#before you ask this was from a bail fund email

[mthofferings]

Tiptapricot

See Tiptapricot’s existing works here and here.

Preferred contact methods: Tumblr: Tiptapricot Email: [email protected] Instagram: tiptapricot_vibes

Preferred organizations: - Autistic Self Advocacy Network - Native American Rights Fund - RIP Medical Debt - The Bail Project - Transgender Law Center (See the list of approved organizations here)

Will create works that contain: Sfw: Fluff, angst, horror, inhuman exploration, domesticity, falling in love, nonsexual intimacy, role swap, missing scenes, time loop/time travel AUs, sci fi, mixed canons from media, trans exploration, aspec exploration. Nsfw: explicit content with any of the above, transmasc porn, t-dick smut, frottage, grinding, monster sex, tentacles, aphrodisiacs, cock warming, weird sex, voyeurism/exhibitionism, more if asked.

Will not create works that contain: Yandere, dark!AUs, intentional OOC, scat play, piss play, non-monster blood play, heavy BDSM, bestiality, underage sex (whether between minors or between an adult and a minor), incestuous content, childbirth, period sex, cannibalism (aspects of monster-related eating may be discussed), race play, age play, medical abuse, suicide/self harm (references and content may be discussed), heavy non-con/dub-con (aspects involved in kinks may be discussed), heavy gore/heavy sexual gore (can be discussed in certain contexts), explicit and visceral murder, religious alteration/other religion AUs for Jewish characters, plural erasure/separate body/no system AUs for plural characters, magical genderswap/other gender AUs (fantastical trans explorations may be discussed), Bemis's run, Pepose’s City of the Dead characterization (though plot elements from CotD are welcome to be utilized), OCs, reader inserts

  -- Fic or Other Writing --

Auction ID: 1125

Will create works for the following relationships: Steven Grant/Jake Lockley/Marc Spector - 616, MCU Layla El-Faouly/Steven Grant/Marc Spector - 616, MCU Logan/Charles Xavier - X-Men: Evolution Miguel O'Hara-centric - Spider-Verse (animated films) Miguel O'Hara/Peter Parker/Mary Jane Watson - Spider-Verse (animated films) Jean-Paul Duchamp/Steven Grant/Jake Lockley/Marc Spector - 616, MCU Layla El-Faouly/Steven Grant/Jake Lockley/Greer Grant Nelson/Marc Spector - 616, MCU Jean-Paul Duchamp & Layla El-Faouly & Steven Grant & Jake Lockley & Marc Spector - 616, MCU Astronaut Marc/Jean-Paul Duchamp - 616, MCU Yehya Badr & Steven Grant & Jake Lockley & Marc Spector & the Midnight Mission crew - 616, MCU

Work Description: (This is my SFW listing, if you are interested in explicit/sexual work, please look for my other auction.) This listing is for a generally safe for work fic piece starting at ~1,000 words. Each $5 bid will increase the piece’s word count by ~500 words, up to ~5,000 words maximum. If desired by the winner, the resulting word count may be split among multiple smaller fics. It may also inhabit a lower word count than the maximum if it is hit in bidding (IE: even if this auction hits a $55 bid, if you would like only a 2k word fic, I can do that). Word count is not exact and I may go slightly over or under depending on what fits the story best, but I will try to stick as close as I can. Due to current projects and plans, I will not be able to begin active prose work on this piece until early 2024 (likely early January, if not a bit later. I will communicate my availability with the winner). Discussions, planning, and an outline are welcome to be discussed and hammered out before then. This piece as well as my other listing will be taking the place of two regular commission slots for my January opening, and it is unlikely I will open more slots at that time. Winning a listing from me here is the best way to guarantee a slot from me in the near future. Clarifications for listed relationships: For any group platonic relationships or polyamorous romantic relationships, I am open to the whole group listed, as well as any combination of characters listed within that group (IE: I am open to writing polyamorous Marc/Steven/Jake, as well as only Marc/Jake or only Marc/Steven. This applies to platonic groups like the Midnight Mission Crew as well, as in I am open to writing stories only featuring Badr, Reese, and Soldier being friends, or only Steven and The House of Shadows). If a relationship you are interested in is not listed here but seems to fit with what I’m open to (IE: Greer & Frenchie, House of Shadows-centric, or even Miguel & The Moon Knight System), you are welcome to bid and reach out to discuss it with me. I may not be open to all pair ups or explorations, however, so please make sure you are at least interested in a story with what I already have listed currently. The "Astronaut Marc" listing refers to Captain Spector/Commander/MK-1 AKA the spaceman alter featured in the Lemire run, and his inner world version of Frenchie who fights alongside him. I am open to headcanoned characterizations/stories for these two, as well as larger AUs should the winner want to do something extra fun with them. Further content clarifications: I am open to melding aspects of different universes together in whatever way the winner would like (IE: MCU Moon Knight System interacting with Lemire Run events). Additionally, characters regularly a part of the chosen cast but not listed above are welcome (IE: Gena, Crawley, Lyla, Mayday), and additional side characters or Marvel cameos are welcome as long as I am given ample communication on versions and where to find information on them if I’m not familiar with them. While 616 is listed for all Moon Knight characters, I am not comfortable writing for runs I am not familiar with or am uncomfortable with (see DNWs above for some runs). I am most familiar with the Lemire 2016 run and the MacKay 2021 run versions of the characters. Headcanoned versions of additional Moon Knight system headmates are allowed to a certain extent (IE: Mr. Knight as a separate headmate or Dr. Harrow as a separate headmate would be fine, an original child alter would not). Examples of my work can be found in my portfolio links! What I have posted covers a range of content and word count, depending on the length and story type you are looking for. When contacting me after winning, please have a general idea of the story you would like to see. Further discussion on things like specific beats, headcanons, point of view, and tense may be discussed after.

Ratings: Gen, Teen, Mature

Can pods bid on this auction? Yes - Podbids welcome!

CLICK HERE TO BID ON THIS WORK

-- Fic or Other Writing --

Auction ID: 2061

Will create works for the following relationships: Steven Grant/Jake Lockley/Marc Spector - 616, MCU Layla El-Faouly/Steven Grant/Marc Spector - 616, MCU Miguel O'Hara/Peter Parker/Mary Jane Watson - Spider-Verse (animated films) Miguel O'Hara-centric - Spider-Verse (animated films) Khonshu-centric - 616, MCU Jean-Paul Duchamp/Steven Grant/Jake Lockley/Marc Spector - 616, MCU Jean-Paul Duchamp/Steven Grant - 616 Layla El-Faouly/Steven Grant/Jake Lockley/Greer Grant Nelson/Marc Spector - 616, MCU Astronaut Marc/Jean-Paul Duchamp - 616, MCU The House of Shadows-centric - 616

Work Description: (This is my NSFW listing, if you are interested in non-sexual work, please look for my other auction.) This listing is for a sexually explicit fic piece starting at ~1,000 words. Each $2 bid will increase the piece’s word count by ~200 words, up to ~4,000 words maximum. If desired by the winner, the resulting word count may be split among multiple smaller fics. It may also inhabit a lower word count than the maximum if it is hit in bidding (IE: even if this auction hits a $40 bid, if you would like only a 2k word fic, I can do that). Word count is not exact and I may go slightly over or under depending on what fits the story best, but I will try to stick as close as I can. Due to current projects and plans, I will not be able to begin active prose work on this piece until early 2024 (likely early January, if not a bit later. I will communicate my availability with the winner). Discussions, planning, and an outline are welcome to be discussed and hammered out before then. This piece as well as my other listing will be taking the place of two regular commission slots for my January opening, and it is unlikely I will open more slots at that time. Winning a listing from me here is the best way to guarantee a slot from me in the near future. Clarifications for listed relationships/characters: For any polyamorous relationships, I am open to the whole group listed, as well as any combination of characters listed within that group (IE: I am open to writing polyamorous Marc/Steven/Jake/Jean-Paul, as well as any combination within such as Marc/Jake, Jean-Paul/Jake/Steven, etc.). If a relationship you are interested in is not listed here but seems to fit with what I’m open to (IE: Layla and Jean-Paul both being with the Moon Knight System at the same time, someone engaging sexually with the House of Shadows, Miguel x MK System) you are welcome to bid and reach out to discuss it with me. I may not be open to all pair ups or explorations, however, so please make sure you are at least interested in a story with what I already have listed. The "Astronaut Marc" listing refers to Captain Spector/Commander/MK-1 AKA the spaceman alter featured in the Lemire run, and his inner world version of Frenchie who fights alongside him. I am open to headcanoned characterizations/stories for these two, as well as larger AUs should the winner want to do something extra fun with them. Both the House of Shadows and Khonshu are listed as I greatly enjoy inanimate/nonhuman/godly sex, and if anyone out there would like some good old eldritch building or god fucking, I am very very open to that. I am very specific about how I pair Khonshu with other characters, however, so work with him would be less flexible on what I’m open for outside of a solo scenario. Although comics Steven/Jean-Paul is covered by my polyamorous relationship pair up rule, I am especially interested in the MacKay versions of Steven and Jean-Paul as a ship, and would love to create for them. Further content clarifications: I would like the focus of this story to be on sexual intimacy, porn, etc. as I’m interested in creating a short and smutty piece we can both be excited about and have fun with, so as long as it fits with my content boundaries, weird and wild ideas are welcome! Plot build up outside of the main sexual content will be kept to a minimum unless further discussed. I am open to melding aspects of different universes together in whatever way the winner would like (IE: MCU Moon Knight System interacting with Lemire Run events). Additionally, characters regularly a part of the chosen cast but not listed above are welcome to feature (IE: Gena, Crawley, Lyla, Mayday), and additional side characters or Marvel cameos are welcome but only in brief mentions or appearances. Trans headcanons are more than welcome for any character! And further headcanons such as kink preference, body features (bottom growth, top surgery/bottom surgery or not, etc.) may be discussed as well. While 616 is listed for all Moon Knight characters, I am not comfortable writing for runs I am not familiar with or am uncomfortable with (see DNWs above for some runs). I am most familiar with the Lemire 2016 run and the MacKay 2021 run versions of the characters. Headcanoned versions of additional Moon Knight system headmates are allowed to a certain extent (IE: Mr. Knight as a separate headmate or Dr. Harrow as a separate headmate would be fine, an original child alter would not). Examples of my explicit work can be found in my portfolio links! If you would like further examples of my explicit content, a few short original pieces may be found here and here. When contacting me after winning, please have a general idea of the story you would like to see. Further discussion on things like specific beats, headcanons, point of view, and tense may be discussed after.

Ratings: Explicit

Can pods bid on this auction? Yes - Podbids welcome!

CLICK HERE TO BID ON THIS WORK

The auction runs from October 22 (12 AM ET) to October 28 (11:59:59 PM ET). Visit marveltrumpshate.com during Auction Week to view all of our auctions and to place your bids!

#Tiptapricot #auction: fic #mth 2023

[messengerhermes]

The US Supreme Court Shit is Real Bad Y'all

Okay

Okay look

I know I keep harping on this with like every US Supreme Court update post I reblog but please. Please.

I need y'all to understand this shit's real fucking bad.

Right now our tally in terms of SC rulings is at:

-Dismantles the precedent that protects indigenous sovereignty (which paves the way to destroy the protections of the Indian Child Welfare Act) (Done on June 29, 2022) Oklahoma v. Castro-Huerta

Repealing of Roe v Wade (which has led to 13 states enacting trigger bans on abortion, two of which--Louisiana and Kentucky, are being held back by the courts) (Done June 24, 2022) Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization

Severely limiting the Miranda rights by saying that a police officer cannot be sued if they fail to read someone their Miranda rights (ie "you have the right to remain silent") and then uses information that person shares against them in court (Done on June 23, 2022)

Overturned the precedent of separation of church and state in Kennedy v Bremerton School District by ruling in favor of a coach who led a Christian prayer on the football field (Done on June 27, 2022)

Restricted the EPA's power to limit carbon emissions from power plants. (Done on June 30, 2022) West Virginia v. Environmental Protection Agency

Ruled that people can carry handguns outside the home, without special reason. (Done June 23, 2022) New York State Rifle & Pistol Assoc. v. Bruen.

Ruled that private religious schools cannot be barred from accessing public funding, further damaging separation of Church and State (Done June 23, 2022) Carson v. Makin

Ruled that those who were detained and tortured in Guantanamo Bay do not have the right to ask details about their torture from the agents that committed the acts, or from the US Government (Done March 3, 2022) United States v. Zubaydah

The Conservative Bloc on the Supreme Court currently holds an egregious amount of power, and is using that power to rapidly dismantle a lot of "settled law" AKA shit that has longstanding precedents from prior court decisions. This behavior is generally considered a dick move in terms of legal shit, but is also a massive red flag. I'm particularly wigged out because 7 of these 8 decisions have happened this month. While it isn't unheard of for the court to pass a lot of rulings in a short time, the extreme nature of these rulings and the hard line most of them have between conservative and liberal justices indicates a rapid grab for power here. Congress can do a number of things around this:

Suck the power out of these upturnings by codifying shit like Roe v Wade into law.

Expanding the Supreme Court (which has been done before) to balance the current lopsidedness of the court.

Impeach the four Supreme Court justices who've lied during their consideration hearings.

Pull an Abraham Lincoln and refuse to recognize the legitimacy of the court rulings

This isn't a complete list, but one meant to point out that while a branch of federal government is off the fucking rails, that does not mean there is nothing to be done--or that we should accept apathy from our representatives. Shit to do:

Call/email your representatives demanding they do all or one of the above and stop asking your ass for money

Write a letter to the editor of a local paper publicly calling your representative to do shit since that's what their job is

Plug into mutual aid networks, around abortion, bail funds, and legal aid among the basic needs. The government's not going to save us, but community safety nets are in place.

Get a VPN and use it. Check out digital security and what it means when apps track your data.

Figure out where you might fit into activism. Movement work isn't just protests. It's child care, it's hotline networks and food programs, and clothing drives. It's support groups.

Get your oxygen mask on first. If your basic needs are not being met, if you aren't getting time for rest and pleasure and care then you're not going to be able to show up for long haul sustained work. Do what you need to stabilize and give yourself time before jumping into shit.

This is in no way a complete list, instead it's meant to be something you can grab onto if like me you're reeling with the barrage of frightening rulings and rapid escalation from the US government. All is not lost. The US has been a fascist mess invested in the exploitation of vulnerable people for far longer than this (you know, since it's founding, really). But there is power in community and grassroots movements have been working for decades to catch people who fall through the cracks of government support systems. Find them. Be each other's hope in the storm.

#US Supreme Court #Fascism #conservatism #mutual aid #oohhh things are bad bad bad #but we can fucking do something

[starstuffandalotofcoffee]

okay but you're objectively incorrect and the very stupid Too Online Person trend of calling whatever thing you don't like a noun that is very unpopular needs to die a miserable death

Like you can talk about the role that prosecutors play in the broader carceral system and how their power should be reduced while still using words correctly

#before you ask this was from a bail fund email #and like...I am still going to donate because it's not the fault of arrested people the social media person at a nonprofit is a dumbass #but also come on

[goldenraeofsun]

Day 10: Crossover

Sam and Dean fell into a life of crime early on. They had to, what with growing up like they did. Dad walked them through the credit scams, and Sam realized that was just the beginning. He cobbled together his own Frankenstein computer together at twelve. By the time Dad dropped off the map for good, Sam had the skills to set them up for life.

He also bailed out twenty-three animal shelters and counting.

Dean mainly used his computer to download porn.

But Dean found his ability to convince older girls (and boys) to sleep with him and sweet talk bartenders into giving him a beer from age sixteen onwards translated to other… pursuits. They moved to New York City after Dad left, and Dean quickly fell in with the right crowd. They assumed he was the heir of a French banker with a fifty million trust fund, and he just never corrected them. Before he and Sam skipped town, Dean got a bank to loan him another fifty million. Dean used most of the money to fund his next scam, but it was fun while it lasted.

When Sam gets an email from Carver Edlund about a job, Dean dismisses it as another scam. How the hell would this Chuck guy know who they are? They’ve never been caught - not even a parking ticket.

But Sam digs a little deeper, and the receipts lead back to Chuck Shurley, novelist.

“He’s written books about us?” Dean demands as Sam reads the summary of Chuck’s most recent publication.

“Looks like,” Sam says grimly. He clicks the next page and narrates, “Together, the Hacker and the Grifter make a formidable team, but it may all be in jeopardy when they team up with a hitter and a thief for the greatest heist of the century.”

“We haven’t done that,” Dean says, frowning as he peers over Sam’s shoulder at the computer screen. The glare from their giant penthouse windows of Austin’s Fairmont Hotel makes it difficult.

“I think that’s what his email is about,” Sam says, toggling back to his inbox and Carver Edlund’s message. He glances up to Dean. “So, what do you think? He looks legit.”

Dean purses his lips. “I guess we aren’t doing anything at the moment.”

“Might be fun,” Sam says, his tone considering. “We’ve never worked with a team before.”

On the drive to Los Angeles, Sam reads the rest of Carver Edlund’s books. “Apparently he’s got another series, about the Thief and the Hitter. His next one is this big crossover event. Publisher’s Weekly said it’s one of the most highly anticipated thrillers of the year.”

“I’m not bustin’ out the champagne,” Dean grumbles as they enter the city limits. “I can’t believe he made my baby a Mustang.”

