Isn't there a really dodgy bit in Why Does He Do That? I read somewhere that it says a man who says he's being abused is the abuser in a relationship, which... no, male victims of domestic abuse exist too...
Yes. I was actually going to post about this.
It’s not just a “dodgy bit”. There are multiple points at which he says things that I didn’t care for.
The “male abuse victims are probably lying” thing is is the biggest flaw in the book, but the book is still absolutely vital, and people should still read and recommend it. Full stop. Because a thing is flawed does not mean it has no value and should not be circulated to those people that it could help. If the book were less shockingly accurate and unflinching in its portrayal of abusive men, if it were less good in the ways that it is good, perhaps I would feel more hesitation.
I’ve read basically the whole thing so far (I’m about 20-30 pages from the end in the PDF), and here’s the deal.
He doesn’t say unilaterally that men lie about being abused. He says that abusive men lie about being abused by women. It’s a fine distinction, and not really much better, but I want to be clear that that is what he is saying. Not that men lie about all abuse, but that they lie about being abused by women. Abusive men, especially, will tell this lie to get the upper hand.
Based on what he has seen after dealing with a couple thousand men who abuse women, I do not doubt that this is true.
But he seems to think the number of abused men is smaller than the number of abusive men who are lying about being abused. Even if that is true, abused men are not acceptable collateral damage. It’s not okay to act like the issue isn’t important just because liars exist.
He uses SOME qualifying language. I’m not going to go digging for it, but it’s along the line of “Male victims of domestic violence are really rare compared to the number of female victims.” After that he kind of treats it like they either don’t exist, or the fact that they do is irrelevant in the face of the much more widespread problem of men who abuse women. I won’t lie, that’s not good.
To be frank, he does not seem all that aware of social justice issues the way that all us gigantic queers on Tumblr are. His awareness of LGBT issues is peripheral. When he says “men” and “women”, he definitely means “cis men” and “cis women”. And the book definitely reads like a book written by a cis dude to me. But honestly, this is a book that only a cis dude could have written, because only a cis dude could have worked with other (cis) men the way he has, and it is precisely that experience that makes it so valuable.
The fact that he’s biased doesn’t mean he is talking out his ass the rest of the time. He’s not. At the time of publication (2002) he had worked with over two thousand abusive men whose targets were women. He pioneered recovery programs for these men. He was the first to really get down and work with them on a daily basis, both in group and personal therapy settings. And that experience shows.
No. He really really doesn’t understand abused men.
But he understands abusive men. Specifically, he understands men who abuse women.
On the one hand, it’s given him an unprecedented level of insight into abusers’ mindsets, and that is so valuable.
On the other, the graphic and awful examples he has seen of men who are lying to get themselves out of trouble or justify their behavior have definitely colored his views of male victims. These men – men, I emphasize, referred to him by the legal system, meaning they were entirely confirmed abusers – WERE almost always lying about it. I think he mentions two exceptions? And yeah, that sounds like shit abusers fucking do. I believe him.
Within his setting, within his sample, I believe he is 100% correct in his assessment – abusers are likely to be lying about having suffered partner violence.
That setting absolutely is not the rest of the world, and I think he loses sight of that, if he ever had sight of it to begin with. That’s a terrible flaw.
Another flaw is that it gives very little face-time to same-sex relationship abuse. It goes into it a little, and does it a little ham-handedly but not too badly, but mostly it gets ignored.
Rather than raise these issues at all and then doing it badly, I wish he had said “The issue of abuse in LGBT relationships, as well as the issue of women abusing men, is sadly beyond the scope of my experience, and therefore this book is not about those issues.”
There is nothing wrong with focusing on one aspect of the issue of intimate partner violence. That he did so is not a bad thing. The bad thing that he did is to treat the rest of it like a non-issue, when it isn’t, and that he said some things that encourage the reader to be generally suspicious of men who say that women have abused them. Those are bad things.
Would I recommend it to a man who is being/was abused by a woman? No no no. Absolutely not. Those dynamics are completely different, and the abuse is likely to look very different, and I feel like very little of it will be accessible to someone in that situation. I think it would do more harm than good.
Would I recommend it to someone in a non-cishet relationship? Maybe, but probably not, unless I had a little insight into the relationship and felt like it would be a good match.
Would I still recommend it to women, or to people who want a general understanding of the dynamics between abusive cis men and abused women? YES. YES A THOUSAND TIMES.
The book is not “good” in a morally/ideologically pure, okay? It is flawed. But for what it is, which is a book about men who abuse women, it is very good.
He is on the side of abused women, all the fucking way. And that is still an astonishingly rare thing to find.
It validates the experiences of women abused by men by showing different types of abusive behavior and different types of abuser. He says at multiple points “If you’re wondering whether it’s abuse, then it probably is.” And that is still such a radical, necessary, healthy and badly-needed thing to say.
I’m not going to defend the way he treats the issue of abused men, or abuse in LGBT relationships, He barely deals with these issues at all, and when he does, it’s halfhearted at best and actively regressive at worst. In that regard, it’s shitty. If that is what you are needing, this book won’t give it to you.
I am going to defend it as an excellent starting place for women abused by men, or in toxic almost-abusive relationships with them.
I would prefer it not be flawed, and if it has to be flawed, I would prefer it come with a disclaimer, but I would rather it circulate flawed and without a disclaimer of any kind that fail to reach someone who really, really needs it.
We could be waiting a long time for a better, more inclusive book to come out. There’s not time to wait. This book is needed now. TODAY.
That said, I am always glad to reblog helpful resources for abused men, or for people in non-cishet relationships, if you know of any. I would love to know about comparable GOOD books for LGBT people, if you know any, or would love to know about GOOD books written for male victims of domestic violence.
Drawing and painting her way through an imaginative landscape of intricate and visual entanglements is Austin native, Sophie Roach. Her artwork has endlessly covered surfaces from– guitars, beer cans, Vans, to entire rooms. And if that isn’t already insanely rad, her organic approach and laid back attitude make her not only incredibly humble, but also a super awesome collaborator. While finishing up one mural and starting up new projects, we had the chance to ask Sophie a few questions about her art, her career, and her approach – from finding her voice, attacking a mural, to digging the quietude one might find as a mail person hah!
Except for the whole murder thing, Courtney James seemed like a lovely young woman. She was bright, articulate, a dedicated college student and well liked waitress at a popular restaurant.
I met her when she was sitting in an interrogation room at the precinct. She was a bit on the larger side, dressed conservatively in pastel colors and minimal makeup, and when I came in, she introduced herself with a polite smile, as if we were meeting for a job interview as opposed to a police investigation. She had declined to have an attorney present, so I got right to business.
The Twins’ Relationship with Ginny is Highly Underrated
It’s great to watch it develop over the course of the series.
up!” their mother said, and the three boys clambered onto the train. They
leaned out of the window for her to kiss them good-bye, and their younger
sister began to cry.
“Don’t, Ginny, we’ll send you
loads of owls.”
“We’ll send you a Hogwarts’ lavatory
“Only joking, Mum.”
train began to move. Harry saw the boys’ mother waving and their sister, half
laughing, half crying, running to keep up with the train until it gathered too
much speed, then she fell back and waved.
Fred and George challenged Harry and Ron to a few games of Exploding Snap, and Ginny sat watching them, very subdued in Hermione’s usual chair.
“What do we want to be prefects for?” said George, looking revolted at the very idea. “It’d take all the fun out of life."
"You want to set a better example for your sister!” snapped Mrs. Weasley.
“Come on, Ron, you were always saying how boring Scabbers was,” said Fred bracingly. “And he’s been off-color for ages, he was wasting away. It was probably better for him to snuff it quickly — one swallow — he probably didn’t feel a thing.”
