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acourtofswiftiesandshadowdaddies · 4 months

Note

Listen- I had an idea. I was thinking about a Lucien Vanserra and the reader feeking the bond snap? But Lucien feeling like he's not worthy of her but she tells him how pretty his eyes are? Even with the scar? I was thinking of adding the prompt 32 angst and 12 fluff maybe.

Scars and All

Lucien x Archeron!reader, Helion x reader (father, daughter dynamic)

Warnings: angst, swearing, fluff

Prompts: Fluff- “I wish you could see the way I see you,” Angst- “You… why did it have to be you?”

Summary: The youngest Archeron sister has always been ignored and rejected by everyone. When she finally finds her mate in the Day Court who thought her heart could’ve broken more at the rejection of someone who was made to love her?

a/n i legit could not find any good headers for this so i downloaded 6 billion of them from pinterest, my sister had made this dress for herself and i had direct access to it thats why the description is so long 😭 im trying a new thing with describing facial features and stuff like that more lmk if u like it or not. ✨ not edited ✨

There was a ball in Day Court, almost all high fae were invited, and as the sister in law to the High Lord of Night Court it was compulsory for all of us to be there.

The dress I'm wearing is a masterpiece of intricacy and elegance, designed to captivate and command attention. Crafted from the finest materials, it combines delicate silk and ethereal lace, creating a harmonious blend of softness and sensuality. The color chosen is a rich midnight blue, reminiscent of the starry night sky that blankets the Night Court.

The bodice of the dress is a work of art, adorned with intricate silver and sapphire beadwork that accentuates the curves of the wearer. It plunges low, revealing a hint of the wearer's décolletage, while thin, delicate straps grace the shoulders, adding a touch of allure. The back of the dress dips in a graceful V, teasing a glimpse of smooth, exposed skin.

From the waist, the dress cascades into a flowing skirt, made of layers of diaphanous silk that sways with every step. The fabric is sheer and airy, allowing a tantalizing view of the wearer's legs as she moves, creating an alluring dance between modesty and seduction. The hemline is asymmetrical, with delicate lace trim that adds a touch of whimsy and femininity.

As I move, the dress catches the light, shimmering and sparkling like a constellation in the moonlit sky. It exudes an air of confidence and sophistication, empowering the woman who wears it to embrace her inner strength and beauty.

The dress wasn't my first choice though. My first choice was an indigo dress with a sweetheart neckline, that showed just enough of my cleavage to not be named as slutty. It had a slit that showed my whole right leg, but Elain had liked that dress after she saw it in my wardrobe, so I gave it to her.

She always got what she wanted.

I wasn't a type of feminine beauty like my sisters. They all had graceful features and beautiful dainty blonde hair. Nesta and I were the most similar with our sharp features.

But that's where the similarities ended.

My hair was a lustrous cascade of ebony strands, shimmered like a moonless night sky, reflecting an ethereal sheen with every subtle movement. Its glossy surface captured the light, revealing depths of darkness that held an irresistible allure.

Once I had slipped my heels on, I headed down the stairs where everyone else was waiting for me. My lips curved into a sly smile when everyone's attention was on me, glancing over the room, my eyes stopped at Elain. Her dress (my dress) was falling at all the wrong places.

She wasn't as curvy as me, Nesta and Feyre. I don't get why she would want the dress, it's obviously not fitting her properly. Ignoring Elain's incessant huffing, I head to Nesta and Cassian.

“You look absolutely breathtaking tonight, sister,” I compliment, giggling.

“I love this dress on you,” she gushes.

Nesta was my best friend, my confidant, the sister who cared for me.

“But I would’ve loved to have seen the other dress on you,” she continues. “You shouldn’t have given it to Elain,”.

“Oh it’s fine, look at the absolute beauty I have found instead,” I reassure.

“Elain are you sure you don’t want to change your dress,” Feyre asks.

Nesta and I snicker behind our hands, Elain turns around towards us and I watch in glee as her faces turns into a scowl.

“I’m fine can we leave already” she snaps.

Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.

Cassian winnows Nesta, Rhysand and Feyre, Azriel and Elain, while Mor winnows me.

Landing outside the day court palace, I mentally take in the beauty of the place. The sandy blocks making the palace and the beautiful candles hung at every corner. There truly is no darkness.

I look down at my dress, skepticism glazes over my face. I shouldn’t have worn such an eye catching dress.

How was I meant to know that there would be lights everywhere?

Cauldron fucking boil me.

After some mindless chatter with Feyre about how excited she is to show me her paintings. We’re escorted inside to see the High Lord of the Day Court lounging on his throne, looking like the childish playboy he is. Even though he was centuries old.

His beauty was otherworldly, the way his onyx locks cascaded down his back like they were paid to do so. Piercing amber orbs stared down at everyone. Clad in only a white fabric that was draped over him, he had an easy going presence to him. The sharp points of his golden crown glinting under the bright lights.

But the vision next to him put the Night Court stars to a shame. He was the sun personified. Tan skin, lighter than his father’s but darker than mine. Auburn red hair, similar to his father’s in length, rested along his back. A scar ran from just above his eyebrow to his jaw. His eyes met mine, maroon and golden. His features picked apart weren’t attractive but somehow together on him, he looked like a god.

My breath caught in my throat as my eyes blurred in and out of focus. Once they went back to normal I saw a single golden thread tugging. My eyes followed the thread back to Lucien.

I ran outside. Mother’s tits, I found my mate.

I gave an experimental tug on the bond revelling in the feeling of being complete. Tugging on it again, I let him know I wanted to see him.

Sitting there on the roof, I waited for five minutes, then ten, soon twenty and as quickly as my hope had been born it had faded away. But still remnants of it remained, maybe he couldn’t get away so soon, after all he was the heir to the Day Court.

Holy shit, he was the heir to the Day Court, what if he wanted nothing to do with me?

My thoughts spiralled one after the other.

A throat cleared behind me. Turning around to look at Lucien, I beckon him over.

“I’m Y/N, I already know who you are so introductions won’t be necessary” My attempt at a joke fails.

Finally taking a closer look at his face, I take in the pained expression. “Are you all right?” concern laces my voice, I stand up and whisper, “Have you had enough to eat you look like you’re about to pass out,”.

I’m about to leave and grab him some food, when he speaks, “You… why did it have to be you?”.

I freeze in place, I don’t dare to turn around. My mind flashes with memories of Feyre not wanting to teach me archery because she was busy, or how the boys at Rita’s never even looked at me, or how Elain took it upon herself to make me hate everything about me, or how everyone had their other half and I had just found mine. But not even a full hour of knowing me he hated me.

And somehow after all those years of rejection, self hatred and jealousy my heart broke one last time.

I assume he could feel it through the bond, as I wasn’t all that used to blocking people out of my mind yet.

I run down the stairs to get off the roof, to get as far away from him as possible.

Finally, finding an unoccupied balcony on the opposite side of the palace, I settled there, sobbing my broken heart out. The kohl from my eyes streaming down my face. My fingers red from rubbing my stinging eyes.

I looked around at the material of the dress pillowing around me. Such a waste of such a breathtaking dress.

Soft crying filled the room, my ears were ringing as I hadn’t heard the High Lord of Day Court enter.

“My dear, may I ask what’s wrong?” He asked, worry evident in his voice.

Gasping I stood up and did a sorry excuse of a curtesy, “High Lord” I bowed my head.

“Helion is fine,”

He sat down right next to the place where I was sitting. His muscled arm gently tapped the spot beside him as an invitation.

I sit down, smoothing my skirts out.

As if he can sense the awkwardness he clears his throat and says “We can stay quiet or we can talk about my son or your mate?”.

My eyes widen in shock. “How do you know me?” I mutter out.

“Sunshine I’m the High Lord of Day Court and unbeknownst to you, Rhysand talks a lot about you during meetings so most of the high lords consider you a little sister, but for me you’re like the daughter I never had,” he confesses.

A man I had not met before today, considered me his daughter, and six other high lords think of me as a little sister. My eyes well up in tears, my father had been one of the only people other than Nesta to ever truely care about me. And I had cried for months when he died.

To have someone think of me as their daughter again brought out a fresh wave of tears.

As if reflex, my head rests against Helion’s shoulder, we gaze into the night sky, in a comfortable silence. A strong hand reaches out and softly taps my head in a soothing rhythm.

“It’s ok sunshine.” he whispers.

After a while my tears stain my cheeks, Helion speaks up “I think you should give your mate another chance, I think you’ve mistaken his intentions,”.

Taking in his advice, I wordlessly stand up and hug the high lord. “Thank you” I breathe out.

Pulling away, I walk through corridors in search of Lucien.

A hand grabs mine and pulls me into a dark corner, while another hand muffles my screams.

I’m about to put the training Cassian gave me into use when I see a familiar pair of mismatched eyes.

“You can’t scream, I just wanted to talk to you,” he pleaded. Once his hand reluctantly leaves my mouth, I nod as a signal for him to keep going.

“When I said what I said before, I didn’t mean it as if you weren’t good enough for me,” he started. “I meant it as I didn’t think I was good enough for you.” My eyes soften at his words. “I mean yes I am devastatingly handsome,” I roll my eyes at his smug words, unable to hide my own smile when his lips twitch upwards.

“But I don’t think I could ever be good enough for you, a thousand lifetimes over,” he whispers, impossibly close to me but at the same time painfully far away.

“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you, Lucien,” I mumble cupping his cheek. “Please have me,” he murmurs.

I grab his face gently and fuse our lips together.

“I’m yours, if you’re mine,”

a/n i’m sorry girl dad!helion is just too good to resist and like imagine being like a little sister to all the high lords (instead of heron it’d be eris), hope you like it anon 🫶🏻

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crash-cinematic-universe · 3 years

Text

tiger lilies, self destructing, and richard siken

pairing: peter maximoff/reader

summary: to peter maximoff, love is an anomaly that scares him more than anything else. however, you might be able to help him overcome his fear.

warnings: language! but that’s about it. kind of cheesy at some points but yknow what im not lactose intolerant

notes: this is the monsterous fic thats been kicking my ass this past week (6.2k words babey!!!) i was originally going to add ~~steamy~~ section to this one but i decided against it to make it readable for those who don’t wanna see that kind of stuff. if you want me to separately publish that then just lmk!! (if any of yall wanna talk about richard siken to me then please do, his work is so good)

taglist: @stranger-names , @gooseyhouse , @parkersdarling

To Peter Maximoff, physical affection has always been a touchy subject-- no pun intended. His speed is a blessing, but also a bitter curse. He moves at the speed of sound, bouncing off the walls and tearing up the roads; he moves impossibly fast, and no one ever tries to catch up with him. People get tired of Peter rather quickly, not bothering to get attached to him when they know they can’t keep up.

That’s why it’s so jarringly startling when you decide to stick around. When faced with the grand decision of throwing in the towel and leaving Peter behind or sticking around and trying your best, you chose the latter. It was surprising, to say the least. Peter waited patiently for the distance between the two of you to start growing; he waited for the void you once filled to open up again. However, the void never emptied, and the distance never grew.

To anyone else, this would be a wonderful experience. Knowing that you wouldn’t be left behind or forgotten about would be comforting to anyone else in Peter’s position. However, this did the exact opposite for Peter. He wasn’t comforted or relaxed, on the contrary, he was always on edge. The future was cruel, and the mystery of it all felt like torture.

To quote the great Richard Silken, “Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” Peter lived and breathed by this ideology, that everyone he loves would have to leave eventually, whether it be by their own volition or not. It was obvious that you didn’t plan on abandoning ship anytime soon, so Peter decided he’d take matters into his own hands. If you weren’t going to be the first one to walk away, then he’d be the one to run away from you. He soon came to learn that loneliness was at its most bitter when you’ve come to taste the sweetness of love.

Love was a strange, complicated beast that Peter Maximoff had never dealt with before. If he were to be completely honest, love scared him. It scared him more than dying scared him. To Peter, death was an escape. Death was the end of a tiring journey, it was safe and simple and easy. Love was the opposite, it was the mouth of a dragon and the edge of a blade. It was the beginning to something so fragile and powerful, something that could end in flames.

Peter realized he loved you on a summer afternoon. The sun was shining and you were in the shade. He sat down next to you, and within minutes Kurt and Ororo appeared at your side. They seemed so put together, so sure and strong. Peter felt out of place-- he felt as if he were standing outside of a cabin looking in through the window at your wonderful friendships. He watched with his nose pressed against the glass as you walked across the room and opened the cabin door to let him in.

Peter realized he was in love with you in the middle of the night. A thunderstorm raged outside the mansion walls and raindrops kept time as Peter walked down the hallway. You were sitting on the floor of the common room next to a dying fire, a book clenched tightly in your hands. For a moment, he just stood against a wall and watched you. As creepy as he felt, a part of him believed he’d ruin your night by making himself known. He was okay with being a fly on the wall if it meant he’d get to see you. Peter wondered if there was a world where he had the pleasure of knowing you, without you having the burden of knowing him.

Still, you saw him. And you knew him. And you waved him over with a smile. He felt the urge to run, to leave you here alone with yourself, but he stayed put. Then, one step at a time, he moved forward. He got closer and closer before he found himself standing at your feet.

“You’re welcome to stay,” you told him. He believed it. Peter sat down next to you, letting his shoulder brush against yours.

“What’re you reading?” He asked. Peter already knew what you were reading, he read the cover of the book the moment he sat down, but he still wanted to hear it from you.

“Crush by Richard Siken,”

“Oh. What’s it about?” Peter already knew what it was about. He’d read it at least fifty times.

“It’s kind of hard to explain. I’d much rather just read it to you and let you decide for yourself,” Peter’s stupid little heart lurched, and he almost cried at the thought. He held it together, though.

“That would be nice,” He said softly.

“Sorry about all the writing in the margins, I can’t help myself sometimes.” Peter scanned the sides of the pages, marveling at your notes. Some of them were reactions, littered with exclamation points and question marks and bold letters. Some of them were underlined phrases and little doodles-- most notably a little drawing of a chameleon on a tiger lily. He loved them.

“It’s okay. Literature is meant to be marked up-- what’s the point of reading if you don’t get to share the love?”

“That’s a good point,” You grinned. Then, the reading began, and you allowed Peter to rest his head on your shoulder as you read to him. Even though he’d heard the poems a billion times by now, they sounded brand new coming from you. He listened closely. You were arriving at his favorite part, “You are Jeff” section 24.

“You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you...” You read on, not noticing the way Peter’s eyes had shifted from the book you were holding to your face. Peter’s mind wanders, and he curses himself for missing the lines you were reading “... You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for.”