“At least he didn’t give you love interests,” Sam says darkly, throwing his Kindle into the back seat, “and kill them all off for plot.”

Dean sets them up in a swanky downtown hotel about a mile from the meeting spot. That evening, he scopes out the bar Chuck chose, noting the lack of security cameras and a pretty blonde sitting at the corner, nursing a straight whiskey. Back in their room, Sam does a thorough background check on the bar itself.

“Something’s up,” Sam announces as Dean returns carrying takeout. “The place is owned by Gabriel L. Laufeyson.”

Dean pauses. “As in Loki Laufeyson?” He grins. “He took a fake name from the Marvel movies?”

Sam nods grimly. “But get this - I think he’s really Gabriel Crawford.”

Dean flops down on one of the plush white couches and sets his bag of food down on the coffee table. “Seriously?”

“Did you not notice the original Dogs Playing Poker behind the bar?” Sam asks, eyebrows rising. “The Coolidge Museum reported it stolen twelve years ago. It’s worth over five hundred thousand.”

“And you’re positive it’s the real one?” Dean asks.

“Yup.”

“Bold, hiding it in plain sight,” Dean muses, “Then again, I wouldn’t expect anything different from him. Did you hear he stole the Stanley Cup? The replacement isn’t very good.”

Sam frowns. “That’s not true.”

“Bet I could ask him tomorrow.”

“A hundred that’s a rumor.”

Dean grins. “Easier than taking candy from a baby.”

* * *

The blonde girl is back when Dean and Sam enter the bar to meet Chuck a half hour early. Dean jerks his head in her direction, and Sam rolls his eyes but leaves Dean up to his own devices and heads for an empty booth.

“Hey,” Dean says, sliding into a seat next to her.

She gives him an unimpressed look before taking a sip of her whiskey.

Ouch. Well, nobody ever said Dean couldn’t take a hint. He might be a grifter, but he's not a creep.

Dean ignores her in favor of the painting behind the bar. He doesn’t have a crap ton of art expertise, but he’s picked up a few things. A lot of money travels in the high-end art circles, and Dean has stolen a painting or five before. This Dogs Playing Poker seems like the real deal.

Sam had picked up chatter on the web about Gabriel running with a whole crew of thieves, each with their own specialty. He fell off the map soon after those rumors died.

Dean flags down the bartender and gets two drinks to bring back to Sam, who’s probably doing something illegal on his phone.

Fifteen minutes later, Dean jerks his head to where a short, bearded man and a taller bearded man stand in the doorway. He mutters to Sam, “There’s Chuck.”

Sam pockets his phone, and Dean grabs their half-empty drinks. Together, they make their way over to where Chuck and his companion are settling in their own booth.

“Sam, Dean,” Chuck says, delighted. “You came! Have a seat.”

Cautiously, Sam slides in and Dean after him.

“This is Benny Lafitte,” Chuck says, gesturing to the other man. “Hitter.”

“Retrieval specialist,” Benny corrects under his breath.

“I’m Sam,” Sam says, reaching out his hand to shake over the table.

Dean starts, “And I’m-”

“James Hetfield, John Bonham, or is it Angus Young?” cuts in the blonde girl, appearing by their table and holding, goddammit, Dean’s wallet in her hands.

“What the fuck?” Dean snatches it back.

“And this is Jo,” Chuck says, glancing between them nervously. “Thief.”

“Yeah, I put that one together for myself, thanks,” Dean grumbles as Jo slides into the booth next to him.

“Hi,” Sam says, reaching around her to shake her hand too. “I’m Sam.”

“Hacker,” Chuck inserts quickly.

“And this is Dean.”

“Grifter,” Chuck adds.

“Thanks?” Sam says dubiously to Chuck.

“You’re welcome,” Chuck says magnanimously. “Now, I bet you’re all wondering why I gathered you here.” He lowers his voice, holding for dramatic effect. “I need you to steal the very first printing of of Dante’s Divine Comedy.”

Over the course of a few rounds, Chuck tells them that book is being temporarily kept in the vaults of Mountaintop Insurance, where Chuck used to work until a year ago until they fired him for working on his book on company time. At least, that’s what it says on paper.

According to Chuck, he lost his job because his old Hitter joined the company as a fixer and reported him to management.

Chuck has no idea what his old Hacker and Thief are doing, probably back on the con. Raphael and Lucifer never worked well with others.

His old Grifter, of course, retired and opened a bar.

Gabriel even stops by once Chuck starts slurring his words. “Think it’s time to cut you off, old man,” Gabriel says as he leaves a pitcher of water on the table. He surveys them all thoughtfully. “So these are your replacement kids?”

Dean does a double-take. “You’re Gabriel?”

“In the flesh,” Gabriel says, preening a little. He points at Dean. “You’re the new grifter? It’s eerie, almost like looking in a mirror.”

“Hey, wait a second-”

“Is it true you stole the Stanley Cup?” Sam interrupts.

Gabriel rocks back on his heels. “Who says the Stanley Cup is missing?”

“Nobody,” Dean says, “but I’m saying the fake is shit.”

Gabriel winces. “Yeah, talk about a rush job.”

Dean throws Sam a triumphant smile, and Sam begrudgingly forks over two fifties.

“Okay, we’ve got to hear that story,” Benny says into the silence.

Gabriel shoves himself into the booth next to Chuck and starts talking.

* * *

Jo steals Dean’s wallet no fewer than seven times while they plan the heist, sometimes in the elevator up to the hotel room where they’re doing the planning, sometimes from the short walk from the elevator to their room. “If you don’t want me lifting it so often, you shouldn’t make it so easy,” she says, sipping at the coffee she paid for with Dean’s petty cash.

At least she yanks Sam’s wallet just as many times. He goes apeshit when she takes his phone, so she sticks strictly to money after that.

“How come she doesn’t pull this shit with you?” Dean grouses to Benny as he counts how many twenties Jo left this time.

“Because I threatened to chop her hands off with a cleaver the first time she did it,” Benny drawls.

“Wait, seriously?” Dean asks, squinting over the draft table at Benny, who honestly seems like the least violent out of all of them, including Chuck.

Jo rolls her eyes from where she’s perched cross-legged on the coffee table. “He - unlike some people - can catch me in the act.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “It’s no fun if I get caught.”

Benny smiles broadly. “The hazards of running three years of cons with her.”

Sam raises his head over the edge of his computer screen. “You’ve been partners for three years?”

Benny nods. “She’s the best thief in the business.”

“Aw, Benny, you say the nicest things. You’re the best cook I know - don’t tell my mother I said that.”

“Cook?” Dean echoes, intrigued.

“But he’s a good fighter too, right?” Sam adds, brow pinching.

Jo frowns. “Of course. But he doesn’t like bragging about it - or talking about it at at all.”

“You don’t?” Dean asks, intrigued.

“Then why do you do it?” Sam adds.

Benny throws both of them a dark look. “Do either of you like dwelling on the people you hurt? In my line of business, I don’t hurt people through a computer screen or charm them until they actually ask for it themselves. It’s just me and them, until it’s just me.”

Dean shrugs. “I mean, I’ve been in my fair share of bar fights. Nothing’s more satisfying than knocking out an asshole getting handsy with a waitress.”

Benny’s expression lightens a fraction. “I once… escorted out a man saying inappropriate things to Jo.”

Jo fiddles with her nails. “And then I tasered him once Benny got him out of view of CCTV.”

Benny shoots her a half-fond, half-exasperated look. “To be fair, I didn’t know you were following me.”

“Well, duh,” Jo says, rolling her eyes, “You wouldn’t let me get anywhere near him with my taser.”

“Jo can be a little… trigger happy when she’s in a state,” Benny says delicately.

Sam subtly angles his computer between him and Jo.

* * *

“So how did Chuck find you, anyway?” Dean asks. It’s just him and Jo in the hotel room, as Benny had left to make his own lunch, and Sam had taken off for a local Starbucks to launch a vicious phishing attack on anyone with an @mountaintop.com email address over the age of 65. The television plays some informercial on mute in the background.

Jo shrugs and pops a grape from her fruit salad in her mouth. “No idea. Just, one day, he contacts me out of the blue and says he knows all about my heists.”

“Did he want you to do a job for him?”

Jo shakes his head.

“What’d he want?”

“Information,” Jo says. “I talked to him. He took notes. A year later, his first book comes out.”

“And Benny?”

“Got the same deal as me,” Jo says, holding out her bowl of fruit.

Dean takes a blueberry.

“I think Benny was easier for Chuck to find since he’s ex-special forces - Delta something or other? Anyway Taxi Driver hits the shelves, and the rest is history.” She squints at him. “Did Chuck offer you a different deal?”

“He never gave us a deal,” Dean says honestly. “Sammy and I had no idea who Chuck was until he sent us an email two weeks ago.”

“Wait,” Jo says, setting down her fruit, “He didn’t talk to you at all for his books?”

Dean shakes his head.

“Weird.”

“He must’ve talked to everybody else,” Dean says bitterly. “The details… that’s not in any police record or newspaper expose.”

Jo says thoughtfully, “You know, you’re a lot nicer than I’d thought from Chuck’s books.”

“I can be nice,” Dean says, stung.

“I mean, like, genuinely nice,” Jo says, rolling her eyes. “Not many guys would let me pick their pockets over and over.”

Dean’s mouth twists. “It’s not like I could threaten you with a cleaver - you’d probably tase me from an air vent before I got close.”

“You could at least make it hard,” Jo says, tossing her hair behind her shoulder. “Sometimes I think you’re letting me do it. I’m not sure why, though.”

“I zipped up my pocket last time!”

“As if that’s a challenge,” Jo sniffs.

They sit in silence, Jo finishing up her fruit salad, Dean idly flipping through daytime television.

Out of the blue, Jo asks, “Did you really do all those things to Darla?”

Dean turns to her in surprise. “Darla?” he repeats, scouring his memory. “I don’t know any - oh, Layla,” he says quietly. “Layla Rourke.”

“Yeah, her,” Jo says, eagerly. “She was dying of cancer and you-”

“I know what I did,” Dean cuts her off bitterly. He runs a hand through his hair. “If it matters at all, I had no idea about her tumor when I did that job. It was just migraines, as far as we knew. And by the time I did-”

“You were in too deep?”

Dean leans forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. He can still see Layla’s face, shining with hope and faith. He’d been posing as some new age preacher, worming his way into her life through her mother, who checked her daily astrology horoscope, had a psychic on retainer, and once spent twelve thousand dollars on a month’s worth of sessions with a medium to contact her late husband. Layla didn’t buy into it entirely before she met Dean, but, by the end, she was a believer.

“I couldn’t tell her it was all bullshit and wreck whatever placebo effect was working its magic,” Dean says in a low voice.

“Please tell me you at least did something good with the money you took from her family.”

Dean shrugs. “Donated 90% to Sloan Kettering, the rest to the development of a new pain drug in Israel. It has weed in it, so they can’t do the research state-side.”

Hesitantly, Jo pats his arm.

Dean snorts and eats a piece of melon. “Not my finest moment.”

“No,” Jo agrees. She meets his gaze. “Have you read Chuck’s books about me?”

Dean shakes his head.

Jo gets to her feet and stretches. “You should check out Carthage.” She pauses. “Do you know why Chuck writes about us - me and Benny?”

“Because they sell?”

“Chuck tried to write about a bunch of thieves before he got to us. They all told him to fuck off.” One corner of her mouth raises in a small smile. “But not us. We all have red in our ledger, but Benny and I see this as a way to get some of it wiped out. Get the whole story out there.”

“Have you ever thought of doing something else?”

Jo laughs. “What else would I do? And what company would ever trust me to walk the straight and narrow with my history?”

Dean doesn’t have an answer for her.

* * *

At noon on the dot, Dean strides through the halls of Mountaintop Insurance. Clad in a perfectly tailored suit and holding a smart briefcase, Dean strides up to the welcome desk. “Hello, I’m Richard Cole from Sandover Securities here to demo our data security software for Amara Tenebris.”

The receptionist, Adina, gives him a professional little nod and picks up the phone.

Dean watches as her face falls into a mask of confusion.

“Sir,” she says, looking up, “Ms. Tenebris says you have no meeting today.”

Dean braces one elbow on the desk, “Tell her it’s about the cyber attack on Mountaintop’s top executives yesterday.”

Obediently, Adina relays this information, and her eyes widen at whatever Amara is saying on the other end of the line. Adina hangs up the phone and tells Dean, her voice faint, “Her office is on the eleventh floor.”

“Thanks,” Dean says with a wink.

On the way to Amara, Head of Securities for Mountaintop Insurance, Dean passes dozens of cubicles, all full of people eating at their desks. He doubles back and finally lucks out with an empty office. “Found a computer,” he says into his earpiece as he slides Sam’s USB into the port.

After Sam confirms he’s in the system, Dean makes his way to Amara’s office. Through the glass, he a woman behind the desk and a man seated in front, next to an empty chair. Dean raps his knuckles on the door. “Ms. Tenebris?” he asks, willing himself to keep his gaze on her instead of flicking back to the unknown entity.

“Mr. Cole.” Amara gets to her feet. “You have some gumption.”

Dean smiles and holds out his hand. “I prefer confidence.”

The man lets out a snort that he poorly attempts to disguise as a cough.

Dean shoots him a look before turning back to Amara.

“I’m sure you do,” Amara says as she sits back down. “This is my colleague, Castiel Vauxhall. He’s our Vice President of finances.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Dean says, shaking his hand as well.

Castiel’s grip is just the wrong side of firm - a man with something to prove. Internally, Dean recalculates his plan to include Castiel, conventionally handsome, with a C-Suite office. Powerful men like him, they often have the strangest insecurities. It’s all about sniffing them out without getting caught.

As Dean sits back down, he catches Castiel giving him a quick but thorough once-over. Bingo.

“So, I assume this is about the emails most of our board and senior executives received yesterday?” Amara says as she settles back into her seat.

“Indeed,” Dean pulls his laptop out of his briefcase and opens to the first slide of his presentation. “At Sandover, we took the liberty of a preemptive check of your systems and found quite a few holes, as you can see here.” He points to the colorful pie graph.

Amara and Castiel sit through his bullshit pitch patiently. To Dean’s surprise, Amara, not Castiel, sometimes pauses him for questions and fights him on the quote he offers her for an initial fee, but otherwise it seems like an easy sell. Not surprising, since Sam scammed about fifty thousand from that first round of emails.

Castiel listens without interrupting once. Dude has an intense stare.

“Well,” Amara says, standing up and pocketing his business card, “I will have to get back to you before we review any contracts with Sandover, but you just made a very compelling argument, Mr. Cole. If you’ll excuse me, I have another meeting.”

Dean smiles. Not bad for about twenty minutes of preparation while Jo threw popcorn at his head.

“If you wouldn’t mind staying,” Castiel says, speaking up. “I have a few additional questions for you.”

Dean’s a professional so he doesn’t tell Castiel to shove his additional questions up his ass. Instead he pastes on a charming smile and sits back down. Castiel had been giving him eyes throughout the presentation, and Dean's been around this rodeo a time or two. “Of course.”

Castiel waves off Amara. He waits until the door closes behind her to turn to Dean and say, his expression grave, “You need to call off the job right now.”

Dean blinks. “But Mountaintop hasn’t signed anything-”

“Not that,” Castiel waves off his protest, “whatever you are doing with Chuck Shurley.”

Dean frowns. “I don’t know-”

“Maybe he told you his name was Carver Edlund,” Castiel cuts him off again, eyes narrowing. “Either way, he is going to double cross you and whoever else is working for him.”

Dean studies Castiel closely. He shows no outward display of lying, but those can be overcome (Dean is a walking, talking example of that). “I have no idea-”

“Drop the act, Dean,” Castiel commands in a low voice.

A frisson travels up Dean’s spine. He doesn’t ignore it.

“Yes, I know who you are,” Castiel continues as Dean lets his surprise show on his face, “I’ve been following you and your brother for a long time - do you know how many people you’ve scammed who bought packages with Mountaintop Insurance? Fifteen, with claims totalling over fifty million dollars.”

Dean leans forward in his seat. “Say Chuck is up to something. Why tattle on him? Don’t you want me and my brother in the slammer? Get some retribution for Mountaintop?”

“Retribution for billionaires, war profiteers, and Wall street bankers,” Castiel lists rhetorically as Dean’s mouth falls open, “who take advantage of millions of foreclosed homes?”

Dean scrambles for some sort of response. He comes up with nothing.

“There’s a reason I never told the company to pursue you, your brother, or a select handful of other people who have stolen from Mountaintop’s clients very hard, even though I put the pieces together a few years ago,” Castiel says calmly. “No matter how you spend the money, it can’t be worse than where it came from.”

“And who are you to judge how people spend their fortunes?” Dean challenges, not entirely sure why he’s asking.

“Nobody,” Cas says, “but I’d like to think animal shelters and cancer research is more important than accumulating interest in a bank account or funding a superyacht.”

Dean sighs, rubbing his temple with one hand. “How do you know about that?”

“I followed the money. It’s my area of expertise,” Castiel says succinctly. “Look, do you want to be double-crossed or not? Because if you were sent here to distract Amara, the rest of your crew is probably committing some sort of crime as we speak.”

Dean purses his lips, the last niggling doubt itching at the back of his mind. “Have you got proof that Chuck is pulling a fast one on us?”

“I’m not sure. What are you here to do?”