“Fred!” said Ginny indignantly.
wizards were dashing from every direction toward the source of the trouble. The
crowd beneath the Roberts family was coming ever closer.
said Fred, grabbing Ginny’s hand and starting to pull her toward the wood.”
Fred, George, and Ginny came to sit next to them too, and Harry was having such a good time he felt almost as though he were back at the Burrow.
“Oh, hello, Harry!” said
Ron’s younger sister, Ginny, brightly.
“I thought I heard your
to Fred and George, she said, “It’s no-go with the Extendable Ears, she’s
gone and put an Imperturbable Charm on the kitchen door.”
“Asleep, yeah, right,” said Fred in an undertone, after Hermione bade them goodnight and they were climbing to the next floor. “If Ginny’s not lying awake waiting for Hermione to tell her everything they said downstairs then I’m a flobberworm…”
“Yeah, size is no guarantee of
power,” said George. “Look at Ginny.”
George and Ginny were doing a kind of war dance to a chant that went: “He
got off, he got off, he got off…"
"He got off, he got off, he got off…”
“That’s enough - Fred - George - Ginny!” said Mrs. Weasley, as Mr. Weasley left the kitchen.
Fred, George and Ginny were still singing. "HE GOT OFF, HE GOT OFF, HE GOT OFF-“
"SHUT UP!” roared Mrs. Weasley.
Fred and George still looked mutinous. Ginny, however, took a few steps over to the nearest chair and sank into it. […] The twins glared at Sirius for another minute, then took seats either side of Ginny.
“Come on, Ginny’s not bad,” said George fairly, sitting down next to Fred. “Actually, I dunno how she got so good, seeing how we never let her play with us."
"She’s been breaking into your broom shed in the garden since the age of six and taking each of your brooms out in turn when you weren’t looking,” said Hermione from behind her tottering pile of Ancient Rune books.
“The thing about growing up with Fred and George,” said Ginny thoughtfully, “is that you sort of start thinking anything’s possible if you’ve got enough nerve.”
“Hey,” said a voice in Harry’s ear. He looked round; Fred and George had come to join them.
“Ginny’s had a word with us about you,” said Fred, stretching out his legs on the table […]
“Luna and I can stand at either end of the corridor,” said Ginny promptly, “and warn people not to go down there because someone’s let off a load of Garrotting Gas."
Hermione looked surprised at the readiness with which Ginny had come up with this lie; Ginny shrugged and said, "Fred and George were planning to do it before they left.”
“Excuse me, but I care what happens to Sirius as much as you do!” said Ginny, her jaw set so that her resemblance to Fred and George was suddenly striking.
There you go,“ said Fred proudly. "Best range of love potions you’ll find anywhere."
Ginny raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Do they work?” she asked.
“Certainly they work, for up to twenty-four hours at a time depending on the weight of the boy in question…"
"… and the attractiveness of the girl,” said George, reappearing suddenly at their side. "But we’re not selling them to our sister,“ he added, becoming suddenly stern, "not when she’s already got about five boys on the go from what we've…"
"Whatever you’ve heard from Ron is a big fat lie,” said Ginny calmly, leaning forward to take a small pink pot off the shelf. “What’s this?"
"Guaranteed ten-second pimple vanisher,” said Fred. “Excellent on everything from boils to blackheads, but don’t change the subject. Are you or are you not currently going out with a boy called Dean Thomas?"
"Yes, I am,” said Ginny. “And last time I looked, he was definitely one boy, not five. What are those?”
She was pointing at a number of round balls of fluff in shades of pink and purple, all rolling around the bottom of a cage and emitting high-pitched squeaks.
"Pygmy Puffs,” said George.
“Miniature puffskeins, we can’t breed them fast enough. So what about Michael Corner?"
"I dumped him, he was a bad loser,” said Ginny, putting a finger through the bars of the cage and watching the Pygmy Puffs crowd around it.
“They’re really cute!”
"They’re fairly cuddly, yes,“ conceded Fred.
"But you’re moving through boyfriends a bit fast, aren’t you?” Ginny turned to look at him, her hands on her hips. There was such a Mrs. Weasley-ish glare on her face that Harry was surprised Fred didn’t recoil.
“And speaking of hitherto unsuspected skills, Ronald,” said George, “what is this we hear from Ginny about you and a young lady called — unless our information is faulty — Lavender Brown?”
“Then, as Charlie isn’t coming home, that just leaves Harry and Ron in the attic, and if Fleur shares with Ginny —"
"— that’ll make Ginny’s Christmas —” muttered Fred.
Under cover of a particularly jazzy number called “A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love,” Fred and George started a game of Exploding Snap with Ginny.
Admittedly, it took very little to set her off lately; she had been crying on and off ever since Percy had stormed from the house on Christmas Day with his glasses splattered with mashed parsnip (for which Fred, George, and Ginny all claimed credit).
Ginny was now climbing through the hole in the wall, closely followed by Fred, George, and Lee Jordan.
“She’s sixteen!“ shouted Mrs. Weasley.
"She’s not old enough! What you two were thinking bringing her with you—”
Fred and George looked slightly ashamed of themselves.
Prompt: Fred and George ask the reader to smell a love potion and when she can only associate the scent with George she refuses to tell them.
Warning: None, fluff.
“Y/n, our dearest darling friend, we’re in need of your assistance.” Peeking out from over your essay you found a set of two feet standing in front of you. There was no need to look up, your accusation was confirmed by the mismatched socks. The Weasley twins hardly sorted out their clothes and snagged the closest, cleanest smelling, item they could find and threw them on. Also over half their socks had holes in them causing their big toes to break free from the rest of their friends.
There was also the towering shadow that casted over you that gave away their identity as well. The boys beat you in height by a mile- or rather so at least a foot. If you walked by their side travailing to and from classes, you were jogging half the time and out of breath when reaching your destination. Not to say this was out of the ordinary or loathed, you enjoyed working overtime to keep up with the boys. Besides by the end of the day you had reached two days’ worth of cardio and were all set.
“Oh no. What have you two gotten yourself into now?” You rose an eyebrow at the pair. On look at them and there was no question about it, they were up to no good. George had his hands behind his back and look slightly bothered. You set your homework down on the table in front of you and went to ask him if he was alright but Fred started in instead.
Warnings: Underage drinking, drug use, sensuality, sexual implications, and language
A/N: Y/O/B/F/N= your other best friend’s name
“Why didn’t I skip class today?” Mandy groaned, throwing her head back.
“Because if you got caught skipping again, you would get suspended…again,” Lip muttered behind her.
They were sitting in their eighth period British Lit class while Mr. O’Neil talked about some dead poet. Lip was only paying half attention since he already knew most of the information and he got good grades without even trying. He had a few more important things on his mind like Fiona and his other siblings and the trouble he and Ian could get into over the weekend. However, the other kids in the class could hardly afford zoning out in the way he did.
“…and that is how Edgar Allen Poe invented the modern detective story,” Mr. O’Neil concluded with a small smile under his wiry gray mustache. “Now, before you leave, I have to return your midterm essays.”
“What’s the point? I know I failed,” Mandy muttered.
“You never know. You could’ve gotten a D this time.”
Lip smirked as Mandy turned around to slap his arm. It stung a little, but Lip laughed it off.
“We can’t all be weird geniuses like you.”
“Most of you did not seem to grasp the concept I was looking for, which is confusing since all I requested was for you to dissect and analyze a piece of literature we previously discussed in class,” Mr. O’Neil said as he began handing back papers.
A lot of the kids rolled their eyes, laughed, or groaned when they received their papers. It took a minute for Mr. O’Neil to get to Mandy and Lip.
“I expect more from you, Miss Milkovich,” Mr. O’Neil said.
“Have you met my brothers?” Mandy retorted.
Mr. O’Neil cast a distaste look in her direction, but recovered a little as he handed Lip his paper. “Very good work, Mr. Gallagher.”