Peter felt like he was going to cry. You kept reading and he kept looking. It was getting late, and Peter was getting tired. Your voice had softened and slowed, and the fire that was burning in the fireplace had all but died. Peter was the one that fell asleep first, and you followed closely after. Both of you had lingering smiles on your faces.

Intimacy is an odd thing, isn’t it? Thinking critically, intimacy is just vulnerability with more layers. It’s the closeness between people, it’s allowing yourself to connect with someone you care about. It’s stripping yourself down to muscle and bone and hoping the other person doesn’t let you bleed out. It’s a level of trust that is more than closing your eyes and falling backwards; it’s closing your eyes and letting them push you over the edge into the unknown, and trusting them enough to know you’ll be okay when you hit the ground.

It didn’t take long for Peter to realize that he had trouble with being intimate with other people. Too many times had trusted someone to push him over the edge, only to realize he’d be shattered when he hits the ground. After that, he decided intimacy was overrated. It’s not like anyone was going to have that kind of relationship with him, anyway.

Of course, then you came along and uprooted his entire worldview, like you had with everything else. He found himself thinking about you at every waking moment, which inevitably led to him… thinking about you at every waking moment, if you catch my drift. Sure, intimacy involves more than just physical intimacy, but Peter knows he can’t ignore the feeling that rises in his stomach whenever he’s around you. For the first year or so of your relationship, Peter became very familiar with the feeling of an ice-cold shower.

What Peter didn’t take into consideration was you. For some reason, Peter struggled to understand the fact that you were just as attracted to him as he was attracted to you. It was no secret that Peter was insecure, but he never really realized how much his insecurity affected his relationships. If he couldn’t love himself, how could anyone else? Peter is the only one who gets to see his persona in its truest form, and every time he has to avert his eyes. It’s safe to say his physical appearance has been the cause of very many painful-- and occasionally tear-filled-- sleepless nights.

He told you this. He told you everything. He told you about Erik, he told you about his childhood, he told you about everything he loved and hated and feared and yearned for. That ordeal alone was scary enough, knowing that at any moment you could decide you didn’t want to deal with him anymore, but as always, you stuck around. You told him everything. You told him about your family and your struggles. You told him about everything you loved and hated and feared and yearned for, and not once did Peter even think that he wanted to walk away. This is the kind of intimacy that, over the years, Peter had struggled with less and less.

Still, it was the sexual aspect of intimacy that freaked him out. It was a beast he’d never dealt with, a feat he’d never faced. That being said, as every day went by Peter became more and more… frustrated. He didn’t know how to approach the subject, so he'd just let the subject approach him and wing it.

And as he sat on his bed watching as you twirled around to Tears for Fears “Everybody Wants To Rule The World”, Peter realized he didn’t have much to worry about.

“Dance with me, dollface,” you laughed, reaching out for him. You looked like someone straight out of a movie, the lim blue light coming from Peter’s arcade machines illuminating a halo above your head. You put Molly Ringwald and Emilio Estevez to shame. Peter took your hand, grinning like an idiot as you twirled him around.

There he was, dancing in his mother’s basement with his favorite person in the entire world. He wasn’t a great dancer, and neither were you, but that didn’t matter. Peter was dreading this visit-- he hated the idea of being back in the basement that made him feel like a failure. But you assured him that you’d be there with him, and that getting to see his family would make it all worth it. His family isn’t what made it worth it, though.

“Brain Damage” by Pink Floyd came next, slower and a bit more somber, but still danceable. Your arms shifted to around his neck, pulling him closer than he already was. Somehow, you ended up with your back against the wall as the song came to a close. He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips.

“I love you,” Peter spoke softly. This was a small victory-- he’d been so scared of the mere idea of loving someone. You were the only one who got to hear his love confessions. They were for you, and for you only.

“I love you too,” Peter would never, ever get tired of hearing that. Knowing that you love him is enough to keep him going for a hundred years. And he knows the odds, he knows that love is rocky and painful as much as it is beautiful. He knows that love can feel sweet in the beginning and go sour overtime. He knows that first, second, third relationships don’t always work out. But he thinks this is going to work out. And Peter doesn’t think this will ever go sour. Maybe that’s his blissful ignorance talking, maybe he’s jinxing it, but at this moment, he doesn’t care. Right now he is at his happiest, at his most content.

“You wanna watch a movie?” You asked softly, pecking Peter on the cheek. He could feel the warmth radiating off of you, and Peter grinned. In an instant the tv across the room began playing the opening credits to the first movie that popped into his head.

“The Breakfast Club?” You questioned. Peter shrugged.

“What can I say, I’m a sucker for a good coming-of-age kind of movie,”

You sat against the headboard of Peter’s bed, allowing Peter to settle beside you. Your head rested on his shoulder, and he was quick to grab your hand. Peter loved the closeness. Over the past year, he’d come to realize he was a very affectionate person. Previously, Peter hadn’t known soft, physical love; the only time anyone would ever touch him would be as punishment or defense, not love. Love. Peter had gotten more comfortable with the idea of love, because when he thinks of love he thinks of you.

Every good story has a villain. A villain that you love to hate, or hate to love. A villain you can sympathize with, a villain you can’t excuse, a villain that the mere mention of makes you sick to your stomach. An unexpected villain. An obvious villain. A villain that’s just trying his goddamn best. Sometimes the villain is defeated, sometimes the villain changes their evil ways. Sometimes the villain dies and the crowd cheers.

Peter Maximoff never thought he’d be the villain of his own story. He tried his hardest to be a good person, but there was always that side of him that made him afraid. He was like an explosive; whenever someone got too close, he’d detonate and destroy everything around him. It was a self-defense tactic, albeit counterproductive.

It killed you to see him that way. He told you about the relationships he’d lost to himself. He told you about the abandonment and the loneliness. It broke your heart. He tried to distract himself, drowning himself in work so he’d never have the opportunity to ruin what he had with you. Peter Maximoff was a walnut tree; every time he planted his roots and began to grow, he’d kill anything that grew too close. However, the constant working started to wear Peter down.

It started with the late nights. He’d collapse next to you at four AM, knocking out the minute his head hit the pillow. Still, he’d be awake before you were, already scrambling around trying to complete various tasks. He was like a machine that was running from it’s problems. The late nights turned to all-nighters, and the few hours Peter managed to salvage set aside for sleep had shrunk to a few minutes at a time. He didn’t eat anything with even a hint of nutritional value. At this rate, he was going to work himself to death.

The worst part? Peter knew what he was doing. He wasn’t stupid. He just needed to shut up the little voice in his head that urged him to act out. The entirety of his childhood, Peter destroyed what he created. The need to be isolated, the feeling that he deserves to be alone spread throughout his body like a cancer. He locked himself away in the basement, trying desperately to stay out of everyone’s way so they wouldn’t shut him out. People tried to coerce him out of his cave, to pull him out of the bottomless pit he threw himself into. Peter saw them as the sirens trying to lure him into the ocean of loneliness, and he wasn’t going to fall for it. In his eyes, anyone who tried to help him were the villains of his amazing, heroic tale. Fortunately for him, one by one, they started to give up on helping him. They thought he was a lost cause; a fucking loser who was destined to wallow in his own self-pity until he died. At first, this was a triumph. He defeated them, he outwitted the sphinx and slayed the dragon. But a part of him hated himself for becoming the worst-case scenario that every parent feared their child would grow up to be.

He pulled himself out of his pit and back onto his feet, all by himself. It was hell on Earth, but he did it. That cancerous feeling of uselessness retracted back into itself, now residing in the place next to Peter’s heart. However, that horrifying fear of becoming a burden began to grow again, this time when Peter was in his mid-20s. He began to overcompensate, and that led him to where he was; always on the brink of collapse, running on nothing but coffee and twenty minutes of sleep. In return, Peter got to have friends. In his mind, that was fair. In your mind? Not even close.

You managed to catch him in his bedroom as he was in the midst of simultaneously scribbling in a notebook and reading an open novel. Peter Maximoff would always be the most beautiful person in the world in your eyes, but at that moment, he looked like hell. Your plan seemed foolproof, but then again, you weren’t sure what you were walking into. Lately, Peter didn’t seem like himself. Probably because of the lack of sleep.

“Peter?” He looked up at you, eyes half-lidded. “I got you something.”

“You did?” A sleepy smile was all he could muster, but that was google enough for you.

“I did. It’s to mark exactly three years since I first met you,” you sat down on his bed, placing the small wrapped book right next to you. Peter glanced at the calendar on the wall-- oh god, you were right. It’s been three years to the day and he forgot. He deserves the title of “World’s Worst Boyfriend”. Scott will probably be upset that he’s losing his title.

“What’re you up to?”

“Finishing up some old work I’ve been putting off,” he punctuated his sentence with a yawn. “Some of my old work and some of Hank’s, too.” “Why are you doing Hank’s work?”

“He seemed stressed about something, thought I might help clear his head,” The sentiment is sweet, you’ll give him that.

“Alright, well, can we talk for a minute?” Alarm bells went off in Peter’s brain. There has never, in the history of the universe, been a good conversation that started with ‘can we talk for a minute?’ or any of it’s cruel variants.

“Actually, I’m kind of busy right now, can this wait?” It was obvious that the answer to that was no, but still, he felt the need to ask.

“Not really, no. It’s important.” Peter saw the next few seconds playing out in his head. The inevitable had come to fruition; you realized that you could do better, and now you were cutting him loose. He couldn’t blame you, not really, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t going to rip him to shreds. He realized that whatever you brought for him was most likely a parting gift. How sweet.

“Oh. Alright.”

“Well, I’m going to give it to you straight,” you sighed. “I’m worried about you, Peter.”

Oh. He’s heard this speech before, he knows the spiel. He can vaguely recall a guidance counselor telling him the exact same thing before Peter decided to call him a slew of expletives. The tar pit in his chest began to grow.

“I’m fine.” This was a lie. The first lie in a long chain of lies that Peter was about to tell to you, his favorite person in the world. He loved you, but in that moment his vision clouded over. You weren’t the person he loved and cherished anymore, no, you were just another faceless blur that provided a temporary escape.

“Really? I feel like you’re pushing everyone away, you’re pushing me away.” Peter was becoming more and more irritated by the second.

“I told you, I’m fine. I’m not pushing you away.

“Don’t lie to me,” your voice is firm and unwavering. “You don’t sleep, you almost never eat-- I don’t think I’ve seen you stand still for more than three minutes once in the past month--”

“That’s just how I am,” Peter huffs. He wanted this conversation to be over. “That’s not your problem.”

“Your wellbeing is my problem, Peter, that’s the whole point of being friends with someone. Even more so now, because you’re my partner and I care about you--”

“Then stop,” Peter rolled his eyes. He's more irritable than normal-- most likely because he hasn’t slept in days. He could almost feel the venomous arms of isolation creeping around him. It’s a sick pattern, he knows; every time someone gets close to him, he feels the need to self-destruct before they lose interest. Even now, even after all this time, Peter’s still powerless against the poison in his veins.

“What?” You’re losing your reserve and your stature. He can tell. You’re slouching and picking at the cuticles on your thumb. It’s almost as if he’s been shoved into the back seat, and is now being forced to watch as a stranger takes the wheel and crashes the car. So much frustration, so much hurt, and it’s all coming out right now, onto you. Peter already regrets this entire interaction, but still, he manages to spit acid.

“Stop caring. Just leave, I know you want to. I know every night, you lie awake and think about all the different ways you can leave me in the dust. Not that it would matter to me.” This is another lie. Your eyes flash with hurt, but you stay put. You know he’s just being an asshole because he’s exhausted and too stubborn to admit that you’re right. He’s egging you on intentionally, trying to get you to snap and walk away.

“Peter, god, I love you but sometimes you can be so...”

“So what? C’mon, be honest with me,” He huffed.

“Frustrating,” You surrendered. The poise you once held was gone. “I know it isn’t your fault-- I know you’ve trusted so many people so deeply and been betrayed or sold out and I know you’ve loved so many times and been thrown to the curb without a second thought. But I don’t know what I can do to convince you that I’m here for you, and that I love you. I’ve tried everything, and it feels like I’m talking to a brick wall. I want to make this work, but I need you to work with me.” It’s evident in your voice that you’re desperate. You’re just hoping you’ll get through to him, somehow. “I need you to want it as bad as I do-- hell, I need you to want it at all.” Here it comes--

“You ever think, maybe, I just don’t want you to be that person for me? I’ve spent my life being independent, my entire existence so far has been built around the fact that I’m going to end up alone. People come and people go-- people like you and Charles-- and they tell me they care. They tell me that they love me and that they're here for me. And then they get tired of me and they leave. I wish that you would just leave me the fuck alone and let me live in solitude,” There it was. The lie to end all lies. The words tasted awful coming out of his mouth, and the whole ordeal left his mouth tasting very… sour. Peter had to look away, he couldn’t look at the expression on your face.

“Fine. If that’s what you want.” Your eyes never met his, but you paused before you exited the room. “I know you’re probably just… I don’t know, going through something, but you’re being an asshole. Don’t talk to me until you’ve sorted your shit out. Enjoy your solitude.” You left the room impossibly fast, your fists clenched so tightly Peter feared that your nails would break the skin on your palms. He struggled to keep it together-- why the fuck did he do that?

Peter collapsed onto his bed, and it’s only then that he realized you left behind the gift you got him. A part of him thought he should return it to you, but the other part of him urged for it to be opened. He tore the wrapping paper off before he realized what he was doing. The hardcover book the wrapping paper concealed was handbound, the cover littered with your beautifully familiar handwriting. In big, bold letters The Best of Poetry in the Humble Opinion of Y/n L/n was scrawled at the top.

Peter vividly remembers a late night you spent talking to him. You told him about your favorite poems, outlining each and every little detail you loved about them. Some of them he’d read already, some of them he hadn’t, but all of them sounded like artwork coming from you. He opened the front cover, and you’d written something else on the inside.

“In the words of the wonderful Peter Maximoff, ‘What’s the point of reading if you don’t get to share the love?’. This is me, sharing the love.”

Carefully, Peter opened to a random page in the book. He saw the notes in the margins and the doodles and the exclamation points and before he knew it Peter was on the verge of tears. He was barely containing himself, and then he read a specific annotation you made.

He had opened to the first page of “The Worm King’s Lullaby”, one of your all-time favorites. A specific line was underlined, one that Peter was all too familiar with: “Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” Beside it, you wrote:

“As much of a genius Mr. Siken is, I have to disagree with this. If you love someone enough, you’ll never leave them and they’ll never leave you. Even if they die, even if things don’t work out, you’ll always have a little part of them to carry with you. Carry this part of me with you, Peter. Not that I plan on leaving anytime soon.”