Dean hesitates, but none of his carefully honed warning signals are going off. Castiel seems nothing but genuine. “Steal the copy of The Divine Comedy.”

Castiel actually smiles. “Chuck is sending you on a wild goose chase for a goose that doesn’t exist. There is no copy here.”

Dean pales. He taps his earpiece, muttering, “Sammy, did you get that?”

No response.

Fuck.

Over the deafening silence, Castiel says, “I assume Chuck eliminated whatever communication you had been using as soon as I accused him of betrayal.”

Pulse racing, Dean jumps to his feet.

Castiel stands too.

Dean stares at him. “What the hell are you doing?”

Castiel throws him an incredulous look. “How do you expect to get anywhere without a senior keycard? I’m coming with you.”

* * *

In the elevator, Dean asks, “What is Chuck getting out of this? Why the Benedict Arnold act?”

Castiel stares straight ahead, his lips thinning. “He wants his old job back. I saw him meeting with Michael late last quarter.”

“He’s trading us for a job?”

“No matter how many royalties he makes off his books, it’s nothing compared to a top position in insurance management. I already said you and your brother cost this company fifty million dollars. Whoever you’re working with, I would bet they cost the company something equal to that if not more.”

“More,” Dean says, based on the anecdotes Jo tossed around over the past two weeks, “Definitely more.”

The elevator dings, and they step out into a brightly lit basement level.

“This way,” Dean says grimly, jerking his head to the left. “Chuck said the vaults were over here.”

They keep walking and turn a corner. Down the hallway, Dean gets the briefest glimpse of a body-armor wearing security guard striding towards them before Castiel yanks Dean back around the corner. He shoves both of them into the first open door, a closet full of empty safety-deposit-like boxes.

“What the fuck?” Dean whispers harshly.

“We needed to hide.”

“I thought you were Mr. Access!” Dean hisses.

“Just because I have access to the lower levels doesn’t mean I should be down here,” Castiel says, the faintest tinge of embarrassment to his voice.

“So you lied to me.”

“I exaggerated.”

“Take it from a grifter - that’s the same thing in the end.” Dean scowls. He can feel Castiel’s warm breath against his cheek. It’s extremely distracting. “What do we do now?”

“Wait for the guard to pass.”

“Great.”

So distracting.

Castiel’s eyes are really blue. Why didn’t Dean notice in the conference room?

Fuck this. They needed to get moving.

Dean reaches up and runs his fingers through Castiel’s hair.

Castiel freezes, still as a statue. “What are you doing?” he demands.

Dean slaps his hand over Castiel’s mouth, pressing down a little harder than necessary and rubbing his hand against Castiel’s lips. He spares split second to mourn the fact that it isn't his mouth ravaging Castiel's - but Dean's a gentleman (thief) at heart. When Castiel kisses him, it will because he wants to, not because of the con.

“Mmph!”

“Shhh,” Dean says loudly as he kicks at the door, just enough to crack it open, “We have to be quiet!”

Castiel’s eyes widen, and Dean almost laughs at the expression on his face. Like he thinks Dean is absolutely insane.

Dean yanks at his own tie, leaving it askew and pushes Castiel out the door. He stumbles out after him, giggling. “Jesus, babe, I told you - oh,” he says, straightening as the guard at the end of the hall turns around in surprise.

The guard swallows. “You’re not supposed to be down here.”

“I wasn’t - I mean, we were - but -” Castiel stutters out, his face the picture of shock.

Dean grins as he makes a show of wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Sorry, man. We’ll go… somewhere else next time.”

The guard reddens, looking away from the pair of them. “Right. You do that.” A clear dismissal.

Dean grabs Castiel’s hand and practically drags him around the next corner. “See,” he mutters, “this is why you shouldn’t trust an accountant to do a grifter’s job.”

“You couldn’t have given me any warning?” Cas hisses.

“The shock needed to be real.”

“I could have lied!”

“With what poker face?” Dean asks, laughing under his breath as he shoulders open the door - already ajar - to the vault area. “Come on. We gotta get Jo and Benny before -”

Bodies litter the entryway. Some sprawled in awkward angles. Dots of blood speckle the floor in the worst Pollock homage Dean has ever seen.

“What the hell happened here?” Cas breathes.

“Benny,” Dean says grimly as they step over bodies. “He was supposed to just watch Jo’s back, but my guess is that they knew he was coming.”

“He took out six men,” Cas says faintly.

“According to Jo, he’s the best - I hadn’t seen it for myself before, though,” Dean says, equally impressed and horrified.

“Dean?” Jo’s voice calls from the last vault in the line. The rest stand wide open and empty.

Benny’s head pokes out from the open door. He’s bleeding from one cheek, and Dean can recognize the beginnings of a black eye. “You weren’t supposed to join us, cher.” His gaze flicks to Cas. “Who’s the stranger?”

“Castiel Vauxhall,” Cas says, stepping forward after Dean and into the vault. “You’ve been double-crossed.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” Jo says, exasperated. More hair than not has escaped her braid, and her forehead has a sweaty sheen to it. “First a bunch of guys jump me, and then the fucking book isn’t here! I cracked open four Glenn-Rieders for nothing!”

“C’mon, we’ve got to split,” Dean says quickly. “Have you heard from Sam lately?”

At their blank faces, Dean swears loudly. He pulls out his phone and dials, waiting with mounting impatience as the phone rings.

“Dean?”

“Hey, Sammy,” he says, and thank god Chuck somehow forgot about phones after their whole discussion about which earpieces to use. The moron spent a whole hour arguing for the most expensive ones with a ton of bells and whistles they didn’t need for the con. “Pull the fire alarm.”

“What?”

“Poughkeepsie. Pull the goddamn fire alarm and stay away from Chuck.”

As he ends the call, alarms flash outside.

* * *

“Well, that was a giant waste of time,” Jo says, throwing her hands up in the air.

Benny just scowls at a nearby tree, clearly not enjoying the peaceful atmosphere of the park near Dean and Sam’s first hotel at all.

Sam sighs. “I should’ve just sent his email straight to the trash. Now we’re all burned.”

“Not necessarily,” Cas says slowly.

Sam glares at him, clearly not believing a word he says.

“Chuck never printed or emailed anything with your names or likenesses on the company premises,” Cas explains.

“He could’ve done it at home,” Dean points out.

Sam lets out a harsh laugh. “No way. His printer’s mostly out of ink.”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean swears, “How the hell did we think he was some sort of criminal mastermind?”

“He used to be,” Cas says evenly. “But then he got complacent. And complacency leads to sloppiness.”

Jo falls onto the nearby park bench, limbs sprawling out. To the sky, she asks in a deadened voice, “What now?”

“We go back to our own corners,” Benny says.

Sam nods, already pulling out his phone.

“Or,” Cas ventures, “You could get revenge.”

Four heads turn to him.

“What?” Jo asks, nonplussed.

“Get revenge on Chuck and Michael,” Cas explains.

“And how do we do that?” Sam asks. “Put their identities up on the dark web? Funnel all their money into debt forgiveness programs? Swap Nair for their shampoo and put itching powder in their underwear drawers?”

Benny stares at him. “You do know one of those is not like the other?”

Cas meets all of their gazes in turn. “I was thinking more along the lines of stealing from their more soulless clients and forcing Mountaintop to pay out millions in insurance claims.”

Sam slides his phone back into his pocket. “Do you have that sort of intel on Mountaintop? A client list? Detailed assets?”

“I am a VP,” Cas assures him. “There is very little I can’t get you about that company.”

Benny nods approvingly.

Jo hops to her feet. “Sounds fun.”

Dean nudges Cas in the side. “When do we get started?”

#suptober21 #destiel #fanfic #destiel fanfic #leverage au #con artist dean winchester #accountant castiel #rae writes fic

[heresalittlestory]

The Gala Event

By The Scoop

‐-----------------------------

You’re at your desk at work one afternoon, taking a break to check your personal email. You get excited when you see that you have a message from Adam Yauch of the Beastie Boys. You’ve known him for a little over a decade, as you did some work for the Milarepa fund in the 90’s.  You’re kind of surprised that you’ve casually stayed in touch with him for all of these years, and even though you’d call him more of an acquaintance than a friend, he’s always been very nice and sweet when you’ve spent time together.  The last time you saw him was a few years ago, when his band was in town touring their To The 5 Boroughs album.

You see some other messages in your inbox, but click on Adam’s first.  He writes that the Beastie Boys will be in your town this summer to tour their upcoming record, and wonders if you’d like to hang out then.  He gives the date for the show, and refers to it a Gala Event, for which you should dress up.  He says there will be another more casual show the night after, and you’re welcome to come to that one, too.  You don’t want to come across as being too eager, but decide to write him back straight away that you’ll be around, and would love to see him in August.  

The following week, you see a news announcement about Beastie Boys tour dates, and feel special that Adam gave you a heads up about them first.  Since that message, you’ve been writing back and forth more frequently, catching each other up on how you’ve been for the past couple of years.  He seems a little more communicative than he was around the time of the previous tour, and you try not to read too much into that.  You’ve always thought he was very attractive, but kept things professional at first with him, and then platonic, assuming those feelings only went one way.  You’ve also both been in relationships over the past decade, and Adam has a daughter, Lila.  You’re not exactly sure about the current status of Adam’s relationship with Lila’s mom, as it’s not something he opens up about a lot, or that gets much attention in the press.

One day Adam sends an email asking whether you’ve picked out something nice to wear yet, and he adds a wink after the question.  You feel your stomach flip, as you can’t tell whether or not he’s being flirtatious.  It also reminds you that you still haven’t settled on your ensemble for the Gala.  You generally don’t dress up too much and aren’t in love with anything in your closet, so decide to go shopping.

At the store, after trying on a lot of things, you settle on a red dress.  The color choice seems a little bold, but you look good in red, and want to stand out from others who will probably be wearing a lot of black.  You feel a little ridiculous also thinking about your undergarments, but decide to buy a new bra and panties for the show, too.  Even if no one else sees them, they’ll make you feel good for that night.

As it gets closer to the date of the show, Adam calls you.  You’re reminded how much you love the tone of his voice and trace of a New York accent.  He mentions that the band will be busy with interviews beforehand, so he probably won’t get to see you till after the show.  He says he’ll put you on his personal guest list, and to make sure you find him backstage later.  You say that sounds like a plan.  Before hanging up, he adds “Don’t forget to dress to impress.”

The day of the show comes, it’s a Friday, and you’re feeling a mix of nerves and excitement.  You tell yourself you’re being silly and to calm down: there’s never been any funny business between you and Adam before, so why should this time be any different?  You’ve been single for about a year now, but you’re still not sure of Adam’s status, and Google didn’t provide any help figuring that out.  In any case, you can’t help but think that you’ve picked up on some flirtation in the correspondence, and something in your gut signals that maybe you should be expecting more than just a friendly hang out tonight.

You arrive at the venue early, and feel a sense of pride seeing your name on Adam’s list.  You’re also handed an access pass to use later in the night.  You make your way up toward the front of the concert hall and see Adam’s bass rig, noticing that a lot of the equipment is clear, which has a cool look.  There are a few bass guitars on stage, including a large upright one.  You’ve always thought Adam looked sexy on the bass, and you’re looking forward to seeing him play more of it tonight.

When the band comes out and takes their places, you spot Adam in a black suit and sunglasses, he appears very dapper.  His hair is a little grown out and looks really nice.  You glance at the others, and though they all look handsome in their suits, Adam Yauch definitely stands out the most to you.

The band starts playing an instrumental that sounds vaguely familiar.  Adam is on the upright bass, and during the song, pulls out a bow with which to play it.  You’re taken aback at how hot it is when he maneuvers the bow over the bass strings.  The rich, deep sound resonates through your body.

Adam switches to another bass guitar, and the band starts playing a song off the new record.  You enjoy watching Adam’s large, skillful hands on the bass.  He flicks the strings a lot with his thumb, and it’s hard for your mind not to wander into the gutter seeing that repetitive motion.  You look at Adam intently, wondering if you’ll catch his eye, but it’s hard to tell with the sunglasses on.

When the band begins a song with vocals, the crowd gets more pumped up, and you’re excited, too.  It’s cool to see them rap while playing instruments.  Adam’s bass strumming has been getting to you, and now his husky rapping is, too.  After a few songs, he takes off his sunglasses and jacket.  He’s wearing a short-sleeve striped shirt, and a tie with some design on it, with a tie pin.  You’re trying to make the out the details on Adam’s tie, and think you see a lion on it, which reminds you that he’s a Leo.  You remember back to when you once looked up your astrological compatibility, not that you entirely believe in those things.  You look back up and see that Adam is staring in your direction, smiling.  You mouth “hey” to him, and he nods in recognition.

You feel a small jolt of electricity as the band goes into the next instrumental.  Maybe it’s something about the suave outfit and his long fingers on the bass, but you’re feeling more attracted to Adam than you’ve felt at previous Beastie Boys shows.  You notice other details, like his persistent gum chewing, and how he’s been taking his ear piece in and out throughout the show.  You brace yourself when the upright bass comes back out.  You can’t deny that you’re turned on by the way Adam strokes the bass neck and moves his fingers across the strings.  You try to calm down, as you’ll be seeing him after the show, and don’t want to feel embarrassed by such thoughts.  It doesn’t help that from this close, you can see his sweat glistening.  

The band gets to Sabotage, and you know it’ll be the last song of the night.  You see out of the corner of your eye that their keyboardist is doing some crazy moves, but you can’t take your eyes off Adam.  He takes his bass off at the end of the song and picks up a water bottle.  You watch Adam wave as he walks off stage, and swear that you catch him winking at you.

As the crowd starts to file away, you get your access pass out of your purse and use it to get in the back area of the venue.  You’re eventually let into a room where the band is.  You admittedly feel some relief when you see that Adam’s partner (or former partner?) isn’t around, as both Mike’s and Adrock’s wives are there.  Mike’s young sons are running around the room too.  You’re feeling pretty dehydrated, but take a glass of champagne when a tray of it is passed by you.  At least you have something to occupy your hands with now.  You take some sips and try to get Adam to notice you.  Your eyes meet and he wraps up the conversation he was having.  He walks over to you and says, “Hey, red…,” instead of calling you by your name, “love the dress.”  You blush a little and thank him.  You notice he’s changed from the button down top into a polo shirt.  He manages to look very cute and sexy all at once.  You tell him how much you enjoyed the show and seeing the full band play throughout. “Oh thanks, you weren’t too bored? It seems like some people prefer the hip hop shows.”

You notice that the room is beginning to clear out.  Adam mentions that some of the band and crew are heading to a nearby bar, “I said I’d be catching up with an old friend, if you’d rather bail on that.”  You’re happy that he’s mentioned an out, though you’re not quite sure what he has in mind for you both.  “Hang on a sec,” Adam says as he grabs his backpack, and also something that looks like an instrument holder, “just gonna take some things back with me.”

You step out the venue door and Adam gently touches the small of your back with his free hand.  A shiver goes up your spine.  Adam remarks that the hotel is nearby, so you walk the few blocks there.  It’s one of the nicer hotels in town.  This is the first time you’ve been back to a hotel with him.  It seems like it could be the prelude to a hook up, but you still don’t want to get caught up in wishful thinking.

You and Adam get in the elevator and he pushes the button for a high floor.  “And here we are,” he remarks, opening the door into a large suite.  “Not too shabby,” you note, looking around.  “Yeah, we do alright now,” Adam responds with a chuckle.  He has the cutest sounding laugh, and you love how his smile is emphasized by his overbite.  You don’t think of yourself as a very funny person, but you know that Adam can be, and you hope to joke with him and hear more of his laughter when you’re together.  You realize you’ve gotten a little lightheaded from the champagne.  As if reading your mind, Adam asks if you want something to eat or drink.  There are several water bottles lined up on the counter, and he hands you one.  He opens the door to the mini bar, which is pretty well stocked.  You sit down and snack together.

The conversation flows easily enough.  You share a lot of cultural interests, but also fill each other in on some things that the other hasn’t heard about.  Adam recommends a documentary called the 11th hour, about how dire global warming has gotten and the opportunities we have to address the situation before it’s too late.  You’re not surprised to hear him sound passionate on the topic.  Meanwhile, you’re slightly distracted, as you can’t help but be really curious by now about his relationship status.  He’s mentioned his daughter in emails, so you think of using kids as a way to broach the topic.  You mention how you saw Mike’s sons backstage.  “Oh yeah, they’ve been coming along, and Lila’s been with me some of the tour, but her mom has her now.”  It sounds to you like they may not be an item anymore.  All you say in response is, “Oh…,” and then Adam continues, “yeah, it’s been about a year and a half actually, things didn’t work out between us.  But it was friendly, well, about as friendly as those things can be.  We still live near each other in the city, and pretty much share custody, so it works out at least, in that way.”  You want Adam to be happy and on the one hand, are sorry to hear that the relationship, which involved a kid, didn’t work out.  But on the other hand, you feel glad, as selfish as it may be, that Adam could be available now.  If he’s even interested in you in that way.

You tell him you’re sorry to hear what happened, but are glad he still gets to see Lila a lot.  “Yeah, being a dad, it’s the greatest…,” he starts to say, and then trails off, looking at you as if what he said may have had some effect on you.  You’re a single woman in your early 40’s, so the child-bearing window may be not open too much longer. You used to think that you’d be married and a mom by this point in your life, but after your longest, most serious relationships ended in your 30’s, you haven’t met anyone who’s been that great a prospect.  Adam knows some of your story already.  You don’t want to bore him with extra information about the ups and downs of your love life, so you mention that you haven’t been seeing anyone for a while, and really enjoy being an aunt to your niece and nephew.

