet and they debriefed us on the flight. Sure whatever. But after the debrief, or even once we landed stateside, keeping us on communication black out is bullshit.”

She just let him rant. Listening to reason when anger spooled him up like this just didn’t happen. Nat watched his agitation level grow higher and higher over the last couple weeks. Teasing about being a whipped boyfriend even stopped being fun. He had it bad.

The elevator doors opened and he nearly bolted for his apartment.

“Oh damn, yes, right there.”

Your moaned words stopped him in his tracks.

“What the fuck?”

Three very different responses happened at the same time.

“Buck!” Steve hopped up happily.

“Ahhh!” You let out a delighted squeal and tried to get up.

“Hey, man.” Sam’s hands went up in the air like he was being held at gunpoint.

Bucky gave Steve a back-slapping hug, but his eyes stayed on Wilson. Steve stepped aside as soon as you came close because you launched yourself at Bucky, arms around his neck. Instinct took over, he wrapped you in both arms, face burying in your neck. He lifted you off your feet, squeezing tight, before pulling back enough to look at you.

His blue eyes drank in every detail, from the smile on your face to darkness under your eyes. Warm fingers of his right hand push through your hair. His mouth closed over yours, heated but restrained. Inhaling deeply through his nose, he rested his forehead to yours.

“Missed you.” You breathed against his mouth.

“He missed you, too.” Natasha laughed. “What a bear.”

“How did things go?” Steve asked from somewhere behind you.

“The trail was tough to follow and the intelligence targets were well trained, but that’s when our particular skill sets are useful.” Natasha gave Steve a blank face stare, silently saying don’t ask questions when you know you won’t like the answers.

“I don’t even want to know what you mean by that.” Sam commented.

“I’m not ready to hear you speak.” Bucky growled out, even though his face was still focused on you. Rolling your eyes, you pulled away a little. His harsh stare landed on Sam. “Wanna explain why you were touching my girl?”

“Cause she needed someone with two good hands to make her feel better.” Sam threw back.

He literally growled. You laughed, so did Sam. After a beat, Bucky rolled his eyes. A possessive hand rested on the back of your neck. Smiling up you explained, “I’ve had a knot in my back that just won’t go away.”

Bucky pressed his lips to your temple, speaking low. “Then we should take care of that.”

You still could feel the coiled tension in Bucky’s body. He practically vibrated. “Are you all done? Can we go?”

“Guys,” Bucky clapped Steve on the shoulder. “We’ll catch up in the morning.”

As soon as Bucky led you around the corner towards his apartment, he pinned you against the wall. Strong body pressed against yours, the heat of him soaked into you. You smiled against his lips as his mouth captured yours. Nipping your lower lip, the kiss deepened, becoming heated.

“Take me home.” You breathed.

Bucky led you into the apartment, pushing you back against the door as soon as it closed. His mouth crashed against yours, demanding, wet and desperate. Both of his hands cradled your face, as he pressed his forehead to yours. You could see him try to rein himself in.

Breathing deeply, his voice came out rough. “Have you been okay?”

“Yeah,” you kissed his full lips. Bucky’s blue eyes bore into you. “I’ve been working too long, because I missed you.”

He kissed you, deep and wet. “I need you. Now.”

“I’m here.” You nipped your way along his jaw, soft lips on rough stubble.

Bucky pulled you tight against him. Powerful hands pulled at you, fingers digging into your hips. Fingers slid through his soft hair. With a growl, Bucky lifted you so your legs wrapped around his hips. The evidences of his arousal pressed to your core, and you ground into him.

“Fuck,” He rumbled against your lips. “I missed you.”

“Missed you, too” You panted, pulling at his shirt as Bucky’s mouth ravaged your neck, biting, licking, and sucking. The desperate clawing at each other’s clothes, left a trail across the room.

He fell forward on the bed, you beneath him. Taking your nipple between teeth and brutally sucking lips, Bucky caused your back to arch. A cry escaped your throat. You pulled at his hair. He licked and bit his way down your body.

“Oh fuck!” His touch felt so good, hot and desperate. You’d missed this.

Bucky’s hands roved down your thighs. They fell open for him, exposing how soaking wet you were. He inhaled deeply before lapping at your cunt. Your hand tangled in his hair. A cry ripped from your throat we he sucked hard at your clit.

Fingers delving into you, he nipped along your inner thighs. His voice was heavy, deep as Bucky crawled up, leaving nips on your belly, your neck. “Mine.”

Bucky pushed your knees up to your armpits, your breath rushed from your body as he buried his cock deep, setting a fevered pace. Panting, your legs shook against Bucky’s arms. His head drooped, breathing through his mouth.

“Feels so fucking good.” Bucky growled out. Skin slapped against skin. His cock slammed into your wall, making your cunt quiver and clench. “Yes.”

Pleasure dancing on the edge of pain, your eyes rolled back. Fire exploded at your core. Legs tensing, cunt flooding, you clawed at him. Feral, desperate noises escaped your throat as you came apart.

Bucky growled, riding out your orgasm before pulling out and flipping you over. He pulled your hips up, ass high, and slammed into you hard. Burying your face into the mattress as you cried out, he fucked you hard and fast, setting a brutal pace.

“Yes!” You shook a second orgasm smashing over you almost immediately. “Fuck! Oh shit!”

His fingers dug deep. “Ah! Fuck!” He growled. “Gonna fill you up.” His hips slammed into your ass. “My girl.” Bucky shuttered as he emptied himself. “Mine.”

You both collapsed into the mattress, panting and sweaty. He stretched out on his side, trailing his fingertips over your skin as you lay on your stomach. Bucky’s lips pressed against your shoulder. He knew there would bruises on your hips.

Humming contently, you lazily smiled at him. You'd lost all other ability to move. “Are you okay?”

Bucky sighed, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “I am now.”

“I was worried.” You whispered.

“You know I can take care of myself.” He smiled.

“I was more worried about,” the words were a little hard to say, “how employing your special skill sets might affect you.”

Bucky’s eye grew distant for just a moment, but he refocused on you. “I’m okay.”

A yawn over took you, and you hid your face in the blanket. “Sorry.”

“What do you say I run you a bath, then we’ll sleep.” Bucky rested his forehead against your shoulder.

“Sounds perfect.”

Bucky wondered into the communal kitchen for coffee. Few others were up, the hour still early. After a very long bath, and making love slow and sensual, you feel into a deep sleep. He’d lain awake studying you face, noticing the dark circles. Whether from the time change or his over active mind, he didn’t sleep for long.

“Hey Pal.” Steve came up behind Bucky, slapping a hand on his shoulder.

“Morning.” Bucky held up the pot. “Coffee?”

“Yeah.” He took the cup. “Didn’t really expect to see you up yet.”

“Couldn’t sleep and Y/N looks like she needs the rest.” Bucky sat down at the counter. “Did she stay here the whole time?”

“I think so.” Cap shrugged. “She works a lot when you’re not here.”

Bucky frowned into his cup. They’d both been working too much. Since becoming part of the team, he’d taken on more and more. At first, he wanted to do whatever he could to be of use... to be accepted. Then the jobs came his way to lighten the load for Steve and the others. They deserved a little breathing space. Unfortunately, he really never worked out giving himself a break.

“Morning Cap, Barnes.” Bruce Banner shuffled in, scratching his head and still wearing sweats and a tee shirt that were rumpled from sleep. He pulled a bottle of some sort of fruit smoothie from the fridge and cracked it open. After downing a third of the bottle, he leaned against the counter. “Hey, tell Y/N her simulation failed. I don’t think she was really expecting success on this run, but she’s being chasing this solution for weeks.”

“Yeah.” Bucky nodded. “I’ll let her know. Steve, I’ll talk to you later.” He poured himself another cup of coffee and went back to his apartment.

Peering in the dimly lit bedroom, he saw you curled on your side, clutching his pillow to your chest. He pulled the door partly closed and went back to the living area. Even though he was home, even though holding you soothed him, he still felt a bone deep weariness.

He reclined back on the sofa, locking every image of you in his memory so during the times away he could call them up and see your face, hear your voice, lose himself in the memory of how you feel. Only this morning, he saw the tiredness he felt echoed in your face. You told him you were fine, but you always said you were fine.

Bucky drank down the last of his coffee. “F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes.”

“Please reduce volume, Y/N is sleeping.”

“How may I help you?” came the AI’s voice at half volume.

“How many hours has Y/N worked in the lab or in her office this week?”

“Docton Y/L/N was on the 32nd floor for 89.6 hours over the last seven days.”

Bucky rubbed his forehead. No wonder you were just as tired. “Thank you.”

“You checking up on me?” Your sleepy voice mumbled from the bedroom door.

“Always.” He stood and wrapped his arms around you. Snuggling into his chest, you slipped your hands beneath his tee shirt and skimmed your palms over the flesh of his lower back. He pressed his lips to your temple. “It’s still early, why don’t you get some more sleep.”

“Come with me.”

“There’s something I need to do first.” Bucky cupped your face, kissing you gently. “Go back to sleep, and I’ll come wake you up soon.”

“You’d better be naked when you do.” You kissed him back.

“Promise.” Bucky smiled. He walked you back to bed and actually tucked the covers in around you, kissing you sweetly. “I’ll be right back.”

He left the apartment and luckily found his target in the kitchen with several of the others. Good, he didn’t need to go hunt him down. “Stark. I need to talk to you.”

You studied the results of your latest test simulation when the phone in your pocket buzzed. Pulling it out, you smiled at the image waiting. It was a pile of Bucky’s tactical gear on the floor of his bathroom, as if he’d just stepped out of them.

‘That looks promising.’ You texted back.

‘Come home.’

You wanted to, you really did. Looking around the lab, you tried to think of excuses to leave. Shifting to your calendar, you examined everything for what could wait. Part of you knew you didn’t need an excuse to take time off. There were no crisis or deadlines looming.

“Wow! Is it always this bright in here?” The voice of Tony Stark drew everyone’s attention. “Hey Doc, got a second?” He looked around the lab, absently picking things up and putting them back down. “I’ve got a, um, side gig for you.”

“Sure,” You stood up. “My office?”

Once alone, Stark buried his hands in his pockets. “Go home.”

“What?” You turned on him.

“I know you’re chasing something down the rabbit hole. I get it. I do. But I did some checking any you’re pulling some major league burn out hours.” Tony leaned into you.

“But,”

“No buts,” He shook his head. “I’ve read your reports. You are on to something, but for the last ten days you’re running in circles. You need to step away. This isn’t anything that won’t wait. Take some time off, and come back at it with a fresh mind.”

“Tony.”

“Doc,” He opened the door to leave. “This isn’t a request. I’d lock out your access to lab, but think Barnes will get a hold of you before that. Go home.”

Bucky. Shit. You never responded to his text earlier. “Alright. You win.”

When you got to Bucky’s apartment, he was leaning against back of the sofa dressed in jeans and a hoodie. A duffel bag rested at his feet. He did not look happy.

“Buck?”

“You’re late.”

“I was working until just a minute ago. I’m sorry I didn’t return your text.”

“Stark had to show up.”

“Ah,” You took a deep breath, of course he would know. “Yeah.”