“Thank you, Mr. O’Neil,” Lip said.
Scrawled on top of his paper was a 90 along with the comment “Good work, Mr. Gallagher. Your input was interesting but the dissections were a bit off.”
“Not bad, Gallagher,” Mandy muttered.
Lip couldn’t help but feel a little proud of himself. He was always the smartest person in the room, even though the room primarily consisted of idiots. It was nice to be reminded of it.
“Miss Y/L/N, I was quite impressed with your work. I have never read such original or thoughtful input on Emily Dickinson.”
The girl had a small, wan smile on her lips as she accepted her paper. “Thanks, Mr. O’Neil.”
“In fact, you scored the highest on this assignment.”
Y/N smiled shyly yet again and muttered a polite “thanks” to the teacher as she placed her essay neatly in her English folder.
“Looks like Little Miss Perfect beat you out,” Mandy teased in a whisper.
“I’ll let her have it, this is probably the only pleasure she gets out of life besides reading and studying all the time,” Lip muttered.
Y/N Y/L/N had to be the most innocent girl Lip had ever encountered and she was also his biggest competition when it came to academic standing. She was smart as a whip, but she didn’t flaunt it like Lip did sometimes. In fact, she mostly kept to herself, save for the two girls Lip saw her hanging around. Y/N was every parent’s wet dream: quiet, polite, kind, and a bit of an over achiever. She was the class president, captain of the debate team, and captain of the girl’s tennis team. In fact, the only trouble she probably got in was for jaywalking. Lip didn’t really have anything against her but he also didn’t really like competition.
Finally, Mr. O’Neill released them, and Mandy and Lip were the first two out of the classroom.
“Just admit it, Lip, you don’t like that Goody Two Shoes beat you out for the highest grade,” Mandy said.
“It’s just a stupid essay, Mandy, besides, getting good grades is probably the only way Y/N could experience an orgasm,” Lip said.
Mandy burst out laughing and Lip smirked deeply. “That is true, I don’t think Y/N would know what to do with a dick if she ever saw one.” As Mandy and Lip laughed, they were interrupted by someone running into Lip.
“Hey, watch where the f–ck you’re going,” he snapped.
“Oh, sorry!” Y/N squeaked.
Lip instantly regretted his words when he saw how Y/N clutched her book to her chest. “It’s fine, forget about it.” “Hey, Y/N,” Mandy said.
“Hey, Mandy.” Y/N readjusted the strap of her messenger bag. “Have any fun plans for this weekend?”
“I might go to a party or two. You?”
“I am keeping my options open.”
“Y/N!” Y/B/F/N yelled from across the hallway.
Y/N sighed a little. “I have to go, sorry about running into you like that, Lip.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Y/N hurried off to meet her friend on the other end of the hallway and they immediately began giggling together. Y/B/F/N said something to Y/N that made her eyes widen and take a quick glance at Lip. When she saw that he was looking at her, she quickly turned back around to her friend, who began snickering.
“Hello, earth to Lip?” Ian asked.
“What?” He turned to face Ian and Mandy.
“I was asking if we were still going to Rose Martin’s party tonight,” Ian said.
“Why wouldn’t we be?”
“Because it’s in Old Town and we’re south side trash.”
“Hey, we’re only trash if we think we’re trash, so stop thinking we’re trash,” Lip said.
“Fine. Now tell me, what had you so distracted that you couldn’t answer me?” Ian asked.
Mandy smirked. “It was because of her wasn’t it?”
“Who?” Ian asked.
“Shut up, Mandy,” Lip said.
“Y/N, Lip’s got a thing for her,” Mandy said.
“Y/N Y/L/N? The same girl who cried when Eddie Carver kicked a baby rabbit over the school fence?” Ian asked.
“That was third grade,” Lip said. “And I don’t like her like that.” “Why not? Because she’s too good for you?” Ian teased.
“No, because she’s too f-cking innocent. It would be like being with a little kid all the time,” Lip muttered.
“I would believe you if you hadn’t been eye-f-cking her a second ago.”
Lip didn’t respond, and he didn’t really know why he had gotten so defensive when Ian and Mandy began suggesting that he liked Y/N. He barely spoke to her except in passing and there was no way she would go for a Gallagher of all people. Somehow, he still found himself attracted to her innocent, shy nature. He would ruin her and she didn’t deserve that.
Late that night, the party was in full swing at Rose Martin’s penthouse in Old Town, Chicago. Her father had won the lottery two months ago, so the penthouse was filled with gaudy art, strange mini statues that were considered art, and stainless, techy everything. Waka Flocka’s “It’s A Party” was blasting through the speakers as teenagers grinded to the beat throughout the penthouse. In the kitchen, a group of people were playing drinking games; the bathroom was dedicated to cocaine; the bedrooms were used for coitus; and the balcony was for the cigarette and pot smokers. Lip, Ian, and Mandy were in the living room in the middle of the chaos, dancing as they drank. Lip was near the threshold of being drunk, but was still in the place where the colorful lights didn’t transfix him and he still had control of himself.
“This is the best night ever!” Mandy shouted over the music.
Ian and Lip shouted in response before they toasted her words and downed the vodka in their cups. It went down smooth since Rose could afford not to scrimp on the alcohol anymore.
“I love Rose Martin!” Ian exclaimed.
“You can’t, you don’t swing that way!” Lip shouted back.
Lip and Mandy burst out laughing. In the midst of the madness, Mandy ended up grinding with some guy and Ian disappeared. Lip ended up wandering out of the living room and went outside to light up a cigarette. The sky was completely ink black with a few stars scattered in the mix. A few people were smoking pot or cigarettes around the balcony. In the corner was a group of girls wearing short dresses and skirts, giggling. One of them looked extremely familiar to Lip but he couldn’t put his finger on it. She flipped her y/hc ponytail and burst out laughing at something before turning around. Lip nearly dropped his cigarette.
“Y/N?” he whispered.
She was wearing an oversized blue button down shirt that managed to accentuate her curves with a pair of black over the knee boots. Her hair was pulled in a ponytail with a few strands falling around her face, which was made up in a tasteful fashion with gold eyeshadow bringing out her y/e/c eyes and blush to compliment her skin tone. She was holding a plastic cup filled with white wine and her friends had sneaky smiles on their faces when they saw Lip.
“Lip!” Y/N stumbled over to him, managing not to spill a drop of her wine. “It’s so good to see you.”
“What are you doing here?” Lip asked.
“Drinking.” Y/N took a long swig of her drink to prove her point.
“I can see that, it’s just, this isn’t really your scene.”
“I guess you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” She managed to smolder at him which managed to both amuse and arose Lip at the same time.
“How many of those have you had?” Lip asked.
“Don’t worry about it, Dad, I can handle my alcohol, see?” Y/N downed the rest of her wine and smiled.
“Maybe you should go back to your friends.”
“I’m sick of them, I want to talk to you.” Y/N leaned more of her weight into Lip and he paused to grab her.
He kept his lit cigarette between his lips as he pulled her to stand upright. “Fine, let’s talk.”
“Can I try one of those?”
“Why would you want to smoke?” Lip asked.
“Because I can.”
Lip looked at her skeptically before handing her cigarette and lighting it for her. Of course, Y/N almost immediately began coughing, making everyone turn to look at her and Lip. Lip shook his head as he patted her back.
“You have to inhale deeper before you exhale, like this.” Lip showed her and Y/N nodded before following his lead. “See, it’s easy.”
“Thanks,” Y/N said.
“Geez, I feel like I’m corrupting you.”
“You’re not. I’ve done a lot more than you think I have.”
“What does that mean?”
Unfortunately, Lip was interrupted by the strains of “Hips Don’t Lie” coming from inside. Y/N squealed. “I love this song!”