Adam moves from the chair to a loveseat and motions for you to join him.  He has his arm up on the sofa cushion, which you take as a cue to sit a little closer to him.  “I was really looking forward to seeing you tonight.  You know, red’s a really great color for you.”  You feel his eyes scanning your body, and you’re flattered to be complimented by someone so attractive, talented, and intelligent.  The conversation goes to how long you’ve known each other and how you always enjoy each other’s company.  You wonder why you haven’t gotten together more often through the years.  Adam’s hand moves down to your shoulder, and he seems to be looking at you more intently.  He’s so gorgeous from this close, with large, soulful eyes, and full lips that you want to kiss so badly.  You feel yourself flushing and swooning.  You take your chances and move your face a little closer to his, and are delighted when you sense him lean in for a kiss.

Your lips touch softly at first.  You detect a minty flavor, which must have lingered from his gum.  You inhale and enjoy his smell, it’s slightly musky, and you think of how sweaty he got during the show.  You normally prefer for guys to be cleaned up, but find it a turn on for Adam to be in this state.  The kiss turns more passionate soon as your tongues meet and explore each other’s mouths.

You kiss and suck at each other more feverishly, feeling the heat from each other’s bodies.  You run your hands through his thick hair, and up and down his lean back.  He slides a hand down along your side, it grazes the edge of your breast and then settles on your thigh.  Adam moves his hand to the inner side of your knee, just underneath your dress.  You squeeze his hand between your thighs, thinking of how close his fingers are to where you really want to be touched.  You usually don’t get wet as easily as you did when you were younger, but it’s like Adam has opened up the floodgates inside of you.  You don’t necessarily buy into everything happening for a reason, but you’re glad you’re hooking up with Adam at this stage in your life.  You feel more comfortable with yourself and sexually confident now.  As much as you’re enjoying kissing Adam, you decide to back out of the embrace, and see if he’s game for something different.  You’d be fine having any kind of sex with him, but you want to try to make the evening memorable.  You also recall how great he looked playing the bass, and that gives you an idea.  

“Is everything okay?” Adam asks.  “Oh yeah, I’m good, really good,” you say, reassuring him that you’re pleased with the direction in which things are moving.  “I was just thinking about the show again, and what a great bass player you are.”    

“Me?  I don’t know, I guess if you work at something long enough.”

You’re touched that he seems so humble about his talent.  “It just looks complicated.  I mean, especially that big bass.  I can barely strum a few chords on the guitar.”

“It’s not so hard to pick up if you practice for a while, and…,” he trails off.

“And what?”

“Well, this might sound silly, but my hands are pretty big, which makes it easier to play, I guess.” Adam turns his hands over and you hold them in yours, as your mind moves back into the gutter.  You don’t think you’ve ever been with a guy who has hands quite like his.

 “Why don’t you show me?” you request, pulling Adam up from the couch.  “What’s that song called, Sabrosa?”

“I don’t have the bass here with me.”

You look at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes, “I mean, demonstrate on me…”

Adam smirks in response, “Oh, I think I know what you’re getting at.”  He stands behind you, and you ask, “Doesn’t Sabrosa mean tasty?”

“Something like that,” he answers with a

chuckle- it’s music to your ears to hear that laughter again.  “Okay then, this is the hand that goes on the bass neck,” he states, putting his left hand on your breast.  He arranges his dexterous fingers into some formation, as if he were playing bass notes.  “And this one here, it plays the strings,” Adam continues, moving his right hand onto your crotch.  He brushes his long fingers against you, as if he’s both swiping at and strumming you.  Just as you’re wondering what kind of fuckery this is, Adam says, “And sometimes, you have to put your whole body into it.” He presses against you, and you feel his cock pulse against your backside.  You can’t help but tremble from the ripples of pleasure coursing through you.  Adam comments, “well, it goes something like that, playing the song, but the bass doesn’t move quite that much.”  He giggles again.  You didn’t want him to stop “playing” you, but you enjoy being teased.

“You know, I actually brought something with me,” Adam starts, and goes over to what you thought was an instrument case.  He opens it and reveals the bow inside.  If he doesn’t have his bass with him, you wonder why he brought the bow.  You’re pleased at the forethought this would have required, and that his mind might be in the same kinky place as yours.  “I like using this bow sometimes, you can get a really nice sound out of the bass with it.”  Adam comes back over to you, gripping the bow as if he were about to use it on a bass.  He rubs the bow string back and forth on your dress, right over your sensitive area.  You make a pleased hum, and Adam brings the bow across you one more time, “Works like a charm.”

“I think you need to help me unzip my dress now,” you state.  “Sure thing,” Adam replies, placing the bow back down.  He undoes your zipper, but the dress still hangs loosely from your hips.  “Maybe I can use this again,” Adam says, picking up the bow.  You stand still as he uses the bow to nudge the dress down over your hips.  Your breath quickens and you step out of the dress.  You’re glad now that you splurged for the nice underwear.  Adam eyes you up and down and gives a little whistle, “well you dressed to impress, and I’d say, this is also undressing to impress.”  Your body isn’t as slim as it used to be, but you’re still in decent shape for your age.  You’re glad he seems to appreciate you as you are.

“I think it’s your turn now,” you declare, and Adams removes his shirt and pants pretty quickly.  He’s remained trim, but that doesn’t surprise you, as he’s always been a skinny guy.  Seeing all his skin, and body hair, makes your groin ache even more.  You get another idea, which seems a little crazy for foreplay, but you’re on a roll, and decide to speak up again.  “Let’s go to the bedroom,” you declare, as you lead Adam by the hand to the king-sized bed.  You tell him to lie on his back.  You stand over him and strip off your bra and underwear.  “I want to feel you all over, with my cunt,” you say, as you lower yourself down near his feet, “if you’re cool with that.”  Adam looks at you expectantly and replies, “I’m game for whatever.”

You’re not quite sure what’s come over you.  You realize you’ve had latent feelings for Adam for years, and they’re all bubbling to the surface now.  And he’s so hot it’s like he’s awakened some primal instinct in you.  Sure, you’ve humped guys’ thighs before when feeling frisky, or rubbed an arm against your crotch, but you’ve never done anything like what you’re planning now.  You grab one of Adam’s feet, they’re large like his hands, with long toes.  “So, do you have a foot thing?” Adam asks.

“No,” you blush a little, feeling kind of embarrassed, but Adam seems open-minded enough.  “As I said, I just want to feel all your parts- here.”  You take hold of his big toe, and move it toward your crotch.  Adam’s propped up on his elbows and watching with interest.  You press his toe against your labia, and rock back and forth against it.  “Someone’s very wet,” Adam comments.  You think how you’ll be leaving a trail along his body.  You hold his foot as you move over his ankle, and then slowly slide up his shin, feeling his leg hair against you.  You ask Adam to bend his legs so you can get onto his knee.  “Knee fucking? Can’t say I’ve done that before,” Adam remarks, laughing again.  Not in a laughing at you kind of way, but in an enjoying being your partner in crime kind of way.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything.”  You feel kind of proud for debasing him, considering that he probably did some debauched things in his early years with the band.  You move in small circles around his knee.  You feel so wet and pliable, almost as if your cunt could swallow his kneecap.  You’re in a nice zone where everything feels really good between your legs.

You continue with this body part exploration, sliding down his thigh.  Adam’s boxers are still on and you can tell he’s semi-erect.  As eager as you are to bring his cock into action, you move past it.  You dip down to reach his concave torso, rubbing along the patch of hair that extends from over his waistband to above his navel.  You feel the bump from his ribcage, and rub over a nipple as you move up.  You ask Adam to sit up, admiring his bare shoulders.  You lower yourself onto the bony part, and press against it for a while.

Adam has been watching you with bemusement.  You get off his shoulder and position his arm so that his elbow juts out.  You pull that protrusion into your crotch, liking how that feels as well.  You’re excited to be getting close to his forearms, as you were looking at them with desire during the concert.  You ask Adam to lie back down and move on top of one of his forearms.  His arm hairs tickle your cunt as your slickness slides against him.  You love how he’s not hairy all over but has furry forearms and legs.  You feel kind of like a dog humping at him, but don’t care as it’s so pleasurable.  Adam’s free hand grabs your ass.  You move lower down to reach his wrist bone, too.

You get up and hold onto one of his oversized hands.  You feel like your cunt could just devour it.  You rub your thumb along the patch of hair that extends onto the back of his hand, and then press a few of Adam’s knuckles into your folds.  You then grasp his index and middle fingers.  You notice a crook in the top joint of his middle finger.  These little features somehow make you hornier for him, if that’s even possible.  You shove his fingers into your soaking cunt, and moan as you feel how deep inside of you they reach.  Adam continues to let you be the driver; you know that he could make you come if he did something with his hands, but you’re still trying to delay that final gratification.  You take his fingers out and bring them up to his mouth.  You’re pleased that he reads the cue and licks at your wetness.

You motion for Adam to sit up, and brush his hair back to look more closely at his ear.  Even the size and shape of this man’s ears get to you. You’ve never been so into all these details with any other guy before.  It’s like he’s a perfectly beautiful creation.  You position Adam’s head so you can get at his ear with your cunt, starting at the earlobe and working your way up along the outer edge.  Adam shivers a little and you ask if he’s alright.  

“Yeah, I guess I’m just sensitive there- a good sensitive.”  You press against the ridge of his ear again and he emits a soft, low grunt.    

You ask Adam to lie down once again.  You’re still studying what a gorgeous face he has.  You move your fingertip gently across his long eye lashes.  “Yo, I’m not sure that’ll work,” Adam comments, and you both start laughing.  “Okay, we’ll leave your eyes out of this,” you say, though catch him off guard as you move your groin over his hairline.  You’ve been admiring his hair all evening, it looks adorable now sticking up in different directions.  You feel its texture along your most intimate spots.  You then position yourself above Adam’s nose- his lovely nose, with its long, strong line, and small bump near the top.  Adam takes a big inhale and you gently ride his nose.  You hit against his upper lip, but surprise him again by hopping off before getting to all of his mouth.  “I’m moving here now,” you remark, as you sit back against the pillows and spread your legs, finally beckoning Adam to have his way with you.  

     “You know, I just remembered, I have one more thing in the case,” Adam says.  You’re so ready for more now, but you wait as he goes into the other room to get whatever’s in the case.  He comes back into the bedroom with his ear piece from the concert, dangling around his neck.  That ear piece, that you watched him keep pulling out and pushing in, being turned on by the motions.  Adam stands at the foot of the bed and takes off his underwear.  You don’t always get that excited over the sight of a man’s cock, viewing it as more of a utilitarian appendage, but of course Adam’s looks just as nice as the rest of his body does.

     “Maybe I should have gotten this out earlier, you’re probably too wet for it now,” Adam remarks, holding up one end of the ear piece.  He continues, “I’ve got a spare, of course, but I don’t know what I’d tell the crew about how I wrecked this pair,” he laughs a little more.  Adam comes onto the bed and rubs the ear piece along your leg, moving it up to your inner thigh.  Once again, you’re thankful and pleased that he’s also had kinky ideas.  The ear piece reaches the top of your thigh, then Adam places it in between your collar bones.  He slides it down between your breasts, and stops above your crotch.  You’re thinking how turned on you’d be if he pressed it against you there, but he touches with his finger and says, “yeah, too wet, as I knew, maybe another time.”  At the mention of “another time,” it feels like your heart skips a beat.

     You ask, “did you have anything else in that case?”

     “Nah, that was it.  I’d considered bringing a bass pick, too, but thought it could be a little too sharp,” and you both laugh together.  You like how you can move seamlessly between funny and erotic moments with him.  “Well, these look really soft,” you say, moving your fingers along his lips.  Your cunt quivers as you trace his bow-shaped upper lip.

     Adam places the ear piece on the night stand and brushes his slim fingers along your inner thighs.  Then he brings his mouth to your thighs- kissing, licking, and taking little bites along the way.  You’re so turned on already you feel like you might come almost as soon as his mouth touches your cunt.  He’s taking his time getting to the sweet spot.  He licks along where your thigh meets your groin on both sides.  He then moves up and squeezes your breasts together.  He starts sucking on one nipple while grabbing the other breast, and switches off.  Your whole body feels on fire.  Then he moves back down and kisses your labia, finally getting between them.  When he starts licking and sucking at your depths, it feels amazing.  You cry out in ecstasy, only wondering for a moment how soundproof the hotel walls are.  You mutter “oh fuck” and “oh god” as Adam continues to satisfy you.  He looks up at you, and it’s nearly too intense to meet his gaze.  You grab a handful of his luscious hair as he buries his head in you again, and you rock against him. You sense the sweet release coming soon, and convulse as all the pleasure that’s been building up through the evening reaches a crescendo.  You feel like you’re seeing stars.

     As you slowly come back to your senses, Adam remarks, “well, I guess that worked out better than the ear piece.”  You respond, “or the bass pick,” and playfully shove his shoulder.    “You’ve really been great,” you say, placing your hand on his erect cock, “can I do something for you now?”

“Don’t worry about me, I’ve been loving all this so far, and now I’m really ready to fuck you.”

You repeat his phrase about “another time,” and he smiles.  He kneels in front of you, asking “you okay, doing it like this?”  You tell him you’re on the pill, and it’s fine to proceed.  You’re not even sure how functional your ovaries still are, but you’ve stayed on the pill, and trust Adam otherwise.

He doesn’t waste any time penetrating you fully, and it feels so good to be filled up by his length.  As he starts moving in and out, you notice him glancing down to where the action is happening, and you think it’s hot that he’s looking.  He holds onto and adjusts your legs, and begins thrusting more aggressively, emitting some low grunts.  And you get noisy again as his cock hits against your deepest part.  Adam tells you how great you feel.  You close your eyes for a time, enjoying all the sensations.

Adam then slows the rhythm down and lies more directly on top of you.  It’s nice to feel his weight.  He looks into your eyes and it seems like it’s just the two of you on this planet.  “I really like you,” he says, emphasizing the “really.”  Your eyes tear up- you don’t want to appear too emotional- but can’t help it.  One tear escapes, and Adam wipes it with his thumb, “It’s okay now.”

“It’s just, me too, I mean, I really like you, too,” you say back to him, feeling tongue-tied.  The mood had recently been more playful and sexy, but you don’t mind this sentimental turn.  You feel good and safe with Adam.  And here you are, with him inside of you, hearing that he really likes you.  You can’t deny that you’ve had interest in him over the years.  Even when you were with other guys, you still occasionally thought about Adam, but never considered it a possibility that your friendship could go to another level.  Maybe it could now.  You don’t know if you just have this one night together, but you’re going to savor the moment while it lasts.

You kiss, and Adam’s tongue probes your mouth, just as his cock fills you deeply.  He nibbles on your lip, and your cunt clenches around him.  You grind into each other, with your breath hot against each other’s ears.  You put your hand on his ass, like you want to press him even further into you. You wish to meld into one.

Adam rises back up into a kneeling position.  He starts rubbing your clit in time with his movements.  It’s almost too much to bear, and you sputter, “oh fuuuck…Adam.”  You can see he’s happy that he’s turned you into a noisy, squirming mess.  The pleasure grows into a final explosive burst, and Adam clasps one of your hands, as if to steady you.

You brace yourself to continue fucking; it feels like he’s already excavated a small cave inside of you.  You’re not surprised at his stamina after witnessing his energy on stage.  While you’re kind of tired, you go on moving your body in rhythm with his.  His thrusting picks up in intensity, and then you feel his cock twitch inside of you as he lets out a raspy moan.  He lowers his face to yours, and you kiss.  He pushes into you a couple more times, and you delight in the warmth between your legs.

After he rolls off of you, you turn onto your side and move a hand to his small patch of chest hair, as he holds his arm around you.  You breathe in his scent, feeling very satisfied.  “I guess it’s a little late for me to go back now,” you say.  Adam squeezes you and replies, “oh, you’re not going anywhere.”  You think of how you haven’t brought anything for staying the night, but aren’t too concerned.

You ask, “So was this Gala a special enough event?”  Adam smiles and answers, “For sure, it surpassed my expectations.”  You lift your head to give him some soft, lingering kisses before cuddling against him again.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Adam begins, “but I usually like showering off after a gig, it’s not to do with you.”

“Oh, that’s okay, I was just going to use the bathroom-”

“Go ahead, I’ll go in after you.”

You get up to go to the bathroom, and think how you could join Adam in the shower.  So after he takes his turn in the bathroom, you go in the shower together.  You don’t expect anything else to happen at this hour after everything you’ve done, but it’s nice to be naked with him under the warm water.  You stand in front of Adam as he lathers you up, slightly teasing you with his touch.  You return the favor, and then face each other and kiss, with your bodies pressed tightly together.

     After stepping out of the shower, you see two bathrobes hanging on the door hook.  You put one on, and give the other to Adam, who giggles, and says, “oh, like his and hers?”  He looks so adorable in the white bathrobe.  “You can use my toothbrush, you know,” Adam offers.  As intimate as you’ve been with him, you still feel a little funny taking his brush, so you say you’ll be fine, and just use your finger.