He nodded. “Alright, then. We’ve got a car waiting. Let’s go.” He picked up the bag and took your arm.

“What? Bucky, what’s going on?”

“We’re taking off.”

“Well, let me tell...” You pulled out your phone to redirect your lab communications to your cell. Bucky grabbed the cell from your hand. “Hey.”

“Not this time, Doll.” A wicked smile crossed his face. “Neither of our number will reach us for the next couple days.”

“So this is what...”

“A kidnapping.” Bucky grinned.

“I was going to say vacation.”

“Nope.” He lunged at you, tossing you over his shoulder.

“Bucky!” You half laughed, half screamed.

He picked up the duffel bag and left the apartment with you over his shoulder. Even as you passed the common area, you continued to plead to be let down. Steve, Sam and Wanda all watched with amusement.

“Dammit, Buck! Please!”

“Have a good time.” Wanda waved.

“Stay hydrated!” Sam shouted. Steve laughed.

“Thanks. See ya later.” Bucky didn’t put you down until you got to the car.

For the entire drive, Bucky’s hand kept slipping over your thigh. His fingers would deep between your legs, rubbing over your cotton covered core. “How long until we get there?”

“Anxious, Doll?”

“It’s all your fault.” You giggled as his hand massaged your inner thigh. “You’re the one who went all caveman and carried me out of there.”

Bucky laughed, a deep and hearty laugh. “Oh, you liked that?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Bucky drove faster.

A short time later the car pulled up in front of a modern steel and wood small house nestled on the shore of a secluded lake. Running around to get your car door, Bucky took your hand and led you inside. He dropped the duffel bag just inside, barely allowing you the opportunity to look around before kissing you deep.

Bucky began to walk you to the bedroom. You pulled your shirt over your head. He smiled, a predatory look, pulling his own shirt over his head. He reached for you, but you backed away. He lunged. You squealed with laughter as he swept you up. He threw you down on to the bed, where you landed with a bounce.

You unzipped your pants, smiling playfully. Buck snagged up your feet tugging your clothes off. A wide smile lit his face and a playful glint burned in blue eyes. Stretching out naked across the bed, back arched, you bit your lip as he unbuckled his pants. Damn, he was gorgeous.

Rolling over onto all fours, your reached for him. He kicked his pants aside and stepped closer to the edge of the bed. With a smirk he held out his cock. “Is this what you want, Doll?”

Wetting your lips with your tongue, you returned the smile. “You know I do.”

Running your tongue around his head, taking him in your mouth, your hummed in delight. Bucky’s hand wound tight in your hair. His hips rocked into your mouth. “Oh, shit, yes!”

Tugging you by the hair, Bucky pulled you away from his cock and up onto your knees. He kissed you hard, wet. “You’re all mine. No distractions.” He nipped at your lips, tongues battling. His left hand squeezed your breasts, metal fingers pinching the taunt nipple. “Fuck, you’re amazing.” He fingers slid between your wet folds.

Curling two fingers into you, he pumped your pussy while you whined into his mouth. He held your head by the hair, kissing you desperately as you began to shake. Moaning and whimpering into his kisses, he smiled against you.

“Shit. Bucky.” You panted.

“Oh yes.” His hand moved fasted, making wet sloppy sounds in you cunt. “That’s it.” He nipped you ear. “Come for me, Doll.”

You flushed. The tension breaking free, making you shake. Coming apart under his hand, you moaned as you collapsed onto his shoulder. Bucky smiled, bringing his fingers to his mouth to lick them. He cupped your face, kissing you slow.

Bucky nudged you back on to the bed. He laid you back, trailing wet, open mouth kisses down your body. He nipped at your side and you twitched, giggling. He chuckled, tickling you again. Attacking you with more enthusiasm, you squirmed, laughing out loud, pushing at him.

He crawled between your legs, taking your hands in his and pining you down. Your wide smile matched his. Bucky nuzzled your neck. “Damn, I love your laugh.”

His hips rolled into yours, the length of him sliding along your core. You curled a leg up and over his hip, tilting until you felt him at your entrance. Bucky slid into you, burying himself in one thrust. You both moaned.

Your fingers entwined with his, Bucky held his weight on his elbows. He plunged into you deep, filling you, body rubbing along body. Your hips tipped, his cock rubbing deliciously along just the right spot. Lost in the intensity of his blue eyes, your heart filled as heat coiled in your core.

“Buck, oh, you feel so good…” You purred. He released your hands, rolling you both over. His hands dug into your hips as you rode him. Your fingers dug into his chest. “Fuck, yes!”

Your body quivered, tightening around him. Bucky growled hips snapping up into you hard. You came with a violent shutter. Practically holding you above him by the hips, he pounded up into you. He lost his rhythm, pressing into you hard, following you over the edge. “Oh, fuck!”

You fell forward onto him, boneless, as your breath returned to normal. His mouth kissed along your neck, up to your ear. Your fingers traced down his sides.

He twitched. You giggled and dug your fingers in.

“No!” Bucky laughed, wiggling beneath you. Laughing, you tried in vain to hold on. He flipped you over, pinning your hands over your head, still chuckling.

You smiled up at him, so happy he’d swept you away. “I love your laugh too.”

TAGS

@rainbowkisses31 / @dsakita / @geeksareunique / @lbouvet / @buckybarneshairpullingkink / @theneuropsychwriter / @vanillabunn21 / @sammghgecko / @beautifullungs / @badassbaker / @the-omni-princess / @sebbysstangirl / @jesseswartzwelder / @unadulteratedwizardlove / @the-reading-octopus / @bangtan-serendipity / @kiki5283 / @mindtravelsx / @josie605 / @ladifreakingda / @dawnlaufeyson / @wildmoonflower / @rynabarnesrogers / @notyourtypicalrose / @sllooney / @wwe-fanfiction-queen / @thorfanficwriter / @scarlettsoldier / @morganhoran1671 / @michelehansel / @sexyvixen7 / @readermia / @buchanansebba

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes

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mocacheezy · 3 years

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Looking at the trailer for the upcoming Netflix Cuphead show, I am just a little dissapointed. I mean it's a short teaser trailer, I dunno what I expected. I was so excited I was hoping the show was out already but aight. Aight. My mistake, am still very excited though.

The animation reminds me of the new Mickey mouse cartoons, which aight, will take me some time to get used to, since it combines the rubberhosey style but also makes it fast. But hey, it's good. I like that the animators are bringing the old timey charm and modern cartoons action pacing together. But, may I say:

King Dice looks amazing, though his voice sounds??? Off??? To me???

It might just be the fact it's been a long, LONG TIME since I've been in Cuphead waters and I didn't play the games (wistfully looks @ Switch prices and vows once more to get that game and the console), but the voice for him I have in my mind is that of Alana Bridgewaters, who sang the Die House song (and how I adore the performance, I am in love with this song still, relistening to it made me smile).

But like, from what lil' dive into the trivia I made (this is just me musing about this stuff, so I am not looking too deep. Don't take this small rant of mine as The Truest Truth Of All Truths aight?) here are some inspirations for the guy:

Now I knew about Calloway, because again, I loved the game since I was also in the BATIM fandom at the time, and the two games are both in the old timey style. Not to mention the jazz music covers and fan songs these two spawned.

Just, *chefs kiss* it was beautiful I tell you guys. My "old soul" heart sang with joy.

But anyways, thanks to that combined hyperfixation I did learn just a bit more about old timey animation (and the studios that competed at the time, and the practices/working conditions, and the lawsuits, and the -... well, you get the picture. It was a hyperfixation of almost three years or so.) which also made me realize that yea, I can see the influence of the singer.

And the song that was sung by Bridgewaters is how I imagined his voice to be (aight, also some of the amazing VAs that used to dub the fancomics, have to pay my respects to them, because they did a wonderful, amazing work. The voice claims for him were all over the place, but her version od Die House was and is my fave) so hearing the speaking voice in the show is... Off. Strange.

I consider myself someone who can and WILL find a way to make even a slight detail in a piece of media make sense or find an explanation, so a thing that doesn't fit with what I thought about a show/character/etc., etc. ends up working, so here it is:

The voice a person talks in can be completely different than the way they sing (and honestly in jazz? In the way these people sing where it can be like listening to silk and smoke, a voice that puts your mind in a relaxed haze, but can also be a wild whirlwind depending on the singer performing?? Like... Yea, there is def a difference, gotta keep that voice in shape and that throat well tuned)

The voice actor for the character Alameda Slim in Disney's Home on the Range (2004) could not yodel, so the studio contacted a singer who was in the scene, was well known and could yodel so well, that my lil slovene self wanted to learn how to yodel, and probably drew my parents NUTS with my attempts. So there IS a big chance in my opinion, of our Mr. getting a different VA for singing (oh let the man sing, please good goth give us the sleazy bastard singing, I will throw all of my non existent cash at his feet, go into proper debt and sign my soul to his boss if that happens. Yes, it appears I am an unshamed simp for villain men who have purple in their colorscheme. With each year I mind it less)

Not only that, but I am uncertain if the song was a spurr of the moment decision/fun easter egg made by the creative team, or if they wanted to include it, but lacked the budget/time/ideas who to contact (the game was supposed to be released earlier, but took longer to complete which... Have you SEEN the game? Like, I bet the wait was worth it, the animation is HAND FUCKING DRAWN!!!). Whatever the reason was, Madam Bridgewaters has my heart, and my wish to one day be able to get my voice to that kind of tones because damn. Damn my heart. Hearing that voice after years had me melt. Hats off madam. Miss? Madam? Ma'am.

Netflix gave them a good budget. They are using their budget. That's it. They have a vision of how the show will look, however I do hope we get an actual trailer soon. I want to see more of this amazing thing they are making (but patience is a virtue, so just *vibrates with restrained excitement*)

...

So to wrap up this Netflix Cuphead rant of mine:

Mr. King Dice still has my heart, even if I am a bit iffy about the voice. Also, shout out to the people in charge of getting the sneak peak out, they KNOW who the fans simp for.

The animation is more crisp than I'd imagine and faster than what the game style animation was. Again, will get used to it, but it will take some time. Kudos to the animators because well damn, even the other cartoons have great designs and I love the phone dude. I hope he rolls high. (also good fucking point from some other people, if the full show was done in the style the game was done, it would take years for one/few episodes to be finished)

I will keep an eye out for when the show drops, and might screech about it in the future. I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE THOSE TWO CUPS BE THEIR MOST AMAZING RASCAL SELVES!!!

Anyone who will not be able to look @ the gaming dice if I start simping for that dapper casino manager again, I apologize, may your gaming nights not be too awkward if you own purple/lavender dice. There will be no actual content that you'll have to shield your eyes from, but just know it's out there and that it is 😙👌 and you are being spared from my full on thirsting on main.

#moca talks #cuphead show #Netflix cuphead show #Am I excited? Yes.#Am I delighted that it exists? YES.#Am I ready for it? ABSOLUTELY NOT.#I can't wait for it to drop though I am so curious what they did with it ✨

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gautierprotectionsquad · 3 years

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Saint and the Sinner by Sam Burns review (contains spoilers)

Book 4 of the Wilde Love series.