That was it. The floodgates broke. Everything that Peter had held back came pouring out-- the past 10 minutes finally caught up with him, and they hit him like a bus. He sat in the corner of his bedroom, his knees pulled up to his chest so tightly he thought his legs would snap. Peter wanted to rip all his hair out or punch a hole in the wall or hold his head underwater until he was nothing but an obituary and a headstone. His chest burned and the pit of despair inside his chest had overtaken his system, and he hated himself with a burning passion. Why did he do that? Why did he do that? Why the fuck did he do that?

Peter Maximoff had his breakdown in solitude, revealing in the fact that he was, undeniably, the villain of his own life.

As it turns out, ‘getting his shit together’ is much harder than Peter originally anticipated. He's trying, he really is, but it's hard. Especially without you there. Peter knows that he fucked up, and he knows that he needs to work for your forgiveness. And don’t worry, he’s going to work for it.

It had only been a week, but the entire mansion could tell that something was off. Life just wasn’t the same without the randomized gusts of wind that would knock people off their feet; no one had been seriously injured or had something stolen from them. The whirlwind that was mansion life, while still chaotic, lost it’s fun.

Charles tried to keep things running smoothly, but he was an old man and didn’t exactly understand you and Peter. People would knock on your door every now and then, but you didn’t answer. You were much too busy analyzing exactly how much of a bitch you were being-- realistically, the answer is 0%, but you didn’t see it that way. No, from your perspective, you saw Peter having a mental breakdown and you ditched him. Pretty shitty move.

What you didn’t realize was that Peter was doing the exact same thing, however, the blame falls mostly on his shoulders, and boy does he know it. He’s been scripting his grand apology, trying desperately to find the right words to express exactly how sorry he is. Peter was never very good with words-- it’s always too hard to know if you’re going to say the wrong thing and mess everything up. Although, it’s hard to see how the scenario could get any worse.

He made the executive decision to start with “I’m sorry”-- a solid start to any apology. Sure, he could stop there, but Peter realized that he’d probably need more to win back his partner. So, he managed to scribble down a few more lines on a tiny notecard he was supposed to use for studying. Oh, what a wondrous redemption arc this would be; Peter gets into a fight with his wonderful partner and ruins their relationship and then struggles to come up with a coherent apology.

“I’m sorry about what I said, that was shitty. I shouldn’t have said that.” Peter’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration. God, he was going to die alone, wasn’t he? Maybe this is the cruel punishment the world is dealing to him, the universe is deciding that Peter’s redemption arc would be better if it, well, didn’t exist. Even so, he isn’t planning on giving up or giving in just yet.

He scrapped what he had so far and started at the beginning once again. His 9th grade english teacher would tell him to write about what he knows, and though he doesn’t know much, he’s an expert when it comes to himself. Peter knows how he feels about you, he knows how sorry he is, and he knows that he really, really, really wants you to know that he didn’t mean a word he said about not wanting you. Peter knows about love, at least a little bit, and he realizes he’ll need more than just words.

His mind drifts to that night, years ago, in front of the fireplace. He vividly remembers a tiger lily and a chameleon scribbled in the margins of your book. Realistically, Peter couldn’t get his hands on a chameleon, but a tiger lily was a different story. In high school, Peter took a botany course because he thought it’d be easy. It wasn’t, it was boring as all hell, but it seems like his slacking paid off. He knew tiger lilies were indigenous to Asia, but they’d become quite common along New England-area roadways.

Peter grabbed his jacket and took off, tearing through the roads like his life depended on it. In less than 10 minutes, Peter found himself in the middle of New Hampshire drenched in rain. In hindsight, he probably should’ve checked the weather before leaving. Nevertheless, he takes off into the small wooded area that laid passed the road’s end. Dozens of mushrooms dotted the muddy ground and mossy rocks clouded his peripheral vision. The rain begins to lighten as he spots a bright orange tiger lily peeking through the remains of a tree stump. He sprints over to it.

The tiger lily is bloomed and beautiful and Peter can’t tear his eyes away from the wide array of speckles and splotches and color. It’s pristine, but some of the petals are torn or wilting. The roots stretch into the stump below it, and Peter leans closer. The stump is old and worn, fungi and bugs eat away at the base next to a large hole where a family of worms reside. The stump is ugly, sure, but it’s useful. It helps keep the bugs fed and keeps the worms warm. There’s a metaphor here somewhere, but Peter is too distracted to find it.

He gently picks the flower and spins on his heel, taking off once again. The rain makes it harder to run, but it’ll take a lot more than water to stop Peter. By the time Peter gets back to Xavier’s the flower is a little crushed, but it’s still somewhat pristine.

He has the flower, he has the apology, and now all he needs is courage. Thankfully, that courage comes quickly as he instinctively knocks on your bedroom door. He probably should’ve stopped to collect himself, but he was riding a wave of adrenaline that wouldn’t come back.

“Go away, Jean,” You called from inside. You sounded tired, and it made Peter sad.

“It’s-- uh-- it’s not Jean,” Peter can hear your hesitant footsteps approaching the door, and suddenly the courage he managed to build up drained. His hands are shaking by the time you open the door. You look up at him, and Peter looks back at you, and suddenly everything is much harder to do. He looks down at his feet.

“Hi.” Your voice is hoarse, but clear.

“Hi.” Peter’s voice is uneven and quiet. You stand there in silence for a minute before Peter pipes up again.

“So, uh, you’re probably still mad at me and I get that, but I just want you to hear me out. I-If that’s okay,” You nod slowly, and Peter takes a deep breath. He thinks about the written apology that sat in his coat pocket, and he makes the last-minute decision to forget about it. He’ll speak from the heart, or, whatever people in rom-coms do.

“I’m sorry. It was really shitty of me to get angry at you because you were worried about me-- although, I guess shitty is an understatement. Everything that I said about, yknow, not wanting you or Charles or anyone else around anymore wasn’t true. I need you guys, and I love you guys and it was unfair of me to push you away. Solitude really sucks. I guess I’m just not very good at navigating relationships,” He exhales, and his chest shudders. “I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore, I just thought I should make it clear how I feel.” It’s only then that he remembers about the tiger lily in his hand. “Oh, and this is for you.”

“A tiger lily?” you smiled softly. “These are my favorite-- how did you know?”

“I’m just observant, I guess. You usually draw them when you’re bored, I figured you’d like to see one in person,” You gently took the tiger lily in your hand. The silence that hung in the air was deafening, and Peter realized that was probably a bad sign. His chest drops just a bit, and he takes a small step backwards.

“I guess I should probably leave you alone--” Peter can’t get very far, because you immediately jump forward and wrap your arms around him. Eyes wide and heart pounding, you can feel Peter’s arms lock around your waist.

“Thank you,” You whispered. “Please don’t go.” Peter was smiling so hard his cheeks ached, and a horrible weight had been lifted off his shoulders. The close-contact was refreshing; he didn’t realize how much he missed it until that moment. He was pretty sure he would never, ever let you go. Not again.

To Peter Maximoff, physical affection has always been a touchy subject-- that is, until you came along. You proved to him that he deserved physical affection, that his mutation and his personality and weirdo quirks didn’t make him lesser or unlovable. Peter Maximoff deserved love, and you were the one who never failed to love him.

You sat on a wooden chair in front of the fireplace, reading to the group of children sitting at your feet. The emotional lines of “Snow and Dirty Rain” fell from your lips, and with every turning syllable the small group would listen just a little bit closer. Peter did, too, desperately trying to hear every single word you said. Class was almost over, and once the students were dismissed you’d probably stop reading.

“I made this place for you. A place for you to love me. If this isn't a kingdom then I don't know what is,” Your eyes tore away from the page to look at the kids at your feet. They fell upon Peter, and a smile erupted on your face.

Peter vaguely recalls the twisted idea of love that he held as a teenager. He thought love was a dragon to be defeated, a battle that could be won or lost. It’s clear now that love is the opposite-- it isn’t a fight or a battle or a thing to be conquered. It’s more like a flower; it needs to be cherished and cared for in order to grow. Sometimes the flower wilts and dies, and that’s natural, but sometimes the flower lasts for a lifetime.

Love wasn’t a dragon or a knight, it didn’t have a hero or a villain; it was much more like a tiger lily and a tree stump.

#Evan Peters #peter maximoff #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader #peter maximoff x reader #wandavision #xmen fanfiction #xmen

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worldwidemochiguy · 4 years

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Reticence (soft! Yandere Hoseok)

Summary: You were always terrified of getting kidnapped when you were younger, and now that you’ve been taken by a man who claims to want to take care of you, you recede within yourself so far you refuse to even eat... but Hoseok is determined to let nothing hurt you, not even yourself.

Warnings: Kidnapping, kind of Stockholm syndrome, mentions of not eating so if you’re sensitive to that kind of stuff pls be careful <3 Yandere behaviour, though I am kind of romanticising it in this fic, please remember that that is all it is: Fiction. Obviously in real life this behaviour would be unacceptable and horrifying.

Word Count: 2.2K

Masterlist :)

a/n: my first hobi fic!!! this is for @kpopgirlbtssvt from a request made about a billion years ago (sorry :/ ) for made-for-each-other verse! Yandere Hobi with a shy reader who wouldn’t talk even though he begged her to, and then him coming home from work to her telling him she missed him and was glad he was home. this was a lil less fluffy and a lil more angsty than i intended, but its still a ‘happy ending’ bc im a weak bitch with simple pleasures, what can i say lmao

Reticence

“What do you want for breakfast, sunshine?”

Silence.

Hoseok sighed, then straightened up again, walking over to the refrigerator. You remained sat by the kitchen island, empty gaze fixed on the marble countertop.

“Omelettes it is, then!” He exclaimed with artificial excitement, trying to be cheery in the face of your taciturnity, but even the sunshiney optimist that was Hoseok was finding it more difficult than he expected. He had hoped that by now you would’ve accepted him, but you remained as quiet and unresponsive as the day he brought you home. Not that you thought of it as ‘home’ yet, but he hoped you would eventually. Hoseok was not a patient man, but he was willing to wait forever for you.

You didn’t even blink when he set the plate down in front of you. It didn’t seem like you were going to attempt to eat it either. Hoseok sighed. He could understand if you didn’t want to talk to him yet — even though it had been months and he’d been nothing but kind to you — but he drew the line at refusing to eat.

You had lost weight. The cute cheeks he loved to watch bunch up as you smiled were now sunken. Your beautiful figure which he had admired from afar was starting to become worryingly waif-like. Hoseok frowned, a crinkle between his brows forming for the first time as his usually exuberant features warped with agitation.

“Listen, Y/n-” Hoseok sat down at the kitchen island across from you, bracing his forearms against the table and leaning forwards. “You have to eat. I promise there’s nothing in it that could hurt you. Look, I’ll even eat it myself!” Hoseok carved out a small piece of the omelette and popped it in his mouth, exaggerating his chewing and swallowing. “See?” You offered no reaction, and Hoseok felt his disappointment join the omelette on its way down to his stomach.

“I can understand that you maybe aren’t so happy with me right now, but that doesn’t mean you have to punish yourself. Just, please, please stop shutting me out.” His pleading tone did nothing to move you. You just sat there like a ghost, and a groan of frustration slipped out of Hoseok.

“Please! I’m begging you! Just eat! I don’t understand, all I want to do is take care of you! All I want to do is love you, why won’t you accept me? Why won’t you even talk to me?”

The only sound was Hoseok’s harsh breaths after his outburst. If he couldn’t see the slow rise and fall of your chest, Hoseok would think you weren’t alive at all. He slumped in his seat, allowing himself to wallow in self-pity for a moment, before forcing himself to get up and ready for work. When he passed through the kitchen again on his way out the door you were still sitting there, staring at the countertop.