     When you get back into the bedroom, Adam gets out a pair of pajamas and hands you the top, “we can split them.”  You pull the shirt over your head as he slides into the pajama pants.  You admire his build again, and blush a little thinking of how you were rubbing yourself all over him.  You hope he doesn’t think you’re nuts, but he seemed to be into everything you were doing.  Also, he’s the one who rubbed a bow across you.

     While you’re drowsy, your mind is racing with thoughts about how much you like Adam, and wondering where things will go from here.  You don’t want to go back to seeing him every few years on tour.  You wonder if something will change now.  You’re only a few hours from New York, so could see each other more often.  You ponder whether he’s ready for a relationship after the break up.  You’d even look forward to spending time with Lila, but know that’s getting way ahead of yourself.  This is a start, and you’ll have to see what happens.

     You get back into bed with Adam, in the spooning position.  “Again, it was such a great night,” he tells you.

“You don’t think I’m crazy, I mean, that stuff I was doing?”  You can’t help but be somewhat blunt to try to put the worries out of your mind.

“Sexy? Yes. Crazy? No. Besides, if you’re crazy, I guess that makes two of us.”  You’re content with that answer.  Adam continues, “I don’t have to be anywhere till later in the afternoon tomorrow, so we can have some more fun the first part of the day.”  You tell him that sounds good, and say goodnight to each other.  You drift off to sleep, anticipating what the new day will bring.

#beastie boys #nswf fanfiction #the scoop

[fansplaining]

A Note from Fansplaining

If you’re subscribed to Fansplaining on iTunes or another podcatcher, you’ve probably seen that we put out a short statement this week in lieu of a new episode. Because we’re committed to making all audio we release fully accessible, we’ll transcribe the clip at the bottom of this post, below the cut. But fwiw, it’s mostly just explaining what’s in this post:  

Black lives matter. We condemn white supremacy in all its forms. We believe the police should be defunded and dismantled. And we want to make sure everyone who listens to our podcast knows about ways they can contribute to this fight, and ways they can support the Black community (please note that these are U.S.-centric). We’ll be back with a new episode soon, but this is more important than anything we could say right now.

Places to donate

If you’re out of work or have lost hours in the past few months, you may not have money to spare. But even small donations—$5, $10—add up. A few organizations we recommend: 

House of GG, a Black-led organization, is fundraising to build a permanent home in Little Rock, Arkansas where trans and gender-nonconforming people can both be housed and receive leadership training.

G.L.I.T.S. is fundraising to buy two buildings to create a permanent place to house and support Black trans people in New York City, as well as sign leases for space to use in the interim.

Sista Afya, a Chicago-based organization, is fundraising to keep its therapeutic services, social events, and wellness experiences under $15 and to hold large scale events like a free arts festival.

For a larger crowdsourced list, see suggestions here.

Ways to get involved if you can’t physically or monetarily participate

If, like us, you live in New York City, here’s a great resource for actionable things you can do from home. Here’s a national list, though for more granular detail for your town/city/region, you should search social media. Some great google doc action happening right now!! 

As a reminder, when contacting elected officials: 

Always write your own email, rather than use a form. People who work or have worked in these offices strongly advise this, and report that form emails are regularly filtered out, often directly into the trash. 

Always write a postcard rather than a letter. Letters are scanned for things like anthrax and can get held up for days; postcards go straight through.

Ensure you know the official’s position on whatever you’re asking about before you call or write. If they’re already supporting or sponsoring a specific piece of legislation, call them anyway and thank them. They use constituent numbers to show that their positions have a lot of public support. 

Particularly for white and non-BIPOC: reach out to your family members, as much as you feel safe doing so, and speak with them about Black Lives Matter and the issues of the day. If you have language barriers with your family members, or just need a place to start, Letters For Black Lives is a great resource that includes material in many languages.

Stream this video—all ad revenue will go to bail funds, families of victims of racist police brutality, and other Black-led organizations.

Resources on anti-Blackness and racism in fandom

Because we are a fandom podcast, we encourage white fans in particular to continue to listen to Black fans and other fans of color when it comes to racism in fandom. If you’re new to the podcast or haven’t dug into the full back catalogue, we recommend prioritizing: 

Our pair of episodes on race and racism in fandom—especially anti-Blackness in fandom—featured eight different guests. Episodes 22A and B: “Race and Fandom Part 1” and “Race and Fandom Part 2.”

Ebony Elizabeth Thomas was one of our earliest and one of our most recent repeat guests. You can listen to her talk about race, children’s literature, and fandom in episode 7, “The Dark Fantastic” and episode 120, “Ebony Elizabeth Thomas.” Once you’ve listened to these episodes, buy or request that your library purchase a copy of her book, The Dark Fantastic.

Tanya DePass is the founder of I Need Diverse Games. In episode 42, “Fresh Out of Tokens,” she discussed fan/creator interaction and intersectionality in the context of games specifically. 

Rukmini Pande is a well-known scholar of race and fandom. She first joined us in episode 29, “Shipping and Activism,” to talk about the ways that ships intersect with politics; then, she returned in episode 89, “Rukmini Pande,” and discussed her academic work. Once you’ve listened to these episodes, buy or request that your library purchase a copy of her book, Squee From the Margins.

In episode 48, “Con or Bust,” we interviewed Diana Pho and Mark Oshiro, two board members of Con or Bust, an organization that raises money to help fans of color attend conventions.

For further reading, Fan Studies Network North America has put together a great list of resources.

Transcript

[Intro music: “Awel” by stefsax]

Flourish Klink: Hi, Elizabeth.

Elizabeth Minkel: Hi, Flourish.

FK: Welcome to not an episode of Fansplaining. Um, we almost completely canceled recording at all, but we decided that we wanted to record a short thing, because we know some people only receive us through their podcatcher or whatever and don’t ever go to our website or our social media. So it felt important that we actually record something short today.

ELM: All right. So, just off the bat, at the risk of sounding like a terrible brand black .jpg with white letters, I think it should be obvious to everybody right now but it’s always worth restating—Black Lives Matter. We strongly support everything that is happening right now. We both strongly believe that the police should be…what word are we gonna use? Dismantled?

FK: Yes.

ELM: Dismantled. Like, we, like, you know—and like, strongly condemn white supremacy, which is the foundation of our country and much of the world.

FK: Right. So… 

ELM: Very broad statement here, but like, you know, it’s definitely worth stating in explicit terms and not couching it around, you know, just to outright state support for Black people and the fight that is going on right now.

FK: Completely. And we really struggled with whether or not to record an episode because, on the one hand, there’s a lot of topics that we think would be really good to talk about that are within the purview of this podcast—stuff like the way people are using social media to organize, stuff like the entire conversation around K-pop fandom and the way that’s been going down. There’s like five things.

ELM: Spoiler, spoiler: It’s been going down poorly.

FK: Yeah.

ELM: Wait, side note: just anyone, please please please, cause I know a lot of people listen to this podcast and are in fandom but are not in K-pop fandom, if an article that you’re sharing about K-pop fans mobilizing doesn’t acknowledge the, like, rampant anti-Blackness happening within those spaces right now, they haven’t done enough research.

FK: Correct. And also, it’s both that and also if you see the narrative that K-pop fans are only bots, that’s also the other flip bad side of the coin.

ELM: Well, we should—now we’re gettin’ right into it. We’re not actually doing an episode. We’re not actually doing an episode. Yes.

FK: We’re actually gonna talk about this at some point in the future. Right now it feels like, you know, just being two white women talking about this stuff feels like not the thing to do right now? And we also don’t want to right now ask Black people to come on to our podcast and talk about things in a deeply traumatic and horrible moment. So we’re going to put a pin in the podcast and we’re gonna come back with all of those topics and a bunch of guests and basically begin to address this stuff, hopefully in a moment that’s less fraught. Is it ever gonna get less fraught? I don’t know if it’s gonna get less fraught.

ELM: That being said, let’s play it by ear! Because I could not tell you what’s gonna happen two weeks from now, but like… 

FK: [sighs] Yeah, I really don’t know either.

ELM: Just, we’ll see. So in the meantime, we are going to put a post on Tumblr so it’ll be shareable, and we are going to include resources—places to donate, in particular places that aren’t getting as much attention. More grassroots stuff that we’re seeking out right now. And also ways to be active and involved for people who don’t have the money or physical ability to be protesting right now, because I am very aware of the narrative of “You should be in the streets! And if not then you should donate!” And it’s like, well, what happens if you are unemployed and also physically unable to get out there? There are so many ways that you can really be, actively lend your support right now. 

So we’ll put those in there, and then also, we shared on Twitter a thread of great resources about anti-Blackness and racism in fandom, and since this is a fandom podcast we’ll be sharing some of those in that post as well, because it’s all connected.

FK: Absolutely. All right, everyone out there, stay safe, stay strong, if you’re in the streets stay in the streets, and we’ll be back when we can.

ELM: OK, bye Flourish!

FK: Bye, Elizabeth.

[Outro music: “Awel” by stefsax]

#fansplaining #fan culture #fan studies #fandom

[irishseeeker]

Having a crush on your boss is embarrassing. Inappropriate. Wrong. Especially when your boss is Anthony Bridgerton, the most insufferable man on the planet whom you actively despise.

What does Kate have to say on the matter?

...No comment.

~

Kate doesn’t know how it started.

Kate Sheffield did not like her boss. She actively despised her boss, Anthony Bridgerton, and he despised her. It was like a hobby. Her hatred for him was like a pet, like Newton, her gorgeous corgi, that she tended to and nurtured by making Bridgerton’s life as difficult as possible.

Except, something had changed.

She still despised him, she hadn’t gone completely insane-expect, that loathing went from pure loathing to...loathing with a side of oh, Anthony Bridgerton looks good in that suit today.

She now noticed things like when he got a haircut. His chestnut hair had been cut sharp, there was still a bit of height on the top but it was shaven quite tight around his ears.

He looked good.

Really good.

She wasn’t a teenager anymore. She was an adult. A 29 year old adult with a degree. A nice apartment. She even had house plants she managed to keep alive.

She shouldn’t have crushes like this.

Especially on him.

She didn't. Nope. She couldn't. Kate Sheffield did not have a crush on Anthony Bridgerton.

It wasn't possible.

He was just on her mind a lot, she tended to stare at him quite a bit and she may have a new routine of stalking his social media on a daily basis.

So, to conclude, she definitely did not have a crush on Anthony Bridgerton.

It was probably some type of illness. She could have an underlying cold coming on that deluded her into thinking Anthony Bridgerton was good looking and looked really good in expensive suits and his gym gear when it came into the office late every Wednesday after a personal training session in the morning.

Oh God.

It had gotten to the point where it was affecting her work.

Like right now.

She should be working on her mountain of paperwork sitting on her desk, but instead, she was watching Bridgerton stretch through his office glass windows. His office was parallel to hers on the top floor of Bridgerton & Family group building. It was the headquarters of the decades old Bridgerton & Family hotel group. Kate was the head of finance for their United Kingdom group, specifically dealing with approving budgets and projects. She had qualified as an accountant when she was 24 and had moved up from there.

She could see his white shirt, which probably cost more than her rent and was never wrinkled, slowly rise above his waist as he stretched his arms. She could see the outline of his pelvis, and the tanned skin he must have got from his recent work trip to Barbados. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, which showed off his forearms quite nicely. When did he get muscular?

The phone rang, making her jump and resulting in her reusable coffee cup spilling all down her white blouse.

“Shit!”

“All okay?” Sophie, her assistant, popped her head in.

“Just a coffee spill, thanks Sophie.” Kate said, sighing as she grabbed her blazer and buttoned it up, which covered the brown stain on her chest.

“I just sent you the proposal from Anthony!” Sophie called through the door. Sophie Beckett had been Kate’s incredible assistant for a year now. She was a few years younger than Kate, and she was working to put herself through university. Kate dreaded the day she lost her, but also signed her up for company funded courses as Sophie would go far in life and Kate couldn’t wait to see what she achieved.

“Cheers!” Kate shouted back, sitting down at her desk and opening up her email. Her eyes scanned the email and the proposal, and her stomach dropped as her chest filled with fury.

“That motherfucker,” Kate spat, shoving herself away from her desk as she stormed towards Anthony Bridgerton’s office, ready to commit murder.

Gregory, his assistant and younger brother, wasn’t at his desk. She had checked Bridgerton’s work calendar and it was clear, so he wasn’t with a client. She didn’t bother knocking.

That was her first mistake.

“Bridgerton, I don’t know if you were dropped on your head as a child-“

Her voice caught in her throat. His office was occupied by two other men, who had heard every single word she had just said.

That was her second mistake.

“Oh! I am so sorry," Her cheeks flushed with red mortification and she wanted the ground to swallow her whole. "I can come back-”

Anthony sat behind his desk, smugly beaming at her as she flushed in embarrassment. “Ah, Kate. Charming as always. I was waiting for you to storm in and annoy me today. Have you met my brothers? This is Benedict and Colin,” He gestured to the two men sitting in front of him.

“The famous Kate Sheffield,” Benedict extended his hand, grinning at her as he stood up. “It is an honour to meet you.”

“We’ve heard so many great things,” Kate raised an confused eyebrow at Colin as he stood up and spoke, shaking his hand as well. “From Gregory. We’re big fans of your daily torment of our dear older brother.”

“He definitely was dropped, by the way,” said Colin, grinning cheekily at Anthony who scowled at him. “Mother would never admit to it, but it would explain a lot.”

Kate laughed at him as Anthony scowled. “The chances of you getting the travel money you wanted are looking incredibly low, dearest brother,” said Anthony, narrowing his eyes at his Colin. “What did you want, Sheffield? I’m busy.”

There was a knock at the door just as Kate opened her mouth to retort, and Sophie popped her head in the doorway. “Excuse me for interrupting,” She said, looking at Kate. “Kate, there’s an important phone call waiting for you. Hi Anthony.”

"Hey, Sophie," said Anthony, pleasantly smiling at her which made Kate glare at him in disgust. Sophie and Bridgerton liked each other. Sophie had said on more than one occasion that he wasn't as bad as Kate made him out to be, and Kate usually threw a pen at her.

“Thank you, Sophie,” She smiled at her assistant, before turning around back to Bridgerton and putting the proposal on his desk with the word ‘DENIED’ scribbled across it in red sharpie. “I don’t want to see this proposal on my desk again. I don't feel like denying it for a fourth time.”

Benedict had turned around and was staring at Sophie, and Anthony rolled his eyes. This was one of their new arguments, that had been going on for a few weeks over a hotel design proposal that Anthony desperately wanted and Kate wouldn’t approve under any circumstances.

“Your wants aren’t really my concern, Sheffield,” Anthony said, his tone dismissive. “It’s an excellent proposal-”

Kate snorted. “It’s an obnoxious, reckless, extremely over the top hotel proposal that is not going to happen just to boost your ego. The Board would never agree to it and I certainly won’t.”

“We’ll see about that,” He smirked at her, but his eyes were glaring at her. “The Board are very fond of me. I can be very persuasive.”

“You need finance clearance and-oh. Who in finance has that authority?” She tilted her head slightly, before looking back at him to smirk right back at his smug face. “That’s right, me.”

“Who is CEO of the company and whose name is on the company?” Anthony retorted, furrowing his brows before smirking at her. “That’s right,” He mimicked her, “Me.”

“Does this happen often?” Benedict asked, amused as his head flicked between Kate and Anthony.

Gregory Bridgerton, who was eating a packet of crisps, appeared at the doorway and joined the conversation. “Everyday.”

“Every single day,” Sophie added in agreement, smirking slightly which faded as her cheeks turned crimson when she caught Benedict’s eye, quickly looking away.

“No it does not!” Both Kate and Anthony said at the same time.

Kate shook her head in frustration, “I have to go. If you email me that proposal again, I will stamp it once again with DENIED and hammer it onto your door until the message gets through your thick skull.”

“I am your boss, Sheffield,” said Anthony, his tone rather sharp. “You can’t talk to me like that.”

“Oh, forgive me,” Kate said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Should I write it down so you will actually understand what I’m saying?”

Anthony glared at her furiously, pushing himself up with his fists. “You can shove it up your-”

“So lovely to meet you both,” said Kate, interrupting Anthony’s insult loudly as she smiled at his laughing two brothers before walking out of the room, Sophie at her heels.

It was no way to talk to her boss, he was right, but they had long passed the proper etiquette of employer and employee relationships. They regularly insulted and shouted at each other, whether it was in person, over text or on the phone, and it just sort of became what they did. It somehow worked, as they worked well together and the company was making its highest profits to date.

Kate sat at her desk, her heart thumping in her chest. What was she thinking? She did not like that man. He infuriated her. She grabbed her jacket on the back of her chair and quietly screamed into it, then took a deep breath before answering the phone. “Edwina? Is everything okay? Is it Mary? Is it Newton?”

“Relax, Kate,” Her sister said, with amusement in her voice. “I had to say it was an emergency for you to answer during work. It is technically an emergency.”

“Not funny,” Kate mumbled, resting her cheek against her desk and putting the phone on speaker. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

Kate heard her sister swallow before biting the bullet. “I need you to come to this charity gala tonight.”

“No.”

“Kate-”

“No!”

“My date just bailed on me for Paris fashion week. I can’t go alone. It would be so embarrassing. He’s already been photographed with some Russian model this morning,” Her sister’s voice broke slightly. “Please, Katie.”