She tossed her cigarette down and ground it out with her toe before hurrying inside.
“Y/N.” Lip got rid of his cigarette as well and followed Y/N’s lead.
He almost immediately lost her but quickly spotted her dancing with Ian. They had created some sort of salsa two-step that mostly consisted of Ian twirling Y/N around and dipping her. Though Lip trusted Ian, he couldn’t help but feel protective over Y/N. It was strange how worrying about her sobered him up.
“You’re being ridiculous; you barely know her,” he hissed to himself.
He decided he needed another drink and headed into the kitchen. That’s where he found Mandy, mixing drinks at the kitchen counter while another group of people played flip cup.
“Hey, stranger,” Mandy said as she poured a drink into a glass.
“What made you hide out in here?” “Tyler Sanders’ hands kept wandering to places I did not want them to. I decided to see how good of a bartender I am.” Mandy handed him the glass she just poured.
“Thanks.” He took a sip. “Not bad, what is it?”
“Of course. Did you know that Y/N was coming?”
“No, but I saw Y/O/B/F/N leave the bathroom wiping her nose and figured Y/N had to be around somewhere. She is full of surprises.”
“Yeah,” Lip muttered.
“Do I need to make you another drink?”
“That sour look on your face wouldn’t have anything to do with Y/N being into the party scene, right?”
“Not really, it’s just weird seeing her drunk.”
“I like it, it makes her more relatable. She’s not better than either of us.”
“Of course she’s not. She goes to a Chicago public school.”
“True, but maybe you’re so weirded out by it because you liked the idea of her being super innocent and you don’t like that you can’t be her first, well, whatever.”
He hated how right Mandy was sometimes. While it was kind of cool to see Y/N let lose, Lip kind of liked the idea of making her do something bad just for him. He had no idea when those feelings started but seeing her act so drunk was bringing them out.
After a couple more drinks, he and Mandy made their way back into the living room, where Y/N and Ian were the center of attention. It made sense since the openly gay Gallagher was grinding with the supposed sweetheart of the south side.
“Y/N’s got moves,” Mandy said.
“Uh huh,” Lip said, trying to ignore the tinges of jealousy creeping up on him.
However, everything came to a head when Y/N pulled Ian close and they began making out, causing everyone to scream and yell. That was the last straw. Lip quickly broke them up, much to the crowd’s chagrin.
“What the hell, Lip?” Ian demanded.
“Ian, you don’t know what you’re doing, you’re drunk and you have a boyfriend,” Lip hissed.
“Not really, besides, Y/N’s a good kisser. Were you jealous?” Ian shot back.
“Jealous? Why would you be jealous?” Y/N slurred. Then she grinned. “You wanna dance with me, Lip?”
She wrapped her arms around Lip’s neck and leaned into him. Lip’s arms immediately wrapped around her waist out of instinct but he didn’t start dancing. Mandy and Ian had begun dancing together somewhere else in the room.
“Y/N, you’re drunk.”
“I wanna dance.” She turned around in Lip’s arms and began grinding against him, leaning her head against his chest.
Lip gulped before hesitantly grinding with her, holding her hips and keeping her pressed against him. He didn’t know what got into him but he began kissing down the side of her neck. Then, he turned her to face him and grabbed her face in his hands and really looked at her. Her eyes were completely dilated but she was so beautiful.
“I can’t do this.”
“Do what? Dance with me?” Y/N teased.
“Not just that, it’s, you’re too perfect. You deserve better than this, better than me.”
Lip moved to pull away from Y/N, but she grabbed him. Her eyes held a deep sincerity in them, albeit they were extremely dilated.
“You’re perfect,” she said with a large smile.
“Yes, but I know that you’re funny, really smart, and loyal, a little impulsive, and a bit self-destructive. And you’re daring and really, really, really hot,” Y/N said.
“You really think all that about me?”
Y/N nodded. “Ever since second grade, but I thought I wasn’t cool enough for you, but I do go out sometimes and I have made many questionable decisions.”
Lip had a lot of questions, a majority of which had to do with what questionable decisions Y/N had made. But, all he could think about was how Y/N thought she wasn’t good enough for him.
“You’re cool in your own way.”
“Now that’s a load of bullsh-t.” Y/N started laughing, a sound that made Lip smile.
He cupped her face in his hands again and slowly, she stopped laughing. Lip stayed quiet and leaned towards her slowly. Y/N closed her eyes, awaiting to be kissed only to be surprised when Lip kissed her on her forehead.
“You missed,” Y/N said.
“No. I want you to remember the first time I kiss you and you’re way too sh-tfaced to do that right now. If you still feel the same way about me when you’re sober, we can pick up where we left off.”
“But I want you now. I promise I won’t regret it.”
Lip didn’t listen to any of her protests as the night went on. So, they continued dancing, earning winks and rude gestures from Ian and Mandy. When the party was over, Lip took Y/N home to make sure she was safe.
“But who’s gonna walk you home?” Y/N asked as Lip helped her walk up the steps.
“Why do you get to walk yourself home and not me?”
“For one thing, I wouldn’t fall if you let go of my shoulders,” Lip said.
Y/N huffed and leaned against her front door. Lip fished her keys out of her purse and unlocked the door for her.
“All right, now be quiet. The last thing we need is your parents coming after me.”
Y/N nodded and wrapped her arms around Lip’s neck, giggling quietly. Before Lip could stop her, she pressed a sloppy kiss to his cheek before pulling away. “Good night, Lip.”
She slipped into her house and Lip closed the door behind her.
All he could do now was pray that she felt the same way about him in the morning.
Imagine, you just got out of Belle Rêve and he wants to put a baby up your belly.
It was 00h37 when you arrived at J’s house. Tiredness was dripping from all the pores of your skin. Escaping Belle Rêve was harder than you though it would be. At some point you even stop believing it was possible. Guards were surrounding you from everywhere, Mr J’s men were all getting killed.
When you it was sure in your head that you were going back into your cage tonight, a helicopter came out of nowhere and drop you a rope. Holding you firmly by your waist, J hoist the both of you up to safety, bullets charging at you from everywhere.
The helicopter drop you off when you were in a safe perimeter. A car was waiting for you. You climbed in it while J killed the pilot. You were happy to see that he thought of bringing you clothes to changes. You went in the backseat so you had more place to change before going back in the front. You pulled down the window and pitched the orange uniform as hard as you could.
It took 15 hours of driving before arriving at J’s house. 15 hours of driving in pure silence. He wasn’t saying a word, you weren’t either.
When the Rover pulled up the entry of the mansion, the sun was beginning to go down, J told you to not wait for him, that he’ll be back later in the night. You didn’t ask any questions, you didn’t have the force to, and even if you had your brain wouldn’t have registered his answer.
You climbed off the vehicle, and went directly inside, to your room, more precisely, while you heard him putting the car on reverse and leaving the manor. Getting out of your stained blood clothes, you slipped yourself under the cover of the bed you share with J.
The smooth mattress under you felt so good after the year you passed slipping on the floor that you can’t help yourself: as soon as your head touch the pillow, you fell asleep.
You were put out of your sleep, maybe some hours later, you didn’t know, by a sticky and hot substance that was running down your cheeks. You were laying down on your side by the window, so the sticky stuff was going all over your lips.
Still light-headed and not really sure of what was happening, you just ran your tongue over your lips. When the viscous substance touched your taste buds, you knew exactly what it was. You opened your eyes immediately and raised yourself up. You turn yourself on the left side and come face to face with J, who had is hard-purplish meat in between is hand.
His torso was raising up and down in a fast speed, his eyes closed and a little smile tucking his lips softly. His boxer were only down at the middle of his thighs. Humidity was starting to make its way into your panties, but you shook your head, furious.
“What the fuck J!”
When your voice reach is ears, his blue eyes finally come into sight.
