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an-annyeoing-writer · 3 years

Text

vulnerability. – chap. 1.

Read the prologue here

Story info:

Pair: Byun Baekhyun x Reader

Rating: +18 for mentions of s*x and violence (future chapters)

Genre: angst, smut

Chapter info:

Release date: 16th May 2021

Word count: 3 727

Warnings: mentions of trauma (nothing descriptive)

Vulnerability Masterlist || Fanfiction Masterlist || Ko-Fi

Taglist:

@shesdreaminginoverdose @mybiasdashboard @marimsun @byuns-asscheeks @multi--kpop--fanfics @vunv @making-me-blush @skittlez-area512 @bloopbloopkai @byuns-asscheeks @baekyeonoreo @kimcarinaa

Please, always comment on the newest chapter if you wish to be added to/removed from the taglist. I will be also checking the tags, so if you're shy – feel free to leave a note this way.

Previous (Prologue)

Chap. 1.

Living in a small apartment close to the city center was not always convenient.

You regretted you couldn’t buy all the pretty things that you saw in stores or on Pinterest, because they’d easily overwhelm the limited space. Your neighbors constantly reminded you that they’re a few meters away from you, with screams, children’s cries, music, or chopping meat at 2 AM if that’s what a particular neighbor decided to do.

Fortunately, as the time passed, you got used to most of it and started to appreciate the small space, almost effortless to keep clean, close to both your university and the workplace, and the city center – an area that was always restless during the long days and nights that you spent watching it through your tall window, as if waiting for someone to look back at you.

Despite the comfort of living alone that you tried to indulge in, you couldn’t help growing lonelier and lonelier with every passing day. At the very least, your job and university often took the worries off your mind, and they eventually became your whole life, an existence that focused on never-ending effort in the name of better future, as though there was nothing in the present worth fighting for.

You studied finance; you didn’t give it much hope at first, but it ended up becoming interesting as you started connecting the dots and realizing how broad and important this topic was. Yet, as any newborn financier, you used your secret knowledge in the mysterious field of retail. In other words, you worked part-time as a cashier in a convenience store. Twenty four years old, on your way to getting that famous Master’s degree, already more than halfway through the process, yet – education without experience mattered nothing, as you realized the very moment you started looking for your first job, unable to keep counting on your parents. Not like you wanted to stay in touch with them, anyway.

Adulthood was difficult; the small apartment, due to its location, costed more than your whole family’s used to in your hometown. A small scholarship kept you set up with electricity and water fees, but for WiFi you needed to depend on a close-by library with a good signal; it turned out to have the connection good enough to reach from at least one place in your apartment, the one you coincidentally used for occasional observations. You weren’t sure whether you discovered the WiFi while sitting or if you developed the observing habit upon having to spend your time there over any other place. The only downside of this solution was that some sites were blocked after a scandal over men in the library performing actions other than polite studying, with the help of library computers. The event was outrageous to some, but primarily it became an object of jokes and memes all thorough the city, and maybe even country-wide to some extent. Either way, in times of need, your phone still had its meager data transfer. Good enough.

It was Saturday now; Saturdays were good but busy, because you worked at nights, then slept the shift off, and after you woke up, you could go and study all that you missed throughout the week, if for any reason the classes didn’t sound appealing enough or something else happened, distracting you from them. You spent Saturday afternoons either by the window of your room (where the WiFi reached) or just went straight to the library – a place way more spacious than your own apartment, and quieter as well. The only issue was, that you couldn’t snack in there and you ought to stay quiet. You decided to go with the latter and set foot towards the library.

Therefore, when your phone suddenly rang there, a few faces snapped towards you in obvious disapproval; you cursed internally, before you even managed to pull the phone out of your pocket, because you panicked so much that your hands shook at the initial attempt to do so. You got up from your seat and quickly disappeared between the bookshelves, where the people staying by the tables wouldn’t hear you so well anymore.

“Hello?” you whispered into the phone.

“Hello. Am I disturbing you?”

Your heart dropped as you recognized the voice, although you weren’t completely certain if you recognized it well, it sounded a bit different through the phone. The number was unknown on your phone, but there was only one person that could be calling you today.

You took a few seconds to compose yourself; less than you actually needed, but just enough so that the silence would not turn awkward.

“Um… I can’t talk loudly, but that’s okay.”

“I can call you later.”

“N-no need to, I’ll just whisper.”

“Okay, then.” He was quiet for a few seconds, but you heard some shuffling on the other side. “Do you have time tonight?”

The question was sudden, so you weren’t completely sure, if you did. But your mind felt too empty to figure that out, anyway.

“No. I mean, yes. Sorry, I meant I don’t have plans. So, um, yes, I’m free.” This didn’t sound professional at all. However, you heard quiet laughter on the other side and exhaled almost audibly in relief; it was the first time you heard him laugh with you, and it served to calm your nerves like a wave of calmness coming over you.

“Well, do you want to meet? I’m going to a museum and I don’t feel like going alone. What about that?”

“A museum? That… sounds nice.” When was the last time you’ve been to one? What a perfect opportunity to make a fool out of yourself. “What time?”

“Around six? If that’s okay with you.” If you remembered well, it had to be around three now.

“Sounds alright, where should we meet?”

“I’ll pick you up.”

“Okay. Thank you.” What were you exactly thanking him for? Hard to tell. But you heard him laugh again; you felt like he’s mocking you, but you quickly realized it couldn’t be the case – a warm voice like this couldn’t be ill-intended.

“Sure thing, you’re welcome. We’re set up, then?”

“A-actually, I have a question, if it’s not a problem.” You bit on your lip, knowing than in less than ten seconds, you were going to probably embarrass yourself in front of an educated and serious adult.

“What’s the matter?” he asked politely.

“So, um… What should I wear?”

* * *

You were grateful for the few tips given by Byun Baekhyun at the end of your conversation, because otherwise you’d either be underdressed or overdressed. You ended up wearing a more elegant university attire, something you usually wore for exams, but which didn’t make you appear too formal; a long, woolen skirt that was your private treasure due to its ability to keep you warm even in winter (and it was still spring; the weather was questionable), as well as leather shoes, a beige shirt and a thick, knitted cardigan. You felt quite modest; something told you that it wasn’t a regular date. You didn’t feel a need to reveal anything, or to focus on your feminine attributes. You just felt like it wouldn’t serve any purpose. As long as Baekhyun was concerned, you had an impression that he’s more interested in your mind than in the way you look – the clothes you wore last time, just a little bit revealing and suggestive, had done nothing to save you. You wanted only to look appropriate, and you were sure you managed to achieve at least that.

As you found out soon enough, he wasn’t particularly dressed up, either. A button-up shirt without without a tie – bow or neck type – and jeans, made of high-quality denim, not like the ripped through or worn out ones people sometimes wore. And a suede coat. Although he wasn’t dressed up to look attractive, it would be difficult not to feel attracted to him. Byun Baekhyun had his own aura of independence and considerate distance connected with subtle proximity, and this time, you had the chance to appreciate this harmony, working perfectly for him, highlighting his soft masculinity. Even more so, when you noted a small, gentle smile that appeared on his lips when he spotted you leaving your apartment block.

“Hi there” he spoke.

“Hi there” you replied.

“The museum is nearby, so I didn’t take the car, is that okay?”

It was probably too late to change the means of transport anyway, so the question was pointless. But no, you didn’t mind.

“It’s okay. What museum are we going to?”

He put hands in the pockets of his coat and tilted his head to the side, observing as you approached. You crossed your hands over your chest; it was a bit colder than you expected, and the skirt only warmed you up at the bottom, the wind still reached the top.

“You should put on something warmer. It’ll get even colder on the way back” he spoke. “Go back and get yourself a jacket, I’ll wait.”

You wanted to oppose and say it’s alright, but you didn’t; it didn’t feel right to argue with him. You only nodded and went home to retrieve a better outwear; you were back in no time.

“So? Which museum?”

You looked up at Baekhyun: the man walked by your side, or – in fact – you were walking by his; he stayed in control of the situation, but resonated with warmth and peacefulness rather than the coldness and stillness you experienced last time. And especially as he spoke, you found yourself easing into the conversation more naturally, and your initial fear quickly turned into innocent shyness upon the older man’s presence.

“A complex of museums nearby. There’s everything there, a historical museum of the region, one about the history of mining worldwide, and an art museum. I wanted to see the last one, I heard they unveiled a few new pieces since the the last time I went. You’re not local?” He glanced at you with polite curiosity.

“Not really. I moved here to study” you explained. “I know the nearby area, but I’m not too… um, social. I only know where to do the cheapest groceries and where they sell the best bread.”

“Where?”

“Behind the river, by the intersection with the highway. It looks small but really, you should try it out. Especially their cinnamon rolls.”

Baekhyun hummed.

“That sounds nice. I can recommend the best pizza in return.”

“You eat takeouts often?”

“Yep.”

“You’d save money if you cooked for yourself. Pizzas are expensive.”

Another warm laugh reached your ears, and through them, your heart as well.

“I’ll save money if I spend the time for cooking on working instead.”

“Okay, that’s a valid point. But homemade food is healthier.”

“Depends on where you buy your takeout.” He seemed to have an answer to your every doubt. “I wouldn’t trust just any restaurant, you know? It’s basically what my diet consists of.”

“Variety is also important. Don’t argue with me on that.”

“I won’t. But I won’t take you for a pizza, if that’s your stance on that.”

“I didn’t say I don’t want it” you remarked right away; he replied with laugh, which you found yourself copying naturally.

The conversation flowed smoothly, reaching more or less unimportant topics: the city life, current events, your university, possible career, Baekhyun’s interests – you found out he likes music; it’s too sad to work in silence – and the museum you were going to.

The place you felt initially quite neutral about, brought you more peace than you expected it to. It looked harmonious and the lights were soft. No one hurried through the gallery, and the paintings, although not so interesting at first, you soon learned to appreciate, trying to catch onto small details that, you could tell, Baekhyun already knew by heart, but he smiled every single time you pointed at something specific that caught your attention, even if it was as silly as matching colors, or realistically portrayed lights – these were your favorites.

And, slowly but surely, you got accustomed to the pretty sights, excitement turning into relaxation, and even Baekhyun himself seemed more content than you thought he’d be in your presence.

“You’re different,” you spoke as the two of you sat on a bench in front of one of the tall, monumental pieces; this one was a modern painting full of splashes and mixed colors, soft browns, yellows, and greens, so big that it definitely wouldn’t fit in your bedroom – the first thought you had upon seeing its size.

Despite the painting being in the very center of the gallery, you were the only ones watching it now.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re different today than you were yesterday” you elaborate. “Less… intimidating” you tried to put your thoughts into words.

Baekhyun laughed in response; the laughter was soft and warm, which made you exhale in relief – you feared that he’d feel offended at the remark.

“Yesterday was different. I needed to test you.”

“What do you mean?”

He stared at the painting as he leaned forward, resting elbows on his knees and shifting a little bit, probably thinking how to say the thing he had to say, without causing misunderstandings. You stared at him, completely having lost interest in the painting by now, ready to hear out whatever was to be spoken.

“People often come to me because they’re attracted to me. Well, not blaming them” he grinned; you rolled your eyes a little, but it did relieve the tension, most likely according to his own intention. “However, I’m not interested in romantic relationships. If you come to me expecting a date, you’ll get disappointed. And you won’t be able to handle what it is truly about, if I’m the only thing keeping you interested. It’ll be a hassle for the both of us.”

He glanced at you only briefly, ensuring that you’ve heard him so far before shifting his eyes back forward.

“So I’m always like this at first, just to see how determined you are, and how you behave under pressure. Then I leave you for a few minutes so you have the time to reconsider and leave if willing. That’s a safety measure for you.” He stopped for just a few seconds. “And you – all of you – always check what’s on the other side of the sheet. That’s a safety measure for me.”

“Safety measure?”

“Trust is the basis of the whole deal. If you don’t admit, that you looked at it, it means you’ll keep hiding things later on as well, and I can’t have that.”

“So if I…”

“Yes. If you didn’t correct your statement, we wouldn’t be here right now.” The words sounded ominous even despite the calm tone that Baekhyun used.

“I understand.”

You actually did; the strange aura of yesterday’s meeting finally started to clear out, leaving the simplest facts that all fit into the bigger picture. Yet, you still didn’t know enough. There were more things, more questions, each of which demanded an answer of its own. However, you were still unsure of your stance, and of what Baekhyun had planned for you – for the both of you.

“Will you accept me, then?” you asked finally, breaking through the silence.

“I don’t know yet” he replied in an honest tone, finally reciprocating your gaze. His features were soft, you could tell, he tried not to hurt you with his words. “You’re a nice girl, but I’m not sure if it’ll work out. I need more time. Primarily, I need to get to know you better. And I feel like you need more time, too.”

You nodded slowly.

“Could you, um… tell me more about it?”

“About what I do?”

“Yeah. You didn’t tell me much last time. You mostly only asked questions.”

“True. I may answer some of yours, if you’d like. What are you interested in?”

You cleared your throat; some questions seemed more intrusive than the others and you preferred to leave them for later.

“What would you want to do with me, if we set up a um… a scene?” Is that how you professionally call it? You didn’t remember all that well; you were, in fact, with no experience, only the Internet and your own curiosity to lead you forward – the temptation to explore your interests had been progressing in silence up until now.

“Well, depends on what would be suitable. I do different things with different people. Sometimes, it’s about what they like, and sometimes about what I like, and, the most often, it’s about what we both like. Everyone needs a different approach. I enjoy finding the right approach, and exploring it. It’s different when you start with a virgin, different when you start with a brat, different when you start with someone experienced, different when you start with someone with trauma. The last type is a person I don’t like engaging in. It’s a vulnerable ground and the person often seeks relief instead of therapy. I’m not a therapist. I’m a dominant.”

You took your time to analyze his words and put them all together in your head before you spoke again.

“You wrote something like that on the sheet. That I may have trauma.”

“That’s different,” Baekhyun was quick to elaborate. “Everyone has trauma of sort. Childhood traumas are more common than you think. I meant specifically trauma that comes from similar ground as the one I’m on. It’s not the case for you. According to what you said, you’ve never had any experiences like this and never engaged sexually or romantically.”

Pointing that out hurt a little; yes, so what if you’re 24 years old and a virgin? You had the right to choose your pace. But, you quickly realized, it was your own insecurity poking at you, because Baekhyun sounded anything but judgmental. He didn’t seem particularly impressed either – and you were thankful for that as well. You’ve seen enough men sounding excited when a woman was discovered to be unexperienced. You hated that even more than those who made fun of you; and in the long run, you just learned not to overshare. Telling Baekhyun this truth wasn’t the easiest, so having him say it so casually was definitely weird in your ear.

“However, that’s also a vulnerable point. You don’t know what you’re getting into. It looks different on the screen or in the books than it is in real life. I’m not going to reject you just because you’re new, because everyone’s been at some point. But you must understand, it’s a responsibility, and I don’t want to take one I’m not capable of handling.”

“Have you ever been with someone else like that?”

“With a virgin?”

“…Yeah.”

“Yes. Once. But I didn’t handle it too well back then.”

“What do you mean?”

Baekhyun rubbed his chin, pressing his lips together in slight uneasiness. But you didn’t revoke your question – maybe you should have, for the sake of his comfort, but you felt that the answer wouldn’t be meaningless to you.

“She wanted to be exclusive,” the man finally answered. “I tolerated her for too long. I should have broken the deal as soon as I started seeing red flags, instead of ending up sleeping with her. It made everything only worse.” He spoke quietly, making sure people passing by at times would hear no word. You heard everything clearly, though. “That’s why I’m more picky now. Breaking the deal is not a good thing if it comes from one side. It may leave the other devastated, that’s why I’d rather reduce the risk in advance.”

He looked at your face, seeking understanding and acceptance. You nodded slowly, trying to keep your face as neutral as possible. You didn’t want to add to the pain already displayed on his own. But you appreciated his transparency.

“Does it mean that sex is not always involved?”

“With me, it rarely is” he admitted patiently. “I’m not against it, but I usually do other things. People rarely expect it, and I never pry. Mainly, because in this particular case, I do expect exclusivity. So, as long as no sex is involved, I know some of my subs are dating other people, or even engaging with other doms. However, for safety reasons I demand health checks prior to intercourse, and so on. Not just for me, but because I’m not exclusive myself.” You wondered if his choice of vocabulary was meant to make things less awkward. “However, actual sex is only one of the possibilities. Sexual pleasure that doesn’t involve direct touch may be used as a tool for training, for rewarding and for punishing, even as entertainment… not necessarily to the person it influences. As I said, it depends on who it’s done with. And it may take different forms, too. What’s your stance on that?”

“I don’t feel like I’d be able to as much as undress in front of someone who’s not my doctor” you answered almost instantly, the answer obvious to you, a matter you’ve thought about enough. “Although… well, I suppose it takes time. I’m not against the idea, just… you know.”

Baekhyun only nodded; you glanced at him, feeling a need for any reply that’d soothe you a little.

“I understand. That’s okay.”

You figured it out now; using more formal language made it less embarrassing to listen to. It’s like he tore the words off emotions and left facts only, and you found yourself easing into saying more and more, your embarrassment dissolving as well. No judgments were made.

“Is there anything else you want to know?”

“A lot, to be honest. But I think I know enough for now.”

Right as you said the last words, a sound echoed in the museum, in a soft female voice saying that the museum will close in fifteen minutes.

You took one last glance at the huge painting in front of you, but you felt like, at this point, you wouldn’t find anything new among the random stains and splatters. Baekhyun got up from his seat on the bench and so did you. You spotted him hide a small yawn behind his hand.

The day was coming to an end, and so was your small date – as un-date-ish as it could be.

* * *

Please, reblog if you enjoyed, it'll help me a bunch!

Author's note: hope you're enjoying it so far! Trying to give it a bit sense before more things happen, and, hopefully, this chapter clears it out a little bit. Feel free to talk to me if anything is unclear!

Next (Chapter 2.)

#exowritersnet #kdiarynet #bbh-net #exosnet #exo baekhyun #exo bbh #bbh x reader #bbh #exo #byun baekhyun #exo fanfiction #baekhyun fanfiction #exo x reader #baekhyun x reader #vg: vulnerability #vg: exo #vg: baekhyun #vg: series

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meloingly · 3 years

Text

Drunk In This Love They Have

@carlosreyesweek Day 7: Writer’s Choice

Summary: Owen wakes up with a start. He's not sure what exactly roused him, but he's awake now. He rubs his eyes, taking a moment to stretch out on the bed. The flicker of the clock attracts his vision, and he reads the blue "1:23 AM" with a frown. Why did he wake up after midnight?!