The front door banged shut, the sound echoing in the apartment. Then, silence. And then, very quietly, the noises of cutlery moving against a plate and chewing.

~~~~~~

“I don’t know what to do~” Hoseok whined, his head buried in his hands. Around him, his shocked friends were gathered in an informal circle. Each of them had an expression with varying degrees of surprise and confusion — they had never seen Hoseok, the literal personification of sunshine, so dismayed.

“It’ll be ok, Hoseok. I know it’s bad at the moment, but you just have to wait until she trusts you. Once you achieve her trust, you’ll both be the happiest you’ve ever been.” Taehyung reassured him. Taehyung was obviously the source of authority, since him and his wife were basically the perfect couple.

“But what if she never trusts me?” Hoseok fretted, before groaning again. “She won’t even eat! I don’t know what to do, I’m just watching her slowly starve in front of me and she won’t even look at me!” The rest of the group paused as they digested this new information. It seemed this girl was particularly stubborn.

“Force feed her then.” Jin shrugged and Hoseok’s head shot up in outrage.

“No! I could never hurt her like that!”

“You’re hurting her by letting her starve.” Jeongguk pointed out, and Namjoon smacked the back of his head, chastising. Meanwhile, Hoseok looked like he was about to cry.

“Listen, Hoseok, are you sure this girl is the one?” Jimin questioned, bracing his clasped hands on his knees.

“I know she is.” Hoseok replied with a conviction he rarely used. “The second she came into my life, it was like I was born again and she was the first thing I saw. The only thing I could see. Her face- God, it just… glows. She’s like sunshine. She’s an angel. She’s so beautiful and kind and fragile and I want to protect her from everything, and I don’t deserve her but no one else does either and I know we’re meant to be together. If I thought I could’ve let her go, I would have. But I can’t. I have to have her, she has to be mine.”

The circle of men was quiet for a second, before a quiet chuckle broke the silence.

“Well then,” Yoongi rasped, “if she’s all that you say she is-”

“She is.” Hoseok interjected fiercely.

“Then all you can do is have a little patience.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It was incredibly boring being kidnapped. Especially when your kidnapper did nothing interesting except make bad food and dance along to music from the TV surprisingly well and cry sometimes when you wouldn’t look at him. Frankly, it would have been easier if he were more of the torturey-type, because it was really hard to stay stubborn in the face of his sparkling eyes and radiant smile.

When you were younger, there was a poster up on the wall of your homeroom at school. On it was an old man with an ugly sneer and a beige trench-coat, with the slogan ‘DON’T TALK TO STRANGERS’ superimposed in glaring red letters. You used to stare up at the poster and wonder how anyone could be so stupid as to talk to someone who looked like that.

You were never afraid to yell ‘STRANGER DANGER’ at the highest decibel your little lungs could manage whenever a person brushed too close to you in the mall. It was almost a habit — you were avidly fixated on your own personal safety, much to your mother’s chagrin and public embarrassment. Being banned from all the surrounding stores within a 20 mile radius had two consequences:

You had to drive forty minutes for a new pair of socks.

You stayed at home a lot more than you went out.

You became a homebody, and it was certainly not something you were unhappy about. Staying safe in your room meant there was less risk for someone to kidnap you. The comforting layer of your blanket was a shield from everything bad in the world. When your parents were arguing constantly, screaming at each other every other night, you would just tuck yourself in and read a bedtime story on your own since they were both occupied. When your parents eventually divorced, you buried yourself under your duvet rather than answer their questions about who you wanted to stay with, and what your preference was. When your mom died in a car crash, and your dad started drinking, your mattress was the shoulder you could cry on, your blanket was a warm arm holding you close. You had always felt safe in your bed. Perhaps that was why you were having such an averse reaction to being taken from it.

Hoseok was not a man with an ugly sneer and a trench coat. He had an impeccable sense of style, and his smile was breathtaking on the few occasions that it appeared. You more often saw his face twisted into a pained grimace. For a kidnapper, he was awfully sensitive. You were pretty sure it was reasonable for you to be holding grudge, and it’s not as if you were actively fighting against him or anything. You were just refusing to acknowledge him. You were highly skilled at repressing things, or ignoring them, and you were resolved to do the same now.

By 7 o’ clock, your resolve was slightly eroded. Hoseok always arrived back at half-past 5 on the dot. He was a very punctual person, and you felt an unwelcome sense of worry curl along the edges of your mind as the clock counted away the seconds of him not being there. You remembered feeling the same way when you waited for your mom to pick you up from your dads, watching the clock hand sweep past the numbers, increasingly taunting. Of course, you hadn’t realised that she was at the time caught in between a lorry with a drunk driver and a very steep incline. You wondered if you were being similarly clueless now.

When the door clicked open at quarter to 9, you had to restrain yourself from exhaling in relief. Hoseok came in looking slightly disheveled, his collar undone and his hair mussed as if he had ran his hands through it over and over again. He gave you a quick once over to see if you were alright, shot you a small, forced smile and then went straight to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

That was odd. He never closed the door to his bedroom. He had always left it open in case you needed anything, despite your refusal to acknowledge him. First, his late arrival and now yet another uncommon action? You felt curiosity bubble within you. That was it. Curiosity. It’s not that you were at all worried about him, you were just being nosy. Of course.

You tiptoed towards the door, tracing a finger around the door frame lightly. What if he didn’t even come out again for dinner? You doubted he had dined out without you, he had been eating his meals sitting across from you while you refused to touch yours since the day he stole you. You really should check on him, if only for the fact that if he dies then you’re trapped here with a high chance of starvation.

Before you could convince yourself not to, you opened the door and stepped inside. The only light-source came from the moonlight filtering through the window, casting Hoseok’s form lying on the bed in a deep blue. His eyes, which you assumed had been closed previously, shot open to observe you as he propped himself up on the backs of his forearms.

“Y/n.” He rasped, and a pleasant shiver ran down your spine. “D-do you need anything?” His tone was both excited and confused, probably because you had literally never directly interacted with him before.

You didn’t speak, and for the first time your silence was due to speechlessness, rather than a conscious desire.

“I-I, uh,” You stuttered, and Hoseok sat up ramrod straight, hearing your voice for the first time. “You… were late home.”

Hoseok felt like he couldn’t breathe. Your voice was so soft and pretty, fuck, and you were actually looking at him, you were actually talking to him, holy shit- and you called the apartment home. You said he was late ‘home’. Hoseok somehow managed to keep his shit together.

“I was?”

“Yes.” You confirmed with a small nod of your head. Fuck, you were so cute. “You normally come back at half five. It’s almost nine now.”

“I’m sorry. I was working late.” He was staying at the office because he felt guilty for not taking proper care of you and wanted to avoid seeing the proof of your unhappiness, but you didn’t need to know that.

“It’s ok.”

You remained standing at the foot of the bed, locked in his gaze. The bed looked so comfortable, moulding to support his body, and his warm body was exactly the comforting presence you were searching for all those years ago and you found yourself asking,

“Can I sleep in the bed with you?”

It was a quiet, timid suggestion but Hoseok reacted to it like a bombshell. His eyes practically popped out of their sockets and his entire body tensed. You were about to rescind your offer when he reached out a tugged a corner of the blanket down, welcoming you into the warmth.

You awkwardly sat on the edge of the mattress, nudging off your house slippers with your toes before slipping under the covers. The relief was instantaneous, shrouded in comforting and familiar warmth, and you couldn’t stop yourself from plastering yourself against his side, arm reaching out tentatively to rest on his chest. You felt his muscles jump under your touch, before his arm slid under you and tucked around your shoulders, drawing you into him closer. You closed your eyes, letting out a quiet little sigh, and you let yourself say the words you wish you could’ve said all those years ago when your mother never returned.

“I’m glad you’re home. I missed you.”

#yandere bts #soft yandere bts #bts hoseok #bts jhope #bts hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #yandere hoseok x reader #bts imagines #bts fanfiction #bts fic #bts fanfic #jung hoseok

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crowleygal · 4 years

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Dean and the Writers

Why do the writers always target Dean with being the bad guy? Seriously, I want to know. First, Davy Perez bought and gassed up that bus and aimed it straight at Dean. They made him lie to Amara. But given the nature of the storyline, God wants to destroy the entire planet. To stop God they also have to stop Amara. They can't just suddenly decide to lock up God because that makes Sam look bad that he bought into God's lies that it destroyed the balance. Either Sam was easily manipulated or Amara doesn't get a choice. She has to be on boaard whether she liked it or not. Otherwise the planet is dead. No way the show is going to send that message about 'Chief' so lets get make Dean the bad guy by refusing to mention or remind the auidence that there is no option but for Amara to be on board and they have to secrure her cooperation by any means necessry but can't remind fans of that. Then Dabb's assistant shoved Dean into traffic, with the whole lying to Sam thing. Not to mention teen Dean's treatment of ppor wooby Sammy. The secret wasn't even that big. Dean said just the week before that a sacrifice would be required and when isn't one but at least it wasn't them. Who do you think he was talking about Sam? Sam is so wishy washy he makes a token objection but refuses to take a stand. Its not like he was bending over backward to find another way. The secret Dean held onto for what a day or two changed absolutely nothing. They also bring out that old tired, 'Dean doesn't trust San argument as justification for the lie. It why the show framed it as Dean somehow making this major revelation and being meen to Sam. Then they had Dean get angry and yell and make selfish statements about how he wants off the hampster wheel. Conviently forgetting to mention that destroying Chuck also saves 6+ billion people. Then Sam totally over reacts but no one really cares becasue they can cheer Sam on because the writing once again framed Dean as in the wrong. Even though Sam could have taken a stance any time he wanted. (Sam with Cas. he was bragging to Dean just a few weeks ago about Jack being a weapon). Then we have Glynn who scored a direct hit this week. Despite, just a few eps ago we had Dean say he was trying to forgive Jack and baking him birthday cakes, they had him shout Dean wasn't family. She had to know the reaction that was getting from the fandom. To back that bus over him some more, of course Jack over hears. Dean pulling a gun on Sam and cocking it. Punching and head butting Sam. That ice cold speech he made to Jack in the car. But nothing once again about the fate of the world being at stake. Then we have Cas and Sam polishing each other's halos when their motivation is just as selfish as Deans'. Sam wants to save his girlfriend and Cas wants to save Jack. Okay, I get that, but at the same time they have no alternative and Chuck can squash them like a bug any time he wants. Sam and Cas are risking 6 billion+ peopple to safe a few. The writing frames this as Sam and Cas being morally right while Dean is wrong. WHen they are literally all doing this for personal gain. Berens is the worst of all when it comes to Dean hate. Dean hate has gone expontially since Mary died. Dean (and Sam) should be the victims here, not Cas and most certainly not Jack. But every controversial deciion that came up the show made Dean do it. (More wishy washy Sam over the Malak box. He made a token objection but took no real stand). But the show realized it went to far and Jack couldn't be this pure innocent soul after killing Mary so he did the next best thing. He shifted blame by having Dean annouce Cas was dead to him. Now suddenly the audience is made at Dean (WHich is what Berens wanted). Then instead of letting Dean be rightfully angry at Cas for lying about the snake, they had Cas flounce and act like the injured party and then validated Cas's actions by having Dean grovel on his knees. (Once again proving my point, because Dean kept a very minor secret for a day or two and got yelled at. Cas kept a secret that lead to Mary's death but yet Dean is still public enemy number one in the fandom. ) So I'm honestly and truly wondering, why do the writers feel this need to frame Dean in such a negative light while they keep framing Sam and Cas in a postitive one for the exact same actions. (Lying, secret keeping, and selfish motivations). What makes all this worse that the there is no time to build the character back up. When to they start showing us al lthe traits Dean had before Dabb took over. Dean's heart, his compassion, his ability to think outisde the box, his never say die attitude. How can people say Dean has had character growth when he only became this angry bitter person after Mary's death This week they seem determined to heap more grief and guilt on Dean. There is basically 1 ep left and that will be some big battle that I'm sure they will give the "lets all be friends" speech to Sam. I ask again when do they build Dean up? There is more to "character growth" then just pointing out flaws. This is why I'm dreading the next ep. Im fully expecting Berens to keep reversing that bus to run over Dean again and somemore After all if he is killing Cas he won't want the audience made at him. He'll want to shift blame and make it Dean's fault. I'm expecting Dean to come up the plan, insist on it, despite objections and it all goes wrong and Cas has to sacrifice himself to bail them out and everyone can be mad at Dean again. Why did the writers think that this character who is beloved by so many would be okay with them trashing the character this way right at the end, so that Dean isn't remembered as the complex, layered 3-D character, but a selfish, bitter and angry person. That isnt' character growth. Its character destruction. No wonder Jensen was so concered about Dean's legacy and said he would change how they got to the final episode. No wonder he mentioned specifically a 6 episode renewal on a streaming service. (Kind of specific and take on a whole new meaning with Jensen's produciton company. This post is strictly about the writers and how they are framing Dean. So please don't say well "its different when its (any other character here) because (insert reason here). Its just proving my point the the writers treat Dean differently than the other character. It makes me sad because Jensen doesn't deserve this and Dean's fans don't either.

#my ramblings #Dabb sucks #Jensen deserves better #SPN double standards #Dean deserves better #why do the writers dislike Jensen and Dean so much #don't tell me they don't #This is exactly what GOTs did to Daenerys #spn spoilers #Dean Winchester #I will never hate Dean but i hate Dabb for doing this to my favourite charcter #Imagine if it was Cas or Sam Dabb was doing this too.

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10boys · 4 years

Text

MLQC : Oral (receving)

♡ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Victor:

- Victor loves to get his wee wee sucked !

-But the glory in the action is more so getting to watch you sloppily lick and suck at his tip, face beated red and flushed from your view vice versa

-His #1 material for getting of is your visuals and how you react to him, so having a front row seat to the view of you, exposed and desperate for him makes his ego go insane

-I mean??? On your knees infront of the CEO as hes leasurly laid back in his chair throne,He lays shirtless for you to watch as his chest raises and falls , his fist gripped on your hair to keep your mouth in the spots that please him best. He’ll look down at you with knitted brows, his eyes fluttering with each new wave he recieves

-His long cock will stand straight up, shamelessly and proud. The slightly red tip will stand out aginst his black trousers, unbottoned and slid down just enough to free himself for you (yes i know we all wanna suck on them smooth thighs but he likes his Tough Boy™️ image when hes in his usual dominant mood) the sight of it alone causes a heat to form, clenching your thighs and jaw as to not drool over the image infront of you

-He keeps his jaw locked to contain his moans, but most of the time low breathy groans steadily escape his lips, especially when you keep eye contact , puppy dog eyes looking into his as he watches your body squirm below him for touch wowowie when this man does it he does it

-He is not of fan of starting off with himself though, his oral pleasure usually comes after tedious teasing sessions all focused on you, like said before, he loves knowing what he CAN and WILL do to you, and you probably suck 10x better after anyway. Seeing the desire in your face sends him over on its own and we wont even begin to talk about your whimpers around him