I don’t know why i call these reviews. they’re more like reactions. I end up spending a large part of this post angry ranting about Brendan Quinn.

I thought this book might take place around the same time as book 2. At least chapter 1 is a scene that happened in book 2 in Owen’s pov. Also, great chapter title. “Owen Gets a Prologue, Sort Of.” I never mention them but the chapter titles for these books are pretty good. Not so much for book 3 bc book 3 was sad.

I headcanonned Owen as demiromantic and Mickey as demisexual before reading this book. I don’t really headcannon them as that anymore.

I’m glad there’s a barista showing concern for him. I love how this series gives it’s extras so much life within the story. They aren’t just bystanders, they’re people.

Oh wow. Mickey kissed him. Within the first chapter. How long has mickey been harboring those feelings? I do not mind a sex scene in chapter 1. Such a good sex scene.

“I have feelings.” He was terrified for a moment that Owen was saying he had feelings for him, and that would be the end of him. “And I show them all the time. Is that a problem?” Dude are you fking stupid? Owen’s had feelings for you since forever. You knows he’s been into you since he was 13.

wAIT. Mickey just assumed Key knew he was bi? OWEN had to be the one to tell him his brother had no clue? I honestly don’t know who’s stupider, mickey or key. When we first met mickey, liam said he was straight too. Are all his friends just assuming he’s straight bc he was dating Amy or is he just living life as he is but never explicitly saying he’s bi and just assuming his friends would figure it out? Like a part of me thinks he just doesn’t tell his friends stuff.

Also, damn owen. He definitely loves knowing he has that kinda power over mickey’s dick now.

I’m a bit worried that mickey is the guy brendan quinn has in mind as his replacement. Damn just confirmed right after i typed that. fuuuuck.

“You will be okay, O. No matter what, I’ll make sure you’re okay.”

So this is the first book where the conflicts do get in the way of the relationship. Both are dealing with an internalized and some external conflict (mostly mickey) at the prospect of actually being together and Mickey wants to back out. I mean, technically Jake also had the internal conflict of his grief and sexuality preventing him from asking Brian out but that’s not the same. Mickey and Owen have already slept together, but emotional feelings haven’t really been talked about and i don’t think either of them are going to talk about it honestly bc owen doesn’t want to scare mick away and mick doesn’t think he deserves nice things. Book 1 and 2, the lovers decide they like each other and that they want to keep them fairly quickly. Nothing gets in their way or convinces them they should “let them go” or whatever despite things trying to get in their way like an ex or the moral dilemma of dating someone while undercover. Mick, on the other hand, is trying to push Owen away. While trying not to be a dick.

So many romance novel protagonists, when trying to push their loved one away, DO try and succeed in being a dick.

“It had been the most amazing kiss, and the worst thing that had ever happened to Owen. After it, he’d been sure of two things. The first was that Mickey had feelings for him too. The second was that Mickey never intended to kiss him again.” Just like what I said. This type of angst wasn’t in the previous books. It’s like book 1 and 2 were almost identical and then Sam Burns decided to spice it up a bit.

“Or the fact that I hate writing research papers, even though I like doing research.” BITCH FUCKING SAME!

THE ANGST. Dammit Brenden Quinn. Why’d you have to say “you’re the boss.” In front of your son! “Mickey was pretty sure his leg wasn’t what was in danger of getting broken in this mess.” AAAHHH. BRENDEN FUCK YOU. he did it on purpose! HE KNEW. Asshole.

Maybe he just noticed Mick staring longingly, not that Owen loved him back or that they’ve kissed/slept together? He’s still a major asshole, crushing the heart of a guy who is family to him.

What’s the point of being supportive of them being gay if you hate every guy they choose for themselves and are the reason behind almost every breakup?

Mick’s chosen to talk to keegan about his problems. Good but also. God he’s so bad at-Couldn’t have softened the blow a little? Jesus. Key already knew he’s supposed to be the new boss and key’s the best person to talk to about that but the Owen situation. Thank you keegan for giving me a satisfying hilarious response. And telling him what he needed to hear. Love that Keegan is basically like “WOW good for Owen!”

So keegan’s vote is 1) you don’t want to be the boss anyway (so i guess he’s telling him to tell Brendan no?) 2) totally cool with you dating my brother. He’s an adult and can make his own choices. Don’t break it off bc you feel like he deserves better or whatever other stupid exuses you have. I love Keegan.

“For a fraction of a second, there was something that resembled real sadness in the old man’s eyes, but it disappeared almost as soon as he saw it.” So you feel bad now?

“Owen frowned. He wasn’t sure why, but he wanted to get a rise out of her. He wanted her to be angry. It didn’t make sense. Did he want her to be angry with him, or Mickey? “I slept with him.” God, Owen and Mick are so alike.

So Litty’s saying that Mick’s not like his father’s other thugs so Owen shouldn’t be treating him like one? That he shouldn’t be mad at him for working for his father. I think he’s allowed to be a little mad though bc Mick hates it. He’s only doing it bc he feels like he has to, that he has no choice. But i guess Owen has to learn to be ok with the idea that he might be the boss and choose to not care, to love him anyway. The way Joe doesn’t care that Keegan used to be a gangster or that he loves his dad despite the crime. The way Alex chose to love Liam even if he was in the mafia even though he didn’t really have to go through that moral dilemma bc Liam was actually a cop.

“Owen had always thought Mickey was working for his father because he didn’t think he had another choice. Surely, if he was going to be the man in charge, he had to know that he had all the choice. He did. Right?”

Is he going to invite Mick to hawaii with him?

They are both so fucking insecure jesus christ. Especially Mick which is what’s causing all this mess.

Hey mickey? Maybe don’t kiss a boy after you tried to break off any kind of relationship you could have had with him? Mickey should be more considerate of Owen’s emotions. He knows Owen has loved him since he was a teenager and he keeps breaking this poor kid’s heart because he keeps convincing himself he’s not good enough for him while still being too tempted to completely pull away. “You can’t jerk me around like this. Make up your mind, dammit.” YEAH funicking tell him!

“I like people who aren’t afraid of me. Who tell me when I’m being a jackass.”

“You’re being a jackass.”

HAHA! Mickey actually says what he wants!

Ah shit they’re interrupted by the boss. Owen’s going to be so fucking mad when he finds out his dad has been encouraging Mick’s self loathing. Fucker.

Owen’s turn to talk to keegan.

So basically this book’s main conflict is Mick and Brendan’s self hatred. Hey Dudes! GET OVER YOURSELVES!

“And as long as Mickey was around their father every single day, there wasn’t a damn thing Owen could do to shake that hold, he was sure. The old man would call, Mickey would answer, and any progress Owen made would be lost.” So Owen is going to take him to hawaii? Oh. it’s more evil than that. He’s not inviting him. He’s going to trick him into thinking he’s in danger. And Keegan’s going to help.

So despite trying to pull them apart from each other, he can see his son wants mick still. That makes him more of an ass. LET your children BE HAPPY goddammit. No you don’t know what’s best for them. Stop trying to ruin shit for them.

“Going to take him to Europe and lose his passport so he can’t come back to work?” Owen scowled. That was actually kind of clever. He wondered if it would have worked.” pfft.

No, i’m still mad at his dad though. He knew how his son felt about Mick and about the business and encouraged Mick to go deeper into it and acts like it’s ineffable just bc he thinks Mick and him are alike. You told Mick with your own words that you think Owen deserves better. You shut Mick down before he could even ask to date your son. Don’t you think you’re taking part in making him feel unworthy, in making him feel like he can’t be reformed? You knew your son was never going to want anyone else and you still pushed them apart bc you thought you knew better. It’s understandable for Owen to not hate him but I’m going to hate him.

So even though his dad kind of approved of Owen trying to take Mick away and win him over, they’re still going with their plan to trick Mick instead of simply having his dad not force Mick to his side and actually start telling him nice things and start -i don’t know- Stop trying to keep his son away from what he wants. What’s with the talk of him possibly never going to be able to come back home?

Pfft. so literally all he had to do was leave at an odd time and that was enough to freak Mick out? HAHAHAHAHA. I mean everything else is pretty standard and Keegan actually tried to ease his worry by telling him he was going on vacation (which he is). I thought the plan was keegan was going to call pretending to be worried about Owen on his trip, maybe lie and say some russians were there. Nope. What he did was completely normal, he just left at an odd time and took all his favorite stuff on his trip with him (which is...normal?). The only thing off is that he didn’t tell anyone about it. (except he did tell keegan. keegan just didn’t mention that.) Mickey’s such a mother hen for owen. He should have been hired as Owen’s bodyguard. Lord knew, he needed one in school. He did get bullied.

Now i’m thinking of an au where Mick was hired as owen’s bodyguard instead of hired to do errands.

“...Brendan...was watching him with something like curiosity.” so brendon is finally seeing it? The love and care and worry Mick has for his son?

For the first time in his life, Mickey’s patience with Brendan Quinn ran out. “With all due respect, sir, don’t you think Owen is more important than any of that?”

“I didn’t say he wasn’t,” Brendan countered. “Are you telling me that he is to you? More important than your job? Your future?”

Brendan’s testing him. He wants him to put his son before his work. He’s being difficult on purpose. I can understand the “being difficult and disapproving to force their child’s lover to have to prove themselves worthy of their kid” trope but this is different. Brendon’s known Mick for most of his life and encouraged him to go into a path that he knew would taint him when he could have gotten him legitimate work. I feel like it’s unfair. Yeah, Mick needed to learn to tell the old man to fuck off and choose Owen above Brendan but i feel like Brendan was playing unfair.

The classic run to the airport because you realized you’re in love and you’re scared you’re never going to see them again.

I feel like i’m missing the point/not meeting the book where it’s at. The book is leading me somewhere but I’m not following it. I’ve felt it since that “heart to heart” between Owen and his dad. When his dad finally conceded a bit and encouraged Owen to go after what he wants. I’m still holding it against Brendan bc I feel like this conflict is all his fault. I blame Brendan for breaking his son’s heart by giving the empire to someone he knew his son was in love with, knowing how much his son hated the business. But the story is treating it like the conflict is mostly Mick’s fault, which, some of it is, but Mick might not feel as undeserving if it wasn’t for Brendan. If Brendan weren’t so fucking difficult to deal with, there wouldn’t be so much less conflict.

I wish Owen and Mick got to communicate with each other more. I don’t know how close this book is to ending but I’m going to leave this book disappointed if it ends soon bc these idiots spent most of it away from each other and didn’t talk about what they wanted enough. I mean, they had sex, then Mick pushed him away, then owen found out mick was the new boss, then owen avoided him for a while, then mick kissed him and told him what he wanted but owen couldn’t say anything back bc brendan called, then owen went on his trip and mick is following bc he loves him. I didn’t really get to see them spend time with each other that much.