The lights inside turn on, and the door finally closes. Owen takes a few moments sitting in the car alone, in the dark. He supposes he should feel some loneliness, but he doesn’t. All he feels is happiness and giddiness for his son, amusement regarding the entire situation, and hope for the future that TK and Carlos will be sharing together.

Tags: Carlos Reyes, TK Strand, Owen Strand, Established Carlos Reyes/TK Strand, Soft Carlos Reyes/TK Strand, Sweet Carlos Reyes (9-1-1 Lone Star), Drunk Carlos Reyes, Good Parent Owen Strand.

Warnings: Drunk flirting and awkward dad existence.

This is such a crack, dumbass fic but I love it so much. It has just been finished too. I have two settings apparently. Finish a fic a month before the event, or three hours before the end of the event.

This idea came from the "Mi Amor Tarlos" discord server. Major kudos to Kate <3

As usual, @lire-casander is the best human to ever exist. I am, once again, writing this as she goes over the final edit of the fic. She's beauty, she's grace, she's right about the best thing I've gotten out of this fandom <3

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters depicted, they belong to their creators. I'm writing just for the fun

Read on AO3.

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Owen wakes up with a start. He's not sure what exactly roused him, but he's awake now. He rubs his eyes, taking a moment to stretch out on the bed. The flicker of the clock attracts his vision, and he reads the blue "1:23 AM" with a frown. Why did he wake up after midnight?!

He turns to a side, pulling his blanket up around his shoulder and trying to find a position that'll send him back to slumber when his phone pings. He decides to ignore it, the edges of sleep tickling his consciousness when it pings again, and again.

With a sigh, he reaches forward and grabs his phone, the glare of the screen blinding him for a moment until he turns on the bedside table. He looks back at the phone, finding five messages from Carlos.

A chill runs through Owen. For a moment he thinks something happened with TK. But then he remembers that they're both off for the next day, and he knows that TK is asleep in his room down the hall. He relaxes immediately, only to frown again when his phone pings with yet another message. He opens the thread.

Carlos Reyes: HIIIIIII TJ

Carlos Reyes: TL***

Carlos Reyes: TK********

Carlos Reyes: i drank sooo mucj

Carlos Reyes: i am frunk

Carlos Reyes: i lobe yoi sooo muvj

Owen stares at his phone, blinking in confusion. Carlos is… drunk, that much he's sure of. And he loves his son, which he's glad about. But he also seems to think that Owen is actually TK. Which is unfortunate. He's about to reply with a clarification when he gets four new messages in quick succession.

Carlos Reyes: i niss tou too

Carlos Reyes: van i see yiu when I het hone?

Carlos Reyes: i wamma cuffle

Carlos Reyes: cuddle

He can't help the smile that graces his face. Seeing how Carlos still thinks about his son, even in a drunk state, warms a deep corner of his soul. It's the kind of love he's always hoped for his son.

Carlos Reyes: amd kiss tou

Carlos Reyes: ans fuck yoi

And then it's no longer wholesome. He groans, dropping the phone and covering his face, as if that'll somehow erase the image that's been painted in his mind. He moves his phone away, putting it down on the table when it pings again, and again, and again.

He groans out loud again, reaching for the phone as he takes a deep breath. Two more pings come in during the time it takes him to do that. He turns the screen on, bringing the thread back up.

Carlos Reyes: uoire thw best thinj to eber hapoen to me

Carlos Reyes: i wanma lobe yoi forevr

Carlos Reyes: ill dhow yoi wiyh endless kissed

Owen glares at the phone, as if it can travel through the phone and reach Carlos. He sees the three dots bubbling about and he makes a decision, bringing up his own keyboard to type a reply.

Owen Strand: Carlos, this is Owen. You're texting the wrong Strand.

The bubbles pause for a moment, and Owen thinks he's going to get an apology text, or maybe even he'll get ignored and that will be tomorrow's problem. But they come back on the screen three seconds later and then he's getting a message.

Carlos Reyes: anf lobing sex

Carlos Reyes: yoi shoufl pivk me up do we cab habe s fucj

In a decision made over a split second, Owen is getting out of bed and marching down the hall to TK's room. He pauses at the door, straining to listen for movement. When he doesn't hear anything he softly knocks on the door. He gets a soft "hmm" almost immediately. So he swings the door open.

He finds TK in bed, blanket crowded at his feet and a book in his hands, eyes wide and awake. He pauses for a second, he was sure TK would be asleep. They did just return from a twenty-four-hour shift a few hours ago. He’s about to ask when TK beats him to it.

"You okay?" TK asks, looking at the clock on his bedside table. "It's almost one-thirty, dad. Why are you still awake?"

Owen sighs, remembering the reason he came in search of TK in the first place. There's a lot of things he would have seen himself telling his son, his own blood and flesh, at an hour after midnight. This is not one of them. And yet.

"Your boyfriend is drunk and wants to have sex with you," he says, going straight to the point.

TK stares at him, head turning to a side in pure confusion as his forehead creases into a frown. "My what? What?!"

"Your. Boyfriend. Is. Drunk. And. Wants. To. Have. Sex. With. You," he repeats.

"Wait, how do you know, what are you talking about?!" He asks, putting the book down and coming to a weird half-seated position where he has one leg half bent out in front of him and the other is tucked underneath him.

As if on cue, Owen's phone pings two more times. He brings the phone up, reading the messages quickly and then he's stepping into TK's room, scrolling up to the beginning of the messages and handing the phone over.

Carlos Reyes: r u oivking me uo?

Carlos Reyes: ill oay you eith sex

He watches as TK's eyes move from one side to the other on the screen, smiling at parts and then eyes widening at others, before he ends with a hand to his face, hiding away behind his palms.

"Oh, god," he groans. "He's so drunk."

Owen can't help the snort that rises through his throat, shaking in head in amusement. "Yes, that's an understatement."

The phone rings again in TK's hand. They share a look before TK turns the screen on and reads the messages. Owen doesn't want to know what the contents are when they're the cause of a bright red flush that takes over TK's face and neck. Still, he can't resist when the opportunity presents itself like this.

"What's he saying?"

TK stutters, looking up at Owen then down at the phone. "He's asking if I'm picking him up. The designated driver is drunk too."

Owen might have not been there for the large part of his kid's life, but he still knows when he's hiding something. And right now, TK is hiding something. But he understands; he knows his relationship with TK isn't usual, he knows that they are way too comfortable discussing their sex lives, but Carlos isn't. And Owen can't do much more than nod in acceptance when his son is trying to protect and respect his boyfriend's dignity.

"Okay, get dressed. Be at the door in ten minutes," he gets off the bed, heading to the door.

"Wait, wait, what?" TK calls. "Where are we going?"

Owen turns around slowly, facing TK, as if the answer wasn't obvious. "We're going to pick him up. You don't have a license yet, so I'm driving," he explains. "So let's go, your man is waiting."

It takes TK a moment, but then he’s getting on his feet and moving around the bed into his closet. Owen closes the door and walks to his own room, changing his pyjama pants to sweatpants and slipping into a pair of sneakers. He’s at the front door in minutes, keys and wallet in hand. TK comes barrelling through the house behind him in seconds.

They’re in the car, Owen turning the ignition on, when a quick succession of four or five messages ping through. TK glances at him out of the corner of his eye before he focuses back on his hands and turns the screen on. Owen catches the edge of a picture, and, from what he could tell, it’s just a selfie of Carlos and his partner, Jack. He decides to focus on the task in hand, asking TK for the location of the bar and swerving out of their driveway.

The drive isn’t that long, the bar a mere fifteen minutes away from their home. They spend the ride singing along to the music coming from the Bluetooth speakers, until a few messages ping through, at which point TK would stop singing, pull up the messages, type something in reply, and then get back to the singing.

They’re about half-way there when the ringing sounds around the entire car. Owen recognises the call notification and presses on the reply button a little too fast for his brain to remember that Carlos is texting him right now, and this is probably Carlos calling, and the phone is connected to the car’s Bluetooth system.

“HIIIIIIIIIII!” Carlos’ loud, clearly drunk and slurring voice fills the car a bare second after he’s pressed the button on his steering wheel, his tone so high-pitched Owen finds himself wincing.

“Hi! Hi, baby, hi,” TK is already screaming in reply, bringing the phone to his mouth only to pull it away when he realises it’s all around him, and then just saying it into the void. “Are you okay? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything is perfecto,” Carlos answers with a sigh, his voice muffled and mixing with the bar around him now that he isn’t screaming. “I just miss you, so, so, so much. And I’m sad.”

Owen glances at TK, the look of worry on his face mirrored on TK’s.

“Why are you sad? Is everything okay?”

“Jack is hugging and kissing Alana, and I’m here, alone and lonely,” Carlos replies in a tone that makes Owen right about a hundred percent sure that he’s pouting. He shakes his head as TK chuckles.

“You’re not lonely baby, you’re there with your friends,” he reminds Carlos.

“But my friends are kissing each other and making out and I think Alana has her hand in Jack’s pants and I’m here without your hands in my pa-”

The rest of his sentence is cut by a short scream from TK as he fumbles with the phone, finally pressing the button that disconnects the Bluetooth. Owen manages to resist laughing out loud but he has no power against the grin that splits his face wide. He feigns ignorance as he listens to TK whispering his replies. Somehow, even through the phone and the distance, he still hears Carlos, loud, loveable and oh so drunk.

A few minutes later and they’re finally pulling up the bar, pulling into the parking lot. Owen finds the closest free spot, putting the car in park and turning to face TK, who has his head down, the phone still pressed to his ear. He seems to have not even realised that they’ve arrived at their destination.

“Hey,” he nudges TK, nodding towards the bar when TK looks up at him. “Go get him.”

TK smiles at Owen, opening the door and dropping his phone into the seat. “I’ll call you if I need anything?” he asks, closing the door and moving towards the bar when Owen nods.

He follows TK until he disappears into the threshold of the bar, then closes his eyes and rests his head on the backrest of his seat as he sighs. He isn’t sure how his night came to this end, but here he is. He’s also sure he would have never done the same for any of TK’s previous boyfriends. But Carlos isn’t any boyfriend. Carlos is… Carlos is good. Carlos is a different type of man than the ones TK has been with. Carlos is nice, and respectful, and sweet. Carlos loves his son.

He supposes that’s what this all comes down to. The fact that he knows that Carlos loves his son, the way he always knew TK deserves to be loved. And he knows that TK loves Carlos, too. It’s the love that he’s only ever dreamt of TK having, a dream that seemed to get farther and farther away with every new man TK introduced him to. Until Carlos walked into TK’s life. He doesn’t want to undermine TK’s own work and tribulations to make himself better, but Carlos has no doubt been a large part of the support system he’s had during that time.

And so, if Owen has to wake up at one-thirty in the morning to drive his son to a bar so he can pick up said son’s drunk boyfriend, he’s willing to do that in a heartbeat.

A dull crash against the side of the car has Owen opening his eyes in alarm and looking at the side-mirrors of the car. He doesn’t see anything in the driver’s side of the car, but when he looks towards the passenger’s side, well, he sees TK, back pressed to the side of the car. And he sees Carlos, hovering over TK. And he sees two tongues fighting in the middle of the space between them before their mouths slam back together. And then, through the car, he hears the loud, unmistakable moan.

“Oh, no. No, no, no,” he groans, looking back in front of him. It’s one thing for him to read what Carlos wants to do to his son, it’s a completely different thing for him to see it starting to happen. He takes a few deep breaths, glancing at the mirror every few moments. When he sees that they’re still in the same position, he leans over the console, knocking on the window until TK breaks the kiss and turns around.

His eyes widen when he sees Owen, hands coming up from wherever they are to hold Carlos around the shoulders. TK might have seen Owen, but Carlos seems to still be in his own fairyland; he trails kisses down TK’s neck until he gets to a spot and then his head stops in there. Owen doesn’t need to guess what Carlos is doing right now, the way TK’s eyes flutter shut tell him all he needs to know.

But no, this is too much. He leans over, knocking on the window again until TK’s eyes open and takes a deep breath, hands tightening around Carlos’ shoulders as he slowly pulls him away. Owen did not need to see the line of saliva connecting Carlos’ lips to TK’s neck.

He hears them exchange a few sentences, voice low and sultry, if he has to guess. Carlos’ eyes are blown wide, a smile permanently glued on his face, even as he nods and shakes his head in reply to whatever TK is saying. He hears Carlos giggle one last time and then TK is moving them back enough to open the back door.

“Hello, Mister Strand,” Carlos greets him the moment the door is open, words slurred, smile wide and eyes bright. “How ya doin?”

“I’m all good, Carlos, how are you?” he asks, chuckling as TK helps Carlos settle in.

“I’m fantastic! Did you know that TK came to pick me up because I asked him to?!”

This time Owen really can’t help the laugh that booms out of his chest. He hears TK snicker as well, Carlos joining in at the end. “Did he now?”

“Yes, yes, he did,” he nods his head almost aggressively. “He’s the bestest ever. I love him so much.”

“I love you too, baby,” TK replies, kissing Carlos softly on the lips as he finally finishes securing the seatbelt. Owen turns around, focusing on turning on the car -as if it takes that much concentration- to give them a moment alone. He hears them exchange “I love you’s” a few times and then TK retreats, closing the back door and opening the front one to get his own self into the car.

TK is barely a foot into the car when Carlos calls from the backseat. “TK?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” he asks, turning around in his seat to look at Carlos.

“Why are you so far away? How am I supposed to hold you?” Carlos speaks in the same tone as earlier, the one Owen thought was coming from a pouting face. Looking at the rearview mirror, he sees that there is indeed a pout on Carlos.

“I’m right here, baby,” TK answers, extending an arm to rub at Carlos’ curls.

“But, you’re so far away. I’m all alone in this big seat! You should sit here! With me! You can even sit on m-”

“OKAY!!!!” TK interrupts yet again. “Let’s not do that, baby. We need to be safe.”

Owen hears a sigh and then Carlos is mumbling his approval. He waits until TK is twisted back in his seat and has put his seatbelt on before he starts the journey back.

It’s only then that he realises they haven’t discussed where they would be driving back to.

“Where are we going, TK?”

“TO SEX LAND!” Carlos screams, and a perfectly coordinated groan leaves both the Strand men.

“Carlos, no!” TK retorts.

“Carlos, YES!” Carlos says back.

Owen sees TK opening his mouth from the corner of his eye, but Carlos evidently isn’t finished speaking.

“Hey, Owen, you should take us to my house, that way we can make as much noise as we want,” he says, much to the dismay of everyone that isn’t Carlos. He doesn’t seem to realise what’s wrong with what he’s saying, he just keeps talking. “TK gets really loud at times, and I do too to be honest, and it’s so hard to stay quiet when we are in your house, so we should go to my house.”

As funny as this entire situation is, the conviction with which Carlos says it leaves Owen no choice but to respect him, even as TK tries to sink deeper into his seat in an attempt to blend with the upholstery.

“Okay, Carlos, I’ll take you guys to your house,” Owen says, shaking his head at both Carlos and TK’s shenanigans.

“Thank yooou, Owen,” Carlos says. Owen is about to focus back on the street when Carlos gasps, and the sound of skin hitting skin echoes around in the car.

Owen looks through the rearview mirror, finding Carlos with his hands covering his mouth, and eyes wide, as if he just saw something from his nightmares. The empty streets make it easy for Owen to cross two lanes and stop in the sideway, both Strands turning around to face a now teary-eyed Carlos.

Owen turns on the overhead lights as TK fumbles with his seatbelt, trying to get it undone, even as he keeps his eyes on Carlos, asking him what’s wrong. It’s only when he’s in the backseat with him that Carlos unclutches his face and wipes his tears.

“I was rude to your dad, TK. I was so rude to your dad, my mom is going to be so mad at me,” he whispers. “I didn’t say mister, TK.”

Owen feels the concern -so thick a moment ago- melt and dissolve into nothing. He sinks into his seat, turning to sit straight. TK stays back with Carlos, wiping his tears and whispering sweet nothings as he assures him that his mother would not be mad at him. Carlos tries to fight him on it, saying that she most definitely would be, but he stops pretty quick once TK asks if he trusts him.

He uses the distraction to grab his phone from the glove compartment, where TK disposed of it earlier. He brings up the camera, making sure that the flash is off, and presses on record.

He can’t see the screen and what he’s filming, but through the rearview mirror, he sees TK wiping Carlos’ tears, forehead leaning on him as he presses kisses to his temple in between whispers and smiles. He sees Carlos hold onto TK’s arm, looking up at him with a soft smile and wet tears. A few moments later Carlos giggles and TK smiles at him, pressing a final kiss to his forehead before he straightens up and buckles himself next to Carlos.

He’s about to turn off the camera when Carlos presses a kiss to TK’s shoulder and lays his head onto it. His hand runs along TK’s arm, intertwining their fingers. “I love you,” he whispers.

TK takes a breath, a soft smile gracing his face as he turns his face to another kiss atop Carlos’ curls.

Owen turns off the screen, putting the phone away and switching off the light. He turns on the car, focusing back on the journey.

By the time he’s pulling up into Carlos’ driveway, the back seat is quiet. He switches the car off, looking back to find Carlos -head still on TK’s shoulder- with his eyes closed and mouth open in soft, almost inaudible snores. TK has the fondest expression on his face as he looks down at Carlos, a hand wrapped around his, the other sweeping around Carlos’ head, playing with his curls.

He almost regrets bursting their bubble, but he doesn’t think the car is the most comfortable place for them all to be right now. So he lays a hand on TK’s knee, waiting until he looks up at him, looking almost dazed. “We’re here,” he whispers.

TK looks out of the window, recognition dawning on him. He nods in reply before he focuses down on Carlos, whispering to him softly as his eyes flutter open and he slowly rouses from his doze.

Carlos looks up at TK, a brief moment of a smile coming onto him before he stretches his limbs out as much as the car allows and then he curls back into his place, mumbling incoherence.

“Come on, baby, we’re here,” TK whispers. “Let’s go inside.”

Carlos opens his eyes at that, staring up at TK. “We gon’ cuddle?” he asks.

TK chuckles, shaking his head, the loving look never leaving his face. “Yeah, let’s go cuddle.”

Owen watches as TK helps himself and then Carlos out of the car, and then holds Carlos around the waist as they walk up the porch. TK takes a moment to slip his hand into Carlos’ front pocket, producing a set of keys that he inserts into the front door lock.

As they move into the house, TK turns and nods at Owen, and he returns it. When Carlos looks at him though and turns to do the same, with much more enthusiasm, waving at him, face scrunched with a wide grin, Owen can’t help but repeat it to him, waving back at the giant dork.