“What? I had blue balls for almost a year, I needed little relief.”
“But were you really obligated to cum on my motherfucking cheek?! I was finally having a good damn night of sleep!” You said, rage spilling out of you.
“I jacked off so often to your pictures that they are all ruined now.”
“Oh please, you’re worse than a fucking teenager.”
“Don’t speak like that to me. You never complained before.”
“J, I just spend 9 fucking months in jail sleeping on the goddamn floor. Is it too hard to ask from you to just leave me alone for one goddamn night? Just cum into your fucking pillow.”
Suddenly, your cheeks were caught in his right hand, putting your mouth awkwardly forward. His eyes were getting cloudy with anger. He was slowly gritting his teeth, the metal of it making a sound that gave you goosebumps all over.
“Listen to me you little brat. You are not allowed to speak to me on that tone. You are not allowed tell what to do with my fucking dick. If I want to mark you like a fucking dog who mark a tree by pissing on it, I’ll fucking do it. Do you understand?”
He was so calm compared to his eyes, it was scary. You didn’t want to answer.
“ANSWER!” He screamed.
“J? Wow, they really had fun with you in there, hey? So much you forget who I was. I should give you a spanking for that. But I’ll give you one more chance. Yes-who?”
You didn’t want a spanking. At least, not tonight.
He gave you a smile. You gave him one in return.
“Good girl. Now undress and get on your hands and knees.”
You smile slowly faded to an uncertain look.
“What, but Daddy I did everything you asked!”
He gave you a malicious smile. He just win a hiding game he had been playing.
Knowing that if you didn’t do it, the consequences would’ve been worse, you did what you were told. Getting out of bed, the coldest of the room came rushing at you, making the hair of your arms raising. Your back was facing him so you couldn’t see the expression on his perfect face when you pull up your shirt, revealing your braless torso. You began to slowly slide down your burgundy velour short along with your lilac laced panties.
You turned on your heels, coming face to face with Mr. J, whose eyes was eating you alive. You could see the lust in them, the desire to swallow you in one shot. His cock had already took a deep red color and was able to support itself by its own.
Some liquid was already showing at the tip and you couldn’t help yourself at the sight: you squeezed your thighs to get some friction. Its only when you did that that you realised how wet you were. You could feel it running shamelessly down your legs. A deep shade of pink appeared and colored all of your face.
You hided yourself behind your (h\c) hair.
“Don’t be shy baby. You weren’t before you left.”
You stay still.
“What? You became a prude in there? Your baby hole got closed up? You suck a dick to deep you busted your vocal cords?”
You bite your lips at his obscene words.
“You like that? You like thinking about another’s dick deep in your throat? Hum? You like that little slut?”
“I-I only like your cock, Daddy.” You affirmed.
He show you his metal teeth.
“Good girl. Now on the bed. It’s time for your punishment.”
Without missing a beat, you go on the bed, on your hands and knees, putting your ass facing him and a little bit higher than the rest of your body, to make it seems more enticing. You can feel the bed moving under you and you know exactly that J is moving to try to get the best angle for your spanking.
His rough hands are suddenly touching the bare skin of you ass. A good goosebumps make all of the hair on your body raised up in excitement. You could feel the coldness of his golden bracelets travel behind his hands.
“You know why I am punishing you babygirl?” He ask, the roughness of his voice showing up.
“Because I have been a bad girl to my Daddy.”
“You are right baby. That little mouth of yours put you in trouble. I thought I educated you better than that.”
“I’m sorry Daddy…”
“Being sorry won’t save you baby girl.”
Then come the first slap. It sound echoed in the room along with my hiss. He messaged it for a while before hitting the same spot even harder. The same pattern kept going for a while: hit, massage, hit harder, hit, massage, hit harder… You were a moaning mess at the end, and you couldn’t feel your ass.
“You can’t imagine how much I love the sight of your ass all red and ready.”
You can feel his fingers sliding down carefully towards your wet folds. You moaned when you felt his big finger splitting your lips apart to give him a better look.
“That’s it baby, make your little pussy cry me a river.” He said while putting a finger inside of you.
You could feel your walls trying to suck it in, recognising it right of the bat. Your pussy was squeezing his finger so hard that when he tried to retract it, a sound of suction could be heard. It’s like if your pussy didn’t to be left without him.
Of course you were used to getting something in it every day. Before getting your ass into Belle Rêve, you always had his daddy stick up your tight cunt.
“My, my, my baby, you’re so fucking tight it almost hurt!”
Another finger was added to the equation. You bite the sheets under you, muffling the sounds of your moans at the same time. Your daddy’s fingers were hammering inside of you. And you could hear the sound of slapping flesh all around you.
Suddenly, you were on your belly, face to face with him. His fingers were shot down your throat without warning, making you chocked over the surprise. You started to swirl your tongue around, the taste of your juice all over your mouth. Soon enough, his fingers were replaced by his tongue. Your wet muscle was dancing with his for a couple minutes, spit falling down of your mouth at how sloppy the kiss was.
"You know what baby? I think I found a better way to show people who you belong to.“
”What is it daddy?“ You asked, in a baby voice.
His big blue eyes was on you the all time he was lowering his head so his mouth could be at the level of your ear. His fingers were moving all around your body, pinching your nipples at some point, which made you trembled.
”I’m going to breed that little cunt of yours.“ He whispered.
You cried out in ecstasy as your hands grabbed a hold of the covers on your bed as his ginormous cock entered your tight little pink pussy.
You could hear his moans of pleasure as his dripping cock head pushed against the wet, tight walls of your cunt.
”Fuck yeah, suck daddy’s meat with your tight little cunt. Make me feel good babygirl.“
He started moving slowly inside you, breaking the tight suction of your hole around the thickness of his cock. He started to move faster as your moans begin to be louder and louder, working his cock completely in and out of your little cunt.
“Mm… that’s it, little pussy, grab onto my cock. Make me fuck it harder.”
J grunted with every thrust into your little pussy. His balls popping against your clit over and over slowly turning your pussy into a lake of wetness. Your moans turned into screams ad you knew that if anybody were to be in the house, they would perfectly heard you.
He dug his fingers once more into your hips, pulling you into his hard thrust. He could feel his gut twisting in pleasure inside of him. It was so good, so good. It was making his balls tighten with every stroke.
He was about to breed his babygirl.
”Fuck, I can’t wait to put my fucking baby inside you.“
You could feel your muscle started to cramp over the movement of in and out of his meat inside of you. Sweat was dripping all over his face. You lift yourself up to wipe it with your tongue. J moaned at your action. You smiled, proud to make him feel so good. But you were rapidly pull back into the bed by his hand that was now wrapped around your tiny neck.
He used his grip as leverage, his cock slapping inside you harder than ever.
The smell of your sweet cunt cream scented the air around him and made him go totally insane. He put every muscle he had into pushing as deep as he could into you, to push as far up into your belly as he could get and breed your little hole with his potent seed.
”Oh god, daddy! You’re gonna make me cum with your long, big stick!“
Your pussy clenched down on his dick like a vice, making it close to impossible for him to withdraw. Suction noises was flying in the air as he kept pounding into you. You were still trembling underneath him.
You could tell he was close to cum.
”C'mon you little fucking cunt. Milk me. Fuck!“
When his orgasm hit he screamed. It felt like his cock was exploding inside your sucking walls, milking the incestuous seed from his swollen balls into waiting womb to breed you. He dived as deeply as he could into you. Again and again he stabbed his meat into you forcing your womb to opened up against the head of his cock.
“Fuckkkkk yeah… swallow it… little pussy,” he hunched his cock against your womb with every spurt.
“Swallow all of Daddy's… hot seed,” he grunted, shaking as he forced the head tight against your cervix and held it there, letting the last drops leak into your opening. Allowing your womb to suckle on the tip, trying to draw every drop from his potent cock.