You don’t give something to a poor kid who has never asked for anything in his life and then ask him for 10x more and expect him to not say yes to everything and only agree to what he wants too. Brendan talks about mick’s criminality like it’s who he is and not something brendan forced him to do. Mick never felt like he had a choice in the matter. Brendan built his empire from the ground up bc he wanted it. MICK DOESN’T WANT THIS. He is NOT Brendan! he feels sick to his stomach doing this work and only says yes to you cause you never let him know he could say no. i wanted brendan to feel guilty. Instead he’s probably going to die and the book is going to treat it like it’s all sad and i’m going to be PISSED. Bc you dont get to mold a kid into a criminal than hold that against him when he finally says he WANTS something.

The book is not looking at the full picture it painted. It’s not judging brendan for the choices he’s made. It’s not examining them. It’s not blaming him. It’s a dick move to ask so much from mick and then shut him down before he could even ask to date your son when he has never asked you for anything. And then hold stuff YOU MADE HIM DO against his character. WTF. he only ever asked for something once and you told him to his face that he didn’t deserve it.

Brendan better not die before Mick gets to say to his face that he never wanted any of this. That he only ever worked for him bc he felt like he owed him. That the only thing mick and brendan have in common is a love for family and loyalty and a love for Owen and Keegan.

It’s kind of frustrating the way Owen and Mick talk about Mick continuing to work for Brendan. He doesn’t want to keep working the business bc he actually enjoys it; He just doesn’t think he’s qualified to do anything else. He never got a chance to figure out what he wants to do with his life. He doesn’t like his job. Owen has to keep saying that he’s fine with Mick still working for his dad if he wants-owen isn’t going to force him to quit-but it’s just so frustrating bc this is with the assumption that Mick wants that.

Okay. i just needed to let out my anger. Let’s pretend brendan doesn’t exist or matter or has ever had any affect on the decisions made by mick.

“This was the trip Mickey had talked about taking for years, since he was a kid. And Owen was taking him—had tricked him into it” this is actually really sweet.

God he should have pulled the prank on him pretending he forgot the condoms. I could just imagine the reaction; it would have been so funny!

Since they’ve already been in love with each other before the book started the last words aren’t going to be their first i love you’s in the story like the previous books.

“We could be married. If you wanted.” They both froze. “Mickey?” Owen whispered. “Did you just half-assed ask me to marry you in a swimsuit shop?” “May-be?”

I can’t believe he said marry me before he said i love you.

“Fuck, O, I love you so much.” 7 pages after.

They get to spend a lot of time together thanks to this trip. It’s very cute.

He DOESN’T. He’s just a pessimistic ass who doesn’t say out loud how much he hates it and doesn’t think himself capable of doing anything else. The book’s solution is to have Mick working for Brendan’s legitimate construction company but I don’t think that’s a real answer? The REAL answer would be to give Mick a chance to figure out what he’s passionate about; to finally accept that he’s worthy of getting the things he wants and to not think so lowly of himself. He’s not a poor kid desperate for money and food anymore and hasn’t been for a long time. Plus Keegan and Owen would totally be ok with supporting him financially while he gets the qualifications to do what he wants. He needs to learn that he can ask for and accept help without having to pay anyone back. He’s allowed to want things.

It just feels weird that book 1 was about Alex, who quit law school and got disowned so that he could crash on his friend’s couch with nothing but the clothes on his back and his philosophy textbooks bc he reached for what he was actually passionate about and here we are, the last book in the series, and the topic of Mick trying to find something he’s passionate about isn’t even discussed or explored at all. This book’s conflict is more than just Mick wanting to be with Owen but feeling like he owes Brendan and needs to do what Brendan wants. Wanting to be with Owen but working as a criminal. It’s about Mick not being able to accept any act of kindness without feeling like he has to pay them back tenfold. It’s about him feeling like he’s not allowed to want for anything because he’s already been given more than he thinks he deserves.

yeah he’s accepting a ceo position for brendan’s construction company but does he want that? Or does he just want to work a legal job and he would

have accepted it no matter what it was (except working at Wilde’s bc that would be too easy). Is he accepting it without argument bc he feels like he can ask for this or bc Brendan’s just handing it to him and it’s no different than continuing to say yes to whatever Brendan wants-it’s just now he’s saying no to illegal stuff.

“Plus, if he’s halfway out, it’s not crushing his soul the same way, right?” It’s this shit right here! Mick never says he doesn’t want to work for Brendan bc it’s crushing his soul, because he hates killing, because he doesn’t WANT to, out loud. He says it’s because he doesn’t want to hurt Owen. “I don’t want Owen to get a visit saying I’m not coming home. I don’t want him to see my face all over the news if I get busted and put away. I want him to be happy.” That’s what he says when he’s asked why he wants to quit the business. And it’s really frustrating??? At least Brendan finally acknowledged that Mick and he are not the same, that Brendan would kill his best friend to reach a goal but Mick wouldn’t kill his. Except Mick would rather not kill anyone if he can avoid it.

Anyway we’re close to the end. We’ve got a wedding scene.

“She snorted and rolled her eyes in disgust.“Yeah, but they thought you were straight. So now they just think everybody’s bisexual, especially if they want it to be true.” gross.

“Poor thing was so embarrassed when he started leering at your brother that he apologized to me.” dude

“Holy hell,” Keegan whispered. “You’re really in love with my brother.”\Mickey peered up at him. Was he kidding? In fact, Keegan

looked completely sincere. “Um, duh? I better love him. We’re getting married in, like, five minutes.” asdfghjklkjhgfds

We get a domestic shopping scene and christmas. Mick is happy with the office job he has. And Owen’s still trying to figure out what to do with his degree since no fbi agency would accept him bc of his crime family. Based no that domestic shopping scene and “He didn’t even know who’d done the decorating in the Quinn house. Wilkes, probably. Whoever it was, they’d done a magnificent job.” this, Owen might become an interior decorator? With a criminal justice degree.

Mick to key about jon “You’re dating Mister Rogers.”

“Heh. Mickey’s husband.” same energy as “heh. Wife” - vespa ilkay

“Jon was unreasonably pleased with the personalized monogrammed handkerchiefs that Mickey bought him, and he even had a smile for Brendan when the man told him that his gift was that he hadn’t bought the fed “a damned thing.”

“Owen gave Keegan a copy of the Kama Sutra as a joke, and was horrified when Keegan gave him a satisfied smile, handed it back to him, and told him he already had one.” hold on. “The Kama Sutra is an ancient Indian Sanskrit text on sexuality, eroticism and emotional fulfillment in life. Attributed to Vātsyāyana, the Kama Sutra is neither exclusively nor predominantly a sex manual on sex positions, but written as a guide to the art of living well, the nature of love, finding a life partner, maintaining one's love life, and other aspects pertaining to pleasure-oriented faculties of human life” ok.

Mick never killed jimmy. He mentioned at the beginning of the book that he lied to the old man a lot. This is what he meant. Brendan would order someone dead and he’d find a way to not do that while still making it look like he did what the boss wanted.

Brendan died not from sickness but he got shot on the job. Died trying to do the right thing. Penny, the asshole who kidnapped Alex in the first book, is out of jail and is the new boss of the mafia crime business.

The Quinn family house gets turned into “The Brendan Quinn Shelter for Homeless LGBT Teens.” COOL!

Last words are I love you.

THE END

#long post #romanticsap #sam burns #saint and the sinner #mlm books #lgbt books #romance books #reaction #reviews #reading

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kiaracarera · 4 years

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loooong shameless rant ahead:

i have seen a LOT of debate on twitter regarding if shameless is homophobic for the way they have treated gallavich this season (btw i dont have twitter i just stalk the gallavich mentions lmfao) some people are saying shameless is homophobic, and some people are arguing saying they aren’t because gallavich is indeed getting their fair share of screentime.

however, it really shouldn’t even be argued with. people are pissed because of the way gallavich has been pushed to the side in favor of useless, offensive, meaningless storylines this season. and it’s not unnoticeable. not only have most of their scenes probably been cut in half, but whole scenes have been taken out of episodes, AND they both weren’t featured AT ALL in two episodes. mickey, however, was left out of THREE. have they done this with any other characters? no.

and ultimately homophobia and discrimination is a big issue. but putting that aside for a second, leaving gallavich out of episodes and cutting their scenes is just... not good for the show. it’s not good for the overall quality of the episodes and the characters’ development and their story. when they’re cutting whole scenes and even just small parts out of the scenes, they’re giving us the BARE MINIMUM. which makes everything feel cheap and surface-level and forced and fanservice-y. like, “yeah let’s show gallavich getting engaged but leave out the parts that show how in love they truly are. let’s just cut a kiss to two seconds that was actually supposed to parallel one of their BIGGEST MOMENTS from their ten year long story. yeah that sounds good. it should be enough.” like, no. it’s not enough. they KNOW how much ian and mickey mean to the fans. they KNEW the stakes and the expectations were high. they knew.

another point. cameron and noel have contributed so much to these characters and the relationship. there have been so many improvised moments from them because they CARE about the characters and WANT to add more to their story. and for the editors, producers, directors, whoever to cut the moments they add to the scenes is fucking rude and disrespectful to cam and noel’s dedication to these characters. literally, we never would have had the ENDGAME PRISON KISS, a moment that quickly became one of the most iconic gallavich moments, if it wasn’t for cam and noel. like, that wasn’t even in the script. again, because for whatever reason, the makers of shameless want to give us the BARE MINIMUM when it comes to gallavich.

if it’s not homophobia, then what the fuck is it? is it resentment towards the fans? is it laziness? is it purposefully wanting to lower the quality of the show? based on what we have heard from extras and people on set, they had the material to give us. but then they leave it out. why is that?

and this is not something only diehard people in the online fandom can notice. even my mom and my brother, who are casual watchers, or “locals”, have noticed the lack of screen time. when the gallavich kisses are cut off, my mom goes “that’s it? seriously?” EVEN PEOPLE WHO DON’T GO ON GALLAVICH TWITTER OR TUMBLR NOTICE IT. this is not something people are pulling out of their asses just to complain. it is in plain sight. when they cut ian and mickey out of multiple episodes and scenes in favor of storylines about a clogged toilet, garbage men, and someone WISHING THEY HAD BEEN RAPED JUST TO GET MONEY FROM SUING THE RAPIST... i’m sorry, but what is that, if not blatant homophobia?

so, no, people are not gonna stop complaining just because you feel that they aren’t being homophobic. just because you say “hey, they brought them back after all!!! be happy and grateful!!!” people will not change their minds on this. why should we be happy and grateful that a ten year long, beautiful, iconic, fan favorite GAY love story (that is bringing the show ratings and the most attention in articles and on social media) is being underutilized, underappreciated, and trashed by its creators? fuck that. gallavich deserves better. cam and noel deserve better. we. deserve. better.

#gallavich #shameless #gallavichdeservesbetter #shamelessishomophobic #long post #*#sorry for how long this is just. had to get that all off my chest #text

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copias-thrall · 4 years

Text

Why Not?

Mary and Suey need to use their words

(Start at the beginning)

*angst; face fucking*

Sometimes you wonder if Mary’s attraction to you stems from the fact that you had no idea who he was when the two of you met at Mickey’s. Sure, there’s some Venn Diagram-like overlap between your crowd and his—but your exploits and his had never touched. You have a few mutual friends-of-friends that everyone always seems to know—but no substantial connections.