The lights inside the house turn on, and the door finally closes. Owen takes a few moments sitting in the car alone, in the dark. He supposes he should feel some loneliness, but he doesn’t. All he feels is happiness and giddiness for his son, amusement regarding the entire situation, and hope for the future that TK and Carlos will be sharing together.

#carlosreyesweek2021 #Day 7: Writer's Choice #Carlos Reyes #TK Strand #Owen Strand #Tarlos #Tarlos fic #911 lone star #911 lone star fic

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akvtsuki-ari · 4 years

Text

Sweetheart (Ch.1)

Warnings: Mentions of BDSM and bunch of other kinks but nothing sexual in this chapter lol. Sub!Spencer and Femdom!Reader

Length: 5.3k

Authors Note: this is hands down the most self-indulgent shit ive ever wrote but do i care? the answer is no dsjk but this that series i had planned where the reader introduces spencer to proper BDSM and all that. hoping to make this fic kinda informative also lol. also im uploading this fic on ao3 as well. also no tags for this fic bc its really specific and ill probably be writing for it for a while! sorry about that

Plot Summary: Spencer Reid just wanted to be.., well, you know. He doesn’t expect to find much when he signs up for a BDSM dating website but somehow he manages you and he couldn’t be more delighted

Spencer Reid was certainly a lot of things. He was a lover of the arts, someone who had a particular affinity for 15th-century literature, a magician at best, a theater nerd at worst, and a teacher when life called for it. He loves the world even when it's really dark and he loves sleeping in even more. He loves his friends and they love him too - even when they pretend that his random facts annoy them. Spencer Reid was a friend, an FBI agent, a genius with an IQ of 187, and a son to a mother he loves wholly. He was a lot of things and for the most part - he knew a lot about what he really loved to do. He supposed that it's been like that his whole life.

It's not everyday that he discovers something new about himself. About everything else? Always. He loves to learn, but about himself? There's never all that much on the frontier.

It's hard to say, because of that, when Spencer discovered he was a sub. It's difficult to pinpoint a specific time and place, or even how the pieces got put together. He just remembers how it felt when it hit him, like a freight train going 100 miles an hour into a concrete wall. Or a plane crashing onto an island. Or like a fly hitting the glass panes of a delivery truck. He remembers the feeling when he was deftly reminded of this fact. Spencer Reid was a sub - through and through and he wasn't really sure what to make of it.

Surprisingly to most of his direct peers, Spencer wasn't a virgin. He'd had sex with 2 people who he'd been kinda friends with at some point, but it always got a little weird after that. The second time though, the girl ended up choking him a little bit when she got off and Spencer thought he had died. Not in a bad way, more in a "I'm so turned on by this I feel like I've genuinely gone to heaven," sort of way. He didn't think it was possible for a sexual encounter to make him feel like that but it did. It didn't stop after that either, which was the most agitating part.

Spencer doesn't consider himself a sexual person. Sex is about intimacy and companionship, and hopefully love when he finds that someday. Sex isn't necessarily about pleasure but that wasn't an easy lesson to learn.

Spencer just wanted to understand - so like any great genius he participated in thought experiments. It's normally a female superhero/supervillain that crosses his mind (he has an affinity for Poison Ivy), and he just kinda imagines what it would be like if they did what she did. The choking turned him on, but it wasn't enough. Through that, he figures out that he had more than a choking kink and that he was more than a little interested in a partner having complete access to him. He thought about it for weeks and the getting off was working for him but he couldn't get the fantasy out of his head. He wanted more - he wanted someone to fulfill his wishes.

It was too much for him to ignore. Those months of being able to hold off through masturbating are over and he's just sorta itching. Aching to act on those impulses with another person who can give him what he needs, and he doesn't want it to be transactional. Maybe it's too ideal to want a partner out of such an endeavor but was it so wrong? To want real affection and romance from someone who could also overpower him wasn't a crime and he'd be damned if he pretended to want any less. Spencer was just searching, even if it was rather desperately.

So, when Spencer finds himself on a BDSM dating site and he feels like his life is in shambles, he can only blame himself. It's not something he'd normally do but he's getting a little more than relentless about it but he also just wants to see what's out there. He's so out of it was it happens, it felt like he was being possessed as he made a fake email and wrote out his account information. Definitely blaming it on possession, he thinks.

It's too late to go back, as he scrolls through tons of profiles of rather intense looking people. He's not surprised, this is where people go to express themselves. They're entitled to that, it just sucks since he's just not ready for such levels of intensity. He wonders if he's in too deep yet, but he figures he'd hit that mark a long time ago and keeps scrolling through profiles. There wasn't much to go off of, many people not choosing to use photos for the sake of anonymity, which was good for Spencer. He clicks onto his own profile, reading his own bio carefully.

USERNAME: DOC187

SUB/ SWITCH / DOM

M / F / O

FETISHES: N/A

BIO: Interest in a dominant female companion. Completely inexperienced.

Spencer feels ridiculous, but he doubts anyone would even message him. He doesn't have much on his profile and he keeps things short for that purpose. He wanted to stay as low to the ground as possible - more curious to explore what was going in the world than to find anything legitimate. He scrolls through hundreds of profiles, mostly of people who were BDSM vets looking for new connections or fun. Some people catch his eye but they don't match his interests so he doesn't bother.

Except, one profile. The bio was beyond interesting to Spencer.

USERNAME: MISS—LILAC

SUB / SWITCH / DOM

M / F / O

FETISHES: Sadomasochist, Degradation, Humiliation, Pegging, Overstimulation, Edging, Crossdressing, Exhibitionism, Mutual Masturbation, Dacryphilia, Shibari/Gags/Bondage, Wax Play, Impact Play, Breath Play, General Sensation Play, Discipline, Collaring, Begging. Willing to try most things.

BIO: Interested in submissive males of any experience level. Helps if you're interesting and like to read and watch indie films. Looking for genuine connection and plenty of good banter. Curly hair is nice too. lol.

Before Spencer can think about it for too long his mouse clicks over that stupid little message button next to your profile. Spencer shakes his head at his own existence as he types you a message. Says you're online right now, but Spencer's sure he won't get a response for a while.

DOC187: Seems I fit who you're interested in. I even have the curly hair.

Spencer chews on his nails anxiously before he sighs at himself. He has no clue what's gotten into him belle before he can think he sees your 3-dotted bubble pop up. He feels his body wracked with nerves.

MISS—LILAC: I'm guessing you like to read and watch indie films too?

Spencer smiles. You seem interesting and the fact that the two of you were just talking normal was making Spencer happy.

DOC187: Indeed. I'm a sucker for 15-century literature and anything in Russian and foreign language. You?

MISS—LILAC: 15th century huh? I'll assume Chaucer. And Russian? You're interesting, doc. I'm more modern and English, hope you're not deterred.

Spencer smiles, surprised that you recognize an author as niche as Chaucer. He shakes his head at your commentary. He almost forgets that both of you are on a BDSM dating site and the irony doesn't escape him.

DOC187: Deterred? Never. I think you're rather interesting too, Miss Lilac.

MISS—LILAC: Ever the gentleman doc. I'm hoping you won't run away if I ask you more personal questions.

Spencer swallows. He types back quickly.

DOC187: What kinds of questions?

MISS—LILAC: If it's okay, you're real name and what you do. My names Y/N, and I'm a florist. I live in DC and I love romance novels.

Spencer smiles. He appreciates you laying down the path for him, knowing the stakes.

DOC187: My names Spencer and I work for the FBI. I also live in DC, and I love magic.

MISS—LILAC: Magic? I'd love for you to show me sometime.

Spencer swallows. Part of him feels like it's a stupid idea to ask you out so early but if you asked, he'd likely say yes. He decides to wait it out.

DOC187: I'd be more than happy to show you.

MISS—LILAC: I suppose you could send me a video but that's not the same as seeing the magic in real life, now is it?

Spencer is smiling like an idiot at this point. He shakes his head a little, jittery.

DOC187: Infinitely better live, I would say.

MISS—LILAC: Seems like I've found an excuse to ask you on a date then. Saturday's work for me but I'm sure it depends on you, FBI man. Before that, I'm gonna drop my number and I'll be expecting your call. (XXX-XXX-XXXX)

Spencer giggles. It's a little out of range for things he's used to doing, giggling aloud for someone else is certainly new. Spencer picks up his phone and dials away, anxious to call you but excited nonetheless. He heard you pick up the phone and his heart catches in his throat.

"Hello?," Your voice is smooth, and a little bit lower than he was expecting. It sounds pretty.

"Hello, Y/N," Spencer says back. He heard you laugh on the other side and can't help the way his heart flutters.

"Lovely to talk to you doc,"

"Still Doc? Not Spencer?" Spencer questions. You smile on the other side of the line.

"Doc seems to fit you. But, for the sake of formality, hello Spencer,"

"I like Doc too, but it feels like I should have a nickname for you as well. Only seems fair," Spencer says laughing quietly.

"If it's your prerogative you can call me Miss Lilac, or just Miss but..." you trail off for a minute. Spencer squints.

"Miss is a title, you know? Doesn't seem fair for you to call me that when I haven't earned it from you yet. I'm sure we'll get there but for now you can just call me Y/N," you say softly. Spencer blushes bright red, his voice betraying him as he speaks.

"O-Oh, well um - where does the name Lilac come from? Normally people go with their names when it comes to stuff like that," Spencer says shyly. He heard you laugh on the other side of the phone and blushes again, grateful you can't see him.

"I love the language of flowers and flowers themselves. It's a way to speak that not many people know - but I like the meaning and look of lilacs. White lilacs represent purity, so that was a bit of irony, but light purple lilacs mean first love," you say carefully.

"First love?," Spencer asks. You bite your lip for a moment.

"I joke that BDSM is my first love since it's such a big part of my life. Not as big as some but not small for certain. It gave me much needed confidence so I joke that it was my first," You say lightly. You hear Spencer giggle on the other side and you smile.

"What about your username? Any significance to DOC187 that I should know of?," you readjust your seat on your couch as you talk. Spencer grows a bit embarrassed.

"I normally introduce myself as Doctor Spencer Reid for work, not a medical doctor but I have three PhD's," Spencer admits. You raise your brows but hear the hesitation in his voice.

"Very, very impressive doc. What about the 187? It could be a plain ol' number but my guess would be otherwise,"

"That's my IQ, actually. I don't think intelligence can be boiled down and quantified like that but I couldn't think of anything else," Spencer explains.

"So you're a certified genius with 3 PhD's? To say I'm impressed is an understatement. Anything else impressive you'd like to tell me before I totally pick your brains," you say a little shocked.

"You wanna pick my brains?," Spencer asks. You wanna laugh at the irony of such a silly question from such an intelligent man but you refrain.

"Who wouldn't?," you say incredulously. Spencer smiles shyly.

"The only other thing is that I can read 20,000 words per minute," Spencer says trying to deflect. Your jaw dropped before but it manages to unhinge a little further.

"There's a lot to get to know about you Doctor Reid,"

"I'm sure it's the same for you," Spencer replies.

"Guess we'll have to find out won't we?," you say smiling.

Damn, Spencer got lucky. Hopefully he'd get to find out soon

_____

"Reid, are you listening?," Derek's voice snaps Spencer out of his entranced state. His smiling expression snaps up to look at Derek who looks a little exasperated.

"Sorry, what was that?," Spencer asks back. Derek puts down the case file they were working on. They had just finished a case and needed to complete some paperwork before submitting it for review and to be used in court. The job was given to him and Morgan and Spencer was evidently distracted.

"Alright, kid - what is up with you? All case you've been checking your phone non-stop and spacing out, all smiles and giggles. C'mon now kid, seriously. You got a little lady at home waiting for you or is there something else I don't know about?," Derek interrogates. Spencer doesn't really know what to make of it, though it's not really in his interest to hide you, it hasn't really come up with anyone on the team yet so it was proving difficult to decide what to do. The smile on his face manages to appear again as he starts to think about you, the tips of his ears red.

"Reid," Morgan says again, with a small look of irritation.

"Her names Y/N," Spencer blurts out faster than he can't think. Derek gives him a huge grin, holding his hand out to dap Spencer up. Spencer just looks at it confused for a second before getting the memo.

"'My man," Derek says chuckling. Before Spencer can continue Prentiss, JJ, and Garcia walk in. Hotch is the only one missing, and Spencer's a little grateful.

"What are we celebrating in here you guys?," Prentiss asks first. Spencer goes to say something to move away from his sudden confession but Derek is quick to cut him off.

"Our boy genius over here got him a little lady," Derek announces. The whole team erupts in questions and Spencer wants to bury himself.

"Congratulations, Spencer!! How long have you two been dating?," Prentiss asks.

"You guys are so dramatic. It's only been two months but no first date because well..." Spencer trails off. JJ just nods her head.

"Duty calls, I'm guessing" JJ finishes. Spencer nods deflated hearing Emily draw a breath between her teeth.

"That's tough, Spence,"

Just as Spencer goes to give a response back he gets a text from you that makes his day a little better. It's a selfie of you at work, a picture your employee must've taken of you in a room full of new flower deliveries. You're giving Spencer a toothy grin as you hold a bunch of gardenias in your hand.

Y/N 🌸: *image attachment*

Gardenias// You're lovely + Secret Love <33

Spencer cannot control the way his whole face bunches up in a smile, as if there's no one else in the room with him. Everyone just looks at him surprised, Garcia giving him a side-eye.

"How can you guys trust this stranger? We don't even know who she is! I haven't even run any background checks on her," Garcia complains. Prentiss nudges her side.

"I don't know if it matters - look at how hard he's smiling over there," Prentiss says. Garcia reluctantly looks and can't help but sigh.

"Okay well he seems really happy but still! We don't even know her," she pouts.

"I'm sure we'll meet her soon," JJ snickers at Spencer's lovestruck expression. Derek leans over Spencer's shoulder and raises his brows.

"Is that her, kid?," Derek asks. Spencer nods, simply staring at the picture you sent. Derek whistles when he sees you - you're genuinely stunning and he's surprised to say the least.

"Hot mama, pretty boy - how'd you manage that?," Derek asks, dumbfounded. Emily rolls her eyes.

"C'mon Derek, I'm sure - oh wow," Emily leans over Spencer's shoulder to see you and is met with the same reaction. JJ and Garcia are quick to follow thereafter, both looking equally as surprised.

"She's..." JJ trails off. The rest of the team just nods as Spencer grins ear to ear.

Spencer 🐻: Beautiful, as always.

Spencer ignores the rest of the team as they look at each other in disbelief.

Y/N🌸: Me or the flowers, Doc?

Spencer🐻: Both, but mostly you.

"Wow, Spencer you're really -" Prentiss starts

"You're whipped, kid. I mean seriously whipped," Derek finishes, nodding in agreement. JJ can't help but smile, giving Spencer a small pat on the back.

"She seems lovely, Spencer. How'd you two meet?," JJ says. Garcia stands around looking rather suspicious. A blush creeps onto Spencer's neck as he's reminded of how you two met.

"Online," Spencer says shortly. No one decides to question it, and Spencer thanks every god he can think of.

"Have you two FaceTimed yet? How can we know she's not, I don't know - catfishing you? Or scamming you in some other cyber criminal way?," Garcia sounds distressed. Spencer gives a small smile.

"We fall asleep over FaceTime every night," Spencer admits. Penelope's expression falls, and Prentiss gives a smile.

"That is disgustingly cute," JJ says laughing.

"Okay, well - I'm still running a background check on her," Garcia says stubbornly "But, I'm happy for you,"

"Thanks Garcia," Spencer mumbles out as he texts you again.

Y/N🌸: I wanna see you, love

Spencer blushes red as he reads your message. The word love makes his whole face hot.

Spencer🐻: I can't take a selfie for my life

Y/N🌸: You're with your team aren't you? Get them to take a picture of you.

Spencer wants to fold away, not ever really being the picture type, but how could he ever deny you.

Spencer🐻: How could I ever say no to you?

"Hey guys, can one of you take a picture of me for Y/N?" Spencer asks embarrassingly red. The whole team sends him a look of surprise.

"I'll take it Spence, try not to look as uncomfortable as you do right now," JJ says. The whole team refrains from laughing as Spencer gives an awkward smile. He thanks JJ who hands him back his phone before texting you again.

Spencer🐻: *image attachment* You owe me one

Y/N🌸: you're stunning as always. hadn't seen you in so long I almost forgot what you looked like.

Spencer🐻: stunnings an interesting choice of words.

Y/N🌸: I said what I said, doc.

Spencer can't help but do a little giggle, that causes the whole team to give him a look. Morgan just shakes his head, shrugging. Emily, JJ, and Garcia just look at each other before the room draws into a subtle but comfortable silence as Spencer just smiles, totally unaware of how whipped he happened to look. He didn’t seem to mind either way.

___

"How was work?," Spencer asks over the phone, kicking his shoes off as he looks into his fridge for something to eat. He hears you sigh on the other side of the line.

"Busy today - wedding season is coming up so tons of calls for centerpiece designs and costs. It's going well though, business couldn't be better," you say, clearly tired yet content. Spencer gives a small smile and feels relieved that things are going okay for you.

"That's really good. I'm glad you're feeling alright," Spencer replies. You ease into the couch as you talk to Spencer, relaxing by the second.

"What about you, FBI man? You have an okay day?," Your voice is full of a gentle concern that Spencer appreciates.

"Yeah, just paperwork and JJ said that we shouldn't have any upcoming cases this week to be worried about so I have the weekend off," Spencer says without thought.

"Have any special plans for the weekend?," you say cheekily. Spencer, still not having caught on, shakes his head for a second.

"No, why?,"

"Hm... well - would you like to go on a date with me then Doctor Reid?," You ask, giggling. Spencer's eyes widen in realization as he facepalms for a moment.

"Wow, I didn't even think... yes - yes I would love to go on a date with you Y/N," Spencer says laughing at his own misfortune. You shake your head instinctively, but the growing smile and even further growing adoration makes it hard to sit still.

"Hey, Spencer," you say, butterflies filling your stomach.

"Yeah?"

"I really like you,"

____

Saturday comes quicker than Spencer can really understand. You told him not to worry about what the days plans would be but he can't help it. Anxiously awaiting you in front of the cafe that the two of you were supposed to meet at, in a part of town Spencer hasn't really seen before. You said that you'd lead the way and the irony isn't lost on him.