Edwina was her younger sister by four years, and she was a famous supermodel. She had been scouted when they were walking down Oxford Street, and it had been runways, magazines and brand deals for Edwina ever since. Kate would do anything for her sister, especially when she pleaded with her, even if that thing made Kate want to set herself on fire.

Actually, she probably would prefer having a civilized conversation with Anthony Bridgerton than go to one of Edwina’s events. That’s how much Kate hated them.

She groaned. “Fine, but two hours top. I will choose what I wear and if you try to set me up, I will leave.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! “ Her sister squealed to the phone. “Be at mine at six! Do not be late! I love you.”

“I love you too, but I want you to know at this very moment, I really despise you,” Kate said as she heard her sister chuckle before hanging up. Excellent. She hated Edwina’s events. She had been to many of Edwina’s parties, galas and events, which involved Kate trailing behind her famous sister who everyone cooed and praised and only ever acknowledged Kate with a “Oh! I didn’t know you had a sister!” after Edwina introduced her.

As if her day couldn’t get any worse.

She heard a buzz, and then Sophie’s voice over the intercom. “Can I get you anything?”

Kate groaned. “The will to live.”

“How about a milkshake?”

She lifted her head off her desk slightly, perking up. “Please. Chocolate with extra crème. I’m feeling fragile.”

“Of course, I’ll go right away,” Sophie spoke, hesitating slightly before continuing. “Anthony has just sent an invite for the hotel proposal presentation with the Board in a few weeks. Talktoyoulaterbye!”

Kate’s head snapped up off her desk, “What?” She spat out, fury filling her veins and she twisted her neck towards his office. He was looking right at her, smirking like the devil himself, and he had the audacity to wave.

Kate’s middle finger waved right back.

a/n: chapter 2 coming soon!

#I have no self control #kate x anthony #my first wip in a while #bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #kate sharma #kate sheffield #AU #ao3 #enemies to lovers #boss employee situation #my love for them only grows #kathony #fanfiction #my fics #daphne bridgerton #simon basset #colin bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #the viscount who loved me

[magpiing]

BLM COMMISSIONS

(if you plan on commissioning, READ THRU THIS ENTIRE POST BEFORE ASKING QUESTIONS/MESSAGING ME! THANK YOU)

hey yall, im opening commissions to help raise money for the black lives matter movement and protests!

how to commission: message me a picture of the receipt of your $5* or greater donation to any of the blm organizations/gofundmes listed OR in my reblogs (or not listed, just let me know which organization you donated to), and you'll get a sketch commission from me of whatever you want!

if your donation is $15 or more, I can add more details and make the commission in a painty style if you wish! the art style will be similar to most of my bnha stuff on my blog :-] some ideas of what to commission are (obviously) anime characters and animals/pet portraits. I'll draw most anything except for nsfw!

ALSO- for me to know that your donation is for a commission, add 11 cents on the end of whatever sum you're donating- that way I can ensure donations aren't being reused for multiple pieces of art and such. ty!

*if you're broke like me and only have a couple bucks to spare, let me know and we can work something out! a small donation is better than no donation :>

places you can donate to (i apologize for not having links but it's easy to search these up! there are also plenty of links in my reblogs!!):

-Color of Change

-ACLU

-Unicorn Riot

-Fundraiser for Breonna Taylor (gofundme)

-Small Businesses on Lake Street (gofundme)

-Black Women's Blueprint

-The Loveland Foundation

-Femme Empowerment Project

-My Block, My Hood, My City

-Atlanta Solidarity Fund

-NYC Black Mutual Aid

-Emergency Release Fund

-Covid-19 Mutual Aid Network- Los Angeles

KEEP IN MIND!! places that are already very supported and want funds to be directed ELSEWHERE include: the northstar health collective, black visions collective, reclaim the block, NAACP, the NYC bail fund, the philly bail fund, and the brooklyn community bail fund.

The Minnesota Freedom Fund is NO LONGER ACCEPTING DONATIONS.

do NOT donate to shaun king (I'm sorry I can't link the info to why but you can find it by googling/somewhere in my reblogs :"D) THANK U!

note: just for clarification, this is NOT a "if you donated, come get art" situation- more of a "pay me for art, but donate instead". my intent is to encourage people to donate or donate more. I'm sorry I don't have the time and energy to draw something for everyone who has donated already :"D thanks for your understanding and cooperation!

if you don't have the means to commission by donating, don't worry! there are lots of ways to help out, including streaming FREE "watch to donate" videos (I've reblogged some info abt those, check em out) that raise money thru ad revenue, signing petitions, and calling and emailing your representatives+local officials to call for change in the system!!! changes are already happening thru the protests and everyone's collective efforts- it's working! keep fighting for justice and stay safe everyone <3

#blm #blacklivesmatter #black lives matter #art #commission info #blm commissions #pls reblog! #bnha #todoroki shouto #bakugou katsuki #izuku midoriya

[c-is-for-circinate]

I’m not good at violence.

I think I used to be.  I was raised to it; I’m a white woman, and I grew up with privilege and with trauma, and none of that makes me special but it does mean I have the capacity to cause harm to others.  I know violence.  I hate seeing it in other people.  I hate seeing it in myself.

And here is a fact: the violence coming from protestors and rioters right now is justified.  The violence happening right now has every chance of being effective.  This post is a really excellent breakdown of riots, both as an effective means of driving social change, and a valid and justified expression of the well-deserved rage of a community.  I support the anger and the violence that is happening right now.

But.  But I freeze, when I’m around it, when I see it directed at people around me, when I’m asked to be a part of it.  I’ve spent so many years trying to stop myself from lashing out that now it cuts the legs right out from under me.  Whether it’s the physical violence of a riot just down the block from my living room windows, or the verbal violence of one friend eviscerating another for daring to be worried about a brother and friends on the police force--I can’t do it.  I can’t help wanting to defuse it.  I can’t help freezing and wanting to run away.

Is it privilege, that I get to say no to violence in this case?  Yes, yes it absolutely is.  Everybody should have that privilege.  That’s the point of all of this in the first place.  And if I used that privilege to just sit down and hide from all of this, and do nothing, and say nothing, except “I’m not good at violence so I’m excused,” well--would that be as evil as all the sins that started this in the first place?  Of course not.  But it wouldn’t be good, either.

So the question is, what can I do?  If now is the time when decent people are called upon to act, what action can I take that will actually help?  Is there a place, in this moment of history that seems to be crying out for a violent response, to be non-violent and still help?

Of course there is.  There always is.  Not because nonviolence is the True, Correct Way (fuck that, sometimes violence is called for, and this is one of them), but because it is always most effective to go after a goal with a multi-pronged approach.  It’s not about how I turn myself into a sword.  It’s about figuring out what other skills I can bring to bear, and using them effectively.

For me, my number one skill, the thing I make my bread and butter on, the thing I can do right now is: I can talk.

I can talk to the people in charge.  I have government representatives on so many levels. Yes, I can write to my senator, to my House of Representatives congressperson, to my state governor--but I can also think small.  My city runs on its city council.  The representative for my district has an office half a mile from my apartment; I go in there a couple of times a year for parking passes.  He’s not a scary, distant stranger.  I can email him.  And once I’ve done that, if I move on to emailing the mayor, the county commissioner, the state legislature, and up and up and on up the chain, that’s great--but starting local is easy, and in so many ways, it’s the most important thing to do right now.  The woman in Washington is trying to save the whole country, but the man in the community garden down the block has the power to do something about rubber bullets and tear gas right now.

I can talk to the people who disagree.  I can talk to them with patience, and kindness, and understanding that other activists may not have the time or emotional wherewithal for.  My mom wants everybody to be safe and happy, and only sees riots as violence and danger.  My friend loves her brother, the cop, and refuses to go along with any absolutist anti-police rhetoric.  They are both (as all humans are) wrong about some things and right about others.  They’re wrong about whether these riots should happen, but they’re not wrong to be scared.  Ultimately, maybe they don’t matter--maybe they deserve to be denounced and shouted at, maybe they deserve violence--but I love them, and I’d rather have them for allies than enemies.  I can embrace patience.  I can validate their fears and the truths they know, and share with them the truths that I know: that the world is very scary right now, and that’s why demanding reform is so important.  That police officers aren’t fundamentally evil, they’re human, but humans can cause harm even by inaction, even by good intentions.  That riots and absolutism are violence.  That sometimes, violence should happen.

I can talk to the people who don’t know what’s going on.  I am a teacher.  Even now, in the middle of a quarantine, teaching composition and trigonometry over Zoom in one-on-one tutoring sessions with kids still wearing pyjamas, I’m a teacher.  And my students are young, and confused, and scared, because they don’t know what’s right or wrong but they know that the world is angry.  I can listen to them.  I can be calm, and gentle, and protect them from my own cynicism, because loading young children down with the whole weight of the world is violence, and it most hurts those who can’t fight back.  I can help them work through the things they don’t understand.

I can talk to other people in my same position.  I can write this post.  I can talk to my students and my mom and my other friends, who want to support black communities and protesters and the course of social justice.  I can remind people who hate and fear violence that some violence is necessary, and I can help them find ways to contribute if they are as bad at it as I am.  I can help steer them away from lashing out in fear and confusion at the very protesters and victims and social justice warriors they want to help.  I can patch them up and help them get working again, when the broadsword of “ZERO TOLERANCE” and “IF YOU’RE NOT WITH US, YOU’RE AGAINST US” accidentally catches them on the backswing.

Of course, not everybody’s a talker!  And talking, like violence, isn’t ever the one-size-fits-all solution to an entire problem either.  You may have to think through your own skills to find a good way to contribute, but there are a few additional things that I know I can also do, and they may be a good start:

I can provide literal, physical support.  Maybe this means donating money to bail funds and other BLM-related nonprofits.  Maybe this means getting masks and bottled water for protesters well before the protest starts.  Maybe it means setting up a space in the courtyard of my apartment building where protesters can seek safety if things go very bad two blocks away again.  Monetary donations are the most visible and obvious way we’ve been asked to contribute nonviolently, and they are important.  We can all watch an ad-supported donating YouTube stream.

I can help the people caught in the crossfire.  Whatever reason or justification these riots have, the accompanying looting is actively harming small black- and minority-owned businesses, including those in my neighborhood.  I can help sweep glass and board up windows.  I can bring coffee and doughnuts and ask my neighbors what they need to get back up on their feet.  I can help clean up the aftermath.

I can remember.  This is, as they always say, a marathon, not a sprint.  In a few weeks or a few months the active, visible, national news parts of this will be over, but the problems won’t be.  Some things may get fixed.  Some things won’t.  What do I do then?  Do I keep writing letters to my local representatives?  Do I go to community association meetings and community policing events, and ask awkward questions, and request accountability and reform in polite, measured, nonviolent, implacable, unrelenting ways when the time for outrage and shouting is over?  Do I look for the quiet, boring, nonviolent, tedious things that need to be done to help solve the problems of economic disparity that brought this about in the long run?  Now might not be the time for quiet, polite, and tedious--but it will come again.  There is always quiet, tedious work to be done, when the news crews and protesters go away.  I can make sure not to forget that.

#there are a lot of reasons this is not a social justice blog #but this is something I can do

[the-lincyclopedia]

I’ll write you a fic if you donate to a bail fund (see details)

A lot of awful stuff has been happening lately--some of it, like the pandemic, new; a lot of it, including the violence against Black Americans, not new at all. One of the ways the pandemic is colliding with police violence is that protestors who are arrested wind up jailed in close quarters with other people, putting them at higher risk of catching the coronavirus. The way to get out of jail while awaiting trial is to post cash bail, which, of course, means that rich people or people with rich friends can get out of jail before their trials, while just about everyone else can’t. 

Bail funds, including the Minnesota Freedom Fund, help people post bail so they can get out of jail while waiting for their trials. The Community Justice Exchange has a directory of bail funds, sorted by state. 

Here’s what I’m proposing: I will write fics of at least 1,000 words for the first five people who donate at least $10 to a bail fund and email proof their donation to [email protected] (the email address I use for fandom things). I’m willing to write for the Check Please, Carry On, and Harry Potter fandoms. 

I’ll reblog this post as fics are claimed to let you know how many fics are left, and I’ll shut this down on June 30, 2020 regardless of whether fics get claimed, just so I don’t have this hanging over my head forever. If you want me to write you a fic for this and you aren’t sure if all the fics have been claimed yet, check the notes of this post or message/email me. 

More details below the cut. 

What fandoms are you willing to write for? 

I’m willing to write for Check Please, Carry On, or Harry Potter. 

What ratings are you willing to write?

I am only willing to write fics rated G or T.

What pairings are you especially excited about writing? 

For Check Please: Zimbits, Holsom, NurseyDex, or Shardo. For Carry On: Snowbaz. For Harry Potter: Jily or Romione. NOTE: I am also happy to write gen, friendship-oriented, or character study fics!

What tropes are you especially excited about writing? 

Getting together, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, insecurity, autistic!Jack Zimmermann.

What are you NOT willing to write?

Sex, polyamory, workplace romance, romance between a minor and an adult, dubcon, noncon, vomiting, Severus Snape as a romantic partner, Draco Malfoy as a romantic partner. Also, while I trust myself to handle topics relating to autism and queerness sensitively, I don’t think I’m qualified to write well about other sensitive topics, particularly race, ethnicity, religion, etc. If you have a headcanon about Nursey’s experience as a person of color at Samwell, or about Jack being Jewish and experiencing anti-Semitism, I’m not the right author for those prompts. 

How long will the fic be? 

I commit to writing at least 1,000 words per fic. I am not expecting any of the fics to be longer than 2,000 words. These will be more than a couple paragraphs, but they’ll definitely still be short. Please keep this in mind when formulating your prompt.

Can I get a longer fic by donating more money?

Sorry, but no. Again, please keep this in mind when formulating your prompt.

When will the fics be finished? 

I commit to finishing these fics by July 31, 2020. 

Where will the fics be posted? 

I will post the fics on AO3 and dedicate them to you if you have an AO3 account. If you don’t mind, I’ll cross-post the fics to FFN and post a teaser on Tumblr as well. 

Can I see samples of your work? 

All the fanfiction I’ve written in the past two years, and quite a bit from before that, is on AO3 here. If that link doesn’t work, search HermioneGirl96 on AO3. 

How can I contact you?

You should be able to Tumblr-message me or come to my ask box, but email is probably more reliable. You can email me at [email protected].

Where should I donate, again? 

Any bail fund on this list from the Community Justice Exchange is fair game. 

Can I black out personal information on the screenshot of my receipt? 

Yes, but I need to be able to see the amount you donated so I can verify that it’s at least $10. 

#mine #fanfiction

[keshetchai]

personal posting / alcoholic parent mention / medical 

first mentioning that im furious at my primary care for not referring me for a covid vaccine because she can’t...prove i have asthma, because ??? “just because i prescribed an inhaler doesn’t mean you have asthma.” like, ...okay, whatever. thanks.

unfortunately, i do not feel excited for pesach. I actually love pesach. but I love it in person, face to face, at a table of people. i can’t have that. that’s probably for the best because as much as I love pesach, I don’t love a holiday with four cups of wine as a central ritual when my low-contact/estranged father has been an alcoholic for 10+ years now and his poison of choice is red wine. he’s hit the stage where he is dying slowly, but that could last years or months. I don’t know. 

late december he was formally diagnosed with covid-19, when we thought he’d already caught it early on. then after recovering he had a stomach surgery scheduled for a separate issue, and basically the hospital had to stop operating because he was bleeding too heavily as a result of his enlarged liver. they stopped with only a small percent of surgery done, and stabilized him a bit, and then he got transported back to the US. because he basically hit his healthcare limit from private insurance in another country. now he’s on VA stuff. i think they recently discharged him, or will discharge him in san diego. 

his kidneys and liver are failing, in addition to major intestinal issues, his gallbladder needing removing, etc. i mean, he will absolutely die of liver failure if he drinks any more. but relapse is almost an inevitability after forced sobriety while hospitalized. 

his siblings - my aunts and uncle - all finally realize truly how bad it is. my aunt karen is close enough we were able to talk (masked, in person) about why I am extremely low contact with my dad, why I was frustrated my aunts and uncle kept asking me if I’d heard from my dad...etc. because like, I don’t. we talk on birthdays, father’s day, maybe new years, maybe once about my brother. 

i showed her my texts history where it was literally just 

2020 - my birthday, his birthday, question about my brother. 

before that was 2019, i think an exchange about getting me off of his cell phone plan formally. 

i gave her all the sordid details, about his drinking when he had custody visitation with me and my brother, about telling my high school teachers he was not my custodial parent/an alcoholic/unreliable, how there were a serious of fracture points in our relationship that broke it bit by bit until finally in college he spent father’s day weekend trying to convince me to volunteer to kick myself out of his apartment where i’d been sleeping on an air mattress and working as a temp because his second wife decided to rant to him how much she hated me and wanted me gone. how i sent him an email calculating his alcohol expenses weekly and told him he owed me money. a million other little things... and she listened and understood and sympathized and was mad on my behalf. 

but i sent an email informing her siblings also of some of this stuff, about my feeling that my dad needs rehab and that we can’t force him to go, and neither of them responded. and i know it got sent, because karen replied to my email too. 

the other two have been silent. what hurts is that of course, my other aunt A did text me the other day, asking if i could join a family zoom meeting saturday night, with my dad, to check in on him. no response to anything I said about how I feel about my parent who is an addict and slowly dying, lmao. just join a zoom meeting. I had to pry to ask if it was like, going to be an ~intervention~ or something. 

i was so relieved to be able to say “sorry, not this weekend. those are the first two nights of passover, I won’t be available.” i told her i could be there some other evening, but not to hold up everything on my account, even if my dad did ask if i would attend. i pity him, i do. but i can’t help but resent everything done, and what i learned when karen told me he inherited about $40,000 in early 2018? I think? and he’s spent it all. he was working and he still spent it. i know when my mom sued for back owed child support, he settled. I don’t think he paid up in full - which that inheritance might’ve done. 

when my grandmother had lost an eye due to cancer, she also funded his trip to the ukraine to meet some woman. she needed that money to get a glass eye. but delayed it for her son. he ran out of money on this pointless trip and his siblings bailed him out. they’ve been paying for his plane tickets. he continued to ask his dying mother for money, until karen intervened a little, and even then... 

he ran through forty thousand dollars after my grandma died. and didn’t think about anyone but himself with that money. my aunt basically - i mean in nicer words - explained i won’t inherit anything most likely, he probably doesn’t have assets anymore, and i was like, well, yeah. 