Mary’s never made his past sexploits a secret—even if he’s demurred on the gritty details—so you know his other forays into relationships have mostly been from people already in his orbit from the neighborhood or from his “fan” pool.

Basically: all people who already knew his music.

It doesn’t keep you up at night, but occasionally—when there’s a prolonged, awkward silence, or the two of you get into a heated debate that proceeds slammed doors—you can’t help but wonder. It doesn’t help that Mary seems reticent to bring you to shows—big or small.

And, ok—maybe at first you didn’t really care: everyone and their sister knows a guy who’s “in a band” that never actualizes, and you two are oil and water on your best days, so why invest energy into a band you’re going to be compelled to dislike after the breakup? Once you guys had passed the 3mo mark, however, you knew you had to get serious about it if you wanted to be serious about Mary.

You would have thought it would’ve made Mary happy—you taking a marked interest in his first love—but he’d honestly seemed ambivalent about it. You talking about his songs and asking him questions only seemed to irritate him to no end … so you’d dropped it.

When he’d told you about another Saturday gig—that wasn’t closing Mickey’s—you’d once again offered to come … and he’d been a dick about it, prompting one of your worst fights to date.

“Why do you even wanna be there?” he’d huffed.

“I’m your fucking girlfriend,” you’d retorted.

“So you just want to piss on me and mark your territory, is that it?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, I thought I’d support your fucking passion is all.”

“You never cared before.”

“Oh—I’m sorry! Was I supposed to know everything that mattered to you two fucking seconds in?”

“I just think it’s fucking suspect that all of sudden you wanna be around.”

“So the other girlfriends are fine. It’s just me who’s a fame whore?”

“They’re all into the scene.”

“And what the fuck does that mean? I’m not a bandophile so I couldn’t possibly be interested?”

“It means I’m fucking done with that shit. The switching? The bed hopping? If that’s what you want, fucking tell me right now.”

“Where are you even getting this shit from?”

He’d looked you dead in the eyes.

“You have a reputation, Suey.

At first, you hadn’t even understood enough to be insulted.

“For fucking what? I barely follow the local music scene.”

“You think I didn’t ask around about you? The ‘Ice Queen’? Likes to fuck, but will eat you up and spit you out?”

You’d felt hot and cold all at once—your face flushing then draining of color.

“Are you fucking … are you fucking slut shaming me?!” you’d hissed as you’d jabbed a finger at him.

He hadn’t backed down. “I don’t think it’s unreasonable to wonder if a girl who’ll fuck anything that moves wouldn’t be looking to take her act elsewhere. The guys might dislike you, but you know they’d never pass up free pussy.”

You’d been trembling with anger at that point and scrubbing tears from your eyes.

“I’ve never … I’ve never hidden the fact that I like to fuck. I can’t believe you with your … your orgies and partner swapping have any fucking thing to say to me about my one-night stands.”

“How do I know you’re not using me for easy access, huh? I can barely even tell if you like me instead of my dick sometimes, and now all of sudden you’re interested in my band?”

You’d screamed and knocked a bowl off your counter, not even caring when the ceramic had shattered into shards.

“I’M SHOWING YOU I LIKE YOU BY BEING INTERESTED IN YOUR FUCKING BAND, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE.”

Then you’d grabbed a mug and thrown it in the ground for good measure. It hadn’t shattered, but the handle had broken off. Dissatisfied, you’d turned to your dish rack, but before you could start breaking dishes, Mary had had his arms wound around you.

“Hey, hey … it’s ok. Shh, c’mere.”

You’d screamed again and struggled against him.

“Fuck you!”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. Suey, calm down.”

Mary had managed to pick you up slightly, transferring you from the mess in the kitchen area to the living space, where he’d pulled you both down to the floor against the couch. You’d struggled some more, but only in an obligatory sense.

“Fuck. I’m sorry. Fuck,” Mary had breathed.

You’d only wailed in response, tears now flowing freely.

“I didn’t mean … fuck. I don’t think …” he’d babbled.

“You didn’t think,” you’d blubbered. “All those dudes, and you’re the one with a fucking drawer. How fucking dare you.”

Mary’s hold had tightened, but it wasn't to restrain you.

“Fuck, I know. I’m sorry. I just … it wouldn’t be the first time I thought some girl liked me, when all they wanted was to fuck the band. It’s a fucking sore spot, ok?”

“I’m supposed to be ok with you thinking I’ve been playing you?”

“I just fucking panicked, ok? I—I really fucking like you.”

“Don’t be gross.”

“Fuck off.”

You’d both chuckled.

“I just really fucking like you, and sometimes I just get too far into my own fucking head.”

You’d leaned back into his chest.

“You’re a fucking asshole and what you said was trashy. You said it to hurt me, and that’s not ok, Mary.”

He’d sighed and rested his forehead onto your shoulder.

“I just needed to hear you say it wasn’t true.”

“That’s still fucking insulting, but—” you’d tilted your head toward his, “Mary, I’m not dating you to fuck your bandmates. Now, fucking apologize.”

“I’m sorry I … that I was … my—”

“—that you were fucking cruel.”

“I’m sorry I was fucking cruel.”

“Thank you.”

The two of you had sat like that for a while until Mary had broken the silence.

“You scare me when you react like that.”

“I know,” you’d sighed. “I just … got overwhelmed. I’m … I am working on it, you know?”

“How?”

You’d curled a little into yourself.

“I do go to therapy, you know. It’s been—it is—a process.”

“K.”

“K?”

“Um, ‘ok, I acknowledge your effort and support it and won’t push as long as you’re getting help’?”

“Thanks.” You’d waited for a beat then had said, “Now you have to give me one. One personal thing.”

You’d waited patiently as Mary had considered.

“I was on my own at 19, so the guys are like my brothers—I love them, but they’re fucking annoying, and I hate them sometimes too. I’d give any one of them a kidney, but not my girl.”

You’d sighed. “I’m not going to fuck your brothers, Mare.”

“Yeah, I know. But thanks for saying.”

After that he’d helped you clean up the broken bowl. A week later you’d found your mug back in the cabinet—the handle was out of line with the break, but somehow still firmly secured back into place. You’d also stopped asking about attending his shows.

Thanksgiving came—he’d spent the day with his extended band family; you’d traveled out of state to spend it with your best friend—as you’d been doing since college. She knows a little about you and Mary, and you were happy to stay up drinking contraband wine with her on the trundle bed in her room as you’d scrolled through the handful of personal g-rated pictures you had.

It’s Saturday (your bus back home is at 6am the next day), and your bff and you are downtown just hanging out. You fucking love the energy of South Street, especially Crash Bang Boom, formally Zipperhead. One of the stops on your itinerary is a record store, and on a lark you go to see if Mary’s record is here. You know from one of Mary’s rants that they’ve been struggling to get wider distribution without a formal label, but that there’s a pretty good trade network amongst some of the indie places, and Philly isn’t so far away. You have to do more than a cursory search but!

It’s here!

You pull it out, intent on calling your friend over, when two guys who’d been browsing near you accost you.

“I hear they’re hot right now!” Boy 1 says.

“They used to be so hard to find,” says Boy 2.

You beam. “I know, right? They’re great.”

“You a big fan?” asks Boy 2.

What you mean to say is, I think their sound is very unique, but what you say when you open your mouth is, “I’m dating the lead guitarist.”

The two guys look at each other and snigger slightly.

“Yeah, ok,” says Boy 2.

You scrunch your face at them.

“I am.”

“Ok, maybe online you can peddle that crap, but c’mon,” says Boy 1.

You know not to feed the trolls … but these guys are kind of pissing you off. You tuck the DIY CD under your arm as you fish out your phone; it takes you a few seconds of poking, but you bring up the g-rated pics of you and Mary—most of which are slightly-blurry selfies. You think they’re endearing. Boy 1 and Boy 2 aren’t impressed.

“Are you serious?” sneers Boy 1. “These are clearly post-show selfies.”

“Fucking sad,” says Boy 2, shaking his head.

You’re at a loss because the majority of these are from your couch, so you toss your hair at them.

“Whatever. I don’t need a bunch of fake music boys to validate me. Krissy! Let’s bounce.”

You do end up buying the CD for her—which she promises to listen to in full and then report back.

When you get back to your place Sunday night—cranky and bleary-eyed—you’re surprised to find Mary asleep on your couch, cocooned in your afghan, even though it’s barely early evening. You divest yourself of your outside clothes and backpack before crawling over him.

“Mmph,” he grumbles.

“Hey,” you say, draped over him. “Why’re you on the couch?”

He manages to turn his head toward you slightly.

“You weren’t here.”

“Mare. You can sleep in my bed.”

He wiggles around so you’re both face to face.

“Yeah, I know. Wanted to know when you got back.”

“I still don’t see—”

He kisses you and manages to get his arms free to wrap around you.

“You’d’ve let me sleep if I was in your bed,” he says as he breaks the kiss.

“Yeah, maybe. Only because you’d need it.”

There’s some making out that begins to border on foreplay before your stomach rumbles unhappily. Mary laughs.

“You’re fucking great.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you grumble. “I think I last ate over 12hrs ago.”

Mary shifts to a sitting position. “I’m about to become your best friend.” He wiggles free and makes his way into your kitchen. You wrap the afghan around you as you shuffle after him. He beams at you before opening your fridge and doing his best impression of Vanna White. You peer in to see that there are multiple Tupperware containers jigsawed into your fridge.

“Oh!” you exclaim. “Is this …?”

Mary’s grin is almost a rictus.

“You don’t think I look out for my baby doll? Friendsgiving leftovers, just for you!”

You crowd into his space.

“I don’t know what I should eat first: this bounty or your dick!”

Mary wraps his arms around you, but says, “Lady’s choice.”

Despite how hungry you are, you drop to your knees—afghan pooling around you—and mouth at his zipper. He caresses your head and shoulders, but when he doesn’t insist, you take matters into your own hands; you pet at his semi before unzipping his jeans and taking out his cock and balls.

“You don’t—” he gasps even as his hands are cupped around the back of your head.

“Shut the fuck up,” you say right before you take the tip of him into your mouth to suckle.

Mary likes it fast and sloppy, but tonight you suck him at your own pace—one hand rolling his balls and giving sporadic presses to his perineum. He’s trembling and whimpering, his hands clenching and unclenching in your hair. After one particularly hard suck he cries out, “Oh fuck, please.”

You shuffle around so that your back is against a bottom cabinet, and you make a soft grunt so that he looks down at you. His lips are wet and his eyes are glazed as you widen your mouth and moan encouragingly at him. His hands grip into your hair as he begins to fuck your face.

“Oh shit, oh fuck,” he breathes. “So sweet. Your fucking mouth.”

Usually you do your best to deep throat Mary, but today he seems to sense not to choke you. He’s still fucking your mouth, though—thrusting as deep as he dares, undeterred by the saliva dripping down your chin.

“I fucking missed you—missed this.”

You make sure to lock your gaze with his.

“Fuck.”

You bring your hand back up to his balls.

“OhpleaseOhshitOhfuckOhplease,” he chants, eyes now closed.