"Spencer?," Your voice is small, as you call out to what you think is Spencer Reid. Of course, you'd seen him before but to see him in person like this was still so unfamiliar. His head shoots up, eyes searching for you. He's delighted to have found you, certainly that was true as he walks towards you. Your arms envelop him in a friendly hug and he can't help but find himself sinking into. You smelled sweet, like fruit and flowers (which makes sense, the more he thinks about it)

"Lovely to finally meet you, Y/N,"

"Same goes for you, doc. Would you like to be informed of our plans for the day, or do you prefer the element of surprise?," You ask smiling. Spencer laughs at your question.

"Details would be appreciated, but I get the feeling you're not gonna give me those."

"You're right! It's a trick question, since it's a surprise. But, promise it'll be good,"

"I'll take your word for it then," Spencer says with a small smile. You hold your hand out for Spencer which he accepts, locking his hands with yours. The affection makes him feel full of warmth, as you lead him away for the day you had planned for the both of you.

___

Spencer underestimated how well you knew him. He really, really did. It's hard to explain since Spencers been on a date before but this was so profoundly different. He's a little touched, but beyond that he's just.. surprised? Every date he'd been on before this, he'd have to play the gentleman but it never seemed like the other person was interested in just him. It was always casual small-talk over dinner, or a mid-day coffee date or something else that just felt mundane but this was beyond Spencer's imagination.

The first place you took him was a bookstore - which was in Spencers mind already a winner for best date he'd ever been on. You walked inside with him and told him he had to pick up a book for you and you had to pick up a book for him and to say his heart absolutely fluttered would be an understatement. He picked up up a copy of "The Screwtape Tales," by C.S. Lewis for you, and you gave him a copy of Shel Silverstein's "Where The Sidewalk Ends." For you, you got a glimpse to see what Spencer's sense of humor was and you gave Spencer a piece of your childhood. Both equal but opposite forms of intimacy. The only thing was Spencer had to wait to read his book because it's relatively shorter than yours and he reads 20,000 words per minute.

The next place you took Spencer was an indoor butterfly garden. Does he have to explain why that's a good date? He heard you talk about all the scientific names for the different flowers and why they attract butterflies and he wasn't sure he could crush any harder on you if he tried. A particular moment sticks out to him on which a butterfly landed on your shoulders and just stayed there like it didn't want to leave. Spencer's eyes were fixated on it the whole time - and he had never wanted to be a butterfly in his life before but he figures there's a first time for everything.

The last place, where the both of you were at now was just a small coffee shop, locally owned and supported by the community here. You told Spencer that when you started up your shop, you'd come in here to work on big orders before you'd expanded enough to have employees. Spencer admires your work ethic, much more than he could ever anticipate as he sits down at a small booth, totally covering the both of you as you return to the table with a little plate of banana bread and two iced coffees. Spencer pouts as he looks up at you, watching you flash him a grin.

"I could've helped you carry this over," Spencer complains gently. You roll your eyes.

"Maybe next time doc," you say softly. You hold back your commentary often on the date, and Spencer pretends not to notice for your sake but he'd be lying if he said he didn't wanna know. You always had something sly to say but you'd kept it from him so many times now he figures it's better if he didn't ask.

Spencer looks at you as you push a plate of banana bread towards him. He looks at you with curious eyes before reading your clearly excited face and laughs. He picks up a piece and examines it, before taking a bite. If it tasted as good as it smelled then he would be more than obliged.

The involuntary moan that escapes Spencer's throat makes you choke with laughter. Shit, you weren't kidding when you said this was the best banana bread in the city. Spencer just looks up at you like he's about to cry with joy as you double over in giggles.

"I know," You say softly, taking a bite yourself eyes filling with joy "I ordered some more for us to take home - you're welcome," you say with confidence. Spencer smiles because that is genuinely thoughtful, but it was more endearing to see you pretend it wasn't. He just shakes his head, a blush arising to his face as he looks at you. You're staring at him with intent. He quirks his brow at you in question.

"I had a good time today, Spencer" You say warmly. You only called him Spencer when you were saying something affectionate and a bit serious. He gives you a toothy smile.

"I haven't been on very many dates, but this was easily the best one I'd ever been on," Spencer says honestly. You grin ear to ear, hands carefully holding Spencer across the table, running your thumb over his knuckles for a few seconds. You couldn't say for sure whether it was too soon to ask him to be your boyfriend, but you'd be damned if you said it didn't cross your mind.

Spencer was mind-numbingly unaware of what good boyfriend material he was, but beyond that - what good submissive boyfriend material he was. It was driving you nuts, but you knew this was all new for him and you didn't wanna freak him out. Even when guys say they're interested in being submissive, they're still often times uncomfortable with you being fully dominant. Dominant in public and in bed, if you will. You wanted to pay for dates, and buy him flowers, and make him feel special too - at least on the occasion. That role came naturally to you, that let me make you feel owned type affection that only a dominant person can give. It scared men off - out of relationships, and you totally got why - but you liked Spencer too much as a person to risk iit.

Spencer holds your hands together, gathering your attention. You looked at him spaced out and he gives you a look of concern.

"You okay?," Spencer asks. You nod, chewing your lip in debate of whether or not you should express your concerns. Spencer just tugs on your hand and looks at you intently.

You sigh, looking at Spencer softly.

"I'm okay I just really like you," you say a little exasperated. Spencer laughs but is filled with relief.

"I'm glad to hear that. What else is on your mind?,"

"I really like you - like in an, I want you to officially by my boyfriend way and I hope it's not too soon but I'm just, worried I guess," you say nervously. Spencer can't help the way his heart beats in his chest when he hears you say boyfriend. God did he want to be your boyfriend.

"What're you worried about?,"

"I'm worried about freaking you out. I can be a lot since I'm... you know?," You say nervously. Spencer looks at you to continue.

"I'm more than just dominant in bed, and for a lot of guys it's not their thing and that's their right but I like you so much. I really don't want that to happen if I ask you out now and you realize that it's not for you," you say in clear upset.

Spencer looks at you in disbelief. You were worried that he was gonna freak out over that? That you were too dominant for him? It feels like such a silly concern but the expression on your face tells him you're speaking from experience.

"I mean, it's all kinda new to me but, well - I do like how you treat me? It's a nice change, I can't imagine myself getting tired of it, or of you. I really like you too," Spencer tried his best to reassure you without totally embarrassing you. You smiles at Spencer but your face is still full of doubt.

"If that ever changes, I'll tell you but I'd really like to call you my girlfriend," Spencer finishes. You can't help the warmth that spreads in your stomach at the offer. You just nod, looking up at him. You stand and walk to Spencer's side of the booth, sliding in next to him, leaning your head into his shoulder for a few while seconds. You sit back up, and Spencer turns to you.

"Hey, doc," you say softly. Spencer hums in acknowledgement.

"Can I kiss you?," you ask softly. Spencer chews his lip and nods, looking down at your lip. You're wearing lipgloss and it makes them look pretty - you are so pretty to Spencer.

Kisses are their own language, Spencer figures. The way someone kisses you can tell you a lot about who they are - so, when you put your hands on the side of Spencer's face, pulling him closer to you with such care and adoration - Spencer can feel what you were referencing earlier. The word Miss rings out in his mind, the way you pay attention to him with your hands. He feels your lips press against his, slowly gliding your fingers in his hair, thumb brushing agains the side of his cheek. Your other hand rested on his inner thigh and he has to think about anything other than that not to get hard. Spencer didn't get how much he'd been thinking about touching you until you'd do with no hesitation and he lets out a small whine. You pull back and Spencer has to catch his breath.

His lashes blink up at you and you're absolutely beaming.

"You're cute baby,"

Baby? Spencer wants to cover his face when you say it. You kiss him again and he can't help but feel flush.

You were Spencer's girlfriend and then some and he couldn't be more happy.

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #spencer reid oneshot #spencer x y/n #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #Criminal Minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #sub!spencer #sub!spencer reid #so nervous abt uploading this lol

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madamewriterofwrongs · 4 years

Note

ooh for the july prompt list can you do 28 + buddie

For you, darling, anything!

July Prompt List

28. “Just by existing and by letting me speak to you, you give me an immense amount.”

Without Question

“No, no, I’m serious, Eddie.” Buck let his beer slosh over the coffee table as he emphatically pointed at his best friend. He could clean up later; there were more important things happening at the moment. “You, need to get laid.”

On the carpet across from him, Eddie threw his head back in a groan of frustration. “Not this again, Buck, I told you.” He had, in fact, told Buck three times since arriving and subsequently leaving the bar with their friends, but it bared repeating. “I am not interested in hook-ups. I need a relationship – with someone Christopher would approve of.” At least, Eddie hoped that’s what he said (words were a bit fuzzy in his head at the moment). “I don’t need to get laid; I need to get married.”

That seemed to sober Buck just a little, his mouth drooping downwards. “You’re ready to get married again?”

Eddie found himself doing his best impression of that singing bass (weren’t brains funny at 3am?), thinking of the right answer. “No. Yes? Maybe. I hadn’t really thought about it but yeah” he eventually decided. “If I’m going to put myself out there again, it’s going to be with someone I can see a future with.”

“How are you supposed to know that on a first date?” Very good question, Buck. Eddie’s face scrunched in on itself as he sought the answer.

“I don’t know that I know what it would look like to meet that person.” Buck’s eyes were really blue when his face was red from too much alcohol. They were like an ocean in a storm. What?

“Okay.” Buck slammed his bottle onto the coffee table with so much force, it shattered their eardrums but he was already crawling to his feet.

He was halfway into the kitchen when Eddie finally realized that Buck was gone and called out “where did you go?”

Suddenly Buck was back where he started (had he even left?) throwing himself to the ground, now with a pen and a piece of what looked like old mail. “That looks important.”

“This is important-er” Buck insisted, leaning his weight against the edge of the table, giving his full attention to the paper stuffed under his forearm. “We’re going to figure this out.”

“Figure what out?”

Buck rolled his eyes and nearly hit his head on the table in the process. Should they really be doing this now? Well, if not now, then when?

“We’re going to figure out the perfect person for you” he declared with the confidence of a man who would have a splitting headache and a few bruises in the morning.

“You have a rolodex of every person on the planet that we can go through?” Eddie scoffed, taking another ill-advised drink.

Buck stared at Eddie too long for either of them to properly see straight, eyes forced wide before he inevitably fell asleep. “A rolodex? What are you, fifty?” Before he could process Buck’s words, they were moving on. “No, we’re going to write down exactly what you’re looking for in a partner, so that when you do meet someone, you’ll know they’re the one.”

Seemed reasonable enough. Buck was so smart sometimes, but sometimes he was an idiot (like that time he tried to pet a dog after they found it covered in – what they thought at the time was – blood. It turned out to be ketchup from where his owner had collapsed from a heart attack in the middle of making lunch). Buck was probably the dumbest smart person he knew. But in a really smart way.

“Okay.” Eddie leaned forward to match his friend’s position across the coffee table. “What’s first?”

Buck squinted at the paper, waiting for it to reveal its secrets. Just as quickly, he perked up and began to scribble.

“Number one: good looking.”

Eddie scoffed, wiping his spit from the table with his sleeve. “Why is that the first thing on the list?”

“Because” Buck drew out emphatically. “The whole goal is to get you laid. If you don’t find them attractive, then this whole experiment is for not.”

It was Eddie’s turn to roll his eyes so hard he felt dizzy. “Now who’s fifty?”

In lieu of a response, Buck went back to his scribbling. “Number two: they have to love Christopher.”

“That is an absolute must.” Anyone he was with had to love Christopher the way Buck did – with his whole heart. He really was a great person.

“Three: someone who understands your schedule. Being a firefighter is not a 9-5 thing; they have to be prepared for late nights and crazy danger.” Buck’s face twisted as he wrote, into something Eddie recognized as hurt. It took him a little longer to realize why that sadness was marring that pretty face. He slowly reached out a hand to touch his wrist. Buck shouldn’t feel like he was alone, or that Ali leaving was his fault. He deserved to know that there was someone who wanted to be with him – despite the schedules and the dangers. His eyes really were so perfectly blue; even when they were starring at him hopefully. Especially then.

Eddie opened his mouth but nothing came out so he closed it again, hoping the lack of oxygen would help him remember. He didn’t remove his hand right away.

Buck spent the next forty minutes emphatically telling Eddie exactly what his ideal person would be, with Eddie adding commentary here and there to make sure Buck got the wording right (maybe, things were still a bit hazy).

At the end of everything, there were ten items on the list. Ten items for the perfect partner for Eddie. Now all he had to do was find that person. He stared at Buck, proudly handing Eddie the paper for him to tuck into his back pocket, and something of a smile rose to his lips. Finding that person would be the easy part, thought Drunk Eddie. All he had to do was remember the list and even his sober counter-part (as obtuse as he was – excellent word choice, Drunk Eddie) would able to figure it out.

Just to be sure, Eddie waited until Buck stumbled towards the bathroom for the third time, before he retrieved the list from his back pocket and added an eleventh item.

There. Easy as pie.

Thoughts of delicious, sugar-filled pastries, had Eddie stumbling up the stairs to the master bathroom. Why did he think getting drunk at Hen’s birthday party was a good idea? He was not in his twenties anymore. This shit had consequences.

Of course, he expected those consequences to be a massive hangover and some second-hand embarrassment (which he did have). What he wasn’t expecting, was to wake up with his arm around the waist of a half-naked Buck.

Well that was new.

The soft smile on his face as he watched Buck’s even breathing, so calm and safe, was also…not that new. Certainly not one he’d ever experienced while sleeping shirtless in his best friend’s bed, obviously; but being happy that Buck was peaceful and all right was something Eddie experienced on a daily basis.

He carefully pulled his arm away from that – surprisingly soft – abdomen, and rolled onto his back as naturally as he could without waking the other man. If Buck woke up to them cuddling like that, there might need to be a discussion about why he felt so comfortable like that; and morning afters were not the time for existential wanderings.

Not that this was a ‘morning after’. It was the morning after a night of heavy drinking and clearly neither of them were fit to drive, let alone sleep on the couch without hurting themselves. Buck’s bed was big enough for two grown men to rest comfortably (not that they seemed to be using half of the space) so it made sense that they would share.

Yup, perfectly reasonable. Anything else – like his heart beating out of his chest with longing – was just an aftershock of the abhorrent amount of alcohol they’d consumed.

Who thought any of that was a good idea?

Oh right. Christopher was away at camp and Buck had dragged him to Hen’s birthday party; where she’d loudly declared that for one damn night, she wanted to celebrate everything she’d accomplished with her closest friends, consequences be damned. Which, of course, meant that several rounds of tequila shots were ordered in honor of the birthday girl. He vaguely recalled Karen getting exasperatedly drunk beside her wife, which encouraged Eddie to drink his loneliness away. Which seemed to have led back to Buck’s apartment.

There were definitely some dots missing there.

Namely, why he’d let himself sleep in his jeans but not his shirt (in Buck’s bed!).

Before he could even attempt to make connections, the body beside him began to stir, and the peaceful rest on Buck’s face soured into disgruntled pain.

“What died in my mouth?” He chewed on the words as they left his lips, leaving Eddie to dodge a few flailing limbs as Buck returned to the living. A few more scrapes of his tongue against his teeth seemingly had Buck satisfied that he wouldn’t get the taste out of his mouth without help, so he rolled over to check the time on his phone, only to find a body in the way.

“Eddie?” he groaned against the morning light through his window. “What are you doing here?”

The firefighter tried to shake his head but found it only made his stomach protest harder than it had been already. “We are too old to be drinking this much” he hoarsely declared.

Buck’s reply was swallowed by his retreating form as he stumbled towards the bathroom to empty the contents of his bad decision. Eddie let his head fall back against the pillow, the only sounds in the apartment becoming Buck’s retching, and Eddie’s painful decision to forget everything about last night.

Stumbling through the door of his bedroom a few hours later (Buck had insisted on taking him out for a greasy breakfast before dropping him off at home), Eddie had just enough mental energy to toss his clothes vaguely near the hamper before jumping in the shower and then straight to bed. He had never been so grateful for a day off in his life.

Much like the night before, Eddie remembered very little of the day he slept away; those 24 hours became a blip in the string of time that carried no real significance in his life and was happily forgotten.

When doing laundry a few days later, he did find a piece of Buck’s mail folded into the back pocket of his jeans. So, he tossed it onto the ever-growing pile of things on his dining room table colloquially called ‘things that need to be returned to Buck’s eventually’, and thought nothing of it.

It would be another month before Eddie thought about the letter or the night that time forgot.

Hosting random get-togethers for the firefighters and paramedics of the 118 (along with their families, of course) was practically a bi-weekly tradition at this point. Whoever was available would offer their space, and everyone was welcomed in, bringing food and drinks and games. It was one of Eddie’s favourite things about being a part of the 118: the inherent companionship. He had never been a part of anything where it was just assumed that he would have a babysitter, or someone to barbeque for two dozen people in his backyard, or drive him to the hospital when his grandmother broke her hip. No matter what was going on, they could always rely on each other.

He loved the family he’d built at the 118.

So what if he was a little lonely sometimes; he was never alone and that was just as good. Still, maybe it was time for him to put himself out there again. The idea of dating – of random hookups and dead-end dinners – felt exhausting (and not at all what he needed). What else could he do, though?

Luckily, it was his turn to host, so no matter how he was feeling, it would soon be replaced with joy and contentment and laughter. But first, he needed to clean up.

As was tradition, Eddie grabbed the pile of things on his table lovingly titled ‘things that should get back to Buck’s but likely never will’ and shoved them onto his bed until their guests had left for the evening. One of these days, he would remember to tell Buck about all the things of his that had accumulated at the Diaz house over the years (a spare charger, a hat, a few bits of mail he would bring over when he was helping Eddie with tax season – or Eddie was helping him, they weren’t really sure). Small things that might not be missed, but also a spare tooth brush, a pair of sweatpants, and a book he’d only ever seen Buck read at his dining room table while Christopher did his homework.

Maybe he should just get Buck a drawer for his things and then he wouldn’t have to lug it around every time he had company over.

The doorbell rang, sending Eddie sprinting to throw everything onto his bed so he could answer the door in a timely manner.

He loved having a full house. It made everything feel lived in. Sure, he strived to ensure that Christopher’s room (and any room his son spent a lot of time in) was warm and inviting. But there was something about 20 people crammed into the small sections of his house, filling the air with love, that made his house feel like home.

It also meant that there was a mess everywhere. He really didn’t mind it – part of having a big family was accepting that there would be a mess sometimes. With so many little ones running around, however (especially one who wasn’t so steady on his feet), it was best to keep the floors and corners tidy as much as possible.