-Our Victor is definitely being treated aswell, before the buttons came undone you were sucking at his neck, hands running through his hair (his favorite), nipping at his ears. You whisper to him about how much you’ve thought of him and how he makes you feel , soon bringing his tent to life. Your tongue trials down over eatch nipple giving them both the appropriate amount of attention as your hands explore all he has to offer. Never in a billion years will he tell you how much he loves being adored and fawned over by you

-Victor is definitely a fucking kinda guy and prefers to finish himself inside of you (protected or not ya know whatever you’re into) , so when you go down he likes to just simply watch your tongue make its way around him. Kiss him up and down, suck at his balls, rub his head against your tongue, its all a show for him and it’s absolutely priceless. Play with his precum and tell him how good he taste and that is the end. Hes now trying to see how far he can fit in :)

-When he’s ready to cum tho his face will be a bit more expressive, his usual tightened face will soften as his mouth opens slightly. His low grunts will become faster and more throaty. His tight grip on your hair traves more so to the back and sides of your head, keeping it in place allowing him to utilizes his hips to softly thrust himself into your face. Although Victor loves to ruin you he’s still very gentle, he sees you as something precious to him, and like glass if he’s too rough he’ll break it. His cum tho? Anywhere really, depends on the mood. Mouth, face, chest,.. but you have noticed that his wave hits a little harder when you look into his eyes mouth wide open ready to taste whatever he has for you it may not taste good but who cares its victor

Lucien:

-Going down on lucien is not only delectable and delicious, its an experience very close to god

-Lucien, a lot like Victor, loves seeing you squirm for him. Out of all the boys Lucien is the most sensual when it comes to your guys’ more intament moments, and, as we all know, he LOVES to fucking tease

-First lets get his image ready, 2k19 birthday card Lucien, white robe loosly tide around his petite waste making his chest appear much larger, as though it’s about to burst. You leasurly lay beside him as he uses one hand to lightly play with your ear, his soft delicate fingertips leave mint-like shivers down your spine as his hand travels down your ear to your neck to pull you closer to him.

-His gaze compaires to the hot sun as heats your skin, a smile spread on his face as he watches you blush and twitch for him. His exposed body so close to your own has a million fantasys running wild, and he knows it. He loves it. The only thing breaking you from your thoughts is the new found wet warmth that quickly ran across your lips.

-And with that, a tongueing session has began. Your hands lovingly interlock as your tongues slowly run agaisnt each other. Lucien loves his view and his control, he’ll hold your chin still as he demands you to “ Be a good girl and stick it out for me”. As your mouth hangs open for him to use as he pleases, he looks down admiring the very spot that will soon have him shooting loadssss lmao srry

-His lavender eyes lock on yours as he exposes his own tongue, giving you a view as you watch it slowly decend onto yours. The tip touches your own as he dances and plays against you. You whimper immediately upon contact, much to his liking. This man loves the intimacy of your mouth, and he will use it as he pleases. He’ll suck, give long licks, exchange spit, put his thumb in your mouth wow why is he not in my mouth :(

-By the time he’s done having his fun,his buldge is shamelessly parading from under his robe (possibly even accompanied by sticky pre-cum if he was truly enjoying himself). Due to all the restless moving and groping his thighs have made themselves known, peeking from under his robe. The sight intices you, and who would our Professor be if he didn’t immediately notice what has your attention? He graps your hand to lay agaisnt his chest, the soft supple flesh glides under your fingertips with ease, encouraging you to wonder. As your hand traces down further and futher , our gentleman unties and exposes himself at your same pace, all with that same Lucien glare. The view of your man layed back, robe undone and ready just for you was enough to make your jaw drop. As you venture lower your fingers begin to feel soft fine hairs, signaling you that treasure is near.

-That was the end for him and you, as you were now bent over for a better position to please him with. Your face was presses to his V-line, licking along his natural curves and dips. Your ass hung loosely in the air competeing for his attention. His brows raise slightly upon first contact, his usual luke-warm temperature now consumed in nothing but a blaze of heat. His white robe still lays over his most intimate area, creating a most delectable view for you as it enhances your imagination of what’s underneath. And boy if he wasnt juicin then hes jucin now.

-the thin material of his white robe sticks with ease to his wetness, allowing undertones of his pink tip to show itself. Lucien lays there, face flushed. He shoots you his sexy smirk as reassurance to continue playing at your discretion. Lucien likes to swallow most of his noises (until he gets heated enough to cloud his head). He’ll shamelessly spit praise and questions at you though,it’s something that gets him incredibly off omg imagine phone sex, “You like that ?” “That feels good huh?” “Touch whatever you’d like angel, im yours” “your mouth..you use it so well”

-You allow your thumb to run across his tip earning a sharp inhale, the friction from the fabric mixed with your gentle hands creating a delectable wave for him. As you move your hand back you watch as he twiches under his robe, one ball falling into view. Your hand caresses his sack in view, and you swear you’ve never came untouched but today might be the day. Its warm and soft as it takes up your much smaller hand. Lucien seems to be enjoying it too, as his gaze that’s usually on you is now fixed on your ass to further get him off. His brows tightly knot and as he bites his lip concealing his low grunts and groans. His balls tighten in your hand causing you to lick your lips in anticipation. You slowly peel away the damp cloth, a small string of cum streching out as the robe is disgarded. And there he lay. In all his glory , he spreads his legs wider as he twiches again, silently desperate for your mouth. Lucien is a very patient partner, although he has his rough moments and definitely rougher desires he’ll maintain his composure for your likening.

-You position yourself over his leg, allowing you to grind and relieve even a little bit of what feels like the screaming heat in your core. You bend down to first lick and suck on his balls earning a breathy inhale from him. The long-lasting teasing definitely paid off as you watch his hips immediately begin to slightly buckle and thrust into your warm mouth. He extends one arm to begin caressing your face, but the gentle act quickly turns as it begins traveling down, first dipping your shirt, exposing your hung chest to him.He’ll fondle them in sedating awe before leaving them to wonder your ass. You might even feel fingertips brush against your most inner lips, his ego enlarging after feeling your byproduct of him.

-Once he’s finally in your mouth you both moan in unison, the satisfaction of his taste is hypnotizing as you subconsciously bob your head onto him. It didnt take long for his pre-cum and your spit to create the perfect sensation for the man who truly deserves it. The usual shit-talker lucien is silent, eyes squeezed shut as his mouth loosly hangs open you swear you seen drool. His heart eyes are hooded as he opens them to gaze down at you. Large cock absolutely covered in liquids, the spits traveled down leaving web-like strings across your chin and chest. Lucien is very large, so you use your hands to work what can’t fit (unless you’re a BIG BITCH who can just throat that shit, go for it luvs, it aint me tho)

-A thin layer lf sweat lightly coats his dark bangs draped over even darker eyes. His realease is approaching. His orgasms are usually very forceful, he likes to pent himself uo for his moments with you. As he comes nearer his chest rises and falls to drum of his quickened breathing, one hand gliding across his chest to stimulate his nipples. His head is leaned back exposing his pale neck sheen in his sweat. His long body spread about the bed becomes restless, hips bucking and thrusting as higher pitched moans begin to escape his mouth. You feel him twich in your mouth and ready yourself to take it. His hands grip your hair as his body caves into itself, he twiches and bucks until you taste a familiar taste in your mouth. His body stiffens until the spurts are no more. He immediately relaxes his muscles with heavy breathes.

Ahh this was a bit longer than I anticipated! Its also my first headcanon so pls take it easy on me as i find my fit, I wrote victors at night and luciens at work...i think the deference in detail is obvious lol but then again lucien is my second fav so i got carried away!! Theres alot of (uneeded) forplay in his even tho it was supposed to just be oral... i dont think anyone’s complaining tho haha. I want these to come out very steadily so i will be making Gavins and Kiros in another post VERY SOON ! Since im new my inbox is open to request! Ty - myk

See Gavin , Kiro

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a-jynx · 5 years

Text

Who’s The Cutest?

Summary: Your 2-year-old daughter, Harley, has been having horrible fits lately, after exhausting all your options, you finally turn to Sam for some help.

Pairing(s): Sam x reader, daughter Harley, mentions of Uncle Dean

Warnings: None besides, tooth-rotting fluff, and some implied near the end ;)

Small note: This is based off a cute ass video I saw on IG, and I could NOT get this idea out of my head! I hope you guys enjoy it!

SPN Taglist: @laceyn-1201, @waywardnewcomer, @supernatural-teamfreewillpage, @i-hear-crazy-calling-my-name, @casiskween, @great-godpotato-akane, @closetspngirl, @specialagentlokitty, @dearsmileyman, @im–an–angel–you–assbutt, @destiel-trenchcoatangel, @msimpala67, @thetallassgirl @invisibledevour,@gabriels-trix, @gabby913, @xiumin-girl99, @stileslove, @fabinaforever11, @samwinchesterssexyface, @billiexmendes, @ilovemymoose, @hobby27, @moonlight-babeh, @moosekateer13, @exo-nova, @mlovesstories, @fabinaforever11, @shatteredabby, @keithseabrook27, @xostephanie

SPN Taglist is open! Just send a message/Ask w/ an 💜 attached & you’ll be added! Or, if you've added and want to be removed, just send an Ask!

Enjoy! Feedback is appreciated & encouraged! 💖

I could feel tears in my eyes as I stared at my daughter, her lungs projecting the loudest screams she could muster while large tears rolled down her reddened cheeks. “Pumpkin, please,” I whispered as her echoing choked sobs turned into hiccups, only to break back into chest rattling and head-throbbing cries.

“Harley, baby, what’s wrong, please tell momma,” I moved closer, gently grabbing her wrist only to quickly release it as she yanked away and placing it in her lap as she continued to wail. Sam and Dean had been gone for little more than a week, and this was the longest Har hasn’t seen her daddy… “Har, come on, daddy and uncle Dean will be back any day now!” I sighed, scrubbing at my face as I grumbled small curses to Sam for making her a daddy’s girl.

“Want dada! Want dada!” Har began to chant between cries, I slumped against the sofa, one of my hands resting on her leg as she suddenly went quiet, soft hiccups breaking through her sniffling. Craning my neck, I looked up at her with softening eyes, my short nails dragging across her calf in a soothing manner. She turned her head, flashing me those big doe eyes that resembled those of her father’s -- that gorgeous sunflower pattern hidden behind a layer of tears. “Baby, I promise, daddy’s going to be home so soon that you’ll forget all about these fits,” I whispered, rubbing my thumb down her leg as she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest as she continued to sniffle, shaking her head.

“Oh, mighty God, smite me now!” I rolled my head onto the couch cushion, swallowing thickly as I cracked open one of my eyes, seeing Harley sitting with her little lips pursed into a pout while her little cheeks glowed red; I couldn’t fight back a small chuckle.

She turned her head towards me, furrowing her small brows before crawling towards me, tilting her head like she’s seen her uncle Cas do more times than I could count. “What’s funny?”

“You are, baby girl,” I smirked as she gasped, clambering to take the mountain climb down off of the couch as I reached over, placing a hand on her bottom to help her as her little feet hit the carpet.

“I’s not funny!” She stomped as I smirked, cocking a brow and turning my body towards her, resting my elbow on the couch whilst resting my cheek against my palm. “I say you are,” she gently huffed, shaking her braids around with a pout.

“Nuh-huh!”

“Uh-huh.”

“No, momma!” She growled, making me chuckle again when the iron door above us creaked open, revealing two overly worked hunters trudging in. My lips tore into a smile as I stood, as Harley stood in front of me, staring up as she watched her uncle and father descend down the stairwell.

“Momma!” She snapped her head towards me as I nodded, smiling as she broke into a little run towards her father. I walked behind her, leaning against the back of the couch as they stopped, Sam’s tired face quickly breaking into the largest grin, crouching down as Harley slammed into his chest.

“Dada!” She squealed as he stood, holding her close against his chest as he peppered light kisses all over her rosy face. Her small squeals welcomed after the hours of crying she had just done. Dean grinned at the sight, stealing a kiss on the cheek from his niece as he moved away, allowing Sam to take the time with his daughter as she began to bombard him with questions about his “trip”.

“Hey, sweetheart, you feelin’ alright? Lookin’ a little more beat than us.” Dean half-grinned as I scoffed, moving close and hugging him tightly as he wrapped an arm around my waist. “‘M fine… Harley, however,” I sighed as he nodded, frowning as I pulled away, rubbing at my eyes with my palms. I felt a squeeze from behind, turning my head, I caught Sam’s lips as they crashed into me, making me grin as he slowly pulled away yet he kept his forehead pressed to mine.

“Hi,” he whispered as Dean slowly left, taking the duffel bags with him as I grinned, looking up through my eyelashes.

“Hey,” I glanced towards our daughter, smirking as I noticed the slight pout tugging on her lips. “I don’t think someone likes momma getting all the attention.” Sam frowned before looking at Harley, a small smile on his lips as he used his free hand to tickle her stomach, causing her to squeal and grab at his hands.

“What’s the matter with you, Har?”

“Momma mean,” she pouted more, puckering her lips as I rolled my lips together, fighting back a smile as Sam shot me a look as I shrugged gently. “Ooh, is she now? Why was momma being mean?”

“She says I funny!” She waved her arms around as Sam adjusted her, his lips still in a large smile as I moved towards the couch settling on it as he moved towards me, settling onto the couch as Har crossed her arms.

“But, Har, you are!”

“That’s mean,” she huffed as Sam frowned, glancing at me as I sighed, closing my eyes and rubbing at them as his frowned deepened. I felt the couch shift, making me open my eyes to see Har settled on his lap.

“Har, I want you to try something with me, okay?” Sam asked, sending her a gentle smile as she squinted her eyes, pursing her lips as she slowly nodded. “Good, alright, so after everything I say, I want you to say ‘me’ in the loudest voice you can!” Sam threw one arm over the edge of the couch, exaggerating his words as she giggled, nodding.

“Alright, who’s the best helper?”

“Me!”

“Good! Okay, okay, who’s the funniest?”

“Me!”

“Awesome, Har! Who’s the most creative?”

“Me!” Harley’s grin split across her face, almost reaching her ears as Sam nodded, himself grinning larger than the sun. I cozied up on the couch as I watched, seeing my baby girl finally laughing and smiling made all those days and hours of her crying or missing her daddy worth it.

“Alright, Har, this last one is a big one, you ready?”

“Yeah!”

“Alright, out of all of the girls on this planet Earth, and there have been billions, who’s the cutest?”

“Me! Me, me, me! I’m cutest!” Harley screeched as she jumped up, her little arms and legs kicking around as Sam held her up, allowing her to wiggle in mid-air as I watched in glee. I felt as if I were floating on cloud nine…

“That’s right! You’re the cutest, my little Harley!” Sam grinned, tossing her up as she screamed, laughter arising from her mouth as I sighed, just allowing them to soak in their time together. I glanced up to see Dean leaning against the doorway, my lips tugging into a grin as I gently elbowed Sam, who snapped his head towards me as I nodded towards his older brother. “Har, baby girl, I think Uncle Dean needs some loving too.” I whisper-shouted as Harley snapped her head around, her braids flying as she wiggled in her father’s hands, him quickly setting her down as she took off towards her uncle, who scooped her up and tickled her sides, another squeak echoing around the bunker as Dean nodded to me, taking Harley back to his “man cave” which was made into her playroom.

Groaning, I sunk further into the couch as I felt an arm wrap around me, making me peel open one of my eyes as I glanced up to see Sam smirking down at me. I moved closer, snuggling into his side as he leaned down, pressing his lips to my head as I grinned.

“I’ve missed you so much, babe… I just- I’m sorry we were gone for so long.” Sam sighed, his voice low as I hummed, playing with his flannel as I looked up, feeling sleep slowly take over as I moved closer into my man’s arms.

“It’s fine, Sammy… I’m just happy you and Dean are back safely, especially because that little girl needed her daddy.” I grinned as Sam scoffed, his arm squeezing me closer as a content sigh left my lips.

“What about you…?” His voice grew low as I craned my neck, biting back the smirk as I moved to sit up some. I tugged on the ears of his flannel, making him sit up and away from the back of the sofa, his lips pulled into a smirk as I gently kissed at his jawline before moving up, pressing my lips against his warm, soft yet dry lips. Moving in sync as his hand came to rest on my hip, making me grin into the kiss, him moving and deepening it.