You slap your cunt a few times before you slip a hand into your tights to work at your clit in time to Mary fucking your mouth.

“Oh fuck, yeah—that’s right. My cock makes you so hot.”

You let the hand fondling him fall away so you can brace yourself against the counter, and Mary starts fucking your mouth faster. He’s still staring down at you, but now he’s only chanting Fuck over and over again as he pummels your mouth. You think he’ll probably cum first, but it’s actually you—your own adept fingers pushing you over the edge—and it’s only after you moan in time that he shoves you down on his cock as it kicks and shoots its load down your throat.

He lets go of your hair well before you’d even consider tapping out, so you make sure you suck up and down the length of him before he grunts and pulls away from oversensitivity. He looks down at you with hooded eyes as you continue to gently massage your own climax out.

“You’re too fucking good to me,” he says as he recombobulates himself.

You’re just easing the waves of your orgasm at this point.

“So fucking make me a plate,” you purr, knees splayed as you continue to finger yourself.

Mary grunts at you as if he’d like nothing better than to squash you into the floor and fuck the shit out of you—but by the time you’re done massaging the throbs out of your clit and and standing up, he’s got the food containers out and is constructing your plate.

Mary feeds you from the full plate in his lap—quite a departure from the norm (you love feeding him at your feet)—and the two of your talk about your holiday. He tells you about their mashed potato food fight. You tell him all about Krissy’s drama—which mostly entails her parents thinking that her living at home means she’ll be a nun—but you offhandedly mention Boy 1 & Boy 2 in context of your day out.

Mary tenses.

“What?” you ask as you catch his eye. You’re not going to bring up seeing his band if you can help it.

“Nothing.”

“No, what?”

Mary sighs.

“You just. I hate that they didn’t believe you. You are my girl.”

You wriggle up and shrug.

“They’re not wrong. A few close up selfies don’t prove anything.”

“It still fucking sucks, and I hate it. Can we go to bed when you’re done?”

You snort. “You just want to snuggle.”

“So what if I fucking do? I brought you candied sweet potatoes at great cost to my life and limb. You owe me.”

You huff in laughter. “All right, dude. Fine. Let me brush my teeth and then we can … snuggle.”

“Damn straight.”

It’s maybe two weeks later when Mary’s on your couch watching the WWE, your feet in his lap as you play a game on your phone (no way was him being here is going to make you miss your chance at getting a high placing on this week’s special challenge). During the commercial break he plucks at your alumni sleep pants.

“Hey. Have you noticed you haven't worn anything nice in a while?” he says to your leg.

You look up at him over your phone, incredulous.

“Um, ok. First of all: rude. Second: Dude. Half your shirts are from high school and half of those are covered in blood. What the fuck.”

His hand sneaks under your pant leg to stroke at your calf. When you shy away—shaving a long-forgotten routine now that the weather has chilled—he firmly pulls you back to continue his exploration.

“Yeah. I don’t own anything nice—you have all these cute as fuck clothes just chilling on your curtain rod collecting dust.”

You heave a sigh.

“Well. You work most nights, Mary. You know I try to be here if you’re going to be around, and what?—I’m gonna dress up in my own home?”

He squeezes your calf muscle.

“Christ, you’re defensive. Let me fucking finish my lead in, woman. I just mean we should get out.”

You creep the foot of your free leg under his t-shirt to press into his boney ribs.

“Ok, but when? Your schedule’s not very conducive to that, you know.”

He looks at you, searching your face, before insinuating himself between your legs and rubbing his hands up your thighs.

“We’re playing at Regency in a few weeks,” he says as he leans down to kiss your belly. He looks up at you. “You could put on one those ‘fuck me’ numbers you got.”

Kiss.

“Come see me play.”

Kiss.

“I could fuck you in the bathroom.”

Kiss.

He takes the hem of your pants between his teeth and begins to tug it down.

“Mary! My ranking!”

“Fuck your ranking,” he says as he yoinks your phone out of your hand and shoves it down the front of his pants. You gasp as he yanks your bottoms the rest of the way free, and then proceeds to run his tongue through your folds. Your hands grip his hair tight as he worms his tongue around and over your clit, sparking your arousal. You let your head fall back, moaning, as he tongues you.

He breaks away suddenly. “So will you think about it?”

You look down at him through hazy vision. “Wha—what?”

“The show. Will you think about coming to it?”

The only thing you’re thinking about right now is his tongue back on you.

“Fuck. C’mon, Mary.”

“The. Gig,” he continues, before giving you one, long lap. “Wanna show you off,” he says, growling into your labia.

Christ he should make up his mind. As if it was your reticence from attending.

“Yeah!” you gasp, encouraging him, as you grind yourself into his waiting mouth. “Wanna be shown off!”

He yanks you down prone, hoisting your legs over his shoulders so he has better access to suck your clit between his plump lips. The sensation is heavenly, and you make pleased noises.

“Gonna show off my hot girlfriend,” he pants as he comes up for air. “Make everyone know you’re mine, rub it in their faces.”

You grab the back of his head and rub his face into your pussy.

“Shut the fuck up and get on with it for chrissake’s!”

He eats you out in earnest then—his tongue and lips adeptly coaxing you toward climax—the sound of the snarling wrestlers and cheering crowd the soundtrack to your orgasm; he licks you steadily as you squirm and thrash through it. Once you're thoroughly spent, he divests you of your top and crawls up your torso while unbuckling his jeans—your phone plopping onto your stomach and sliding down into the cushions.

“Hold your tits together,” he rumbles before thrusting between them a handful of times, head thrown back. Then he leans over you—guiding his cock to your mouth with his hips, before he’s fucking your face into the couch—unashamedly moaning when he hears you gag. He pulls out in time to cum all over your face and neck, hand flying between his legs—too intent with his art to even grunt out his pleasure.

Looking down at you, he bites his lip and says, “Fuck you’re beautiful. Can I take a picture?”

(This was something you’d gotten used to—Mary always wanting to take pictures of the oddest things with his ancient, digital HP camera.)

When you hesitate, he says, “No, you’re right. It’s …” He begins to climb off you, but you put a hand on his thigh.

“You … you can,” you stutter “but … I’ll keep it for you. Just … transfer it to me and delete it immediately.”

He rolls his eyes. “Big help you having it when I’m lonely and want to jerk off,” he says—but he's already off the couch, tucking himself back in, and rummaging through his worn backpack.

The two of you had done a little photoshoot then, trying to get the best angles, the best shine, your sexiest pout—and a few with his fingers in your mouth. When he’s satisfied, he hands you your shirt so you can wipe off—which you promptly rejected in favor of cleaning off in the bathroom sink (“Gross.” “What? I don’t understand.” “I wear this shirt!” “My jizz is literally on you right now!”).

When you come back out, Mary already has his memory card in the USB convertor and is attached to your laptop.

“Don’t I get to help choose?” you ask as you sit down next to him.

“My pictures.”

“My face!” you retort.

“My pictures for my use.”

You lean in to see which he’s chosen.

“Oh, not that one! I look like Jaba the Hutt with that chin!”

Mary squints at it, shrugs, then turns to grin at you.

“I won’t be looking at your chin.”

“Fine,” you grumble flopping back. “But I want my complaint filed on the record.”

“Ok,” he says and kisses the tip of your nose.

You push him away and wipe at your face. “Gross, Mary. Don’t be all mushy and shit.”

“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want, Suey,” he says into the computer.

When he finishes—4 photos now living in a folder on your desktop entitled “MarysSecretJackoffMaterial”—he lets you drive. You promptly drag all the smutty images of you into your trash and delete them immediately.

He has to leave for work not long after that, and you’ve gotten sucked into the WWE storyline. It isn’t until you’re ready to go to bed that you realize your phone is still in the depths of the couch. Once retrieved, you text him.

Me [12:37am]: Goddamnit, Mary! My RANKING.

Mary [2:28am]: XD

⬅️Previous | Next ➡️

#mary goore #ofc #feral cats fic #gutter punk #gritty girls #my writing

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mxtantrights · 4 years

Text

✹ 　 PART THREE (DAMSEL)

HAWKINS, INDIANA

OCTOBER 31, 1983

It's not just regular Thursday afternoon. No, this is no mere mortal Thursday. It's Halloween! One of the few times of the year where I feel a twinge of happiness. I mean, Christmas is cool and all but when will you ever hear a scream and think good things?

On halloween you will.

However-

This is halloween in Hawkins. It's never been done before and I have to set the bar. Well at least for myself. I wanna dress up for tonight and scare some kids. As I am growing older I have grown to realize that scaring the shit out of little kids can be funny on the one day that it's mandated.

"Jessie!" The teacher calls out.

I'm a bit startled but I remain still, and just glance her way. "Sorry."

"Jessie would you mind telling the class what has your attention besides the trail of tears?"

Yes. I really would mind. I really really would mind. I am so not into being called out. What kind of shit is that? So I'm dozing off in class, it's U.S. history, it's not being told correctly anyways. But I won't get mad. I don't like confrontation with- adults.

I'll just have to answer her.

"Uh.." I trail off and blow raspberries with my lips until I can think of something on the spot. "Halloween."

There are fits of chuckles in the back of the classroom. But that doesn't mean it was funny to my teacher, Ms.Sean. She dares to flash a fake smile at me and circle her desk for something. I see her reach for something- a paper, most likely. She picks up one and then walks it over to me, placing it on my desk.

"I don't think Halloween was on our latest quiz."

Uh-oh.

I look down to see the bright red F. Great. Just great. Well I can't bring this home. If my dad or my mom finds out about this they will tear my ass in two. I will not hear the end of it from them. They'll probably punish me.

I say nothing and just place the quiz under my folder.

Ms.Sean takes this as her cue to walk away.

"Maybe if she took more time studying than doing her hair she'd keep up." A scrawny voice from the back said.

The classroom erupted in 'ohs' and whispers. I turned around in my seat to look through the back to find out who said it. And sure enough, a girl with a turtle neck and the farrah fawcet hair to match is holding a particularly evil smirk.

And here we fucking go.

I wasn't gonna be mad. I really was just going to swallow any snarky comments, any comments at all. I was going to sit here like an amazing behaved teenager and take my punishment or public school call out.

But now, oh boy.

If I don't nip this in the butt now, it'll roll. Roll right into a snowball that follows me until I'm graduating senior year. Or at one of these dances, or the next class. I'm not gonna let this spiral. Dayton taught me better than that.

"I really like your costume Trina, but you might give someone a heart attack."

The class really loses it after that. Ms.Sean has to calm them down as I turn back in my seat. I don't need to see her dumb-struck face. That comment didn't rub me the right way, I've got to keep my eye on that one.

As the class chills out, I can see that Ms.Sean is trying to hide a smile on her lips. She clears her throat in another effort to hide it and it works.

"No more disruptions. Back to the lesson...."

I set my lunch bag down in front of Jonathan as he mumbles a quiet 'Hi'

"Hey, whats up?" I ask him

But he just shakes his head and shrugs. He bites into his sandwich.

It must be one of his moods.

For the two months and change that I've known him, Jonathan Byers has these days where he just shuts down. I don't know if anything is causing it or if it's just because he's like that. And I don't even know him well enough to pry into his business.