That was when Eddie noticed a folded-up piece of paper on the floor of the hallway leading to his bedroom. It must have been a some of Buck’s mail that fell when he ran to get the door. An easy enough fix. Curiously, he unfolded the paper for the first time, just to see if it was something important.

Just a flier for some new gym Buck was on the mailing list for. Nothing special.

He turned it over to see the writing on the back, expecting contact info for a trainer or something equally relevant.

1. Someone good looking (you have to want to bone them or it’s all for not don’t make fun of me for using that phrase it’s rude)

He recognized Buck’s messy handwriting straight away. What he couldn’t remember was why he’d written some sort of list on the back.

2. Someone who loves Christopher (obviously that kid is your whole world so he has to be theirs too)

Okay, so this had something to do with Christopher, it probably had something to do with Eddie, too.

3. Someone who understands your schedule/lifestyle (your job is important to you and you need someone who gets that)

Eddie stared at the page, memories of too much tequila and not enough inhibitions flooded back to him.

4. Someone who will make you a priority (you need to make you a priority too you know)

Buck had written him a list of things he should be looking for in a partner, that much he remembered now. The commentary scrawled beside the list, however, was new.

5. Someone kind (you’re so kind you need someone whose just as kind and appreciates your kindness because you’re so kind)

Eddie found himself dragging his feet towards the sounds of people, eyes still glued to the page.

6. Someone smart (not like a doctor or anything but you have to be able to hold a conversation obviously)

He’d laid it out so simply that night; told Eddie exactly the type of person who would make him happy. How could Buck know that?

7. Someone loyal (you deserve someone as loyal as you Eddie you stick by people even when they’re awful jerks who almost screwed up the best thing they ever had)

Eddie couldn’t breathe, head buzzing with the sincerity in Buck’s words, even sloppily written on the back of a flier.

8. Someone who makes you laugh (I wish you could laugh more I like your laugh)

Someone called out to him – maybe the real Buck – but he was trapped in the memories of this world of possibilities.

9. Someone who can read you (not read to you idiot you need someone who knows what your face means because you don’t always say things out loud but you do say a lot)

The new voice was in front of him now, reaching out to him, trying to pull him to the present, but he refused to leave.

10. Someone who makes you feel safe (you make me feel safe)

And there it was; the list of qualities for Eddie’s perfect partner. The person who he could marry – because he remembered telling Buck that he wanted someone he could marry (that’s where the list had originated). It seemed an impossible task to find someone who fit all ten items on the list.

And yet.

Underneath it all, Eddie recognized his own handwriting, as messy as it was. The note he’d written himself so Sober Eddie would remember who it was that fit every criterion.

11. Someone who’ll stay

When he finally found the strength to raise his eyes to meet the real Buck’s, he was breathless all over again. The concern, the absolute care on his face, tipped Eddie over the edge.

“It’s you.”

Buck ducked his head but didn’t physically retreat; he was still so close, all-encompassing – the same way he’d ingratiated himself into the Diaz family long ago.

“What’s me?”

Wordless, Eddie presented the list for Buck to read. He watched the journey of emotions play through like a slideshow from confusion, to embarrassment, to realization, to confusion once again, mixed with painfully unending hope.

“I didn’t mean me when I wrote this.”

How had he not seen it before? How could Eddie have been so blind?

“But I do.” His eyes really were like the ocean, weren’t they. Even sober, he could stare into them forever.

“Marry me?”

Buck’s chest expanded with the weight of Eddie’s question, eyes wide in a disbelief that made him feel giddy; knowing Buck was just as stunned by these turn of events as he was. The fact that neither of them had run away screaming in horror, had to be a good sign.

“What the hell is going on?”

In hindsight, Eddie should have known better than to have his earth-shattering realization in front of their friends and family. Everyone was too nosey for their own good. Just because he’d suddenly proposed to Buck despite the fact that they were not dating.

He’d just proposed to Buck despite the fact that they weren’t dating.

Athena called out to the boys again when neither answered. “Does someone want to clue me in?”

Buck turned back to Eddie, a calm smile on his face – the same peace that he’d had when they were lying in bed together (visions of memorizing his sleeping face filled his hope to the brim).

“Eddie and I are getting married.” Buck spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear, but his announcement was just for Eddie. The only word he had left to describe his beating heart was ‘disbelief’.

He’d just proposed to Buck despite the fact that they weren’t dating. And he’d said yes.

He should be more panicked. He should run away screaming. Ask to take it all back. What the hell was he thinking? Asking his best friend to marry him because of a list that seemed too good to be true. Just because Buck ticked every box that said they were perfect for each other. Just because Buck wanted him back, just as deliriously.

How could he not embrace it all?

The noises that erupted from their family was drowned out by the thrumming of his heart when Buck pulled him in for a kiss punctuated by the infectious laughter bubbling in his chest.

The list floated to the floor as Eddie wrapped both arms around his fiancé (holy shit, he had a fiancé), to be retrieved after everyone had gone home. Buck and Eddie would talk about everything – sit Christopher down with them to make sure he was as happy as he seemed as well – and the list would eventually make its way to their bedside table.

On their first anniversary, Eddie would present it to Buck in a frame, and they would hang it in their bedroom as a reminder of the night their drunken selves figured out what it took them years to discover.

Their perfect partner.

#cj writes things #cj answers things #prompt fill #buddie #buddie fic #911 fox #911 fic #love allie #getting together #love confession #maysgrant

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cactus-joke · 3 years

Note

For all that we're the ones accused of forgetting Loki is a fictional character, it certainly seems others forget that they're arguing with *real people.* I know we're the bad fans, and maximum bad faith is how we interact on the internet these days, but why is mental illness being thrown around like an insult? And if we're so very wrong, why does a lot of the fic being posted characterize Loki exactly how we saw him portrayed in the show? 1/2

A lot of other fans have built a house of headcanons in an attempt at consistency, and that's fine, good even. I actually wish I could do that myself. But the things that you see in the show are not obvious, nor for the most part intended by the creators. (As to why I'm reading fic of a show I disliked, all I wanted was a few Loki vs. predestination fics. Two months on, I doubt I'm going to get any.) 2/2

---

I think it always pays to remember the people aspect of things, especially online, where it feels easier to behave in all sorts of ways. I don't exclude myself from this reminder either.

I've seen mental illness of a varied sort being thrown around, not even necessarily (from their perspective) as an insult, but as a truly strange and self-congratulatory way of saying: see, this is why "these fans" are so unhappy with the show and are overall a bother. I've connected the dots. Yay me.

This is where you no longer have a discussion on a piece of media and have successfully transitioned into personally judging someone who has all the right to disagree with you on your own perceived ideas of their personality and health. There's no way around it: it's rude, condescending, and entirely unnecessary. And, of course, it's a terrible thing to turn into an insult like, in general.

In the end, I believe the problem is just in the lack of, not even in understanding, but in accepting that differing perspectives on the same thing exist. You don't need to convince anyone of anything. Even if you do really really want to for some reason, you certainly won't achieve it by being a fucking dick about it.

Also, yeah, for me, and I wrote about it ages ago, I don't really see a point to filling in for the show to the extent I've seen fans having to do. The show, for me, is way too shallow and I just don't feel like doing the work for them at the moment.

I feel you on the fan-fic side of things, too. I haven't read any for the show so far, but I do think there will be some interesting one's to choose from eventually. I think, for people who hated most if not all aspects of the show, it will take a bit longer to be able to even engage enough to write their takes on it, or on the concepts offered.

#reply #loki series critical #fandom stuff #sw meta

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shhhlikeme · 4 years

Text

“Losty Aone” / “Losty Mountain Man🏔” Series:

Outtake Collection #12:

———————————

A/N: I miss you guys so much! Thank you for over 150 notes on my last outtake 🤯! If you haven’t read my life update already, please do and know that it’s hard for me to prioritize school and work before this blog. This outtake collection was originally supposed to be a multiple posting like the previous ones, but I reckon I was taking too long and thought to just post at least the part that was complete. Love y’all

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Songs for this outtake:

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8 Days After The Breakup ⛓🥀

💤 😴 💤

“Leave her be. She’s having fun.”

Aone watched as the class-snitch Tsume Lian handed in his paper and hurriedly left the classroom.

I didn’t mean to scare him, thought Mountain Man. He shrugged it off, looking down to concentrate on his own assignment, going through the questions easily. I only have 3 left now, and the answers are fairly simple because-

“Hi! Thanks so much for defending me a little while ago!”

An angelic voice startled Aone out of his academic train of thought. As soon as the sound vibrations reached his ear drums all the nerves in Aone’s body stood at attention.

Is that......?! he questioned, but received his answer when he felt the magnetic pull to the voice as he always did—his eyes having a mind of their own and following the sound. Aone felt his heart halt when he lifted his head from his paper to be graced with something much, much, more beautiful. His crush, you, were standing next to him. Aone’s entire body and brain went out of commission when he looked up to see you, standing so close he could feel your body heat, your beautiful manicured hands pressed on his desk. Your grateful eyes were staring into his for quite possibly the first time in his entire life.

The eyes he dreams about.

Your Apple scent invaded his nostrils and Aone breathed in as deeply as he could subconsciously. He never wanted to smell anything else.

The scent that he dreams about.

You reached over to touch Aone’s arm in his uniform, shooting him an endearing smile. Aone’s eyes widened. Y/N IS TOUCHING ME, he thought. His heart tightened and he really thought he was at risk for a heart attack. The only thing that kept him from having that heart attack, in fact, was seeing you smile a second later. He wouldn’t be graced with that smile if he fainted now🥵. To Aone, when you smiled, oh god, when you smiled—You weren’t just beautiful like he always found you: you were unreal. It was your smile on top of the cheerleading pyramid that made him initially lock onto you, and it was your smile with your friends at school that made Mountain Man stop in his tracks every time just to take it in. It is captivating.

Aone couldn’t help but stare at your lips when the vibrations of your melodic cheerful voice reached his ears again.

“I’m Y/N! It’s nice to meet you!”

Nice to.....? What? Losty Aone connected the dots a bit, realizing that you were introducing yourself to him. He wanted to laugh. It is almost a comical quiet-boy-meets-his-crush scene, right? The fact that the female he spends most of his day thinking about, the female outside of the Takanobu’s that he probably knows most about, the female that he has spent the better part of the last two years pining after, was introducing herself—that she deemed it necessary to make him aware of who she is—is comical.

Dark Comedy.

Honestly, Aone couldn’t even stop for too long to feel bad for how pathetic this seemed for him: as he was too busy basking in your light. Whether you were introducing yourself or reciting the Arabic alphabet to him— he’d want to hear you over and over, no matter what, unable to think of anything else he’d want more.

Aone wanted to say something back to you, he obviously did. But he was just too in shock that the girl he wishes he could marry, the girl that is so completely out of his league that she doesn’t even notice his existence, is speaking him unexpectedly. It was like a dream. Aone’s throat was drier than the Sahara desert.

It was TOO MUCH. Your simple greeting made him TOO HAPPY—he was unable to respond.

Aone felt severe loss of sweet tingling skin nerves when you removed your hand from his burning arm. If he was thinking clearly he might have pouted. He mentally kicked himself for being too star-struck by you to dedicate one part of his mind to memorize what it felt like to have you touch him.

“Sorry.”

You said shyly, gifting Aone’s eardrums again. You looked down sheepishly, then met his serious expression again, appearing God-sent with the thankful expression you gave him. If Aone could speak, he would bloody PROPOSE.

“Um....”

Still frozen, Aone couldn’t tear his eyes away from you as you spoke.

“You probably don’t know this but you getting that pervert to leave me alone is quite possibly the sweetest thing anyone has done for me. And you did it for a stranger, no less. And ummm.........”

You tucked your hair cutely behind your ear, obviously wanting to say something else. Aone was eager to hear it. He loved hearing your voice! After all, witnessing your usually bubbly cheerleader-self so demure and cute-looking made his heart skip a beat. Or dozens of beats. All he could think of when he watched you was:

She’s Unreal.

She’s Perfect.

She’s a Dream.

Long shot, but she’s my desired Future wife.

He wanted to beg you to keep speaking. Your voice was his favourite sound... it has been ever since he first heard it.

“Ummmm........ also I wanted to say.....”

Aone put an effort to mentally block out all the white noise of the chatty classroom so that he could hear your beautiful voice more clearly. He wanted to remember this. He wanted to memorize every second of this, since you approaching his desk has unpredictably turned today in to one of the best days of his life. Please keep talking to me Y/N. Please.

Aone’s heart tightened again as your expressive eyes pierced into his serious ones. You took a deep breath before saying what you wanted to say next.

......Yes? Aone wish he could say. You can tell me anything, Y/N.

“....and.....”

you pushed on, leaning in closer so that Aone had an even clearer close up of your gorgeous face and your scent was even stronger. Yep, absolutely the best day of my life.

And......? Aone wanted to hurry you, but then he saw you opening your mouth:

“And do you mind not doing that again? It’s obvious you have a really intense crush on me obviously—but I don’t feel the same way. I don’t even know who you are. It’ll never work out in the long run because I’m in this league and you’re...in that one.”

Aone hearing what you said was like a knife—no, A SWORD stabbing through his heart. He literally felt wounded. He looked at his beautiful crush—still putting you first even in a state of pain like this— feeling terrible for making you uncomfortable due to his romantic hopes.

“I’m s-sorry, Y/N...” Aone was about to stutter out,

💤😴💤

But his eyes opened before then, kicking him out of his dream.

Takanobu’s heart ached as he stared up at his bedroom ceiling in the dark. Aone checked with his hand to make sure that he really hadn’t been stabbed through the chest, because that’s what he felt right now. Breathing heavily through his nose when he felt his actual hard chest there like normal, he wondered how the pain there could be so insufferable then?

Takanobu hasn’t been able to avoid these terrible dreams since several nights ago, when you had broken up with him on the Ferris wheel. He knows you are not as cruel as you are in his dreams but his depressive state of mind obviously only knows how to make him feel worse about everything. He doesn’t really remember much after you had called him your friend in the Ferris Wheel lot; shattering what was left of his heart by that word combined with walking away. Though, he does remember hearing his mom at dinner 2 nights ago talking to him about how it was Futakuchi who had to come get him, but he wasn’t sure.

To be honest, ever since the night on the Ferris Wheel, Aone has become a shell of a man that lost a lot of care for things he used to care about.

He can’t recall what his mom said at dinner or what Kenji said in the car or what really happened the days after you decided to leave him: The only feeling he could register is the overbearing heavy feeling in his heart. The only thing that captured his attention is the aching in his chest. The sound of his heart’s continuous shattering whenever he thought of you was louder than any words he heard and the all encompassing gnawing of heartache, was more tangible than anything else he could possibly feel.

If Aone had to describe in words how he has felt since that moment 🎡 (but he wouldn’t because he has subconsciously retreated back to his mute lifestyle), he would say his heart feels like it is encompassed by the heaviest chains known to man with an anchor on the end, hanging low and weighing down his whole heart.

If that wasn’t bad enough, whenever you crossed his mind, the chains would tighten and squeeze his heart. Therefore, since you basically never left his mind, that means his heart is continuously being squeezed by hefty anchorage. It is an awful feeling to say the least.

Sitting up on the side of his bed, Aone checked his phone for the time and date.

8 days since the anniversary...? He stated to himself.

Had I attended school in between? He doesn’t even remember.

All that was clearly registered is the feeling of loss.

Aone sighed. Must have, because knowing Futakuchi, he likely wouldn’t let him skip. Aone can now recall going to school and not seeing you there....no wonder it’s deemed insignificant in his brain.

When Mountain Man had gotten too worried about your absence on the second day and was about to check on you, his friends had asked your friends, discovering that you were currently sick and on bed rest.

Mountain Man felt terrible. You probably got ill from walking in the snow after the Ferris Wheel ride. If he hadn’t brought you there you wouldn’t be sick. You’d only had on a thin jacket that night...

Should I text Y/N? Ask her if there’s anything I can bring her so she can feel better? What would Futakuchi say?

‘ABSOLUTELY THE FUCK NOT.‘ Is what he would say, Aone thought, practically able to hear his friend’s voice.

In bed, Mountain Man sighed. Even if he did text you, you didn’t want to hear from him anymore. That’s the purpose of a breakup, no matter how much it gutted him. You were entitled to your space.

Through impenetrable mental torment, Aone rubbed his eyes and peeped at the time. While Aone would describe himself as a militant person, who always wakes up on time for school, leaves his house on time for everything; practically the most dependable human, and was very orderly his entire life—things have changed drastically as of 8 days ago. Not that he cared since time wasn’t really something he could focus on, but Aone now awoke several times a night, walked in late to class and cancelled his attendance to any and all social events he was going to go to.

He and Futakuchi were supposed to help Karasuno with blocking yesterday, but Aone just went straight home. He hasn’t even seen his friends for quite some time....or maybe he has, but the memory isn’t registering.

Broken-hearted Mountain Man would just avoid everyone in class (staring out of the window, looking incredibly unapproachable), and outside of class: opting to eat lunch alone (and by eating, it means just toying with whatever he was going to eat). Every lunch hour, this depresssed polar bear would find some corner outdoors to sit by himself: Sometimes it was at the bus stop down the street from the school where he’d sit and watch the passerbyers, his gaze staying a bit longer on the couples that passed by, wishing you still wanted that with him. Yesterday, he found a spot under a big tree and counted the grass patches. Even though you weren’t at school, as soon as the Date Teko cheerleaders came outside to practice a bit for the snowboarding team, Aone picked up his stuff and finished his lunch in an empty classroom...

6:38am.

So Aone had over 20 minutes till he needed to get up and get ready for school.

Usually, this white-haired man would use that time to do something productive: either review his homework, try to make breakfast for his mom or dad, read a book to his turtle, research new volleyball drills to help his team.............

But this morning was different. Of course it was. In the extra time he had this morning, all Aone could do in these minutes is sit up, propping his elbows on his knees and cradle his head in his hands, willing his heart to stop hurting so much. He had zero tears to cry, he isn’t a crier but they were probably all out after the first night that he tear stained his pillow...... So instead of crying, now Aone just spent his extra time in this position, thinking about you—the greatest girl he would ever know—and how he failed to make you happy enough that you’d choose to stay with him.

Aone:

He has no idea why he got his hopes up. Why did he think someone like you would want him? Of course you’d come to your senses eventually.

Faded beautiful black and white images of your moments together flashed through his depressed mind like a movie reel: triggering his heart to weigh his body down even more:

He saw you playing with Perdu on the floor of his room, trying to teach the reptile how to fetch.

He saw you cling onto his arm and hide your face in his shoulder when a jump scare hit the screen at the movie theatre.