“I definitely needed my Sammy back,” I murmured, leaning down and pressing a few feather-like kisses to his throat as he tilted his head, allowing me access while his hand moved up and down my side, the other resting on my ass. “Those two weeks were chaos without you, for me and for Harley,” I whispered against his Adam’s apple, causing it to bob as he gently squeezed, making me sit up.

“Well, have no fear, your knight in flannel is here,” he grinned as I rolled my eyes, pressing my chest against his and slowly reaching up, wrapping the collar of his flannel around my hands as I tugged him forward, our noses pressed together as I smirked.

“Thank the highest of heavens, I don’t believe I could’ve lasted another week,” I grinned as he pressed forward, his hips pistoned up as I broke our kiss to give him a breathy moan. He smirked, leaning forward and sloppily leaving open mouth kisses on my throat, sucking and biting at my special spot.

Suddenly, Sam stood making me squeal as he pressed me tighter against him before quickly moving towards our bedroom, I couldn’t hold back the giggles as he quickly threw open our door, and lightly kicked it behind him. My back met the cushion of our bed with a bounce, I grinned up at my husband.

“Who’s the cutest wife in the world?” Sam leaned down, nibbling at my jaw and throat as I sighed, allowing my eyes to flutter shut.

“Me.”

---

Well, it’s not Part 11, but I hope it’s good!

Hope you guys enjoyed this!

---

162 notes · View notes

unproduciblesmackdown · 4 years

Note

i was gonna send an ask like "have you considered: 'anger is a type of geography' + 4x11" and then i checked and you actually had! but if you feel like considering it More then here's a free space

oh thanks for these Layers of Allyship re: humoring my repeated [anger geography sign tapping] and checking for things and then sending me asks about it all to invite yet more Consideration.........yeah i feel like i mentioned it at least once in tags or smthing lol??? but here comes yet more consideration / giving it an In The Text post if that doesn’t exist already yet either

the Anger Is A Type Of Geography Quote From Hanif Abdurraqib in question for everyone’s reference:

anger is a type of geography. the ways out of it expand the more you love a person. the more forgiveness you might be willing to afford each other opens up new and unexpected roads. and so, for some, staying angry at someone you love is a reasonable option. to stay angry at someone you know will forgive your anger is a type of love, or at least it is a type of familiarity that can feel like love.

like, yeah sure what with winston originally talking to lauren and mafee about this and taylor Happening to walk in on it, he probably wasn’t necessarily planning to go off on his Indignant Monologue to taylor right then and there, but the fact remains that he was willing to do so, and i definitely think that that wouldn’t be the case if he didn’t have this Respect for them and think that they have respect for him in turn, and if he didn’t also think that that mutual respect is holding hands with mutually valuing each other. like, he wouldn’t say it if he didn’t think taylor might actually listen / consider what he says, and he wouldn’t even Want to say it if he didn’t give a shit about them, because he’s not just complaining about “um i simply ask for more money,” it’s about the fact he Feels Disrespected by the implied deprioritization of tmc employees and that the way this (false lol) choice is presented to them being Unfair and disingenuous. like, you could (and im sure most viewers do) interpret the other stuff he says as just him backing up his “Pay Me” argument when all he really cares about is the Pay Me part, but a) that’s not how We roll and b) doesn’t make sense with winston being just as happy as anyone else in 4x12with taylor Apologizing re: many of these 4x11 points, despite them not saying they were gonna change the Bonus situation lol, and c) it Does make sense to think that the Mutual Respect between taylor and winston matters to him due to [see: the rest of this post]

well wait lol first of all yeah sure the money Must matter to him b/c nobody could possibly be in the world of High Finance as a passion project (except for taylor apparently lmao cuz i mean we know that the Real reason they are determined to stick with hedge fundery (and involved in the first place) is b/c they are the best part of the show and elevate all the other Lesser Elements of it as well) and also we can figure that this was probably winston’s first year working a Big Time Official Job and he doesn’t have the savings that other ppl might when they’ve been in the business multiple years, and this seems to be backed up by lauren referring to him as they guy who’d be the First One Smothered by either taking a bonus cut by 40% or not getting that bonus at all until a whole other year, which, like he seems to also imply, is also Unhelpful in that surely these investment finance people turn around and invest their own finances, and Bonus Now is better than Bonus Then b/c.....interest....Long Shares.......and also just like tfw you want your job to pay you.......but anyways Seriously [next paragraph]

cuz winston *must* be working at Taylor Mason Capital b/c he really values working with taylor more than, say, wanting a job that will make him the most money, or will necessarily look the best on a resumé if he’s just looking to up his stats, b/c yeah, this is sure an unlikely opportunity for him where this is what we’re assuming is his First Fancy Job and he’s getting to be the Top Quant right out of the gate, but he must also know that like, it’s still like “oh so you were head quant at a brand new fund :/” and also he must know that there’s a Risk with said fund and he might even end up having been head quant at a new fund that burned out really quick, super impressive........and, we Know that winston *knows* how good he is at what he does, even though he keeps getting dunked on for that like he’s sooo conceited lol like. he IS that good, sorry!!!! why should he downplay it, we don’t actually see him being one of these shitheads with a fragile ego trying to prove themselves Superior or whatever.....ANYWAYS yeah the point being that, winston claiming to have a lot of offers already in the interview might very well Not be any kind of bluff, and he’d surely know that he could rise through the Quant Ranks quickly enough at some other fund even if he started out as anything but Our Main Quant at those places.......and if Getting Tf Paid Top Dollar was really his primary concern, “go with the brand new hedge fund which doesn’t have Established History / Experience / Clout and has the one big investor but who knows what’ll come next and any business that Just opened is not your safest bet even if you trust in your own skill and in that of your ceo and you Know that even if you’re not immediately destroyed, funds will be tighter / of a Lesser Amount than at a bigger established fund”.........the now-dramatic-irony of him talking about how those Tech Firms Out West pay guarantees, not bonuses.........like, when he was trying to get onboard with axe cap, he was obvs interested in trying to leverage to get Paid more, which is like, not necessarily winston wanting to be a trillionaire but also just how stupidly everyone’s supposed to like Play The Game of negotiating / leveraging / calling your employer’s bluff to get a certain starting salary / get a raise or whatever, dumb as hell baked-in Requirement........discuss your wages with coworkers gang!!! anyways. and but Also winston makes it clear when interviewing for axe cap that Working With Taylor Mason has appeal, even if he’s flippant about it, cuz he’s flippant about all of it cuz that’s his shtick here.....

like, when it’s Taylor Alone who calls him back eventually, he’s fine with meeting up with Just Them, and later on meeting up with Just Them (and the other quants, rip) again, and agrees to work in this lil basement evidently Not on axe cap premises b/c he’d been at axe cap’s offices and this is Not That Place......and yeah him talking about taylor selling axe on using his algorithm in kompenso sure implies that winston has this whole time Assumed that all of this was still ultimately in the service of axe cap.......and he was apparently fine with reporting to Taylor Alone and not getting to rub elbows with any other higher-ups, and he’s obviously pleased well enough with a “good work :)” from taylor and isn’t like “hey be sure to tell axe & co i did this singlehandedly etc” or anything, and he’s not really complaining about the whole “work in this lil basement Not at axe cap hq with taylor mason dropping in at least once to check on you and that’s about it” situation, which obviously is hardly that “You’re A Valued Axe Cap Employee” treatment one might expect if they wanted that.....winston’s glad that taylor called him, he’s trying to appeal to them and what *they* want to see rather than how he tried to go for what he thinks [a place like axe cap] would wanna see like he did in the interview, he’s showing up at this weird basement rendezvous to be on a 3 person quant team of taylor’s, he’s fine to not only do this on his own but also accept those increased demands that make it a [fifty(? or 15, either way) phds would work on this]-Level task, and then he’s glad just to have taylor’s approval at the end of the day.......they Wouldn’t have been able to promise him any leverage of “please do your best work on this” with like, promotions / clout within axe cap or axe-cap-levels of Lots Of Payment b/c like, well taylor wouldn’t outright lie anyways but also Especially wouldn’t if they wanted to keep this quant around for tmc, so winston must never have been asking about that kind of thing

and then, bless your Missing Scene fic but there’s zero canon content re: “uh how/when did taylor break it to winston that this algorithm was for their own fund actually and btw do you want to work for that fund instead,” but presumably it went smoothly enough, he was already happy to Effectively work for them alone apparently even if he still thought that yeah, he was working for taylor who was working for axe........just Yeah altogether it’s evident that “Working With Taylor Mason” must matter more to him than “working with any Other big name financiers” or “getting paid as much as he can get” or “raking in that clout asap to leverage with Other jobs or just like, in general.”

and then of course you have the fact that taylor is Recognizing his ability by calling him back and offering him this job, going “despite your demeanor your skills are superior” and “those other two were sweet, but you’re more talented, i need you,” [praying hands emoji], and giving him this Second Chance and entrusting him with this Solo re: building this algorithm which, unbeknownst at the time to him, is really this linchpin of their hopes & dreams of launching their own secret fund here, and really they must’ve been planning from the start to keep him around if he succeeded b/c it’s not like the algorithm and their whole planned Quant Department wouldn’t continue to be integral to the fund’s success, it wouldn’t really be ideal to have this guy be the one to build an algorithm to reel in an investor who’s working in.....wait for it......billions of dollars here, and then be like, okay bye dude. they must Know how good he is same as winston knows how good he is, and him being Head Quant from the very start was surely never just about mase cap having precious few employees at the very start of things....they could’ve like given him that Lead Position temporarily or whatever, they’re ceo. but they really do value him as like, maybe he doesn’t have the ideal ~personality~ for what fucking ever, either for being Properly Assertive and Impressively Flashy like axe cap might want, or just easy to work with, which taylor would care more about than axe cap would lol, but yknow, they value his Abilities and surely they must also value his efforts re: I Promise To Try and re: his really singlehandedly making that brilliant amazing algorithm which evidently did the trick as they hoped it would

and then......dare i get to the Emotional part of things, the Interpersonal....the anger and the love...............

i mean already when winnie n tay are having their post-math-meetup meetup, aka the first time they’re meeting After their disastrous really-first meeting aka the Interview, you have winston taking a way more grounded approach to this “yeah i want to work for you please accept me” process which is obviously in response to what he thinks Taylor wants from him based on the mess of the interview, evident thanks to winston telling them that he’s been thinking about all of that.......and i mean, part of taylor’s whole thing is they have that grounded approach pretty much always lol, (or try to....Want to...), but they sure seem to Also be bringing this effort to Accommodate him based on the hot mess of the interview, wherein yeah they wouldn’t’ve expected to have to ever interact again with this person they were dunking into the trash (and of course from that Meta Perspective, the scene when originally written was meant to be winston’s only appearance ever), but they really seem to also be bringing a more dialed down approach, letting him talk first and going along with his “you ever done math meetup” intro until he’s the one who changes the subject, and i really see that Head Tilt as a sympathetic one lol, not necessarily like “awww :’0″ levels lmao but still like. they Know he’s likely to have some [emotional vulnerability] re: what last went down between them since they weren’t especially gentle with him then, and they like, demonstrably give a shit about that fact lol. they’re also not just wholly swinging in the other direction to make up for it or anything lol but they’re Also making it clear that, yknow, they’re willing to work with him For Real, not just in this “are you willing to work for me, y/n, okay great” way, but in this way of [winston making an effort to make things easier on taylor] and [taylor making an effort to make things easier on winston] which is already playing out here between them.

and the whole matter of winston’s seemingly genuine Dismay at messing up even part of this exchange, i.e. the “[wince-ston] damn it, sorry,” like, sure maybe he just really wants the job, but [see: everything above about how he Must primarily want to work with taylor re: wanting any of these jobs lol] and, after all, he “oh shit, sorry”s @ them when he’s well-established as their Head Quant in ep 4x08 and generally shows this directed-at-self displeasure at thinking he’s messed something up even without some clear “your (potential) job is on the line” element......he just Doesn’t Want To Disappoint Taylor Themself, doesn’t need some particular fear of further repercussion behind that.

and speaking of Lack Of Fear, you Know we love to point out how kompenso (and really winston’s :/ + “sure, why not :\”ness at the end of 3x09 lol) demonstrates that winston isn’t afraid of taylor either as an [intense and unusually-demeanor'd person who Does apparently strike people as Scary(tm) sometimes lol] or as this Esteemed Rising Star Axe Cap Higher-Up or simply as his de facto boss.........he’s not raring to tell them that the other quants bailed b/c of his own disapproval lol, but he’s honest as soon as they deduce as much, the tone of “fine, yes, big time” + his standing up to get even closer to them instead of just shaking in his desk chair like :c pls forgive me obviously does Not convey that he’s terrified of them, and then the rest of that interaction jsut being like, ugh god so fucking essential, they’re both able to stand face to face and be like I Am Looking Directly At It / I Do See It re: each other, both of them just continuing to be Honest and Direct with each other, God.....taylor might’ve swatted his metaphor away but he was not all that put out, and then they’re Using His Own Language by bringing it back three seconds later, like, yeah sure at this point they have a vested interest in this individual quant (the only one left lol) accepting this Demanding Task, but a) they’re not exactly playing it cool on that front, they Just said “i need You,” it’s unlikely that this is just some all manipulative tactic here by encouraging his metaphor after all lol and that’s hardly their style anyways even if they Can be strategic(tm) about things, and b) they’ve Just Previously adopted his own words lol with winston having said “as for not being a dick” and taylor saying “you backslid into being a dick” (combining His Phrasing with Theirs aka “if you promise not to backslide”....god!!!!!!)

and so then yeah to top it all off winston even ~pushes his luck~ lol by being a lil deliberately rude re: his ex-coworkers lmaoo, and you get taylor’s Reaction to being sort of tested here to be Closing Off Their Expression (speaking of....their tiny lil Eyebrow Twitch when winston infers that he’s making something to pitch to an investor.....god!!!!!! a) winnie n tay and b) emmy) and making it clear that their interest in him acting Easy To Work With was a practical matter......winston watching them go up the stairs, taylor looking back at him as they Ascend and he gets back to his desk.....jesus

the point being!!! they vibe with each other so well by Kompenso already and just *get* how the other operates and communicates and Neither Of Them are offput by the other, Neither Of Them are unwilling or uninterested in meeting each other where they’re at, and each exerting this effort to really work with each other........and how winston is Not intimidated by taylor as either someone who’s so ~weird~ and can be so Intense, or as someone who is his boss lol........which yknow we always also point out as Important re: tayston developing from this point, where taylor would be careful in how they approach winston about fwbship but would feel like it was even reasonable to consider it in the first place thanks to not having to feel like oh he definitely wouldn’t feel comfortable being honest if he wanted to say no / wasn’t sure

also Yeah It’s Billions but winston freely swearing with the F-word when they’re assessing the completed algorithm, which taylor has no reaction to lol.......the both of them being Hyped about this algorithm lol, like, Of Course they’d both be, but it’s fun :)