“God damn… suck it… suck it,” he moaned before finally collapsing on top of you as his softening cock fell out of your pussy with an obscene slurp.
Your chest was falling heavily as you tried to regulate your respiration. You gently passed your hand into his green hair, kissing his temple sweetly. He raised his head that was currently burried beside your neck and kissed you slowly.
“You took all of Daddy’s big cock, little girl,” he murmured against your lips, pecking it once.
“And Daddy is really proud of his babygirl,” he pecked it once again.
"Nobody will ever take you away from me now.“ He said, rubbing your belly who will soon be the home of somebody else.
Summary: After receiving a very rude letter of your ex on the mail saying that he is going to get married. You see yourself not knowing what to do, you can just let it go or accept the help of your hot neighbor and pretend he is your boyfriend.
When you knock on the door all your family, literally
all your family is there waiting for you. The first person you see is your
oldest brother, he looks older since the last time you saw him and tired as
Then you saw your parents, your father pulls you to a
quick hug while your mother keeps you in her arms until she is sure that you
are eating enough, drinking enough water and definitely okay in your city.
Your grandmother is the last one, she smiles bright at
you and you swear that she doesn’t age. She is wearing a bright red dress and
hands you a glass of wine “He is a much better choice than the last one, you
did good, honey.” She raises her glass in a sign of approval, you hug her, you
missed your family like crazy, but your grandmother was always the one that
made that house feels like home, she was always the one who stayed by your side
Don’t Let Me Get In The Way (Steve Rogers x reader)
1. BONNIE YAY!!!!! REQUEST
TIME!!!! pls write about Steve starting to blow you off (missed events and
important dates) because of Bucky & the events of civil war. My heart loves
angst but please end happy if at all possible.
2. Hi, can
you please write a little fluffy fic where Steve asks the reader to marry him?
Whenever anyone would ask
how it came to be that you were dating Captain America, you would tell them
that you fell into his arms like it was a dream, and right when their eyes would
gloss over in imagination of the romance in that statement, you’d crush it with
a snicker at their gullibility. It was
definitely like a dream, alright; but more like a nightmare, being chased
across your apartment by some disgusting alien as it shot at you, pushing you
towards the window of your tenth floor home until you crawled out onto the
ledge and prepared for your own end at the mercy of Park Avenue’s asphalt. As if it were planned, or at least by
miraculous intervention, Steve was fighting his own group of alien assailants,
hearing you from above just in time to turn and catch you as you jumped.
You literally fell into his
life, and he loved telling the story as much as you hated to remember it.
A/N: This is the first installment of a series I’m starting called Growing up Winchester. It’s basically one shots of what life was like for the Winchester kids. Dean’s the oldest, Y/N is the middle child, and Sam is the youngest.
“De, I’m bored.” You whined at your oldest brother who sat across from you coloring at the motel room table. John, the patriarch of the family had taken Sam to the store with him to get some supplies before he left you kids for a hunt.
“Whaddya want me to do about it?” Dean questioned you with an unamused look on his face.
You shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t know. Can we play a game or somethin’?”
“I don’t know Y/N, Dad said we gotta be quiet. He doesn’t want anybody knowin’ we’re here alone, especially cause he’ll be leaving for a h-work trip tomorrow and we don’t want any trouble.”
“Okay De.” You said dejectedly, “Can you pass the pourple? I’m gonna give the puppy pourple spots.” Dean gave you a sad face before reaching over and handing you the
crayon. You gave him a soft smile in return as you grabbed the crayon
from his hand. “Thanks.”
based on the iconic ice cream and pool boy photos of 5/15/17
warnings ; none, sfw except for a few sexual jokes
pairing ; phan obviously
summary ; dan is a bored pool boy who works for a rich and snotty couple on the rich side of london. but somehow, flirting with the ice-cream man who works outside their mansion makes it a little better.
God, it was hot.
Dan didn’t care how many times he had to trundle down this asphalt street in the blistering heat, he was positive he would never get used to it. He just wouldn’t get used to the ground beneath him practically melting through his sneakers, sweat dripping from his forehead into his eyes and making his hair even curlier than it naturally was.
Dan pressed his chapped lips together, wetting them with his tongue. He looked up, pushing his hair back on his sticky forehead and searching the horizon.
Just down the street, there he was. Prowling his usual location, practically right in front of the house Dan worked at for the largest shift of his day, his pink cart shining, the bells tinkling.
It was a good summer job; cleaning pools. It just sucked ass when the people giving you money are power-hungry jerks with the biggest pool in the UK.
Phil made it a little better.
Today he was wearing a short sleeved button up that showed off his lean arm muscles quite well, as well as black shorts. He was standing behind the small cart, digging through the basket for something. Dan grinned, leaning against the cart on his elbows.
“Hey cutie,” he said nonchalantly, reaching into the cooler and taking out an ice cube, proceeding to press it to his face.
Phil raised his head quickly, practically hitting it on the cart on the way. Dan laughed as his face went red, and he rolled his eyes.
“Hey, Dan.” His voice sounded annoyed, but Dan knew he wasn’t. This was just the way they talked.
Dan examined the piece of ice before shrugging and popping it into his mouth. “You look busy today.” He giggled. “How are you not burning up out here…?”
Phil huffed slightly, standing up straight so he could fully watch Dan, tugging the collar of his shirt up to wipe his forehead, exposing a strip of pale skin of his stomach.
“Oh trust me, I am.” He sighed. “I burn like a marshmallow. But this is my job, y’know? There’s no avoiding it.”
Dan nodded slowly, almost sleepily, considering the heat was melting down his senses. “I get that.” He glanced down at the cooler, filled with dozens of different colors. “Can I get-”
“Strawberry double-scoop, with sprinkles and a cherry.” Phil made a clicking noise with his tongue at Dan, winking. “Gotcha.”
Dan laughed lightly, watching him open one of the containers. “Damn. Do you memorize all of your customer’s orders?”
Phil shrugged. “Only the cute ones.”
A blush burned at Dan’s cheeks, but he rolled his eyes to cover it up. “Wow. Smooth.”
“You love it.” Phil looked back up at him, smiling like a four year old who had just successfully copied the bill of rights. Happy and bright. If Dan’s heart wasn’t already melted, he was sure it would melt again.
“A little bit. But don’t get cocky.”
Phil held out his hand, handing Dan the ice cream. Dan took it graciously, going to dig through the pocket of his slightly skimpy pink shorts. He had gotten them about a week before, definitely not so he could impress Phil. Of course not.
“Mmh, sorry, can’t let you pay for that,” Phil said lightly when Dan held out the change. Dan frowned, his rosy lips slightly turned down.
“Why not?” He raised his eyebrows.
“Because it’s on the house.” Phil reached down again, shutting the container and looking back up to smirk at Dan like a hyena. He pushed Dan’s hand away gently.
“Won’t Mr. and Mrs. annoying-ass be upset if you’re late?” Phil asked, just to change the subject. Dan scowled at him.
“Thanks for reminding me.”
He glanced down at his wrist, noting that his arm was considerably tanned since the beginning of summer.
“Nah, they’re gone by now.”
Phil nodded, just as something came to Dan’s mind. He snickered, leaning forward on the cart, closer to Phil.
“You said you’re hot, right?”
“Dan, you’re a bloody idiot.”
Dan picked up the nervousness in Phil’s tone, and glanced back at him from the edge of the pool. He was standing right outside the gate, in the grass, fiddling with his fingers. He looked terrified, which was adorable if Dan was in any position to be thinking so. Dan giggled.
“You’re not scared, are you?” He spun on his heel, crossing his arms in a soft of challenge. “You’re not gonna get in trouble. They’re gone, remember? Besides, this is my job.” Dan scoffed, pouting slightly. “And they pay me hardly enough, the least they could do is let me have a little fun.”