In slow motion, He saw you waving and smiling at the supporters in the bleachers as you were cheerleading with your teammates, looking breathtaking

He saw you giving his best friends the middle finger and sticking your tongue out at them because they were teasing him

He saw you throw your head back and laugh as you sat next to him at the lunch table, leaning on him for support because you were laughing so hard

He saw you flip your hair back as you actually listening to his tutoring in his room... then he saw your face brighten, clapping when he told you your answer was correct

He saw you—

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

The sound of Aone’s weekday alarm jolted him out of his heart wrenching slideshow... He rubbed his temples for a moment in his dark room before turning the alarm off. He stood up slowly and took a deep breath before forcing himself to go through the motions again— slipping on his house slippers and making his way to his bathroom. He flicked on the bathroom light and Aone dared to look at himself briefly in the mirror: though what greeted his eyes made him instinctively turn the fucking light off.

Pathetic, anguished Mountain thought.

I look even scarier now. He tore his eyes away from the mirror display of his tired eyes and overall broken demeanour.

No wonder Y/N doesn’t want me.

Hearing your name in his mind for the first time since he had promised himself he wouldn’t mention it, sent a wave of immense devastation through this man’s entire body. It was so strong it caused this middle blocker to hang his head and use both strong hands to grip his bathroom counter so he wouldn’t collapse under the metaphorical pain in his chest.

He never knew it was possible to feel such emotional pain so physically.

He deliberated staying home, but that would worry his parents and friends even more, which is the last thing he wanted.

It’s almost the end of the week. Just keep getting ready for school, he told himself. It is only 4 hours until lunch, when you can be alone again.

Aone brushed his teeth while sitting on the edge of his bathtub, finding it easier to avoid his reflection in the mirror this way. He spat and rinsed, then reached for his floss, but realized it was empty.

Sighing, baby boy dragged his feet from his ensuite to one of his house’s main bathrooms where his mom left the extra toiletries.

Aone began flossing in his quiet bathroom. He heard the faint sound of the front door closing and locking since his mother usually left for work at this time. Takanobu finished flossing and washed his hands. He took a few floss containers and exited the main bathroom, shutting off the light and briskly turning the corner—before running right into another man.

“Shit!” The other voice yelled as their body fell backwards from the impact.

Completely startled because he thought he was home alone, Aone’s eyes widened but his fast reflexes caught the man’s arm before he fell to the ground. Aone’s eyes went back to normal realizing who he caught.

“Dude! Are you a fucking ghost?! You make zero sound when you walk around the house! How is that even possible for a man your size!?!”

Takanobu looked down at his best friend dressed in pyjamas like: ⁉️

Not uttering a word, he gave Kenji a monotone look as to say: What are you doing here?

Kenji—understanding his best friend without him needing to use words like he always did, answered him.

“What am I doing here?” Kenji chuckled. “Well, it’s been days and you won’t answer my texts or calls, big guy! I have no idea where you go during lunch, it’s cold as shit outside and we spend the entire time looking for you.... and then you go straight home when the last bell rings! You seem dead at school: like a zombie. So fuck, you forced my lazy ass to get creative. 💥 Boom. Now I’m here. Your mom said I can move in stay for the time being, basically. I’m sleeping in the first guest room and—“

Aone turned on his heels to peek into the first guest room beside the bathroom. Sure enough, he saw one big suitcase Futakuchi had used when he had come on a vacation with his dads side 4 years ago.

Aone turned back to his friend, grunting as if to say: 🤨 this is a lot....

“—No, it is not a lot. I’m worried about my best friend, man. Either way, I’m not asking you permission.” Kenji crosses his arms in response to his friend’s silent communication. “I told you it’s me and you.”

Aone frowned at his friend. He was pretty astonished by everything Kenji just said. First, Kenji is right about his own self analysis: Kenji is lazy. Which made this all the more alarming, because was Aone really that bad that his best friend felt obligated to move in temporarily?! Futakuchi was always welcome here and stayed over often, but nothing this drastic.

Second, Aone knew he was possibly moving around like a shell of a man—that’s why he avoided people unless it was in class regarding group work—but to be described as a zombie by his brutally honest friend? Ouch. What would Y/N think? Aone doubted you would regret dumping a guy like that if you were in good health and saw him at school.

Hearing your name again in his mind; Aone’s heart panged.

Takanobu’s gaze fell and shoulders sunk and Futakuchi noticed the drop. He knew his middle blocker was going through it like crazy.... and it made him sick. Kenji knew right then and there that he was right to come here.

“I know you don’t want to talk about her, Aone-san. We don’t have to until you’re ready. But I’m here, alright? Just two doors down when you want advice or you just want to watch a movie or play some volleyball. Okay?”

Still looking at his turtle slippers, Aone nodded. In his state, he couldn’t help but feel a bit better because his best friend cared so much about him.

Just then, Aone felt a sharp slap on his back that couldn’t have come from Kenji and an excited voice next to his ear.

“MORNING!!!!!! WHERE CAN I FIND THE FLOSS— OH! BOTH OF YOU ARE AWAKE!”

Koganegawa‘s eyes were barely open as he joined the two boys in the hallway, yawning in the midst of his loud greeting.

Startled that Kogane was in his house too, Aone gave him the same alarmed expression he’d initially given Futakuchi.

Kanji looked confused, so he nudged Futakuchi. “I’m not as good as you yet, dad. What does that look on Aone-senpai mean?” He asked, stretching his arms in fatigue.

In response, Kenji reached up to pinch his ear, yanking it down.

“OI! ITAI!” The setter cried.

Kenji spoke calmly.

“Takanobu-san is wondering what you’re doing here. And I’m wondering why you’re so loud in the mornings!!” Futakuchi let go and Kogane rubbed his now red ear, fully awake now. He glared at Kenji for a moment😡before his eyes met the middle blocker’s and softened.

“Hey, Mom. That abusive parent 👈🏻 mentioned something about staying here for a few days or weeks, and I begged him to let me come. I worry about you, too, you’re like a big brother to me, and I’m here for you just as much as he is.” Kanji smiled brightly at his older friend.

For the first time since you’d broken up with him, Aone felt his heart tighten for a different reason other than heartache. For one brief moment, Aone felt a few links in the heavy chain wrapped around his heart fall off. Albeit minimally, his friend’s endearing actions made him feel lighter.

————————————

Outtake #13: CLICK HERE

Sneak Preview of the next dramatic Outtakes:

A pissed off Kenji Futakuchi confronts Y/N upon your return to school 👁👄👁

Aone and Y/N must work together for a school project....... 💔 awkward, or an opportunity? The answer may surprise you.

Taglist: @crushzone @galagcica @chaichai-the-weeb @nairobiisqueen @bisasterrr @juminly @simply-not-the-same

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twopoppies · 4 years

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hey gina! i wanted to ask you if you know any good deaf hl fics? or hl with any other disabilities? thanks xx

Hi love. That’s definitely a category where I’m lacking fics to recommend. But here are some fics that I think are wonderful where either Harry or Louis are disabled in some way

Even on My Worst Days by @homosociallyyours (E, 22K) Soft, tender, warm and so well written. This author really captures the reality of chronic illness without ever making Harry seem helpless or a victim. Louis is just so loving and understanding in all of the best ways.

wake the morn and greet the dawn (with hearts entwined and free) by mixedfandomfics (T, 21K) I cried the first third of the way through this because this author painted such a beautiful picture of Harry’s emotions, his found family, and the setting. I love how they slowly unraveled Louis’ story and the tender, sweet way they ended up together. And Niall!! The best friend/brother you could ask for. Harry is an amputee in this one.

you're writing lines about me by snazzyasalways (T, 4K) This is gorgeously written on that Dreamy, poetic style I happen to love. Louis is a blind poet, Harry is a baker, Harry falls in love with Louis’ words, then with him.

We’re What’s Right In This World by BriaMaria / @briannamarguerite (E, 49K) This is one of my favorite authors – they do such a good job with pacing a story and writing compelling characters. This time they give us soldier Harry and blind Louis during WWII and everything that comes along with that time period and their circumstances. It’s heartbreaking, redemptive, beautifully written, and made me cry. A lot.

Seeing Blind by zedi (E, 47K) I really liked the way this author gave a twist to both Omega Harry and Alpha Louis’ characteristics. It’s a whole lot of smut and miscommunication and, of course, a happy ending.

Quiet People Have The Loudest Minds by @2tiedships2 (M, 38K) Louis is mute in this one and it was really sweet and tender and a great twist on ABO dynamics. Plus, one of the few Alpha Harry characterizations I’ve enjoyed.

This one, where Louis once again is mute, was recommended by @metal-eye whose taste in fic is usually in line with mine. So, even though I haven’t read it…

And I’ll Be Here When Only The Silence Remains by louisniall (E, 18K)

The one where Louis is a top notch mute violinist and Harry might just be the person he trusts most.

Because those are the only ones I know, I asked a deaf friend of mine to suggest her favorites. These are her recommendations and comments:

Honestly, I don’t know many. So many people write deaf characters into fics but they don’t really know what that means or try to take the time to understand that. This is my favorite though –– in it louis is experiencing hearing loss? It’s canon compliment and due to all the loud noises I think I remember? It’s been ages since I read it but he tries to hide it at first.

Let the Words Fall Out by pertunes (GA, 7K)

It’s not a thing, he decides. It’s not going to be a thing, because his ears have been ringing for months and so what if some days he feels like he’s straining to hear what even Niall’s jabbering on about.

And I think this is a good one. Harry’s deaf in it and Louis is in 1D

Two Hearts Drawn Together by ChelseaFrew (E, 46K)

Louis Tomlinson is 1/3 of a world-famous boy band. Harry Styles is a deaf university student. When they meet each other at a book signing, they experience an instant connection. They soon discover, however, that bridging the divide of their differences is easier said than done.

Jumble of Dots by Idzzdi (T, 9K) Ok so this first one features Blind Louis and is an absolute favorite because it doesn’t do what so many fics do and turn him into someone in need of saving due to his disability or someone that needs help with every little thing simply because he can’t see. He’s without one of his senses but he doesn’t let that deter him at all and he’s determined to live his life to the absolute fillies, much to the amazement (and horror) of everyone who loves him

Heart Eyes by Snowy38 (E, 10K) Featuring blind Harry bidding off his virginity in an online auction in order to make Louis jealous and to get him to finally make a move (hopefully!)

A Lack of Understanding by orphan_account (M, 3K) Harry has selective mutism but that’s never mattered to Louis. He’s never had a problem understanding him. (Just really short and sweet fic and does such a stellar job describing emotion and body language and other ways people communicate that aren’t always verbal it was fantastic)

You Came Just Like A Flower In My Darkest Hour by graceling_in_a_suit / @graceling-in-a-suit (T, 44K)

Harry had spent a thousand years as the king of a false kingdom, no one but his empty-minded subjects to distract him from his loneliness. Then, he saw a stranger in a mirror to another world. He was exquisite, this stranger; Harry wanted nothing more than to know him, if only he could be free from the spell that kept him trapped. But even once his wish had been granted (at the cost of his voice), and he’d gotten to live in the stranger’s world and in his house and in his heart, the spell would not be so easily broken.

It feels different when you’re with me by RearviewDreamer (M, 44K) This fic does a really good job describing Deaf Culture and sign language and having Louis transition from the hearing world to the Deaf world without him falling apart or not wanting to exist any longer and I think that was such an important thing that they did. And also, ALSO, Louis’ name sign??? I just loved Louis’ name sign because it’s the same name sign I use for him so I’m still flailing)

Infinity in Always by orphan_account (M, 23K)

A stranger greets Louis whenever he looks in a mirror—a stranger with sunken eyes, sharp cheekbones and hollow cheeks, whose strands of mousy hair tangle into intricate knots; curl into something akin to a broken halo.

Every morning he recites, speaks to no one but himself so he could try and remember that, “This is me. This is how I look like.” The simple act is done so often that it has become more like a ritual than a routine; and even then it’s only part of what he must do the second moonlight dies and day breathes again.

#larry fic rec #disabled HL #blind aus #deaf aus #chronic illness aus

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theparanormalperiodical · 3 years

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The REAL Story Behind The Omen (1976) And The 7 Most Terrifying Omens You Should Definitely Know About

You don't get much irony in horror.

You get buckets of fake blood, you get lashings of sexism with subtle notes of transphobia, and you have dozens of plot holes to get twisted up in. But The Omen (1976) in a very dark, very deathy way, was ironic.

Somehow a film about the rise of the Antichrist - AKA the end of the world - would be accompanied by wild animal attacks, sudden deaths, and even a decapitation. Yep, The Omen was, well, an omen. In fact, this cult classic horror flick is known as one of the most cursed films to date as a result of the story put to the screen and the events that took place behind it.

But the infamous tales surrounding this movie is not the only time an omen has preceded horrific events. In fact, we've been searching for signs of what is to come for millennia. Some of these signs still haunt our darkest nightmares.

You need to look out for them.

Today we will be determining just how accurate the portrayal of The Omen is to the prophecies of the Antichrist, the spooky events that took place behind the camera, and any other signs of death or misfortune you should be wary of.

*crow caws in the distance*

First, let's recap The Omen

The Bible is undoubtedly the best-selling book of all time. And, just like many other chart-topping hits, it’s been turned into a whole host of films. Each has suffered its own onslaught of criticism for its unique take on scripture.

The Omen is one of them.

But The Omen doesn’t follow Jesus’ life story, nor does it CGI various jungle animals onto Noah’s ark. It follows the Antichrist from birth to demise across 3 films (including a made-for-TV Canadian movie which we’ve all agreed to not talk about). It charts the rise of Damien as he develops his paranormal powers and loosely fulfils the prophecies set out for the Devil’s spawn.

Our story starts at his mysterious birth: after a woman has a stillborn child, her husband swaps it for a child whose mother died at birth. When Damien is just 5 years old strange things begin to occur. Animals act strangely around him, various aggressive dogs appear - oh, and Damien’s nanny rudely interrupts his birthday party by throwing herself out of a window with a noose around her neck.

Enter a new nanny who is less Mary Poppins and more Mary Most-definitely-a-satanist-who-wants-to-protect-Damien-and-overthrow-Christ. Things get worse (yes, it’s possible) when everyone around Damien begins to slowly work out that he may or may not be the Antichrist and in turn get killed in assorted horrific - but also mildly hysterical - ways.

It’s the father of Damien (the adoptive one, not the actual Devil) who leads the investigation into his origins. He traces back Damien’s origins back to his dead mother’s grave. Turns out she was a jackal.

Enter the Antichrist expert - he gives Damien’s father the low-down on dealing with demonic children, and explains that the naughty-step is simply not enough. He has to be killed on hallowed ground with a collection of knives I’m pretty sure I saw on Antiques Roadshow. He takes the Daggers of Megiddo and his infant son into a local church, forces him onto the altar and prepares to kill him.

The police shoot him before he can do this.

The following films chase up the rest of Damien’s short but eventful life and include: one sex scene, one King Herod-inspired ‘kill all babies born on this day cause one of ‘em is Jesus’, and even a last minute cameo by Christ himself.

Unlike most horror franchises, however, The Omen is not based on some paranormal investigation or a forgotten urban legend - the story inspiring it is kept very close to the hearts of many around the world. It’s this troubling premise which makes this film one of the most terrifying to date. Question is, just how accurate is The Omen to the actual end of days forecasted by Christians?

How accurate was The Omen to actual prophecies regarding the Antichrist?

Like most things mentioned in The Bible and other religious texts, things are typically vague or lost in translation. This means many concepts and stories have been rewritten and rethought in numerous different ways.

The Omen kinda had to connect the dots.

But there are a few defining features of Damien and his life story which are uncomfortably close to what might just be the apocalypse…

First, the Antichrist is supposed to be born as the opposite of Christ: he is not born of God and a virgin, but of Satan and a ‘whore’. Whilst The Omen appears to be slut-shaming a jackal, we do know Damien is the spawn of Satan. His animal mother (which is referenced later in the franchise when Damien is discovered to have Jackal bone marrow cells) is a reference to Jackals’ biblical presence as tricksters.

The Omen also sticks to the dominant line of thought on Damien’s career path. The Antichrist is mentioned 3 times in the New Testament and follows the end of the world, something we see in the dying moments of the final film: the Book of Revelation and other prophetic texts claim he will rule for 7 years before being defeated by Christ/Angel Gabriel’s army. He will be a tyrant, a trickster, rise to power, and (perhaps) claim he is a messiah.

The Omen is an abridged version of this. Damien is at one point a CEO and then an ambassador to the US before he sees an image of Christ when he gives out his last breath.

But here’s the thing.

Everyone has a different take on how the Antichrist will take his first steps to almighty power before being dethroned by the JC. And everyone has a different take on who it is.

Donald Trump, Hillary Clinton, the Pope (I’m pretty sure all of the popes have been accused of being the Antichrist), Prince William… Type in a celebrity name - literally any celebrity name - and the word ‘antichrist’ into Google and there will be “proof” of Kate Hudson using satanic subliminal messaging in How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days. By all accounts The Omen is just another version of how the Antichrist could rise and fall.

The Omen does include a few other suitably-satanic references: the Daggers of Megiddo don’t actually exist according to lore, but are associated with the end of the world. Megiddo is the site of the final battle between the Antichrist and Jesus Christ as mentioned in the Book of Revelation. Its Greek name was even ‘Armageddon’.

We also see throughout the franchise a satanist plot to ensure the Antichrist grows up safely and is ready to do his dark bidding. Modern theorists claim the Antichrist will arrive hand-in-hand with a satanic plot to overturn the Christian faith.

The Omen effectively charts out how the world might end. But for many people working on the film, they were experiencing hell in their own way.

What really happened on the set of The Omen?

An omen is defined as a phenomenon that predicts and hints at the future, or signals a change. The birth and rise of the Antichrist probably fits the definition as it signals the Second Coming of Christ, Judgement Day, and numerous other events anticipated by Christians across the globe. It is an omen for the end of the world.

Hell, it’s the ultimate omen. It doesn’t get more omen-ny than that.

But in some weird omen-ception, The Omen was an omen for the people producing the film. *squints in confusion*

Basics, it is now known as one of the most cursed movie sets ever. And here’s why.

Gregory Peck, the father of Damien, allegedly canceled his seat on a flight that would crash and kill everyone on board. When he did finally get on a plane and flew to England his plane was struck by lightning. The film’s writer experienced the same thing on a separate flight days after Peck’s.

The producers and some actors also nearly attended a restaurant one evening when it was destroyed in an explosion. One of these same producers, Mace Neufeld, also happened to check out early from a hotel in London which was blown up by the IRA shortly after.