...this sounds cold and awful but i have assumed for awhile my dad will die young and also that his siblings will have to pay for the funeral. even if i felt obligated to do something as his first born child -- I don’t have the money for funeral expenses, mostly because of him! 

anyways i’m disappointed my family didn’t acknowledge anything i said, i’m sad pesach is going to be isolated again, i’ve been stressed about dealing with expectations about how i should feel about my dad dying, with digging up old resentment and hurt and having to think about him more than i ever normally do... 

i finally submitted an intake form for the local jewish fam services therapy offerings and they were like “we don’t have openings now, we may in spring” today and i emailed back like “i’m fine waiting, it’s already spring....” time isn’t real anyways!

maybe i should look for other therapists right now but i wanted to go with jfs first lol. just. sigh. 

[haltandcatchfiretothemax]

FEMSLASH FEBRUARY 2021 #10: In which Cameron tries to spoil Donna

[CN: food and eating mentions]

.

.

In January of 2021, Donna realized and voiced the obvious while watching television one day: “We’re really not gonna be able to have people over for Galentine’s Day, are we?”

Cameron didn’t always entirely enjoy the spectacle or debauchery that sometimes happened at Donna’s Galentine parties, but she was still sorry that it wouldn’t be safe or advisable to celebrate that year. Gently, she replied, “Not considering a Galentine’s video conference, then?”

“I guess I could do that,” Donna sighed heavily. “It won’t be the same though. And we won’t be able to give out gift bags!” she wailed. 

Donna looked forward to organizing a party for February 13 every year, but her favorite part of Galentine’s Day had always been making and giving gift bags filled with expensive indulgences to their friends, and Cameron had never really understood it. It was, in fact, one of the very few things that Cameron didn’t love about Donna, and she wasn’t sure why it bothered her. Donna certainly had the money for it, and what better way to spend your money than on giving nice things to your friends? But no matter how hard she tried, Cameron just couldn’t shake her discomfort with the gross materialism of it. 

Still, Cameron tried to be encouraging. “You could send care packages, couldn’t you?”

Donna thought about it for a moment, and then said, “Putting all that strain on the postal service just so I can send my friends expensive scented candles and handmade journals?” Her face collapsed into a look of utter despair at the very thought. “That just feels so ‘let them eat cake,’ doesn’t it?”

“You are not a naive and undereducated young queen who was bamboozled into inheriting a bankrupt and rapidly disintegrating monarchy,” Cameron said, patting Donna’s hand comfortingly. “And you’re also not a nameless, possibly non-existent princess in a non-fiction work by Jean-Jacques Rousseau, or Maria-Teresa, the Spanish princess who might have actually said that.”

With a bemused smile, Donna said, “I love that you just know that.”

“Yeah, well.” Cameron said, putting an arm around Donna. “Just because I have a reputation for being a princess-hater doesn’t mean that I actually hate them. I mean, look at who I married.”

“Cameron Howe, Defender of Princesses,” Donna said. “That has a ring to it? I’ll have to make you head of my queensguard when I inherit the throne.”

Cameron arched an eye brow at Donna. “Are you trying to tell me that you wanna play exiled gay princess and devoted butch lady knight?”

Finally and fully distracted from her galentine’s day disappointment, Donna laughed. And then she kissed Cameron.

***

Cameron got out of bed late that night and went downstairs for two hours. When she returned, Donna woke up briefly, and she said, “Hey? You okay? Where’d you go?”

“Never you mind,” Cameron said, getting under the covers. “I was making you some brioche to throw at the peasants.” 

“What?” Donna cried. Then she realized that Cameron was kidding and giggled. “Okay, okay. Keep your secrets.”

Curling up next to Donna, Cameron kissed her shoulder. Resting her head on her pillow, she said, “Good night, sleep tight, your royal highness.”

“Likewise, good Sir Cameron!” Donna said, falling back to sleep.

***

In early February, while Cameron worked on the requested Valentine’s Day decorations, Donna tried to come up with an alternate Galentine plan. She filled out cards and sent them early, and then she sent messages to everyone on her guest list to see if they might have time for individual video chats. She wound up scheduling early morning coffee with Tanya, an afternoon check in with Dr. Katie Herman, and cocktail hour with Risa and her partner, and also Cameron. She spent the next few days trying to come up with ‘something else.’ When she finally resorted to mopily looking through all of their saved and archived photos of past Galentine’s Day parties, she figured it out. 

Cameron woke up on the 13th to an email from Donna. While Donna fried eggs and bacon and poured mixed berry waffles, Cameron, sitting at the kitchen island, looked at her phone, and asked, “Did you email me this morning?”

“You, and many of our friends!” Donna chirped. 

Flatly, Cameron said, “If it’s a severed head, I’m gonna be very upset.” She clicked on the email with her thumb to read it.

The email said, “To my favorite galentine: while we can’t celebrate with our friends this year, we can give to others, and we also absolutely need to give as much as we can spare during this on-going crisis. So while I do love giving ridiculously priced candles and pens to our friends, this year, my gift is a donation in your name to Girls Who Code.” The closing of the email said, “With any luck we’ll be able to celebrate with our friends next year, but in the meantime: Happy Galentine’s Day! -xo DC.” 

And then at the very end of the email, there was an attachment, a photo of Cameron and Donna in the kitchen, preparing snacks, that Haley had taken at their first Galentine’s Day gathering. 

Cameron stared at the photo for a minute, and then asked, “Wait, did you make donations for everyone?”

“Yes, yes I did,” Donna said, as she opened the waffle iron. “To different places though, food banks, abortion funds and domestic violence support groups, bail funds, and Black and indigenous justice orgs.”

Overwhelmed by a rush of affection toward her wife, Cameron said, “I think that that was a great way to celebrate. Nice work, Boss.”

Donna’s blushed as she made their plates. “Thank you! I just hope it helps, somehow. Sometimes it all feels futile, you know? It feels less futile when you bring all your friend into it and then email them about it, though!”

They ate breakfast, and then before Donna could say anything else, Cameron said, “Okay, so, I’ve done something. Something that was meant to help cheer you up.”

“Oh?” Donna asked, intrigued.

Cameron got up from her seat, went around the island, and took Donna’s hand. Donna got up, and Cameron escorted her their living room couch, where Cameron had placed two large red gift bags. “You always said that everyone opening their gift bags together was your favorite part of all of this, so. I made two bags for us. It’s not the same as all of our friends opening our git bags together, but, it’s something?”

“Oh, Cam,” Donna frowned. “I love the pseudo but not-quite Gift of the Magi vibes, but, you didn’t have to do this.”

“I know I didn’t, but everything sucks so I figured why not,” Cameron said, picking up her bag and sitting down on the couch. Come on! Sit!” She picked up Donna’s bag, and handed it to her. 

Donna accepted the bag from her. She looked at it, and then said, “If this is a severed head, I’m also gonna be very upset.” 

“It’s not, it’s a gun rack,” Cameron deadpanned. “For the last time, sit, already!”

Donna sat down next to her, and with the bag in her lap, she started to pull out the pink tissue paper Cameron had crumped and stuffed into the top. “Okay, so what have we got first?” Donna reached into the bag, and pulled out a small plastic bottle. “Scented moisturizing hand sanitizer!”

“The white vetiver scent,” Cameron said, holding hers up. “I didn’t like it at first, but you were right, as always. Now it’s my favorite.”

“A luxurious yet practical item, and a fine choice!” Donna enthused. “What’s next?” She reached into the bag, and pulled out a large tube of aloe-infused hand cream. “Ah, an old standby, and another Emerson-Howe household staple.”

Looking at the tube that been in her bag, Cameron said, “I wanted to go with something fancy, but this stuff just works so well! I feel like we can never have enough of it.”

Reaching into her bag again, Donna felt some plastic wrap, and then pulled out a black and blush pink leopard print 100% silk face mask, packaged with its own silk case.

Cameron looked at her own navy blue and star patterned mask, and admitted, “This is the biggest splurge in here. But as long as we’re double masking….”

With a small sigh, Donna reached into her bag again, and found a set of silk scrunchies, with the same leopard print as her mask. “Oh, I was thinking about trying these! Thank you for remembering me talking about it.”

“What kind of partner would I be if I didn’t buy you the one thing you single thing you put off buying for yourself?” Cameron said. “You can try mine, too, I don’t think I’ll end up using them.”

Donna reached into the bottom of the bag, and found the next to last item, a small cardboard box. When she looked at it, it was a fresh tube of her favorite nude pink lipstick, which she’d been wearing since the late ‘90s, and had been meaning to repurchase. 

“I just got a drugstore lip balm for myself, nude rose is your color, not mine,” Cameron said.

Donna snorted. “That was probably the best way to handle it. Thank you for knowing my color.”

“That’s the end of what’s in my bag!” Cameron said. “There’s one more thing in your bag though, because we only need one.”

Donna found the last item. A copy of the Criterion release of Portrait of a Lady on Fire, Donna held it up and said, “Oh…as I recall, you liked this movie better than I did!”

“Yes,” Cameron agreed, “but, you said that you liked it, and that you wanted to try watching it again at home. Which I thought we could maybe do sometime this month.”

Donna smiled at her. “Honestly, I would love that. It’s a date.”

Donna was about to lean in and kiss Cameron to properly thank her, when her phone, forgotten in the kitchen, rang.

“Ack, that’s probably Tanya!” Donna jumped up. “We’re supposed to ‘have coffee’ together!” 

“Go answer, then!” Cameron said. “I can clean this up and I can take care of the dishes, too.” 

“This was perfect and I love you!” Donna hurriedly kissed her, before rushing off. Already half way to the kitchen, she called out, “Happy Galentine’s Day!” behind her.

“Hard same, have fun, tell Tanya I say hi!” Cameron shouted after her.

#sorry but also not sorry for the gratuitous wayne's world reference! #happy galentine's day bbys #please try to enjoy it and celebrate your friends and loved ones as best as you can despite everything! #femslash february #femslash february 2021 #fan fiction #cameron howe #donna clark #donna emerson

[thecandlesticksfromlesmis]

Bishop Myriel Fundraiser

The cast of @allthatsleftofus is offering a full cast, fully sound designed and originally scored podfic! The fic must be yours or you must have proof of permission from the original author of the fic you’d like to have recorded! 

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#bishopmyrielfundraiser #fanfic #podfic #donation #Les Miserables

[connecticutbailbonds6]

How to Choose a New Haven Bail Bonds Agent

With the help of a Connecticut Bail Bonds Group, your loved ones can get out of jail. However, if you are not well-experienced in these matters, it is best to employ professionals to do these things for you. There are many advantages associated with hiring  bail bonds New Haven professionals. These include:

You should always ensure that your loved one is treated with respect and courtesy by the bail bondsman. This will help you avoid being taken to court or having excessive charges filed against you. You must be cautious when making choices regarding the type of bail services that you require. For instance, you could opt for state funds, court-approved cash payments, or the use of non-government funds.- Professionalism.

Assistance. When choosing services, you have to make sure that they provide you with assistance at every step of the way. You must get help with the paperwork and financial information and constant communication between the defendant and the lawyer. Make sure that the bond agent keeps you informed of your loved one's situation at all times. This will help you keep track of how much money is going where and help you stay abreast of any changes in the case.

Knowledge. This is another big plus when getting help from a bondsman. Find out how much experience the agent has. Find out how much they have in the field. It is crucial to choose an agent who knows what they are doing and has experience in the bondsman industry. Make sure that you select an agent who understands the bond system thoroughly and has years of experience.

Guarantee. A bond agent has to be able to back up their words. Before hiring a bondsman, make sure that they can provide you a Risk-Free Cash Advance. You should know that no legitimate bondsman will ever refuse to guarantee you a cash advance if you need it. So, find out if they follow this policy. You want someone who will show up and help you get your bail bond paid.

Creditability. Ask a bondsman for references. If they don’t provide them to you, then you should probably go somewhere else. Good bondsmen have a track record of helping people out, and this should be a good reason to choose one over another.

Knowledge. When choosing a bondsman, try to find one knowledgeable about the criminal justice system and how it works. Make sure they understand the whole process and will help you find the best options for your particular case. A good bondsman will be able to explain all of your options and help you come to a decision.

 Experience. Even though you may have only been in the industry for a few years, you need to know that experience counts for something. Choosing someone who has plenty of experience will help ensure that you get the best service possible. And, of course, the experience will help ensure that the bondsman has the expertise needed to help you bail out of jail fast.

Contact us:

Connecticut Bail Bonds Group

Address: 171 Orange St. 3rd Floor, New Haven, CT 06510

Phone: [phone]

Email: [email protected]

[yetanotherreader]

Useful—4

Genre: College AU

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Y/N Y/L/N, slight Dean x Lisa

Summary: The school’s most popular boy wants to be friends with Y/N, out of the blue. It definitely doesn’t have anything to do with her hot best friend, though.

Word Count (For the chapter): 2,627

Warnings (For the chapter): Language, self deprecative thoughts.

[For some reason, some of the tags aren’t working. I’m sorry about that.]

[[ Also I’m sorry for the no Read More thingy because it doesn’t happen on the phone app :-(]]

Useful Masterlist

Chapter 4

Chapter 3

Time flew by faster and in no time, it was the last week of the semester. Winter breaks were going to begin and you didn't know what to do with your life during the vacation. Lisa was going to be spending it with her family, Dean was going on a road trip with his friends and you had no plans whatsoever. You had no funds to go visit your family, overseas. You were saving for an apartment, and your parents understood. You were, in fact, surprised that they did without any clashes but again, maybe, living away from each other did mend your relationship with your family better. You missed them and, hopefully, they missed you too.

Right now, though, you were trying to figure out how you were going to survive the holidays, browsing the library for some books you could use for your time alone. Older times, you would have enjoyed it. Would get bored, might go into overthinking drives, beat yourself up for things of the past, but still somehow enjoyed the undisturbed two weeks. Now, it was different. Everything was. You were not used to being alone all the time anymore, there was a certain green eyed idiot who made sure to be around you as much as he could. The idiot you've started to dangerously feel for. He introduced you to Cas and Jo, and they were amazing people. Lisa had started spending time with you, too. It was funny. A few months ago, you had literally no one to talk to and now, you barely got to be alone.

"There you are! I've been looking for you."

"Well, I'm honored. Hey, Lis."

"Gotta say your sense of humor has worsened more," she said with a laugh, "Hey. So mom is going on a holiday with her fiancé for the new year. So had to cut the trip short. They invited me but I bailed out"

"I'm sorry," You knew Lisa and her mom's new boyfriend didn't get along all that well. The previous guy her mom was with, though, treated Lisa like her own, and she missed him. For some reason, they broke up and that was why Lisa  moved here for college from Michigan. Her mother's new fiance was a nice man, according to Lisa, but she just couldn't give him that place in her heart.

"Yeah. So, yeah, I'll be here a week earlier."

"That's cool. We can catch up on some movies then."

"And bars and parties and hot boys at the beach."

"Oh, Lord." You laughed, and she soon joined you.

"Hey Y/-" You heard Dean stop, abruptly before continuing, "H-Hey."

You looked up at him to see him looking at Lisa, only to realize it was her he actually greeted, "Um..hey, Dean."

He practically tore his gaze away from her to look at you, "Oh, hi, Y/N. You didn't tell me your friend was going to be here with you."

"Uh, you didn't tell me you were going to be coming here, Dean." You laughed awkwardly trying to cut the tension in the air.

"Oh, yeah, actually I was looking for you. Well, I was wondering if you-"

"Y/N, won't you introduce me to your friend?" Lisa chimed in, practically eye-fucking your best friend—and you hated to notice, it was coming right back at her.

"So, you don't know who I am, huh?" Dean smirked, flirting. You couldn't help but roll your eyes.

It was like you weren't even there while they continued to make filthy comments and it was disgusting, you audibly groaned making your way out of the library, "God, ew."

For the rest of the day, you were supposed to be busy. You had assignments to submit before the vacations started, but it seemed like you dropped your concentration somewhere on the road. You couldn't stop wondering what Lisa and Dean were doing right then. Did they kiss? Or were they planning somethi-

You shook your head, shaking away the thoughts. They were your friends, you should be happy for them if it came to something like that. What you felt for Dean was a tiny, little crush which would fade in no time. You weren't going to make things between you two awkward by acting on it. This friendship was important to you, after a long, long while you were willing to put your trust in someone. You didn't even remember the last time you ever talked to someone like you talked to Dean. He was starting to become the closest friend you'd ever had, so yeah, you were going to be happy for him no matter who he dated.