“I dunno Dan…” Phil bit down on his lower lip, searching his face. “I left my cart out there…”
Dan groaned, walking over to him and grabbing his hand. “It’ll only be a minute. It won’t melt, it’s in the freezer.” He gave Phil his best puppy dog eyes, flashing him a smile so sweet he was sure to get cavities. “Pleasee?”
Phil sighed, unable to look away for a moment. “Fine. But only for a minute.”
“Yay!” Dan cheered, grabbing Phil’s wrist and tugging him farther into the yard. “I promise, you won’t regret it.”
Phil nodded, pulling his hand away and laughing. “I am pretty hot…”
Without warning he was stripping off his shirt, cannon-balling into the turquoise water, splashing practically the whole courtyard. Dan squealed, shielding himself from the spray.
“Jesus, give me a warning next time you’re planning on undressing and spraying me.” Dan didn’t realize what he had said until it was too late, Phil had already winked. “Oh, shut up.”
Phil grinned, swimming backwards and letting the water push his hair back into a quiff. “Aren’t you coming in?”
Dan grimaced. “Er, now that I think about it…”
Phil raised his eyebrows, incredulous. “Are you kidding me?”
Before Dan could think to run, the boy was pushing himself out of the pool, dripping wet. He shook his head like a dog, flicking water everywhere. “C’mere.”
“No!” Dan backed away, giggling at the dumb game he had gotten himself into. “Make me!”
“Oh I will, pretty boy.”
The words made him blush but Dan ignored it, attempting to escape to Phil’s left. Phil didn’t fall for it, grabbing him by the waist and holding him still.
Dan thrashed, laughing and trying to push him away, but it was no use. Phil nearly flung him over his shoulder, carrying him back to the pool and throwing him in.
Dan hit the water with a loud splash, the cool sensation flooding against the skin and causing temporary euphoria. When he came up for air, he sighed, running his fingers through his hair.
“Good, yeah?” Phil asked, grinning and hopping in after him.
“Yeah,” Dan replied almost dreamily. “Thanks for making me get in.”
“Hey, no problem.” Phil shrugged. “If it weren’t for you, I’d still be out there in the sun.”
Then came a silence between them, but it was comfortable. Dan floated on his back, watching the trees that grew around the courtyard sway in the slight (warm) breeze.
Finally, Phil spoke again, and Dan popped his head up to listen.
“You know, I wasn’t kidding about what I said.”
Dan raised an eyebrow, watching Phil play with the water, moving his hands to form tiny waves.
“About you being cute.” He looked up, the corner of his lips pulled up in a lopsided grin. “You’re my cutest customer, and I mean that.”
Dan could feel his face going pink again and he brought his hands up to his cheeks, whether to cool them or hide the blush, Dan didn’t know.
“Well I meant what I said too.” Dan snickered softly. “About you being hot.”
Phil groaned. “I thought you meant temperature wise.”
“I did.” Dan shrugged, a strand of hair falling between his eyes. “That too.”
Without noticing, one of them had moved closer, (neither was quite sure who but it really didn’t matter), and Dan placed a hand on Phil’s shoulder.
“Hey…” Dan trailed his fingertips up Phil’s shoulder to his neck, and then up to his jaw. Phil visibly shivered. “I wanna pay you back.”
“For what?” Phil asked, his voice coming out a bit hazy and distracted, distracted by Dan’s fingers mindlessly moving up and down his cheekbone.
“For the ice cream.” Dan let out a little huffy laugh. “Lemme take you out for coffee sometime.”
Phil couldn’t even bring himself to argue. He couldn’t bring himself to say ‘no, Dan, that ice cream was free because I really like you and I hope that free ice cream makes you want to be my boyfriend’.
“Yes,” he breathed.
Dan smiled, and then sighed, dunking back under the water momentarily.
“Summer, right?” He said teasingly when he came back up, making a groaning noise.
“I dunno.” Phil shrugged, grabbing Dan’s waist and pulling him close. “Summer isn’t so bad.”
Summary: Dan and Phil have their first time in the back of a car. Trust me, it’s more romantic than it sounds!
Word Count: 2,656
Warnings: There shouldn’t be any but if one of you guys see one let me know please!
Some General Tags: Pure smut, slight daddy kink, first time, size kink for like two seconds, and pastel and punk themes (but not directly stated).
Authors Note: It’s 11:00pm where I am, I have an essay due tomorrow at 8am, and I got stressed from writing it so I wrote this instead! And trust me, I would much rather be writing this than a 7 page essay on Plato and Socrates. But anyway, It’s not very long, it’s pure smut, and it might have some typos. Enjoy it nevertheless! Happy reading! :)
Summary: Your cousin needs help with her adorable 2-year-old.
Paring: Steve x Reader
Warnings: Kids and loads and loads of fuffly
“Are you sure that you three are going to be okay?” You look into your cousins’ eyes and nod. You understand that she is worried about leaving her daughter with you and Steve for the whole afternoon, it’s the first time since her divorce that she is going out and she is looking for excuses not to “Of course, how many times have I watched Kate? Go have fun on your date.”
“It is not a date and are you sure that Steve is not gonna mind? He works so much and this is his free time…” You don’t let her finish “Of course it is a date, he asked you for coffee and cake, and in my book that is a date. About Steve, don’t worry he loves kids.”
You are not sure if this is true, you and Steve never talked about having kids or even kids in general in your eight-month relationship. But how bad can it be? In the worst case, he spends all day locked in the room while you play with a toddler.
Is this good? Is this bad? Will my inner-child allow me to judge this appropriately?
“Power Rangers” is a reboot of the classic 1990s action-packed children’s show “Mighty Morphin Power Rangers,” which in turn is based on the Japanese tokusatsu “Super Sentai Series.” It’s directed by Dean Israelite and stars a cast of young actors, as well as Bryan Cranston, Bill Hader and Elizabeth Banks. The film is set in the small, fictional town of Angel Grove, where local high school students Jason Scott, Kimberly Hart and Billy Cranston (Dacre Montgomery, Naomi Scott and RJ Cyler, respectively) are all caught up in detention. Through a series of shenanigans, they come across Trini and Zack (Becky G and Ludi Lin, respectively) as they all discover an ancient, otherworldly construct. It’s there where they meet Zordon (Cranston) and his robot assistant Alpha 5 (voiced by Hader), and attain the responsibility of becoming a powerful team known as the Power Rangers, and to stop the destruction of an ancient, powerful witch known as Rita Repulsa (Banks).
This is the absolute perfect “what if” movie. The answer to “what if they remade ‘Power Rangers’ for adults” question. This is the film we asked for, albeit cautiously. We really owe it to franchises such as the “Transformers” series, because without them, this film would be seen as an impossible reach.
Being a millennial, I was very much a child when “Power Rangers” had its long television run, and I stayed true through each incarnation, from “Mighty Morphin” to “Lightspeed Rescue,” and considered myself a retired fan after “Dino Thunder” (I was already in middle school at the time). So yes, shameful as it is, I know my shit. As you can see, I want this to be good. But was it?
Yes. Surprisingly, it was pretty good. It’s not shockingly “I thought this was going to be shit but it ended up being amazingly amazing” good. It’s just good.
Here’s one thing that the film does better than the TV show: the acting. In a great departure from the “Saved by the Bell” mood that the 90s actors gave us, we now have grounded, realistic, rebellious teenagers. These new actors fit the “teenagers with attitude” description way better than the 90s actors ever did. You have Montgomery as Jason, playing the rebel who ends up having to deal with the most responsibility. Scott plays Kimberly, the girl who does a good job of not just being the obligatory female casting, or the fighting damsel-in-distress, unlike the original. The dialogue between these two is usually filled with charm, whether its casual banter or a proclamation of their contempt for Angel Grove.