The special effects designer witnessed traumatic events mirroring the movie far too closely, too: his wife was decapitated in a car crash, a similar event to one we see in the film. Even an animal trainer used for a scene from which Baboons act wildly and crazed around Damien was killed after being mauled by a tiger.

Yeah.

It’s all very ommeny.

But what are the other omens you should be looking out for?

The 7 omens you should most definitely be watching out for

#1 - Crows

All films or TV shows that feature death or war also feature crows. Their fateful cawing has historically been an omen of misfortune or death and is used for foreshadowing as obvious as the colour black. A single crow is an omen of bad luck - a murder of crows (more than five) is an omen of death or illness for either you or someone you know.

In ancient times birds were common omens and it was the type of bird which signaled different positive and negative changes. Crows in particular were believed to be messengers between the mortal world and the afterlife. Witches were also believed to use crows to cast their death spells.

They have since gained a reputation for being cunning and intelligent creatures, much like the jackal mother of Damien in The Omen.

#2 - Owls

I told you - we are convinced birds bring death.

Much like crows, owls are very deathy. Walking under a tree and hear an owl hoot? You or a family member are gon’ die. One lands on your roof? Death is a-coming.

Owls are even historically believed to herald doom with one Roman Emperor - Antonius - dying after an owl was seen perched above his bedroom door. They are considered wise creatures according to ancient civilisations, as if they know something about the future we do not.

The Welsh, on the other hand, believed they bring fertility. If an owl hoot is heard by a pregnant woman she will have an easy labour.

#3 - Doppelgangers

According to German and Irish folklore, seeing an ‘exact replica’ of you born to different parents is a sign of your death. If your family members or your friends see one, beware of impending danger.

These ‘double-goers’ are considered evil twins in folklore. If you spoke to your doppelganger, they’d try and trick you and plan evil ideas in your mind.

Breton and Cornish folklore claim they are Ankou, servants of death himself who thus personify it.

#4 - Death Knocks Thrice

Let’s set the scene: you’ve just ordered a Nandos and you hear the knock at the door. But instead of a halloumi-topped beanie burger, you open the front door to no one.

Rather than a delicious meal you will soon experience death.

Irish, Scottish, and Native American communities follow this folklore and it is referenced in many different films including The Conjuring. The Perron family hear continuous knocking which comes in threes - the Warrens, however, claim it is a demonic entity or spirit mocking the holy trinity.

#5 - Phantom funerals

Funerals normally come after the omen of death, you know, when the actual ‘death’ part has occurred. But fake funerals led by ghosts are an omen of the death of a loved one. They will take the same place and same route of the actual funeral, however.

If you do see one, however, don’t look into the casket; otherwise, it’ll be your own.

(Dun dun duuuh)

It is believed they are sent by fairies who are infamous for causing mischief. A similar phenomenon, ‘the tolaeth before the coffin’, is when one hears the coffin making process or the funeral take place.

#6 - Solar eclipses

We now have the benefit of science and astrology to tell us that sometimes it gets really dark and really cold in the middle of the day. But way back when, the sun effectively disappearing for a few moments was rather more terrifying.

Ancient civilisations believed it was a warning from pissed off gods that they were going to exact some revenge and send some impending danger or death. Most cultures even believed a folkloric beast or native animal was eating the sun. In fact, that’s why many communities would bang pots or pans together during eclipses to scare away the demon doing it.

They are still considered a mysterious sign something bad is about to go down.

#7 - Black butterflies

We end on an omen I’m probably going to incorporate into my aesthetic for 2021. A black butterfly is considered to be a symbol of misfortune and death in some cultures and a positive sign for others. It could also equate to a less lethal ‘death’ - that is the death of a relationship or a project.

It can thus be considered an omen of renewal or rebirth. And lord knows we all need that for next year.

Have you ever seen an omen?

Let me know in a comment below.

If you liked this post make sure you like, reblog, and then hit follow. I post a new article on the paranormal every Saturday and a new ghost story everyday!

*flies away with the black butterflies*

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

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Survey #330

“and i don't want ya / and i don't need ya / don't bother to resist, or i'll beat ya / it's not your fault that you're always wrong / the weak ones are there to justify the strong”

If you have a job, do you like it? I'm unemployed. Do you like any kinds of fruit? Well of course. Are you waiting for something right now? Covid and this headache to fuck off, May for my tattoo, to be paid to take some pictures again... What is your favorite kind of animal? Kind, not the actual animal itself? In that case, social species, usually mammals. What kind of Dippin' Dots do you like? Holy shit, I haven't had that in like a damn decade or something. I don't know, I barely remember the taste. Who is the most badass woman that you can think of? My mom. My mother is a fucking warrior. Do you have a Pinterest account? Yeah. I get a lot of photography ideas from there, as well as base pictures to make Mark icons, haha. If you were to write a book, what would it be about? The stories I and my friends have weaved in RP. Have you ever seen the television show The Munsters? AHHHHH YES!!!!! Mom loves that show, so I used to watch it with her growing up. Have you ever written one of those 'Roses are red...' valentines? I don't think so. Would you/have you spent more than $200 on any one person for a holiday? I haven't, but I would for certain people. Do you have a favorite Robin Williams movie? Probably Night at the Museum. Thoughts on Slender Man? Have you even heard of him? I think it's a cool creepypasta; he does look pretty unnerving with his height and especially lack of a face. The movie was good too, btw. Do you know what the Tardis is? I think almost everyone does in this generation, haha. Doctor Who ain't no joke to a whole lot of people. Are there any children's shows that you'd watch today if they were on? Sure, like Pokemon or Avatar: The Last Airbender, among others. I wouldn't at all be opposed to watching The Lion Guard, either. I actually want to, with my whole TLK love. I'm not embarrassed to watch "kids" shows or movies at all. What would you call yourself the King or Queen of? Having not an ounce of knowledge on how to love things in moderation/avoid total obsession with things, haha. If I paid for you to take karate lessons, would you? No, especially not now with my legs. Do you read more fiction or non-fiction? Almost solely fiction. What modern technology are you especially grateful for? Laptops, ig. Do you have a favorite science topic? Genetics. Very fascinating stuff. Have you ever read any Sherlock Holmes stories? No. What is the saddest movie that you've ever seen? Either Johnny Got His Gun or Boy in the Striped Pajamas. What's your most popular post? On what? If Facebook, I don't really know. Possibly my "coming out" one or a lovey-dovey essay when Sara and I were together. On Tumblr, it's definitely the gif I made of Mark and Chica (his dog) with I think over 10k notes. Manga or anime? Anime. I don't read manga, though I've been tempted with Deadman Wonderland since the show only had one season and ends on a ginormous cliffhanger, but there's more story to be had. A card game that you're good at? None, really. A popular book you haven't read yet? To Kill a Mockingbird. I feel like every school student has read it at some point. Favorite Mean Girls quote? I don't know any. It's a fine movie, but I've never understood the hype. Name your top 3 albums from your favorite band/artist. Black Rain, Ozzmosis, and... then I can't choose. I love so, so many very dearly. Name your top 5 music videos. I don't really watch music videos, so I definitely can't name five. My #1 favorite is probably "Wrong Side of Heaven" by Five Finger Death Punch; I absolutely cannot watch it without crying. What are you most passionate about? How did this passion develop? Animals. I was born simply adoring animals and have always wanted to protect them and their environment. Do you like monkeys? Do you believe in evolution? Yes and yes. We've literally watched it in action. What embarrasses you the most in front of other people? Discussing RP if you're not involved in it. I'm terrified of people thinking I'm weird. Have you considered running for president? Absolutely not. Which famous person would you like to be BFFs with? I'd say Mark, but I'd be way too interested in dating him instead of being just friends, haha... So with that said, maybe Bindi Irwin? Would you ever go skinny dipping with the last person who commented you? Lyndsey would be that person, so no. She's a great friend of mine, but realistically I'd probably only ever - if ever - do that with the company of my s/o. Are you still friends with the last person who broke your trust? No. How long did your last relationship last? Around two years. Have you ever been banned from anywhere? Online, yes, as a little kid on the Animal Planet forum, haha... Has anyone kissed you when you weren't expecting it? Yeah, Juan. Did you like it? It was a sweet moment, but I didn't want it. Does your dad smoke? Like a chimney. Is your mom over 50? Yeah. Are you currently listening to anything? Yeah, kinda hooked on "The Horrible People" by Manson. I've found a lot of great music lately. Would you ever consider getting breast implants? No, but once (if...) I lose all the weight I want, it's going to be a moderate priority to get a breast lift. I've hated my body way too fucking long and am dying to be satisfied with it again, and with how much weight I need to lose, I would essentially have grandma tits. :x Do you know anyone who is bisexual? Me, haha. Among some friends. Who would you tell, or who did you tell when you lost your virginity? That's not something I'd just go to tell someone afterwards for no reason... I'd only ever mention having lost my virginity if I was actually asked or if it was relevant to a conversation. Is there something you have been trying to learn lately? I'm really trying to practice opposite action and behavioral activation, among other things I've learned in group therapy. When you think about your future career, do you envision yourself becoming the head honcho or CEO? If not, why not? Well, I want to be my own boss as a freelance photographer. In any other job, I definitely wouldn't want that. Too much responsibility and leadership skills. Can you think of a time when you seriously misjudged a music artist based on their name? I don't think so? Have you ever kissed someone that you didn’t really want to kiss (not assault, just indifference)? Why did you go along with it and how did you feel after? Yes, Tyler. I felt like I was "supposed to." I felt really uncomfortable afterwards. If you have to wake up early for something, what time is just TOO early for you to be there and be presentable and sentient? Have you ever had to be somewhere that early? Probably like, 5:00. No. Have the majority of your romantic relationships started with a physical attraction or a deeper connection? Always an emotional connection. Did you ever write a fan letter to a celebrity? How about submit something to a magazine? No to both. What hair color is the most attractive on the opposite sex? Of natural colors, black, but I like unnaturally dyed hair most. Where do you like to go to when you are stressed? On a carride, so long as I'm controlling the music nice and loud and not talking. Where do you go to get your hair cut/dyed? To a family friend's little salon/small business. Why do you want the career that you want? Because I adore art and think it's pretty darn magical that you can freeze a moment forever to not just remember in your head, but actually see. Have you ever watched iCarly? Yeah, I enjoyed it when I was younger. What was your favorite class during your sophomore year of high school? Art. Do you wear bandanas in your hair? No. Have you ever been on a blind date? No, not interested. How many living grandparents do you still have? None. Have you ever worked in an office? No. Who does the grocery shopping in your house? Mom. Have you ever stayed in a hotel without your parents or older relatives? No. Did you have an Easy-Bake oven when you were little? Sure did. Have you ever seen a donkey? Yeah. Have you ever made out in a hot tub? Pretty sure no. Do you always flush the toilet after you use it? Yes. What were the last words you said to your dad? Probably "bye, love you." Have you cuddled with someone you weren’t dating? Nah. Who has the ability to hurt you the most emotionally? JASON. Are you a really understanding person? Yeah, very. Are you the type of person that enjoys getting hugs? Yes. When’s the last time you wore a wig? For a witch costume many years ago. Why were you last hospitalized? Suicide attempt. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without food? At least 12 hours, but I think I almost went a day once back when recovery started and my appetite was non-existent. What was the last name of your third grade teacher? Mrs. Britt. How was the last chicken you ate cooked? They were chicken tenders. What is your favorite kind of chip? Hot crunchy Cheetos. What grade did you have your first boyfriend? 7th. Have you ever been told that you’ve lost weight? Yeah, back when I actually WAS losing loads of weight. >> Do you have the same political views as your parents? Some things, but definitely not all. Does anyone call you babe/baby? No. Have you ever made a significant other cry? Sadly. If you could make your lips bigger, would you? Maybe just a teeeeny bit. Are you one to sneak food into movie theaters? Yep. Fuck them prices. Are you prone to illness? Definitely not. What races do you usually date? History says Caucasian, but I have no actual preference. I'll date any race. What’s your cup size? C. Ever flirted with a teacher? Yikes, no thanks. Who was the main cook of your Thanksgiving meal last year? My older sister made the most stuff. Have you ever been dumped really harshly? Well, considering it literally traumatized me... Do you have any ex’s you can’t stand anymore? No. Are you more of a phone or a computer person? Computer, definitely. When was the last time you made a sandwich? What did you put on it? Yesterday for lunch. Ham, American cheese, and mustard. Have you ever made friends with someone that you didn’t expect to get along with? Yeah. Do you own any accessories with your name on? No. What brand of eyeliner do you use? I pay no attention to this. Have you ever been sexually harassed? No. Have you ever sent a naughty text message? Suggestive ones, yes. How long have you had your pets? Roman, around two years. Venus, around three or four years. Who was the last person to tell you that they love you, other than family? Sara. Has one of your friends ever tried to hook you up with someone? Colleen tried obnoxiously hard to push Girt and me together. We all went out to eat pizza once just as friends hanging out, and this bitch prefaced an uncomfortable and nosy question to him with an even more uncomfortable "because I'm trying to get you in her pants...", and that, my friends, was the closest occasion I've ever come to slapping someone right across the face. I looked at her in absolute disgust, and Girt was clearly thinking "what the actual fuck" as well. I do not miss her feral mouth. Are you good at staring contests? No. Eye contact is very difficult for me to maintain. Do you like peanut butter? I love peanut butter. When was the last time you had to present something to your class? In this mandatory but entirely pointless entry class at my last college, we all had to do like this PowerPoint introducing ourselves. I hated it. Who was the last person that told you they missed you? I think my friend Chelsea. What store is your favorite shirt from? It's not a real store, but rather an online brand: Cloak. Mark is one of the owners/creators so I obviously support them intensely. Have you ever fell off your bed while you were sleeping? No, thankfully. Do you have something you’re supposed to tell someone, but you haven’t yet? No. What type of food do you never really eat? Vegetables, oops. Have you ever cut someone else’s hair? No. Do you like going to weddings? Not really, if I'm being honest. I'm only interested in photographing weddings for the only the couple pictures and pay, really. I'm not big on formal events. What’s your favorite flavor squash? I don’t like squash. Do you or anyone in your house have a severe allergy? No. Who was the last guest in your house and what were they staying for? Our landlord/family friend, just to hang out for a little bit and chat with Mom. What fad were you actually into? Hm. What was the last spontaneous thing you did? I'm not a very spontaneous person, so I really don't know.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''the beautiful people'' by marilyn manson

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stomachflu · 4 years

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a bit of rambling about Why I Have This Kink, under the cut for length + discussion of sexual stuff. please don’t rb this, i’ll talk about it, but i don’t really want it spreading all over.

this is really, really, REALLY long. I don't even feel safe writing about kink stuff in my own physical diary, so, here, read like 2k about my life if you wanna.

the other week i saw someone make a “is this a ___” meme, where the bird was “h/c” and the text read “is this a substitute for being cared for and loved?”. you know the one. don’t make me recreate it.

anyways, it got me thinking a bit, at first about a comment thread i recall participating in... idk, on livejournal, circa 2010 or so? though it could’ve also been on a dreamwidth community; i was active on both. anyways, it was in a thread about h/c. one comment said that the person liked reading about h/c because their parents had been pretty strict and neglectful when they were growing up, and the only time they were shown affection is when they were sick. another person replied to that comment and agreed, saying that they had a similar upbringing, except that their parents didn’t even pay attention when they were sick, so they enjoyed h/c because it let them fantasize about being the center of attention for a bit.

i still remember that conversation to this day, because it really resonated with me. like many other people, my parents also didn’t treat me well when i was sick. they were very strict about stuff like school, and would send me there with a 102 degree fever, loaded up on Tylenol. stuff like whining about not feeling good wasn’t tolerated.

(i’ve seen quite a few bloggers talk about how, as a kid, they used to be afraid of illness/injury scenes in media, and i was no exception. if, for example, a character on a tv show got a cold, i would run to the other side of the house as quickly as possible and put my fingers in my ears. i wasn’t a squeamish kid; i wanted to be a doctor and pretty much everybody knew that i was interested in characters getting sick or hurt. a lot of people say that, for them, it was due to the shame and embarrassment of knowing that they enjoyed watching characters suffer. for me, that was... sort of it? but also, i was embarrassed for the characters. being miserable from something like a cold wasn’t allowed in my house, so i felt like... weirdly bad for them, but also bad about enjoying something that i wasn’t allowed to experience or enjoy myself, and also because i knew it wasn’t a normal interest.)

anyways. i don’t think it was a coincidence that the only times i was ever allowed to stay home from school were when i had thrown up. like i said above, any other illness or injury was an automatic “do not pass go, go straight to school”, but, for some reason, if i had vomited even once, my mom would let me stay home.

i think at this point i should mention that, when i was like... 6-10? ish? my brother got very, very sick. i’m talking, “going to the hospital every week for infusions” sick. as a kid, it was very alien for me to go from being told that a sore throat didn’t “count” at home, to tagging along to my brother’s appointments and seeing the doctors get really concerned if he had a sore throat, making a huge deal out of the tiniest illness symptoms. (and for good reason! a cold really could’ve made him sick at that point.) anyways, i think that that’s another point on the “developing an interest in h/c” scale for me.

he got special treatment i could never even DREAM of. in school, he was allowed to wander around and do whatever he wanted, because he often felt sick and had to go on a walk to feel better, and he was allowed to bring hard candy and chocolate into the classroom, because he had sores in his mouth that only felt better if he had another texture to focus on. all of this was, like, 100% justified – he was really, REALLY sick, and i didn’t fully realize it at the time. he’s a great brother.

but more often than not, he was staying home at school, being cared for by my mom. it’s not a coincidence that the only way i could experience the way he was cared for – lap trays, eating in front of the TV, cold washcloths, even just being told, “i’m sorry you’re not feeling good” – was if i’d thrown up.

to me, “throwing up” became The Worst Symptom. i used to make up imaginary universes of characters who only existed to get sick or hurt and go to the hospital (in my mind, A Place Where People Cared About You And Always Made You Feel Better). i would have them go through every single illness symptom, no matter how plausible, and it would culminate with them vomiting, because, for me, that was the One True Thing that showed that they were really, actually sick.

so... nearly 1k into this post, What Does That Have To Do With Me Having A Kink? dude, i don’t fuckin’ know.

okay. maybe i do, a bit?