The only thing was...you weren't.

You typed furiously on the computer, trying to ignore the insecurities that were creeping inside you little by little. Dean is going to leave you too. No one will stay. Everyone leaves. Your fingers danced across the keyboard smoothly yet faster than before as you hurried to get the work done so that you could get the hell out of the premises and take a nap. Because you deserve it. You're not worth any love. You're a disgra- You typed the last words and emailed yourself the document, not bringing anything that was going on in your mind show on your face.

"Y/N!" You stopped at the familiar voice, turning around as Lisa made her way towards you, "Guess what?"

"What?" You asked, not surprised by her happy attitude. She was always so happy, it made you wonder what was wrong with you that you couldn't be.

"You never told me you were friends with that hot snack!"

"Um.. actually. I did." You said, rolling your eyes. Obviously she wasn't paying attention.

"No…" you gave her a long look, "you did?"

Exhaling heavily, you made your way to your room, "Lis, I've had a busy day. I'm really really exhausted. Can we gush over how hot Dean is later when I've had some shut eye?"

"No, I didn't stop you to tell how hot Dean is. I mean, yes he is but I wanted to tell you he invited me to the road trip he's going on with his friends." Your eyes shot up to her face, searching for any signs of it being a joke. It wasn't. Dean, actually, did ask her. They met...like...just now?

Lisa must have gotten an idea of your discomfort 'cause her eyes saucered in realization, "oh my god...I'm so sorry, Y/N! I completely forgot about you and the plans we made. I can drop going, I'm so sorry."

"No..it's..it's okay. Really. Go enjoy your holiday. I was, anyway, going to spend my time alone before we made those plans."

She looked at you, guilty, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah.." You smiled in understanding.

"I can always ask Dean to let you tag along."

You chuckled at the irony. You were his best friend, you didn't need anyone else to ask him anything for you. And you even felt a little insulted by the statement. You could do without this favour. You could definitely do without anyone 'letting you' tag along, "Braedon, really, go. I'll be fine on my own."

She went away without another word. The pit in your stomach only seemed to grow as you did your best to drag it aside. You, somehow, managed to stop the slumping of your shoulders as you walked into your room. You changed out of your jeans into your pajamas, ready to call it a day. You made yourself a peanut butter sandwich and was done with all the chores that you settled down on the bed. Switching off the lights, you pulled the warm blanket over your head. It was then that all the thoughts you'd been pushing aside started making appearances.

Your friend 'completely forgot' about you and the plans, your best friend didn't even bother remembering that he forgot about you. It was like you didn't even exist. You knew it was stupid, in fact it was really childish to think like this. Them people have gotten their own lives which DID NOT have to revolve around you. And pretty honestly, you knew no life revolved around you, not even your own. No one would give two shits if you suddenly disappeared, including you. Still, you weren't supposed to feel this way. You weren't supposed to be so much affected because of something like this. Being left out was not something that was happening for the first time to you. But this time, it hurt a little. The thought of you getting replaced bothered a little when it shouldn't. It wasn't a crime or anything. What did you ever do to make a lasting impact in someone's life anyway so that they'd want to keep you forever?

You woke up to constant pounding on your door. Groaning, you got up to open the door.

"I was about to knock the door down, sleepyhead." Dean ruffled your hair playfully as you slapped his hand away annoyed.

"I was sleeping, asshole."

"Shocker."

You looked at him, bored, for a while before widening your eyes and pulling him inside and locking the door behind, "What the hell are you doing here? If the warden saw you, she'd rip me two."

"For a second I thought you were going to kiss me," he snickered sheepishly. "I called you to inform, you didn't pick up." He made his way inside the room, putting the box of pizza and a backpack on the couch. You scrunched up your nose at the action.

"Pizza? Why?"

"Why are you surprised?"

"It was Tuesday. Did I sleep for three fuckin' days straight?!" You said, flabbergasted for a moment until you saw Dean making the most annoyed face ever.

"Y/L/N. It is still Tuesday. Wednesday, actually. And our Friday night outs are at my place, not here where your warden is ready to eat me alive."

"Your point?"

He sighed, "We didn't spend any time together today, Y/N. I saw you earlier, you didn't look well."

You frowned before the memories made their way back, "oh…

"Well that's exactly why I was trying to sleep, Winchester." You scolded, trying to not sound too cold.

"What is it?"

"What?" You turned away from him, walking to your bed, Dean following suit.

"What's wrong? And don't give me there's-nothing-wrong-i'm-okay shit. Tell me." He sat himself beside you as you crawled under the blanket to the other end.

"There's nothing wrong, I'm okay." Dean rolled his eyes as you pulled the covers over your head.

"You know I hate it when you do what I tell you not to."

"Then don't tell me what to do." Your voice came out muffled, as you replied back sharply. He sighed.

When she walked out of the library, groaning as Lisa and him flirted, Dean had noticed. He thought it was just the playful best friend reaction seeing them two flirt with each other, so he let it pass. Later that day, he went to meet Y/N and saw her working on the computer. She would look normal to anyone around there, but Dean had secretly picked up on her habit of doing her work extra smooth when she's stressed. Her shoulders were tensed and eyes sharp. Yep. She was definitely bothered. What he was about to tell her would have to wait, first he needed to know what was bothering her. He decided to talk to her after his class, but by the time his class was over, Y/N was already out of the campus.

"I never got to tell you why I came to talk to you this morning."

"Oh, you came to talk to me? Didn't think I was so lucky." Was that what it was all about? Was she... jealous? But why would she be jealous? She was so darn confusing, it frustrated him sometimes.

"You need to talk to me, Y/N. What's going on?" He said, pulling her blanket to him before she pulled it back.

"Nothing is going on Dean, really. It's nothing. I'm just tired is all."

"And grumpy?"

"And grumpy."

"I need you to know no one is going to take your place, sweetheart." He felt her stiffen just a bit, not enough to be noticed but enough to be noticed by him.

"Stop thinking you're that important to me, Winchester. You're not." He flinched. He knew Y/N didn't mean that, it was just her defence mechanism with some extra sass but it still painfully tug his heart a little bit. She made a lot such comments, mostly playfully, with that serious face but playfully. Maybe it wasn't the comment but the fact that she was hurt that was bothering him? He wouldn't know. One thing he knew, though, was whatever was bothering her, he needed to make her smile. Maybe she noticed his sudden pause because she immediately spoke up, "Sorry. It came out harsher than I intended."

"S'okay. So you're not gonna tell me what's bothering you?"

"Nothing is bothering me Winchester."

"Whatever you say, Y/L/N." He gave up. It bothered him that she had still not opened up to him even when they'd been 'best friends' for so long. Every time he thought she would, she would close off and change the topic. She still was the mystery girl he met at the beginning of the college, a mystery he didn't know how to figure out "So, you coming?"

"Where?"

"The road trip?

"So Lisa did that after all."

"Lisa did what?"

"Nothing. And well, I've got some work so I can't come."

"Yeah I know what work you got. Come on, Y/N. Be easy on yourself sometimes. It's gonna be fun."

"But-"

"Great. So it's a 2 weeks long trip. Pack accordingly and now we have that pizza." He stood up before she could protest and got the pizza.

"How many times are you going to watch this show, Dean? Don't you get bored?" You said taking your third slice.

"As many times as I please, babe. It's Dr. Sexy M.D, it never gets boring." He said casually, thankfully missing the pink that dusted your cheeks at the nickname in the dark.

After a couple more episodes, you were starting to doze off, and so was Dean, "Alright, let's sleep. We have classes tomorrow.

"There's no morning class. Just one more epi." He said, clutching the remote in his hands, like a child, "please?"

"No." He pouted at your response, defeated.

"Okie." He said letting out a small yawn. Sleepy Dean was always adorable, "So it's settled that you're coming with us?"

She paused for a moment before shrugging slightly.

"I guess...yes," he smiled cheekily as she said that, "but, why did you want me there all of a sudden?"

"Because I want you there? It's gonna be fun. I've heard girls need their girl-friends on these tours for some 'girl-company' thing. I invited Lisa, so-"

He stopped abruptly as she stood up and made her way out of the room, "I'll go and throw these boxes, you change in here."

"- that you could get some company." He whispered mostly to himself. What the hell just happened? He shook his head, too sleepy to think about it right now and stripped out of his clothes into his pajamas.

Obviously. There it was. The reason he wanted you there, it's all here. It's because he didn't want Lisa to be alone around people she didn't know. You stood by the sink and chuckled to yourself, feeling a sting in the back of your eyes. Wow.

"Same old easily replaceable Y/N." You whispered.

-------

Chapter 5

A/N: alright. I know I know. I'm a terrible author who do not care about her readers but it's not that. I'm really, genuinely sorry. Life's been really rollercoastery and I've been dealing with stuffs lately. I promise I'll be better next time. And if you could take out a minute of your day and pray for me and a lot of people who need it, please, I'll be really grateful. They say prayers are powerful and I think I can do with them a bit.

Also, please don't do something wrong with yourself. You're worth every effort you make for a better life. Each minute of your life counts, just make sure you keep yourself and others as happy as you can. Be kind to you and others, I'm rooting for you. ❤️

And show some kindness to the animals too, they deserve it. ❤️

.

.

Tags for useful:

 @fandoms-fiend @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @itsjaybro16 @mml232 @blablatiti @stilltoomuchafangirl @bat-shark-repellant @bluebell-24 @shortwinchester @always-money-in-the-banana-stand @ima-be-a-mongoose @soullessbabee @infinityspacesuniverse @vicmc624 @roonyxx @fandoms-fiend @slythermyg

#supernatural #dean x reader #dean winchester #comforting dean reader #dean x reader cuddle #deanwinchester #dean x you #dean x reader fluff #dean x y/n #dean x oc #dean Winchester x reader #x reader #reader insert #y/n y/l/n #your story #imagine yourself #imagine your fictional other #imagine your f/o #spn #self loathing #spnfamliy #spn fanfiction #spnfandom #spn reader insert #spnedit #dean winchester fanfiction #au #college au #dean x reader college au

[uncloseted]

what are your thoughts on the black lives matter movement and recent events in Minneapolis?

Black lives matter. Period. Black lives are irreplaceable.  I am fully in support of the Black Lives Matter movement.  I’m furious and appalled and disgusted by police brutality, and I’m a white person.  I can’t even imagine how furious and appalled and disgusted the Black community must be right now. I don’t think it’s my place to insert myself into this conversation as a white person, but I also recognize that you all come here to hear my opinions on things, so I’m going to try and be brief, but I also want to make sure I say everything that needs to be brought up.

The US justice system is racist from top to bottom, from the people who are hired to be police officers to the way they’re trained to the way Black people are arrested, tried, and imprisoned, to what happens to imprisoned people once they’re released.  Our police system was formed from discriminatory practices designed to uphold racist and prejudiced ideas, and it continues to do that to this day.

Armed white protestors in Michigan assembled outside of the statehouse just a few weeks ago to demand that governments relax stay at home orders.  They screamed in the faces of police officers with no reaction from authorities. They were treated humanely; no arrests were made.  George Floyd was unarmed.  He was killed for allegedly trying to pass off a fake $20 bill.  Not even for passing off a fake $20 bill- for being suspected of using a counterfeit bill.  He was deemed threatening solely because of the way he looked.  He begged for his life and his pleas fell on deaf ears.  He was unarmed. He was not yelling in an officer’s face.  And yet our president tweeted that the Michigan protestors are “very good people…see them, talk to them, make a deal,” while the protestors demanding the end of police brutality are, “thugs” and “when the looting starts, the shooting starts.”

I know a lot of people object to the property damage the riots have caused and are asking why Black Lives Matter couldn’t have taken a more peaceful approach.  But they did. They peacefully protested and circulated information and called their representatives and demanded that disgraced cops are fired from their jobs and took knees during football games.  They were ridiculed for it. Their protests did not create the widespread change that is needed. So more people were killed at the hands of the police officers who were supposed to protect them.  

Martin Luther King Jr said that “a riot is the language of the unheard”. Before we lament the property damage to the likes of Autozone and Dollar Tree, let’s take a second to consider the incredible frustration and anger that would lead someone to do that.  Let’s consider how long these voices have gone unheard, how long their community has suffered.  The window of a Dollar Tree, a burned Autozone, those things are replaceable.  George Floyd’s life is not.  Eric Garner’s life is not. Ahmud Arbery, Beronna Taylor, Treyvon Martin, those lives are not replaceable.  By making this a conversation about property damage, we are admitting that we care more about capitalism than we do about human lives.  That’s disgusting.  The damage to those businesses is so, so small compared to the damage the Black community has faced at the hands of the police officers that are supposed to protect them and a justice system that monetarily profits from their imprisonment. 

Protestors have alleged that the cops initiated the violence. They have said that the protests were peaceful until the cops showed up in riot gear and started using water cannons, tear gas, and rubber bullets.  Dispatch has reportedly refused to provide medical attention to the protestors or allow ambulances to reach the protestors. The police are allegedly using non-lethal weapons in a lethal way, such as shooting rubber bullets at people’s heads. There have been reports that undercover police are pretending to be violent protestors, and that the white man who damaged the AutoZone that started the violence was an undercover cop pretending to be a protestor.  Other protestors tried to stop him, but were afraid for their safety because he had a hammer. (Edit to add: the cop in the video has been identified as Jacob Pedersen of the St. Paul Police Department.  You can report him by emailing the St. Paul Police Department - [email protected]). The police have allegedly jammed cell phone towers and cut live streams to prevent people from seeing what’s going on.  Reporters who are at the scene of the protests are being arrested without just cause.

The police are supposed to protect us, not to scare us.  They should be on the side of peace and justice and humanity.  They should not be the enemy, and yet, they constantly act as the enemy.  They should be educated in de-escalating situations instead of making those situations worse.  They shouldn’t be militarized the way that they are to begin with.

We cannot keep letting this happen, and by staying silent on this issue, we are.  Anti-apartheid and human rights activist Desmond Tutu said, “if you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor.” Nobel laureate and Holocaust survivor Elie Wiesel said, “we must take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.” Martin Luther King Jr said “the hottest place in Hell is reserved for those who remain neutral in times of great moral conflict…[an individual] who accepts evil without protesting against it is really cooperating with it”.  We cannot be neutral.  We must use our privilege and positions of power to fight for those whose voices are drowned out.  We must fight to make sure they’re heard and respected and taken seriously. 

Here is what you can do to help the situation:

Check the official page for #BlackLivesMatter for information on how to be a good ally and donate to your local Black Lives Matter chapter:

https://blacklivesmatter.com/

Follow and listen to Black Lives Matter founders Patrisse Khan-Cullors, Alicia Garza, and Opal Tometi.

Contact Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey here to demand justice. You can also call his office at 612-673-2100. Call DA Mike Freeman (612-348-5550) and tell him to arrest and charge the involved officers for the Murder of George Floyd. Derek Chauvin has already been arrested, but Thomas Lane, Tou Thao and J Alexander Kueng are still free.

SIGN THESE PETITIONS:

https://www.change.org/p/mayor-jacob-frey-justice-for-george-floyd

https://www.change.org/p/change-org-the-minneapolis-police-officers-to-be-charged-for-murder-after-killing-innocent-black-man

https://www.change.org/p/department-of-justice-mandatory-life-sentence-for-police-brutality

https://www.change.org/p/mayor-jacob-frey-justice-for-george-floyd-2

https://sign.moveon.org/petitions/justiceforfloyd-demand-the-police-officers-who-killed-george-floyd-are-fired

https://go.theactionpac.com/sign/justice-for-george-floyd?akid=s126290..-x2Vhw

https://go.theactionpac.com/sign/stand-with-breonna?akid=s170063..jxQ_ei

DONATE TO GEORGE FLOYD’S FAMILY:

https://www.gofundme.com/f/georgefloyd

FOR THE PEOPLE WHO LIVE INTERNATIONALLY:

If you cannot sign without American postal codes, here are a few you can use: 

90015 - Los Angeles, California 10001 - New York City, New York 75001 - Dallas, Texas

TEXT “FLOYD” TO 55156!

TEXT “JUSTICE” TO 668366!

DONATE TO THESE CAUSES:

Donate to the Minnesota Freedom Fund, who are reducing the burden of bail for protestors who have been arrested. 

https://minnesotafreedomfund.org/

Donate to Reclaim the Block, a grassroots organization based in Minneapolis.

https://secure.everyaction.com/zae4prEeKESHBy0MKXTIcQ2

Donate to Black Visions Collective, who focuses on transformative justice in the state of Minnesota.

https://secure.everyaction.com/4omQDAR0oUiUagTu0EG-Ig2

Donate to North Star Health Collective, a group of street medics, who are using the funds for gear and medical supplies.

https://www.northstarhealthcollective.org/donate

Find our your local police department’s hiring practices and ensure that disgraced cops cannot be rehired.  Does your police department conduct background checks? What are the union’s rules with respect to fired officers? Can the department be forced to rehire? Are police personnel records available?  Reach out to your city council and your state legislator and demand that they change these policies.  Support efforts to change these policies. The cop who murdered George Floyd had more than ten complaints filed against him and had been involved in three other civilians shootings.  We cannot keep letting these people be rehired.

#Anonymous #effys-closet #effys closet