I just know enough to leave him alone.

"So I know you do this thing where you like to keep quiet or minimal, do you mind if I just talk a little bit?" It's very- blunt to say the least to ask him this, but he's like my only friend here. Besides Nancy but I don't talk with her much.

I watch him carefully as he nods his head.

"Okay so I was in history today and this girl made a snarky comment about my hair and my grades. And I wouldn't say anything back home, because you know back home I knew everyone and we were all on good terms. But I had to say something back." I rant a bit. Then I realize that he's actually becoming interested in what I'm talking about, so I hold off a bit.

"Well what did you say?" His mouth is still a bit full with food.

I smile and shrug, since I have brothers I'm used to the piggish behavior. "I told her that her costume might give someone a heart attack."

He goes back to nodding. Oh did he not get-

"She wasn't wearing a costume Jonathan."

He looks at me with wide eyes. And then he begins to laugh. And then I join in. Then we're both laughing. And it hits me that I don't see him laugh like this in this school. He doesn't do much here besides go to class, sulk, avert his gaze from others.

I've seen him laugh the few times I go to pick up my brother from one of the boy's houses.

I push off the thought when he holds his hand up to his chest to stop laughing.

"Ah man, what'd she say to that?"

"Nothing, Ms.Sean decided to resume class. Thankfully."

He nods, but this time he seems a little brighter. I guess thats what friends are for.

My hand digs into my lunch bag and takes out the sandwich I made myself this morning. There was no way I was letting either roof my parents make me something. They'd call a slice of cheese between two slices of bread a meal.

Dayton was the one who looked out for me in cases like this. We went to he same high school together. Sometimes he'd just pop up at my lunch table and swing his lunch over. Or he'd pack another sandwich for me.

I miss my brother.

Not surprising, but it's something.

I take another look at my friend to see if he's dozed off again, but he's not. He's looking dead ahead at something behind me. And the face he has on his face means that it can't be good. Slowly I turn in my seat to steal a glance.

It's the girl I replied to in class.

I watch her take a seat with her friends. And they are joined by Nancy. Nancy Wheeler.

I must've been staring too long because she- Nancy- looks over at me. I don't 'know what to do, to smile or to wave or to do nothing, to just turn back around. I do none and keep watching. In a few seconds the girl- my new nemesis? maybe- looks in my direction too.

And she does something alright.

She gives me the finger.

The doorbell rings and I run to get it.

I'm on door duty this year. Mickey is at Will's house. Him and the rest of the boys are playing D&D like usual. It feels like that's all he does nowadays. Not to take it away from him though, I'm glad he's got friends.

But with him gone so much, my parents are surely gonna be on me a bit more. Not with my grades though. I made sure to rip that up as soon as school ended and throw it away in a trashcan that wasn't mine. Kind of paranoid about it, yeah I know.

Anyways, tonights dinner was an indication of my parent's peek interest.

They asked me how I was doing, if I was making new friends, how my grades were doing. Then my mom asked about how the job was going. It wasn't really going though. Yes I went and got an application but I didn't submit it.

It's been sitting in my drawer for a few nights now.

If I take that job then I'm really not gonna have time for my music. There is no way I can get away with blasting the radio in my room and try gin to strum along to the songs after nine pm. I barely get away with it now.

And if I don't make time for my music, then I'm really just a nothing. I'm not doing too good in school because I want to make something out of myself with music. And If I don't practice that then I just won't be doing too good all around.

You know what's also not too good? Whoever's kid is at my door.

I look at the young boy who seems on the verge of crying. "Are you okay little man?"

He looks to me with those wide cartoon eyes. And it ties in with his costume, the kid from E.T. The kid's got the basket in his hands and I really do want to take a peek inside and made sure E.T. isn't actually in there.

"My alien needs candy to survive." He quips.

Laughing I grab the bucket from the table beside me and give him like five different kinds of chocolates. He deserved it.

The boy smiles, thanks me and begins running away.

I thought I was gonna scare kids this year. But my parents told me they don't want to be 'the bad house' on the block. I guess even adults deal with peer pressure and social hierarchies. What was I gonna do, disobey them?

To their face? No.

I'm already doing that with my grades.

I shut the door and head back to the dinning room. My parents are watching some old people movie on tv which leaves me all by my lonesome. Which I would like if it weren't Halloween. I thought my night would be more entertaining than this.

The phone from the kitchen starts ringing. And I'm running again.

I pick it up after the second ring. "Hello?"

"Jess? it's me."

"Dayton? isn't it like early there in Stanford?"

"Yeah-just, don't alert mom and dad alright. I didn't even mean to call-"

"Okay I won't, but why are you calling?" As soon as I ask him it's like the line foes dead. I sure thought it did because I begin beating on the receiver. "Hello?!"

"Keep your voice down alright!"

"The reason for your call brother o'mine?"

More silence from him, but I can hear him moving around. "I'm- no just forget it. I didn't mean to call."

"Well you did anyways, so that must mean something..." I trail off thinking he might just say what's on his mind but he doesn't. Which is weird since he's always talking, that's why he's going to law school. "I miss you."

He sighs on the other end.

"I miss you too dude."

"Okay, so then let's leave it at that. You miss me, that's why you called."

I can hear him a bit of movement and a short laugh. "Thanks."

"Goodnight, or early night or whatever."

"Goodnight Jessie."

#steve harrington x oc #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #DAMSEL #here is part 3 #i'm working on a master list as soon as possible #and also a schedule???#jeex

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loftec · 3 years

Note

Hi Loftec, I just wanted to say that new shameless episode and things they do with mickey's character are making me really anxious and sad, because I really care about this character, you know? It's overwhelming and stressful for me which may be silly and weird for some, but it is what it is. Shameless let us down so many times and I'm so stupid for still caring about what they do with mickey and believing that maybe, just MAYBE they'll do something nice and reasonable for once, it sucks. Right now the only thing that makes sense to me is fanfiction. Your fics never let me down and when I feel sad after watching this garbage I go reread some of your stuff just to remember that it does not have to be that way, because hey! what shameless does with mickey is irrevelant, and at the end of the day there are people who care about mickey just like me, understand his character better that shameless writers and will give him the ending he deserves. Sorry for telling you all that, what i wanted you to know is: please never stop writing, because right now shameless is implying that mickey is considering getting a blow job from another dude???? And it makes me so mad, it's so out of character, mickey is the most loyal person in this whole show and what they do with him makes no sense, anyway, I'm sorry for coming here and ranting, you can just ignore that. When you watch IxM scenes (because i doubt you will be able to watch the whole thing) please tell me what you think and whether you think it's ooc for them, again sorry for the long message. (p.s. I liked the hand holding when mick was in the bathtub tho, it was sweet)

Hello my friend, you’re welcome to come rant about this stuff in my inbox any time! It’s tough, I know. It feels like it shouldn’t maybe be this hurtful but then it is anyway. I can feel very self conscious when caring “too much” about a fictional thing, but I want to tell you that I only think it’s lovely when other people, like you have here, feel so much empathy and love for a character. I was so angry about Shameless five years ago and I still feel it sometimes, in my bones, but I think I learned to how to separate my view from canon and let it be what it is. I’ll continue writing and reading fic long after they’ve stopped making the show, so I guess I win...

I don’t know if this helps, and I’m sure you’ve read a bunch of meta for this scene already. But my interpretation (and what Noel clearly tried to act between the lines) of the monogamy conversation was that Mickey said whatever he thought he needed to say to not rock the boat. I think the question “you don’t want to be with other people, not even bjs?” (severely paraphrased, don’t come for me) was meant as “specifically you, Ian, don’t want to be with other people?” While Ian heard it as a non-specific “you”, as in, “isn’t monogamy a wild concept that is hard to grasp when you’re a young man with your whole life ahead of you?” They’re talking about the same thing (Ian’s desire to be monogamous) but Ian thinks they’re talking about their general, mutual, life-long view of monogamy.

I didn’t like this scene, but I definitely think that this is what they were going for. Mickey being insecure about Ian having cheated on him before, and Ian being a bit dense about it (the reason for which I could go on about forever, if I wanted to be charitable and suppose that the writers remember that far back).

I’m so sorry all this is making you anxious and sad! I absolutely get it, and I hope you can read and find support in fic for as long as you want it. I’ll be here, at least.

#Anonymous

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chlorue · 4 years

Text

here’s to never growing up

a little shameless fic to sooth your troubles.

Pairing: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich

Description: It was finally Franny's fifth birthday. What did Ian do? Spent two weeks planning it. The party is full of disapproving PTA moms and a new friend for Ian. Ian had spent weeks planning this party and he was damn well sure it was going to turn out well.

word count: 2,814

read on ao3

The sun was bright today. The rays shining on the Gallagher backyard. Ian was frantically running around the backyard making sure everything was in line for his niece's 5th birthday. The entire backyard was decked out in whatever leftover party decorations Ian could find in the basement. Small party tables with fun tablecloths were placed around. Balloons were everywhere. Ian found a pile of streamers in Carl's room and placed them on the stairs and tables. There was no necessary theme to the party, it was just Ian felt obligated to go all out. He had Lip get the cake, Liam to get the other food, Carl to get party favors that weren’t weed, and Mickey to keep Franny and Debbie away from the house. So far everything was looking up.

Ian was sitting on the steps looking at his phone waiting for someone to text him that something was wrong. He would look at his phone lock screen every few seconds, see nothing there, and put back down next to him. Finally his phone dinged. He rushed to pick it up. It was from a small group chat he put together.

the one who sold weed once

hey are we serving alcohol at this party????

the one with a son

Nah, half of us can’t even drink, recovering alcoholic and the lithium thing

the smart one

What about all the PTA moms?

the one with a son

They’ll just have to get over it.

Okay, can you all shut up? This is a five year olds party, we’ll be drinking the soda Liam

gets.

It seemed everyone got the message because they stopped texting. Ian sighed and leaned back. He tried to drown out the sound of buzz on the streets. Luckily Frank was nowhere to be found, he hadn’t been for the past few days. Something shocked Ian out of his small trance. There were voices that were familiar coming down the street. Ian stood up to see Tami with Fred on her and Lip a few paces behind her with a white box in his hands.

“Hey fuckwad!” Lip called when he spotted Ian. Tami swatted him, most likely for the language. “Sorry.” Lip apologized. Lip set the box on a table and pulled his little brother into a hug. Ian pulled away and patted Fred on the head.

“Thanks so much for getting this, you two are amazing!” Ian opened the box to see a rectangular pink cake that had swirly white writing. Happy Birthday Franny! It was perfect and Ian let a small weight off his shoulders.

“Eh, you just owe us for Fred’s 5th birthday.” Tami patted her son's head.

“I can do that.” Ian sighed and smiled. They both looked to be doing better. He had heard about the fight they got into at his wedding and was glad to see them back together. Lip had sent him too many pictures of the house and Fred.

The back door swung open, startling all three of them, revealing Carl and Liam. “What’s up whores!” Carl yelled. Lip, Tami, Ian, and Liam collectively sighed.

“We really need to have a talk about language in this family.” Tami sighed. Ian nodded and took a seat at the table. Liam and Carl made their way down with a lot of bags.