and then 4x03, with winston not acting terrified about there being potential Algorithm Problems, and taylor making sure to be like “don’t you dare blame latency” lol like which obv he May Have been planning to mention lol since he’s intending to give this technical answer rather than throwing out his Front Running / Interference Theory like mafee then does.....fun little moment too anyways.......taylor Allowing winston’s tangent about being cassandra and emails and “it’s pronounced owned,” like, they’re not raring to Interrupt / cut him off even if it’s Not obvious what he has to say is absolutely crucial and considered relevant by everyone else, and they’re not telling him he’s a stupid idiot and wasting their time or anything else before sending him away.......imagine. and just think about the beauty of winston very intently / earnestly saying his “i’m cassandra: Always Seeing The Future” right to taylor.

and in 4x08 they build on his metaphor Again after having just Validated him despite everyone else really wanting to do the opposite lol......i “lol” but would everyone else lay off a little Lol......his self-reproach upon Registering that disapproval / oh-no-i’ve-messed-upness again.......then despite winston Standing Right Beside and then Sitting Right Behind taylor they don’t really interact l o l .....we have taylor being all “why is He so happy” and silently observing his Solo “i won” moment, rip, but also congrats.....and then i suppose that covers the Prior To 4x11 stuff lol

just......even re: the relative little we’ve Seen between them up to that point, winston might not have intended to talk to taylor right then, and he might or might not have intended to eventually talk to them in front of anyone else, but You Know He Knows that taylor listens to him, and that he doesn’t have to like, say things in what other people think is The Right And Effective Way to talk (even by billions’s fucking off the shits standards on that front lol), because taylor Does care about what he actually means and what his actual intentions are, not just “oh that very direct/honest thing you said Seemed rude whether you intended it or not”.......the “sad” after his yngwie malmsteen metaphor was the only time they’ve critiqued something like that lol and they then used that metaphor, So, and they’ve copied him calling himself a dick lol, and they built on his Sword metaphor, and they’ve just always been interested in Understanding him and communicating effectively with him, not in trying to get him to communicate differently or just making sure he knows He Should Feel Bad about how he Does communicate, though god knows the latter is something that everyone else seems to be somewhat #about. god knows some axe capper would have that “are you finished?” simply be the Purely Rhetorical intro to their barrage of Dunking-Upon insults, although it sure seems possible that that could’ve been sort of gently dismissive enough anyways to Encourage winston to not be finished even if maybe he would’ve stopped there otherwise.....but everyone else follows taylor’s lead in Not Actually Interrupting Him at any point, despite all the 9_9 and >:| as it were, and like, even though taylor then lets this whole thing end just with mafee going tf off on winston and bullying him into deferring and would-be deference, b/c winston might have this amount of moxie and he might be honest and he might not be scared of taylor (or anyone else here really) but he’s obviously not that assertive and definitely not that aggressive, he’s self-loathing, he’s easily put out, and all of this just bolsters how much it means that he communicates so well with taylor, b/c they’re Not interested in anything that would be counterproductive to actual effective communication but which might be “productive” if they had a goal of wanting to twist his arm about anything or pressure him into acting a certain way or just fueling their own ego or sense of superiority, axe cap style. they Value all his actual input and they have this respect for him where they don’t Want to bully him even if it’s not that difficult, like, yeah mafee was being mean to him for sure and trying to insult him into simply shutting tf up rather than like, actually responding to any of his points or doing anything but reinforcing them, but also winston has been Put Out by milder [negative responses] too, it’s of course more than just “i respect you too much to like, yell at you and try to diminish you”

and Frankly Winston Was Right and he may have been Indignant and he may not have been ~polite~ about it (though like, relative to how he is generally this Direct And Honest, there’s also not all that much evidence he’s deliberately trying to add some extra servings of Rudeness or anything) but once again like with the “as for not being a dick, i can’t absolute guarantee it” moment and the “fine, yes, big time” moment, and the “im sure it’ll go faster without the dead weight; Whoops ;)” moment, and the [talking about the algorithm problems] moment, and him freely jumping in with the “this plan might get us killed (not literally)” and “it’s b/c it sucks that they had to decapitate their dad, also not literally lol....although...” remarks, he’s just like, never afraid to tell taylor something that sure might not be the most pleasant for them to hear, and sure might not be something they Want to hear. and what’s Honest is that he’s Angry about this, and they won’t want to hear that and that they will even less want to hear his Honest Thoughts about why this is unfair, but he’s willing to say that to them, and even though we were like “haha boy winston if this isn’t fixed big time you might wanna quit :/” it’s also like, he must’ve trusted them to not wanna just fire him for lack of reverence to his ceo, and we can Juxtapose this with a) the scene that we’re set up to juxtapose it with, wherein a group of axe cappers carefully tell axe he’s being dumb as hell and might fuck all of them over, and axe tells them all to shut the fuck up b/c He Is Their Sun and he can do what he wants and get the fuck out of here, and we can also juxtapose it with b) winston being jumped on immediately in The Interview for ~lack of reverence~ to the potential employer, putting on this cocksure hotshot act (trying to..) and daring to express confidence in himself and be like “i should be interviewing you” / you should be selling to Me lol......jump to 4x11 and winston is caught off guard, he’s not putting on any kind of act, he’s not trying to appeal to anyone, sure mafee might turn it around on his [last we checked, the quant hates himself]ness, but this wasn’t about Winston Lashing Out b/c he’s angry at himself, he’s angry at Them for not valuing him, for what he perceives as them not even *really* giving them the option of the 60% Now approach, which sure seems to be justified seeing as apparently nobody but lauren goes for it and after winston invokes the Peer Pressure / pressure to seem Loyal / Committed by deferring, mafee immediately uses that [social pressure] to crush his dissent........where was i. right like. winston’s truly just Mad At Someone Else this time, he wouldn’t be here if his self-esteem was so low that he was immediately ready to just accept and absorb this treatment, and he Knows that taylor will actually listen to him which is their fuckin Mutual Respect thing and who tf else does that for him all the time, and he knows that taylor doesn’t value their own ego above everything else Unlike Some People, and he knows that he can be honest and get an honest reaction and that their honest reaction to his honesty is not “ugh you’re stupid / annoying / rude / etc,” b/c he’s Not, and that might be everyone else’s idea of him to some degree, but taylor Gets him better than that

and then you don’t quite have taylor being obviously Angry back, but they’re not exactly thrilled, and letting mafee go off on winston / effectively telling him they expect him to consider That the response and in turn respond back to that, can sure be interpreted as an expression of something a little short of pure goodwill and best intentions towards him here lol......again, i lol through the pain.......winston only has further reason to be angry, his Complaints weren’t resolved in the least and he came in all “i feel disrespected” and surely that’s only been doubled down on, b/c this isn’t Just “pay me goddamnit,” it’s really also just about the fundamental respect itself, which he figured that taylor cares about too, and so this would be something he could appeal to / expect them to earnestly.....he feels like none of them are being valued more than this feud with axe cap, he (maybe) feels like said feud is causing the quants’ work to be deprioritized in favor of more elaborate schemes based on “what will screw axe over specifically,” he feels like he’s not being valued as a Very Important Employee, he feels like this False Choice thanks to Social Pressure is insult to injury, like they’re not supposed to get a real chance to question this. boy i’m really just going off talking about any and all aspects of this huh, where’s the Anger Geography core here

well here it is: winston doesn’t ever talk to taylor in any more Filtered way due to them being his boss / him feeling a need to be more careful around them, if anything, they’re the one person he can be Least filtered around, b/c they care about What He Actually Means and aren’t all hung up on whether his communication style seems gratingly weird / wrong / offputting. winston isn’t bringing any particular leverage to this situation, yeah sure he pointed out He’s Valuable but he also did that in the interview with even less leverage and in the basement when he thought he was just working on some weird side project for axe cap in this remote quant dungeon - he’s counting on them to just Listen To Him and care about what he means, same as he always does and like they’ve done thus far. and he’s Temporarily Burned by this, which is tragic, but then 4x12 happens, and who knows if taylor and winston talked between these scenes at all cuz billions sure won’t say at all, but either way winston sure seems to pick up on the fact that taylor is responding to his Complaints here, the implication they were taking a too-axe-esque approach to them now answered by taylor deliberately differentiating themself from axe, and asserting that they Do value their employees and their contributions, and that taylor has this responsibility to them, and maybe Had gone astray there with the revenge jag but aren’t actually interested in that being the core of everything.........winston is Validated and we realize it and he seems to realize it lol, he definitely Was listened to, and he sure wasn’t like fired or anything, he Could Be Angry with them and that wasn’t going to lead to taylor wanting to sever even the Professional relationship or anything like that. sure seems to be no grudge held between them during the “q is for quantitative, babey” scene there lol and yeah it’s billions and shit moves fast / people will roll with A Lot of mistreatment apparently (see: winston also does not seem to harbor any grudge against mafee here lol but who knows) but the Fact Is, here they are, having found A Way Out Of [Anger], after having had this altercation which wouldn’t even have been possible if Winston hadn’t felt it was possible for them to interact like this, for him to be mad and be honest about that anger and the hows and whys of it and for that Not to be a dead end between them or something that could shatter the relationship entirely. and he was Validated!!!!

and guess who i also love to quote and paraphrase lol i also think of mariame kaba talking about interpersonal Conflict being possible Opportunities in a relationship, because working through said conflict can allow the relationship to grow / deepen / strengthen. which sure seems to Hold Hands with this idea: that you can Be Angry with someone because you already know that won’t break the relationship, and that even if you don’t already know that, going through that experience / process of Being Angry with someone and coming out the other side together will show that the relationship can handle that / will have involved gaining tools to be able to handle that going forward. and really like, we’ve seen winston Forgive taylor’s anger at him right off, and that may not be the sweeping heights of love but it came from Understanding (and....low self-es steam probably lol) but no really, he Shows that he understands why they reacted like that by behaving in this way that he figures is more in line with what they actually want, just talking and being direct with no boxes or [wags] or standard boring interview questions or posturing, showing he’s willing to work with them in the “please hire me” and “i’ll try to Behave” ways lol........and taylor is offering their own patience and sympathy and restraint and Understanding and willingness to bend.......things are happening on an emotional plane between them here.

and then after winston chooses to be on board with mase cap, and after he’s worked for them so long that it’s comp time baby, and after these few Sample Interactions we’ve seen in which taylor doesn’t cut winston down or show contempt for him and they continue to directly or indirectly validate him, winston can be Angry with them and taylor can (definitely Sorta) be Angry back, and winston surely even Stayed Angry after that scene in 4x11, and he didn’t quit, and was that [terrible self-esteem actually lol] or was it him believing that there could be a way out of this state of anger between him and taylor? both?? we get to decide!! b/c he’s sure not Validated and Vindicated until later lol.....what does he sit there on that couch alone in that room and Think in those moments...........and then once things Are better resolved, they have this whole [episode of conflict] in their history, and like is the whole Point of all of this, that’s hardly necessarily just some awful and unfortunate thing.......their relationship can survive something like that, and the conflict sure sparked this kind of Genuine Interaction between them which couldn’t have happened if winston just shied away from all this / kept it to himself because he didn’t think taylor would Listen or Care or Understand.

and it’s Not Just About The Money, and even when he expresses that he’s upset about this perceived disrespect / not being valued as an employee, we Know that he’s not someone who’s got this need to feel superior to everybody else / like he’s always Winning, and we know he’s not after Maximum Clout, but he does want to Work With taylor and he evidently wants to feel valued By Them, who does happen to be his boss and does have this avenue to potentially treat any employees unfairly. and we know that winston *knows* in this objective way how good his work is, and both winston and taylor have acknowledged that yeah, His Work / professional quantly ablities have value, so winston Knows he should expect for that to be valued in the form of “your quantributions are important and you’re getting paid to reflect that”........and that he feels like he’s for once not being Allowed Honesty re: everyone supposedly being pressured into deferring is like..........what do he and taylor have if not earnest, open communication b/c they both value and respect what the other Really Has To Say!!!!!! that’s winnie n tay and it’s also tayston.

which, speaking of which, Sidenote: when it comes to tayston hcs we generally have this as a “they’re not currently doing Their Thing at this point anyways, and maybe the fact that that’s been ended (and they Haven’t been talking through this particular conflict yet) is adding to the tension / anger / feeling of not being valued hahaha rip” deal lol, but also if they Were still currently in their fwb/[???]ship like obviously this would spill over and probably require an at-least-temporary halt to give everyone some space seeing as it’d be a little impossible to truly completely Set That Aside in the recent aftermath l o l ......but despite the lingering tension / awkwardness that would be present whenever they Do next meetup [imagine: an I Was On The Phone With You, Sweetheart phonecall prior to 4x12′s scene?? wrow] the layers to that ensuing sex lol......reunion sex? makeup sex? not-hate-sex-but-maybe-still-needing-to-vent-a-lil-Emotional-frustration-maybe sex? maybe all of the above and more

ANYWAYS even i don’t know why this is so long, and also it’s 7am. i definitely think that winston trusted taylor and the Relationship between them to be able to handle Anger (his, for once, lol) and for that Anger to even potentially be something Constructive. and he was right. and in 4x12 he’s there with them at the very end, wearing the tmc logo, standing behind them in the hellhole which is axe cap hq, knowing that taylor is the one person (here, certainly) who definitely Gets and who’s Got him, who’s asserted this loyalty and commitment to him after he’s certainly done that re: them, and once again winston definitely has this Choice to be here with them just like he must’ve had that choice to join up with their fund in the first place, he’s never been trapped with them or forced into alliance with them, and we just Know that he’s not choosing to be here just for Linkedin reasons / what’s best for career advancement and/or for raking it in as best as he can manage and/or for gaining clout and status or whatever, and we sure never see him reaping some kind of deluxe treatment/benefits just for being closely associated with taylor / having their approval. everything we see points to winston caring most about what happens between him and taylor and that he gets to work with them and that he’s here because of that mutual respect and value for each other.

and really, the show also repeatedly tells us that winston Does basically have these world-class abilities and *is* that valuable, and we know that winston Knows how good he is, and he must’ve legitimately had all those offers and known that he’s really good enough that these places Should compete for him. he must’ve known that he has this Potential here and all of these options laid out in front of him, and he takes taylor’s call and shows up in a basement for them and singlehandedly writes an algorithm good enough to found their fund upon and he follows them there when now he’s got this Proof of just how incredible his work is and could’ve leveraged that anywhere else. but his relationship with taylor has always had this personal aspect to it and the fact is that, even with his choice of Paths laid out in front of him, he chose and keeps choosing the geography of winnie n tay. Love. thank you and goodnight

#time to attempt a nap!!!! Them!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#winston billions #tayston #nothingunrealistic1

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misterbitches · 3 years

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Im not intelligent at all. In the conventional sense. The ramblings of a girl who just has sooo much going in in her head it's constant. But im not a genius. Or that confusing.