But they do something different with the rest of the cast, which helps to modernize them. Cyler as Billy provides the humor and keeps the grittiness from ever getting lower and lower. Of the five teenagers, he is the one with the most charisma But he also serves to represent autistic teens everywhere. Yes, unlike the television counterpart, they made the Blue Ranger autistic, which is a pretty bold and commendable step for something based off a children’s property.
To keep the ball rolling, they then make Becky G’s Trini represent lesbians and confused, oppressed teenagers everywhere. Okay, this film had me at shedding light on autism, but encouraging more LGBT representation? Hats off to you, Lionsgate and Saban. Despite this, I found Becky G’s performance to be slightly annoying until about halfway through the movie, when they developed her much more, and gave her a more integral role in the plot.
While I praised the rest of the cast, I’d have to drop the axe on Ludi Lin as Zack, the Black Ranger. Compared to all these convincing performances, Lin’s is absolutely haphazard. The way he is introduced is to set up how much of a cocky outsider he is, so naturally he’s by himself. He then starts speaking to himself, which is one of my absolute biggest pet peeves in a movie. I despise movie moments where normal-functioning people start speaking or quipping to themselves, the only sensible reason being that the writers assume the audience is too dumb to know what the character is thinking. I get it if a character has schizophrenia or another mental illness, or if the words are limited to comedic inner-banter, but not in this case. He’s someone with decent social-competence and no reason to quarrel with himself, other than provide exposition to the audience.
But like Trini, I did find him to be much less annoying when he opened up. They gave him a pretty touching backstory with his own troubles, and they make his motivations really apparent. And just to keep the ball rolling, he’s also the most foreign one of the group, being bilingual, unlike the original black ranger. Now that I think about it, many of the Power Ranger series’ casts don’t feature any overtly foreign characters, apart from maybe of an alien race.
That is precisely why this casting works. Whether or not you find these characters annoying, you can’t doubt that they’re there for a good reason, and you might even warm up to them as the movie progresses. They also help to introduce bouts of political correctness, but they aren’t preachy or condescending about it (which is really the only good way to go about political correctness). They represent people of various colors, mental states and social capabilities, showing (but not telling) that everyone is capable of extraordinary things as long as they have camaraderie.
I can’t say much about Cranston as Zordon. It’s a great homage, seeing as how Cranston has actually been a part of “Power Rangers” since the original television show, where he voiced many of the villains they face. I do love his voice-work here, and while it took some getting used to, I ended up really liking how they presented him. Rather than a chubby, floating head in a tube, they made him manifest into a wall, kind of like one of those pinpression toys. Not to mention they could have easily made him a one-dimensional character. But they went above and beyond to give him his own arc, his own set of feelings and doubts, and a world of lore behind him.
If you thought Alpha 5 was annoying in the television show, then you can rest your worries because Bill Hader fixed him up good. The original’s voice was so high-pitched and screechy; basically in typical 90s fashion (or how the 90s thought Aliens would sound like). This time, he just kind of does the same thing he did as Fear from “Inside Out,” except less screaming. His design had me slightly worried but I got used to it.
Now, Elizabeth Banks as Rita Repulsa has me split down the middle. On the one hand, I do like that at least ONE person in this entire film is trying to recall the absurdity and campiness of the original series. At the same time, I found her to be over-the-top, and incredibly outlandish compared to the rest of the grounded cast. She is guilty of overacting here, which is both a blessing and a curse. The prosthetics on her are amazing though, from both start to finish. She starts out as an outright horror character, which is something I didn’t expect to see even in the gritty version of a children’s property.
If you kept up with me for this long, you know that a recurring theme here is that this film takes several risks that are rather uncharacteristic of a children’s property. Sure, there are hints of silliness to try and match the youthful appeal of the original, but they also throw in more mature bits of humor, about things such as drug tests and jacking off a cow (no joke). Me personally, I welcome these jokes. If anything, this is much more of a film for the adults who grew up watching “Power Rangers,” rather than children. The maturity really shines through in the form of character development and chemistry.
I must say that if you are bringing a child to watch this, keep in mind there will be mild swearing, and several mature jokes.
A common criticism (ad nauseam, pretty much) is that this film is a forced collision between two different movies. Two thirds of the movie is essentially the origin story, which focuses mainly on character development. At the same time, this is the section that appeals to the audience the most, whether you’re fans of the original or not. No one comes into anything titled “Power Rangers” and expects to feel for the characters. But through one particular scene where all the characters develop a kinship, we develop a peculiar attachment to each of them. It was at this moment that I’m glad these people are the ones I’m spending five more movies with (Yup, that’s right).
But when it sticks to the original, it definitely sticks, and that’s where the last third of the movie comes in. If you’re looking for cool looking suits fighting monsters with martial arts and gymnastics, you will get it. If you’re looking for giant robot dinosaurs battling another giant monster, you will get it. And MOST OF ALL, if you want to, at least once, hear the iconic theme song, you will get it. In all it’s pure, epic goodness.
But this is where I have to defend my appreciation for this movie, because many people will come in accusing me of being “blinded by nostalgia.” Despite having these borrowed features from the original show, there is really nothing nostalgic about it. The action here is far better than most of the show’s episodes. There is no silliness to be had apart from what would be silly by realistic standards (as opposed to having two obligatory bully characters).
Even some elements taken from the show are vastly different. Case in point: Rita, who in this film is actually getting shit done by herself rather than sitting up in some moon tower yelling at everyone.
Even the formula of the show is broken up here. Back then, everything was so fast-paced to where every time a new series was brought in, the new team of Power Rangers would unrealistically form intimate familial connection and extraordinary abilities within 20 minutes. This film actually shows you that the Power Rangers had to train for this, both physically and mentally. They didn’t just have these abilities bestowed upon them as a result of the plot rushing it together. You see them work for it, which is something I really appreciated about it.
I had to bring that up because many of the people who didn’t like this film will be quick to see reactions like mine and guilt me for “nostalgia.” But that “tone difference” that they’re faulting this for is the reason why you can’t pin nostalgia on this. All that means is that everything I liked about this film has been on its own merits, maybe (at most) perpetuated by quick little homages to the original.
I suppose before I wrap this up I should mention one more thing. Not really a problem, but more like something I wish happened: I wish they played the theme song more. It was wonderful hearing the iconic theme song, perfectly borrowed from the 1995 film, and at the height of its “Power Ranger-ness.” But I felt that if they really were gonna throw it in there, they should have totally owned it and at least left it playing for a bit longer. If not that, then at least make an instrumental cover to play in the background during the climax, rather than GODDAMN KANYE.
This is a film that has fans and critics alike split down the middle, but it’s pretty clear that everyone who hates it is hating it for the same two reasons: (1) It has a massive tone-clash towards the end, and (2) It caters way too much toward product promotion for Krispy Kreme donuts. I do agree with the latter, make no mistake. But when I hear people complain about this tone-clash, it reminds me of people who complained about the “slow parts” of every other superhero film, whether it’s “Captain America: Civil War,” or “Batman v Superman.” Apart from being a “Power Rangers” movie, this is also an origin story film. And for something as ridiculous as “Power Rangers,” it definitely requires a slow initiation process. To get us going on a six-movie deal, the creators will have to help casual viewers acclimate to the premise, because chances are the naysayers are the ones who skipped out on this franchise as children, and therefore missed their window of opportunity. Ironic how a movie based on a children’s property requires a mature level of patience from the audience.
As I said before, if you came into this wanting to see colored suits, martial arts, explosions and giant robots, you will get it. If you’re dragged into this film but appreciate elements like character development and chemistry, you will get that too. As someone who enjoys both, I actually would go so far as to say I loved this movie. I don’t care if I’m alone on this, but I can comfortably say that I loved the “Power Rangers” movie.