They set them on the table just in time for Mickey to stroll in. Liam started pulling bags of chips out and Lip told him where to put it. “Carl, are you just gonna stand there?” Ian cocked an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?” Carl asked and Ian groaned. Lip saw his brother's stress and took Carl away from the table. Tami took Liam and the rest of the bags away from the poor man.

Another presence slipped into the chair next to him and kissed his head. Mickey. Ian pulled his head up to see his husband. He smiled for a second before realizing. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh, comforting my stressed out husband?” Mickey smiled.

“Where is Franny? And Debbie?” Ian looked frantically around the backyard. The party wasn’t really a surprise. Ian had asked Debbie two weeks ago if he could plan it, but Ian didn’t expect to really take over his life. He really wanted to be special for the little girl. “You were supposed to be keeping them occupied!” He groaned.

“Calm down hotstuff, did you happen to look at the time?” Mickey cupped Ian’s face and made him face Mickey. Ian was confused, mad and shocked all at the same time. Once Mickey let him out of his hold Ian pulled his phone from his back pocket. The time read 1:45. The party was starting in 15 minutes.

“Fuck.” Ian sighed. Ian had been so focused on things going wrong he must’ve lost track of time. “I’m sorry, I’m just really stressed. I want her to like this.” Ian pulled his hands down his face and faced his husband.

“Dude, she’s 5, she got excited by my name tag yesterday, I think this will fill her to the brim with joy.” Mickey rubbed his shoulder. Ian felt better knowing Mickey was next to him. “Jesus you are tense.”

“Hey Ian!” Tami’s voice broke through the small silence. “People are arriving!”

“Let them in.” He called behind him. Tami gave a thumbs and went back inside. “Well, our backyard is about to be filled with every mom and her kid from Franny’s school, you ready?” Ian asked.

“Jesus, ready for the dirty looks at my hands? I’m used to it by now, so I guess.” Mickey kissed Ian’s cheek before getting up. “Just, uh, holler if you need help. Please don’t put any more stress on yourself.” Mickey smiled before stomping up the stairs. He was met with the first kid and mom. The mom smiled at him and he smiled back before moving into the house.

Ian sighed and got out of his chair. “Ian! So nice to see you!” The mom smiled as she approached Ian.

“Mary!” Ian faked a smile. Mary Lynn was a god damn bitch. She never liked Mickey or Ian. She would pretend to be nice to them and Franny only to go over to the other mom’s to talk about how horrible they were. Ian pretended not to care, but sometimes he would rant to Mickey about how much he wanted to punch her. “You look great!” No she didn’t. Ian was resisting the urge to pull her fake blonde hair off her head.

"Chelsea here is so excited to hang out with Franny! I can’t believe she’s turning five, they grow up so fast!” She gave the fakest laugh Ian had ever heard. Ian returned it.

“Yeah, we’re excited too!” Ian wanted so badly for this conversation to be over. “You can go ahead and find a seat, Franny will be out soon.” Ian gave one last fake smile and pulled his hand from her grip. He walked in the back door only to be met with six more PTA moms.

Today was gonna be a long day.

The party was in full swing now. Franny was running around and playing with her friends while their mothers sat at tables talking. Ian was leaning against the chain-link fence watching his niece run around with a big ass smile on her face.

Another presence took its place next to Ian. He turned to see the dark red hair of his little sister. “Hey, you really didn't have to do this, you know?” Debbie smiled.

“Eh, I didn’t have anything else to occupy my time,” Ian smiled and took a drink from his cup. Debbie patted his shoulder and sighed. “You know, you might want to mingle with the moms over there.”

“Oh, god no. I’d rather not inhale the cheap perfume up close.” Debbie laughed.

“Well them maybe you should go hang out with your daughter, I’m gonna head inside, see what other shit Carl has to drink.” Ian patted his sisters head before walking away. He made his way into the Gallagher kitchen to see the rest of the family scattered through. Liam was plastered by the punch bowls, Lip was by the pack and play with Fred, Carl was sitting on the table, and Mickey was leaning next to the fridge.

“Welcome back,” Carl said, not even looking up from his phone. “Drinks and food are over there, we will be serving cake in 40 minutes.” He deadpanned.

Ian pushed his head, forcing Carl to look up and smile. “Oh, hey man!”

Ian smiled and went over to the counter area, not before throwing his cup away. “Hey, are Kev and V coming?” He leaned over to Liam. He invited the neighbors not only because they were some of his best friends and they loved Franny, but for moral support and help as well.

“Yeah, they just had to close up the Alibi.” Liam sighed and continued to stir the punch. Ian ran his hair through his hair. Then a knock came from the door. “That must be them.” Liam said and turned around.

He was right. Veronica and Kevin were strolling in with Amy and Gemma racing in front of them. “What is up to my favorite people in the world!” Veronica exclaimed as she strutted into the kitchen. Kev waved to everyone, but his attention was clearly on the very eager girls who wanted to get outside and see their friends. “God, it has been way too long!"

“You were two nights ago.” Mickey said. Mickey was now over by the Pac-And-Play with Tami. V shushed and he went back to playing with Fred.

“So Ian, how are you holdin’ up. I know PTA moms can be a handful.” V sighed and placed herself next to Ian.

“I think I’ll be fine with you and Kev here. I texted Fiona earlier for a pep talk.”

“Damn Fi, she always gave some sort of pep talk, shitty or not. They fuckin’ worked.” V sighed and laughed.

“God, can parents please name their children something fucking normal. I swear I literally just met a kid named Neptune.” Lip groaned as he swung open the door. “Also Ian, some people want to talk to you.”

Ian groaned. V gave his hand a squeeze and he took a deep breath. Time to venture back into the unknown.

Ian had been outside for about an hour. Turns out what the mothers wanted to talk to him about was alcohol. Whether he was serving it? Where was it stored in the house with the kids? Ian finally got away from it all. He was sitting in a lawn chair in the shade watching Mickey play with Franny.

“Hey do you mind if I sit?” Ian looked up to see a mom he had never really seen before. She was tall and had blonde hair, like most of them. But this blonde looked real. It was in a high ponytail. Her eyes were blue and her makeup was pretty and subtle. She wore a pink bomber jacket, white undershirt and gray pants.

“Oh, yeah sure, go ahead.” Ian smiled and pointed to the chair next to him.

“Thanks, I was getting tired of listening to Jennifer go on about her failing marriage, and you looked lonely.” The woman smiled.

“Did she tell you the reason it’s failing?”

“No, what is it? Something juicy?”

“Nah, he won’t let her drink more than three tequila shots.”

“That doesn’t seem that bad.”

“ A night. ” Ian smirked and the woman laughed. “I’m Ian by the way.” He held his hand out.

“Amara.” She shook his hand. “This is a really nice party, did you plan it all by yourself?”

“Eh, only a little bit. It’s not like it took up my life for about two weeks.” Ian smiled. Amara laughed. She seemed different from the rest of the moms there. She was fit, like really fit, she seemed a tiny bit dorky, but she was nicer than any of the other moms.

“Tell me about it. When my son turned 4 we held this “small” gathering that ended up turning into a whole block party!” Amara laughed.

“Wow, I feel like that happened when I was like 12. Gallaghers knew and know how to party.” Ian smiled.

“You haven’t seen the chaos that is my company.” Amara smiled. “I’m surprised you aren’t serving alcohol today, PTA moms and all.”

“Oh, basically none of us in this family can drink anymore, other than my little brother and my deadbeat father.” Ian sighed. “My older brother and sister are recovering alcoholics and I can’t drink on my meds. It fucks with my lithium.” Ian takes a swig of the Pepsi in his hands.

“Oh, that sucks. But that’s the South Side for you.” Amara sighed. “My wife and I may have moved to the North Side, but we won't forget the weirdos here.”

“Wait, you’re gay? And South Side?” Ian was now even more interested in this Amara. She was gay. No wonder she was so different then the rest of the moms. And she was raised on the south side. She definitely did not look like it.

“Oh, hell yeah! Most of my company is a part of the LGBT community. And yes, born and raised in a foster home here. That is how I met my wife, Callie. She’s over there playing with our son.” She pointed to a woman with dark skin and brown pixie cut. She was playing with a small boy who looked to be about the same age as Fran.

“Very pretty. My husband and I are born and raised as well. In and out of foster and group homes, though.” Ian smiled.

“You’re gay? No wonder the moms despise and love you.” Amara laughed. “Who’s your husband?”

“Him.” He pointed to Mickey who was now swinging Franny around.

“Oh, is he the one the moms are mad at because of his tattoos?” Amara asked and Ian nodded. “I bet they’re fucking dope, my friend did one of my favorite tattoos.” She pulled her sleeve to expose her wrist. On it was what looked like a heart, but it looked like it belonged to a robot. “I have two more, but they’re on my back.”

“I only have two. One is a military thing, and the other is a set of boobs.” Ian sighed at the memory of the failed tattoo.

“Dope!” Amara beamed and they both laughed. “But why boobs?”

“It was supposed to be a memory of my mother, but it went wrong.” Ian smiled.

“Does your husband have any others, other than the knuckle tats?”

“He has one on his forearm, long story. And my name above his heart.” Ian looked back over at his husband. He was laughing and dancing with Franny. Amara cooed and smiled. “Yeah, he did spell my last name wrong.” He looked over to Amara. She sighed and hung her head back.

Suddenly Franny was in front of them. “Uncle Ian! Let’s do the cake. Pwease?” She gave Ina her best puppy dog eyes. Ian laughed and stood up, hoisting her up.

“You comin?” Ian looked at Amara. She smiled and hoisted herself up, tightening her ponytail.

Everything had settled down by 9 PM. Franny was asleep, Lip and Tami left, Liam was downstairs watching TV and Carl was doing who the fuck knows in his room. Ian came into the room from the bathroom to see his husband leaning against the headboard scrolling on his phone. “Well you are a sight for sore eyes.” Ian said leaning against the doorway. Mickey shot his finger up and Ian laughed. He crawled onto the bed and rested himself right next to Mickey.

“Hey, who were you talking to today? The blonde chick?” Mickey started to play with Ian’s hair.

“Don’t get jealous, she has a wife. And her name is Amara, and she is one of the most cool PTA moms I have ever met. She’s South Side too, her and her wife.” Ian smiled at his husband. Mickey looked slightly amused.

“You know, it was really amazing that you did this for Franny, lord know both of us didn’t get the luxury of this.” Mickey sighed.

“Fiona tried her hardest, but I got sick on my 5th birthday.”

“When are you not sick, honestly?” Ian laughed at Mickey’s comment. Mickey smelled nice. A mix of cigarette smoke and soap. It was a smell that reminded Ian of where his home was. He wanted to move out and get a cat and kid with Mickey, but that was a problem for future Mickey and Ian. Ian was focused on Mickey, not realizing that he was slowly falling asleep. He drifted off, but not before pulling Mickey down with him.

“Thank you.”

#shameless #shameless fic #shameless us #gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #my fic #my wriitng #all mistakes are my own #mickey and ian #amara and callie may or may not be based off adora and catra

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