It just sounds like I am bc fandoms have this issue where they can JUSTSO point out the issues in soletiing. They can pick and prod and go oh problematic! But then you go to name the problems and the difficulties within society like for ex: the idea of representation in general. Salivating over it. How fucking sad that is. How we are trained to accept it. So in a BL and also RACE in the bl genre they exploit viewers naivete both domestically and internationally. Ive seen tons of people liken being asian to being a person of color. However, in their predominantly homogenous society (or intentionally publically homogenous society), they are not "poc" (also name the of color; i dont use bipoc idc if u do but it's called being asian guys cos yall aint talkin about black ppl lmao)

They as humans seeing other humans who look like them everywhere, engage with the world differently than an american in asia or asians living outside of their home country (like bae doo nanwhen she worksnin the US is not the same as the bae doo nanworking on a korean program) I dont complain about it in everything i see bc ppl say it ALL THE TIME. but it is NOT the same. Being a person of color is very distinctly an american concept. This is all stuff people will get to know on their own if they choose to dig more.

I do my best to underline what my ugly little eyes process. How i figure things out as a black female american artist too! Im hard on shit cos i should be. I take it seriously. And even if i dont take it seriously bc THEY dont then thats their problem.

I know this is a complaint that I am not alone in. I know it's the internet. I just don't get how people can write really heavy analysis but they refuse to actually probe the underlying issues. Not everyone is me, or like my friends, but if there's way fewer people talking about this stuff it seems absolutely glaring when theres few people engaging in the way i do. It seems like im the glitch but I am thinking just as much just differently.

I really loved where your eyes linger but there was little deep class analysis. I remember few convos a bout it. I know a lot about korea (sigh being a black ex kpop fan lol mess) and i love the history but all ofnit matters! Korea's relation to labor!

People bringing up thai actors snd actresses leaving the industry and doing acting as something quick. As an artist~ who went to film school with insanely wealthy ppl and isnin tons of debt you have to understand how shitty that is. People have monetary access and they just fucking do whatever just because they want to. Meanwhile you have young people being coerced into this bullshit mainstream life to LITERALY just make money bc they dont come from a rich background. The wealth gap in thailand is BAD, theres a dictatorship, they had a fucking coup. The governments like here do not respect their people. Their marginalized groups. Trans thai women, black thai ppl, poor thai ppl. And it LITERALLY CANNOT DO ANYTHING EFFECTIVELY IN CAPITALISM. No nothing can be perfect but if it's going into our eyeballs and we can view the worlld critically then why the fuck not!???

I dont say the things i see are wrong always. I reply when i think i need to. I try and engage with others but not to kuch avail. I just want to rb stuff and tdhink lajfhhdjwhjej.

But like yea theres a lot of just wrong or misguided stuff. A lot of the times it is just historical inaccuracy in framing or idk. A refusal to think outside the box. I dont care. Theres more to life than just sort of looking and not thinking especially for othrr artists.

Idk im sorry. I dont see how i can change how i view things. I really wish people would expand their palettes too and go deeper into other means of art from places! Things not in the mainstream! Theres a lot of good thai artists and a lot of them critical as fuck about their country as they should be. Authority, austerity, patriarchy, capital, racism etc like that is central to a power thats interested in growing gains and fiscal and social power. Theres rly radical or left leaning etc ppl out there in the world and these countries in these communities. So they exist. No people in these countries dont have NO clue whats going on. Cultural relativism is alsos something people should understand. I had a good talk with ppl on here a while ago about that. Talking about shit, critiquing, but being respectful to a group. Part of thay is realizing these groups CLEARLY know their own issues and all our cultures share the same goal. Guess what it is. It rhymes with acquiring wealth. Money means you hurt people. In the post, we talked about use of "wife" and "husband" which is a stupid joke that has been "explained" a billion times and yet the explanations still dont seem to answer or justify a minor problem (it's very funny to me that a language that doesnt have gendered pronouns is now very specific about two men. Hmmm wonder why. It is annoying.)

So im not the only person on the planet doing this. Or the few ppl ive seen that do. Im not new my thoughts arent new. Ive gotten to see another side to a culture i knew not much about and that means i can put the context of my beliefs and life and try and understand thheirs. For ex i learned from ITSAY because of a sign that said 'french food' that they were the only country to not be colonized back then. Do you know how integral that history is to their region? That was an interesting detail (i didnt finish itsay bc ihad a lot going on and i was rly upset that i would see hownrich they are and i hate that.)

Anyways thats my complaint. It used to feel like a sting of rejection. I left online for months in 2019, i started organizing more, joined a union, trying to do some panther work shit like that. I learned a lot in those months and it changed my life! But when I came back, I felt so isolated. It wasnt my true friends tho sometimes theyre ANNOYINGGGGG (love u) but it was me being like "if we are going to complain guys then lets put our money where our mouth is" lets be fucking serious about it then. No say it with your chest dude. It isnt difficult. Go with the fucking flow, talk about it, critique it, think. You can still fucking like itnor love it.

I am BLACK ok and i love rap. I am a black woman. I will continue to clown black men that cant seem to not clown themselves and listen. No i wont support monetarily: drake is a creep and i hate him but i bump that niggas song. Thats fucking LIFE. I got so sick of hiding myself and it became clear that it wasnt that i wasntthinking well or hard enough. They just didnt like that i said we need to commit class suicide and inspect out middle class sensibilities and middle class wealth hoarding (google it) if thats what we engaged with. Every part of you, antagonize it. I still have my privileges; class, skin color, even my father being a nigerian immigrant, me being cis, im not str8 but not a lesbian and those are differences.

Insecurities in general but some shallow thoughts (?) on discussion in "fandom" space. FYI, this will most likely stay the same. I tend to stay in my own bubble socially IE me and my friends are similar in our views. During this awful year while running my union's account, im surrounded by like minds. Me and my friends? We changed together. We grew up and saw what we didnt like and what we want. We do our best.And i CHOOSE my life to be that way bc it should be. There is no solution. I dont believe in solutions because the solution is to abolish capital or just divest. Abolishing capital and labor are a huge one and i will die before that happens (but so help me as long as im alive? Black women to FREEDOMMMM is my motto!) so making your own path in life is the best thing an artist can do IN MY OPINION.

However with technology and stuff this puts another layer onto things. Tech, social media, this shit....it THRIIIIIIIVESSSSSSS off of conflict and shallow readings of the world. We are literally primed for it. Engagement in bites. Impossible for me with my brain; i got used to it and i paid for it by limiting my scope. Not being encouraged to THINK AND READ before just speaking

(For ex i am in iww, i helped form a branch here. It is a radical union. Unionism is imprative to me-if ur interested u should read up on some. Look up peter cole! Google inthesetimes Ilwu. Gives you some understanding. Ive always been progressive and now i am....very left idk ic ant label myself. But even in my progrssiveness i had the gall to tell my white friend, whoa has her privileges but i had mine with our class disparity, that we dont need unions, i have WORKED retail. Ive done barista work for sonoing and i do gig work. So i wasnt out of touch. I had been stiffed even with a shoot i was working on by rich kids. So i had a frame of reference . But i didnt know what the FUCKa union was and why it is imperative. Then learning about anarcho syndicalism and all these other things. It changed my fucking life but two years earlier i was this idiot spouting shit like that making one of my best friends fucking upset. We DO AND CAN CHANGE. Think!!!!)

So were i a creator for tv id just constantly try and push the buttons if i need big money. Make them sell into me (thank you sonic youth!) theres Endless possibilities guys which means theres SO MUCH TK EXPLORE!!!! When i wanna have fun with it i just have fun. When i want to think i do. I dont understand why we are so dedicated to upholding things and doing mental gymnastics to end up in a space you dont need mental gymnastics for. What about these critiques makes you uncomfortable? Saying we're all part of the problem as spectators? Im sorry but we will always be. Thats LIFE. God fuck. Fuck me. I feel so fucking worthless and stupid sometimes. I know I am not. I know i am talented and intelligent. I know my friends and family. I know how to approach ppl. I know how to tell people if they are rich but want to be progressive whatsup. I choose how i live part of that is being ok to say what i want.

Ironically consrrvatives say this shit alot. But they arent ever alone bc their ideology is default. But yea it does feel shitty. It even feels shitty when ur in left circles but people STILL dont even wanna do that. These perspectives really arent ss many as they should be. I dont want to feel so alone with it. I know there are more. I just love art and the world so fucking much, endless possibility. Endless pain but endless good.

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whimsically-ominously-auspice · 4 years

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Marc Antony and Mercury expect terms to be met by Friday. 3 days says Mercury. Possibly by Friday says Marc.

So then listen. Stay inside.

We have 3 more planets along with planet Zulululu.

2 said "just kill them we don't want them"

2 others said they want their dead. So Marc and Team said they would send by air to certain meeting place. Marc warned them if they didn't find it acceptable there would be no war. He and I will kill the rest and they won't get any bodies at all and we will evaporate what we gave.

Beggars can't be choosers.

I will destroy a fucking planet that pisses me off. I'm very good at giving blind explosions of what is deserved. Sometimes they get good shit. Sometimes i blow up and destroy shit.

And so they are asking for something in my opinion don't deserve. Dead bodies? Fuck you. Youre lucky it was Marc. Im beyond pissed. But I'll let him do what he wants then I'll destroy shit cause i can.

I'm fucking pissed about this shit.

So yall Just stay inside. Don't get kidnapped. Don't get beaten up. Don't get molested. Don't get raped. Don't let an alien peep in your shower when you're nude and wet and soapy.

And just be extra cautious for the next 3 weeks.

This Friday he should be done with Mercury.

Then he will do each of the 4 planets one at a time.

After each planet is supposed to be complete he will wait 1 to two days to ensure everything is going well before he starts on the next task

He will make sure that Tree details y'all about progress.

So a total of 5 planets are left.

Now Mars is picking up its "sexual studs" trees are watching very closely and other than Mars our atmosphere is clear of aliens.

After all the 5 planets are completed we will then attack any UFO that enters our atmosphere.

And kill it. They're all on warned. So.

6 billion UFO are 900 billion kilometres away from the atmosphere of Earth. Not the land but the highest cloud/air layer we have.

They are Just spectators. 726 million UFOs are prepared to protect our planet with warnings and/or violence.

They are the closest to our atmosphere. As they have learned so much regarding aliens and relationships from Eaerth. So for their appreciation and desire to watch more progress we benefit from their love.

Still we will watch and protect. And even so.

Follow Quarentine.

Marc Antony has told Tree and asked him to write the underlying most important points of the reasons of Quarentine. And tree has also filled in the blanks. So. That is pinned up. So it's all about being at the top for your sake and ease.

So focus on those things. 85 points and reasons to focus on. How to retrain our minds. Allot of good information. We all really need

So remember to laugh at the memes i reposted two tonight.. One made Marc Antony really laugh - the gorilla. And the joke about the woman eating cats made me laugh more but he laughed too. I was worried about the Gorilla. Where was he? Did someone take care of him? Was he just playing?

But I appreciated the joke. I thought it was cute and I know at zoos that is actually a normal behavior.

Unfortunately...

Some people after 3 weeks pass. Will lose their animals. Some are possessed by aliens. There are 782,569,857 planets that will have their creation returned to them and possessing aliens will die.

What happens is an alien will share a body with an animal. Its prohibited and all planets know.

Then there is oysters. Which will be all dumped in the most luxurious of neighborhoods like it is a landfill.

Zebras. Ostrich. Orangutans. Chihuahua dogs (he literally sheds a tear. We know so many love that breed. But we will try to help you after your loss). Prarie dogs -- which we found dead in the yard todsy as a death threat against me. My 16 year daughter found it and pointed it out. So i loooked and asked it what it wanted and it said nothing. So i said don't look at me with your beady little eye which made my kid laugh. It was a bloody wet mess. Fuck y'all. I ain't scared I'll shove dead and living ones up your ass. Fredrick's grandma's best friend's daughter. Try a claw trying to come out your ass hole. Bitch. Coward bitch at that.

Some snakes like rattle. Coral. Most poisionous. No one would claim the King Cobra for example but they are part of a historical culture so we will save them for their owners as the poison is very hard to eject because it's midway down the body and not in teeth or head. We didn't know but I asked tree and he says it was a competitive snake Christopher Columbus made. He said please don't bully him. I have one on my wrist. So they are the ones that dance.

Grass snakes are made by Mercury as an apology. They will take.

We want only what Earth created. Its not about the apology we have enjoyed and used them for billions of years. So we gift them back as a thank you.

So they remember their sorrow in killing Cleopatra and Jesus 20 years later. (Me)

And as a request to please leave us alone in the future. They also made a poisonous snake called the Goldan Coerel. We eradicated it in the 1970s after it killed a sleeping infant. We just killed them all. They were mostly in Vietnam.

Dingo in Australia are not ours. But hey kangaroo is!!!

Rabbit is not. We will replace with either ducks or a chimpanzees. Or both. We use a distinct intuition. Like Santa Claus. Literally.

Like how i find space ships to blow up.

Now ALL animals are trained to use the toilet. And are infants. They come with a special cabinet and 1 year supply of food. And play toys and so on.

Chihuahua are replaced with chimps and/or a dog breed of choice.

There is a website you can type your animal into.

You can type your address like if you're like my dog is a mutt Idk how to find out... Well you put your address.

A Chihuahua of 25% breed and more will go

So if you have a small dog with only 3% Chihuahua. It stays.

Putting in the address allows you to create a family link. So you want a chimp. You pick the color.

So mom wants Orange

Dad brown orange.

Daughter 1 wants electric yellow.

So then tree will review... And make a bright orange with yellow when the hair is brushed a certain way and the brown like streaks

So he will decide and inform your family in the link then you can have other options.

If you don't preorder he will surprise you which he really likes to do.

So that is about 5 weeks away. You'll board the ship and say good bye. You may drive with them to the dock to drop off

All other animals stay home under Doctor Tree care where he trains it to use potty and speak and eat at the table,using fork ans spoon.

I have a list of 57 items that must be trained to each animal by tree. Now you can specify "no I do not want my dog asking more than 2x to borrow/drive car. In one day or 1 full trip on errands, or family road trip" otherwise he csn ask 35 times. But it's fun. He will sulk. Get angry. Beg happily. "Well I'll beat you up if You won't let me drive!!" "I hate the back seat why wont you let me drive?? I don't care. I don't wanna know. I just wanna Drive. Seesh parents don't understand anything!!"

So realize he may be speaking feelings but mostly its just acting and playing. Its a Trick or Treat.

Just yo Keep things lively. Fun. Kids will laugh and learn bullying and threatening does not work. They love it even teenagers.

Its play acting to develop healthy psychological prograss. So remember manners and don't let him drive because he intimidated or annoyed you. Unless you say trick or treat and have a family discussion

When he is violent in asking to drive he will have offensive driving skills. Fast and digging through traffic. And road rage m which is hilarious!

If you say yes to "but I'm an old gramma i know how to,get there m don't take away my rights I'm a perfect driver and omg watch out, just kidding." He will be super cautious and double checking. Driven 6-10 mph under the speed limit.

Its fun. Tree will train it to be humaneyezed.

So he will give advice. Like "watch the fuck out!" In road rage mode. While granny will say "hey there little dearies you almost wrecked. Slow it down buster"

My pill is saying time to sleep.

3-5 weeks to spend with your pet before we evacuate.

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