ANOTHER weird thing i used to do (and still do!) is like... save certain things for when i was gonna enjoy them the most? for example, if i had a snack or dessert, i would grab a book to read as i ate, so it would be more enjoyable. i was a very inattentive kid, but i would NOT daydream about my h/c scenarios in class, especially if i had something “good” planned, because i wanted to save it for when i got home, and then i’d daydream as i ate.

okay. we get a bit tmi & nsfw here.

i don’t wanna talk about this bit TOO TOO much, but due to, like, depression & medication and stuff, i was a very late bloomer. but when i did, uh, start masturbating, i didn’t... really connect it to any thoughts, i just realized it felt good. so i did what i always did when i was doing something pleasurable, and daydreamed about my characters “during.” and since all i daydreamed about was h/c scenarios (yes, even, like, YEARS LATER), it would culminate with the characters vomiting.

probably also something to be said about the fact that a big part of the way i was being punished for being sick as a kid was that, like, nobody would love me if i was whiny and gross like this. the thought that not only someone would love me BUT that they would find me attractive while i’m sick? is really [chef’s kiss]

anyways. there’s probably a lot to be said about like, stuff other people have pointed out, like how the buildup of nausea is similar to the buildup to an orgasm, but for me, it’s less about that and more about [gestures] All Of This.

i guess this also explains why for me it’s strictly about illness – as opposed to other stuff, like motion sickness, that i never experienced OR was comforted for, or like... self-inflicted stuff that i was either punished for (like, drinking, or self-induced vomiting) or stuff that was seen as My Fault (for example, eating expired food).

anyways. lotta words to explain why i’m big horny about puke, huh?

weirdly enough, tummblr dot vom has helped with a LOT of this stuff. once i realized that this WAS a kink (i was... 19 when i realized i was feeling Sexual Stuff about puke, oh my god, although looking back, it should’ve been obvious earlier, and i wonder if i always knew), making this blog and interacting w/ the community really made me unlearn a lot of the shame i felt, both about having a fetish AND about being sick. it’s really cool, y’know?

this has gotten long enough so i’m just gonna leave it here.

#here! i'm vulnerable on main! please clap!#this is the most i think i've ever shared abt my life with yall. you're welcome.#i hope that anon last year who was like 'please don't ever stop being horny' knows that i owe them my Life.#anyways! i've dealt w a lotta shame around this so that's why i'd prefer if you don't rb.

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persephunee · 4 years

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Psycho, But it’s Okay thoughts (SPOILERS AHEAD):

Non spoiler quick thoughts: absolutely in love with this drama. Tim Burton vibes. Super dark. Definitely need more !!!!! I missed Kim soo Hyun :)

FIRST OF ALL I have to praise the animation in this drama and the way it’s encorporated into the show because honestly just WOW. I think the scene where it’s stood out the most is the scene with Moon Sang Tae (played by Oh Jung Se), where the animation/art transforms and pulls us into his dream world/mind desperately running away from the butterflies. I just think it’s done so well how they bring these books to life, and make them part of the real story. It adds this dark magic to the show.

The other thing I loved is how well directed and written this show is and it’s only one episode in!!! Everything from the aesthetics/cinematography, to the pacing of the story is flawlessly done. It keeps this serious dark Tim Burton style vibe, while also somehow maintaining all the little cliche things we love about Korean dramas (like those intense stares and close ups hehe). I think bringing the story full circle by the end of the episode was clever, and smart because it ties the animation and story from the start to something more tangible. Of course you guess that the story that’s narrated in the beginning relates to our two leads, but to use that tiny reveal moment to create tension between the characters was very well done. The flashbacks corresponding to the same story and scenes (but this time live action) was also a really good way to bring it all together, but in a way that makes you want to know more. It reveals the characters connection, but leaves enough mystery to keep the viewer hooked.

These next things I’ll leave as dot points because honestly I’m a bit at a loss for words and can’t put the rest of my thoughts into cohesive sentences:

- THE CLOSE UP OF KIM SOO HYUN’S BODY WAS UNNECESSARY BUT ALSO KIND OF NECESSARY . I get it was a way to show his scars... but oooooofffff it seriously killed me.

- The dark humour had me cackling !!!!!!

- I’m worried that the show might not show mental illness in the best light... however so far it’s not TOO BAD, and I have a feeling that the overall message of the story will be good. TVN has ventured into some mental health topics before but never to this extent so it’ll be interesting to see if I end up agreeing or disagreeing with it’s portrayal of mental health. The patient throwing up on Kim Soo HYUN’S character was a bit much, but also slightly dark humour and I honestly thought it was kind of funny? However I can see it being triggering for people as well and how it could potentially be problematic. Otherwise, I really liked that the little girl still loved her father and in the end you could see she knew he was just very sick and that what he really needed was to be helped. There’s a lot to unpack here, but I think as the story moves along we’ll see more and be able to have a better understanding of the writers overall message.

-I mentioned it above but the animation was amazing and I seriously want to buy these books... But I don’t think they exist in real life :(

- I love the irony of Moon Young being a children’s book author, even though she’s this super dark person who clearly has a lot of trauma and issues from her past/childhood etc.

-Oh I love Kang-Tae’s best friend as well!!!!!!!!!! He’s so funny and I have a feeling he’s gonna bring some of that levity and comic relief to the show. He’s so dramatic and hilarious, but you see as well that he truly cares for Kang-Tae (Kim Soo Hyun) and his brother a lot. It’s also good to see that Kang Tae’s character isn’t this isolated loner, that he does have someone in his life that’s there to support him because he obviously has trauma’s of his own.

-omg how can I forget to say THE ACTING IS AMAZING!!!!

- Seo Ye Ji shower scene 👀👀 I don’t think I need to say anymore than that. Also the fact that it’s usually the guy that gets a shower scene hehehe I just enjoyed that :D

Ok so that’s all my random thoughts about episode 1

#사이코지만괜찮아 #psycho but it’s okay #Kim soo hyun #seo Ye ji #this drama is amazing so far i cry

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sometimesrosy · 4 years

Note

(1) Thank you for the gif(t)s of Misters Elba & Morley. I could always use a little more of them in my life ;) Sorry for the last rant but I’m perplexed by those regarding Bellarke as a six season platonic friendship possibly to turn romantic in the last stretch or not at all. And “turn” is generous since some prefer to use “forced” instead. I suppose it can technically be true but only in the strictest, most surface-level sense. It’s been a long time since I’ve thought of Bellarke as NOT part

(2) of a romantic narrative. I look back and see Bellarke as a three-sided dynamic- partnership, friendship, and romance, with each side of the triangle pushing and influencing the others and each season deepening the dynamic. Even season 1 had elements of all three. I’d say progression is the most accurate term to describe their story. Strangers of different hierarchical classes to political rivals to co-leaders to friends to lovers separated by trauma, politics, death, time, other partners to

(3) future couple. Not a single step exists in a vacuum. Their relationship and individual character development are pieces fit to form a complete puzzle over time. Or as I’ve come to see, a seamless 100-episode tale with interconnected threads from start to finish. The only right way to decipher meaning is to look beyond a collection of scenes to the full picture of what we have so far. All stories are chronicles of progression from one point to the next and romance plots are no exception. JR

(4) didn’t invent some newfangled revolutionary storytelling protocol. His story just requires us to look beneath the surface and connect the dots across a seven season sequence. By 6x10, there are no layers needed to be looked under. The romance is smack dab in the middle of the room for all to witness, figuratively and literally. Even the nonshippers can see it, it’s not exclusive to the trained eye of the romance lover. I thought I signed up for a great story years ago. But I never would’ve

(5) known HOW great it was without the thought-provoking, deep-dive analyses by you, jeanie205 and the 3rd in the triumvirate of fandom heroes, travllingbunny, the kind of insights that bring an accompanying joy to the show itself and leave one stupefied in awe. Thank you all, truly. I don’t have sure plans to watch the prequel yet but if the 3 of you will, it may just tip the scales for me into the affirmative. It’d be fun to geek out with you guys on a new-ish adventure from the start.

+++

I got chills when you said,

Not a single step exists in a vacuum. Their relationship and individual character development are pieces fit to form a complete puzzle over time. Or as I’ve come to see, a seamless 100-episode tale with interconnected threads from start to finish.

That was the most unexpected thing about this show. That it wasn’t just another fun show with hot people in the apocalypse with shocking twists dealing with complex questions-- which would be good enough, you know? Lots of fun. No, it was more. I did NOT figure out that it was a novelistic show until we got to season 3 and even then I didn’t understand how LONG TERM a novel was being told here. Not a novel, more like a series. A novel would be season long, but the narratives here have lasted for 7 seasons.

It is seamless. Subplots weaving in and out of the 7 seasons. Character arcs taking the whole series to complete. That actually really confused me in season 3, because I expected both Clarke and Bellamy to finish their hero’s journeys in that season, and instead, there I was, feeling like it was unfinished because they HADN’T returned from their journeys wiser and stronger, ready to change their worlds. Nope. They were still struggling and learning.

Just because I SAW the hero’s journeys in season 3 (a little late, mind you, since they started in s1 in the ‘hot people in the apocalypse’ phase,) doesn’t mean THAT was the entirety of the hero’s journey. It actually stands to reason that if they’re on a hero’s journey, that it’s a whole series long journey. Oooh. But then this hiatus, someone was like... are you sure Clarke isn’t on a HEROINE’S journey? And I, not really being an expert on the heroine’s journey and only seeing the hero’s part of it (which is like the first half of the heroine’s journey?) had to go research it and LO AND BEHOLD, her journey was the HEROINE’S journey, which TOTALLY fits with the dual protagonist, yin/yang, dark/light, head/heart, binary stars, feminist, mythic, epic love story of it all. NOW it all makes sense, why I couldn’t understand that her hero’s journey hadn’t finished yet (because it shifted into the more unexpected heroine’s journey.)

It always frustrates me when people say I can’t admit I’m wrong and am delusional about bellarke, because I have continually adjusted my theories as the story has gone on, changing them when something is off and doesn’t match canon and THAT’S why my theories are still holding up, which they are. Because I keep checking them back against canon. And when canon confirms the theories I have, I keep using them. When canon josses my theories and headcanons, I adjust. I ask myself, okay where did I go wrong? what is he really saying here? I’ve been struggling, particularly with Raven and Murphy’s roles in the show, and talked to various people about them, because I couldn’t grab ahold of them. With shipping, particularly, things can get confused. I’m wondering if Raven’s love story is not for another person at all, what if it’s self love? Because her most consistent relationships have actually been with familial relationships. Clarke as sister. Bellamy as big brother. Abby as mom. Sinclair as dad. While the romances have failed her. (whether they intended to start out this way or not idk, since all the actors who played her love interests asked to leave or were fired.) And I’m wondering if Murphy’s main love story is actually a spiritual love story. His romance with Emori is a good one, but here he is now wondering about immortality and morality, and he’s always been concerned with that just not secure enough to have answers. Maybe spirituality is his route to finding peace within his soul and coping with his mental illness and trauma? IDK. ANYWAY

I don’t think this show is flawless, and maybe they’ve had to franken-stitch some of their plotlines together to fit when things didn’t work out, and maybe some of their subplots ended in a way that didn’t satisfy us because we wanted something BETTER for those characters even though the tragic ending was part of the larger narrative, but I agree that it is seamless, one leading to the other to the next. When I look back at the storylines I didn’t understand or didn’t like as much, I can see how they fit with the larger narrative. How they lead to the ending the whole show is heading towards.

It’s actually very exciting. It’s not a new way to tell stories, it’s an old one, but it’s not one we see on tv very often, with its ratings and early cancellations and dependence on seasonal !POW! endings to keep people watching, and it’s impatience with slow story telling. They COMMITTED to a long term story despite the risk, and that must have been really hard with the pressures from hollywood and the money people and fandom and reviewers and even the cast. it’s remarkable and I can’t wait to see how it’s wrapped up. No matter what the endings are for our fave characters, I think it will be fascinating to see. And being able to watch the whole show, knowing how it ends, and that it was all crafted to be that way, is going to be really cool. It’s impressive, actually. I think the future will actually be much kinder to this show than the present is. Watching it week to week, you can’t see the development so much, but when we get the whole thing, everyone will be able to see it. I think this series is going to count as a future classic.

It’s like the reverse of GOT. We expected GOT to be novelistic, based on the epic ASOIAF novels as it was, we expected it to have a grand structure that pulled everything together and gave it a bigger meaning, and in the end, it was trash shlock with no meaning past boobies, action, trauma porn, and dragons. HOWEVER, The 100 was thought to be some trash teen scifi soap with no meaning but hooking up, action, trauma porn and apocalypses, and it’s ending up being an epic novelistic series with a grand structure that pulls everything together and gives it meaning. Basically, if JR had been hired by HBO to do GOT, he would have done it right. But D&D were hollywood hacks and flim flam men who only know how to do surface and don’t understand story. (and are also racist and misogynistic bullies.)

ANYWAY, nonny. Do you have a blog? You should be writing this stuff down under your own name. If you send it to me on anon because you don’t have your own blog, you should think about it. I’m pretty sure that @jeanie205 and @travllingbunny would agree with me. I have limited what meta I reblog due to past experiences, but I think other people would like to follow you.

#the 100 #epic story #novelistic #narrative arc #series finale

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pigeontheoneandonly · 4 years

Text

The Wanderers Part 6: Gone

Continuing the story of Nathaly and Kaidan in the Dragon Age universe. Read previous chapters here.

The ship sailed by the long black wall, slowing as it came into the harbor and affording its passengers a good long look at the ancient Tevinter carvings. Some of the old gods had eroded softly into the cliffside, their lines melting under a thousand years of pounding waves; others defaced by Chantry zealots. And some stood yet in crisp relief. Kaidan shivered as their cruel eyes passed over the deck.

“Unnerving, isn’t it.” Beside him, Ash folded her arms, gazing upwards. “Liara and I have passed through here before, but we’ve never gone into the city. Makes her sick just being this close to it.”

It wasn’t hard to see what she meant. Something in the air made his skin crawl. “Bad things happened here.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Guess you can sense it, too. That’s what she’d say. And that was before the Chantry blew up.”

Kaidan pulled his cloak tighter and turned away from the wall. Ash put her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’re not getting off here. It’s just a port of call. The ship will unload its cargo, pick up some new goods, and be on its way. Shouldn’t take more than a day or so.”

“Unfortunately, we don’t have that option.” Garrus emerged from below decks, Nathaly on his heels. “We left Ferelden too quickly to bank much in the way of supplies, and as of yesterday we have nothing to eat.”

“Breakfast did seem a little non-existent today.” Kaidan shook his head. “But this is Kirkwall. It’s too dangerous. We can hold out—”

“It’s three days to the next port.” Nathaly was pulling on her gloves, checking the fit. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not prepared to face whatever’s waiting for us on that road after a four-day fast.”

His mouth thinned, stubborn. She let out a breath. “Garrus and I will head into the city, buy what we need, and be back in a few bells.”

Ash tilted her head. “Is Kirkwall even keeping bells these days? I mean, the largest chantry’s gone, and the smaller ones would’ve kept time off its bell tower.”

“It’s a figure of speech.” She was exasperated. “We’re taking the money and our weapons, but everything else is in our cabin with Liara.”

She’d been ill since they came in sight of Kirkwall. At the time, Kaidan thought it coincidence, but during their voyage he realized she was much more sensitive to spirits than him. And this city was as restless as anywhere he’d been.

Which was the crux of why he didn’t want Nathaly anywhere near it. “You don’t understand. Everything’s thinned out here. It’s not just templars and mages, city guard and Maker knows who else vying for control. It’s… look, those rumors, that their first enchanter lost control? I doubt he was the first.”

She let out a dry laugh. “You think I don’t know what this is like.”

Garrus tugged her arm. “It can wait.”

But she kept her eyes on him. He felt nailed to the deck by the weight of her gaze. “Do you know how magic gets used in real wars?”

“It’s not the time.” Garrus’ voice was just as cold. And it had another note as well—one that expected to be obeyed.

She huffed out a single breath through her nose, but apparently wasn’t willing to cross her one-time superior, at least not right now. Garrus addressed the group. “Keep an eye on Liara. Don’t leave this dock. We’ll be back before you know it.”

“We’ll be waiting,” said Ash, as the ship maneuvered into its berth and the sailors began to toss lines out to the readied help on dry land.

Nathaly wore the shirt she’d worked with clumsy embroidery, sky-blue floss stark against the white linen. A circle of barely-legible fucks, exactly as she’d planned, and an odd contrast to the elaborate and careful tooling of her leather armor. It was full kit today. Spaulders, vambraces, greaves and all. Kaidan only knew their names because one of the templars responsible for his apprentice group, nearly as young as his charges, used to recite them under his breath. He supposed the templar didn’t know the Ferelden terms. His accent was almost indecipherable when he got nervous.

But in short, she looked ready for a fight. Maybe even looking for one, by the set of her shoulders and the sharpness of her eyes. He glanced at Garrus. “Keep her out of trouble?”

Garrus laughed. Nathaly scowled.

“That’s affirmative,” he said, clasping his arm across his chest in a Ferelden salute. Kaidan’s ears reddened. But he felt a little lighter as they stepped off the ship, and vanished into the dockside crowd.

Kaidan sat down on a box to wait.

And wait.

The sun had slid to other side of the sky when Ashley finally stirred from their cabin below. Kaidan had spent the hours pacing the deck, trying to ignore the rumbling of his belly and the anxiety of his mind, growing larger every second Nathaly was late. He looked up. “It’s been too long.”

“Far too long,” she agreed, looking grim. “If they’re not back soon, we’ll miss the boat. Cargo waits for nobody. A full hold’s worth more than all our passages combined, many times over, and they get penalized if they’re late.”

“Something’s gone wrong.”

Her lips thinned, but she didn’t disagree. Instead, she crossed her arms and turned towards the city. Frowning in thought. “We’ll never find them. Kirkwall is a metropolis, and that’s true even when it’s not in chaos.”

“We can’t just leave them here.” He was appalled.

“I don’t believe you heard me say anything of the kind.” Her fingers tapped against her elbow. “I overheard one of the longshoreman say they’re rounding up anyone who so much as smells of criminal intent. Under the circumstances, just being armed and armored might be enough.”

“So, what, we go to the magistrate and demand their release?”

“You don’t go anywhere.” Nothing suggested it was anything less than an order. “This is not the place to be a mage right now.”

Based on the atmosphere, Kaidan suspected it had never been a place to be a mage. And he strongly suspected it would only get worse further in. But Nathaly came for him, when he had no business hoping anyone ever would, and he was damned if he’d leave her to her fate without doing everything he could.

Ash waited, almost like she was daring him to countermand her. He chewed his lip. Then his eyes widened. “The bags.”

He rushed down the stairs. Ashley only just kept up, more and more confused. “What?”

“They said they left everything here.” He burst into the cabin. Liara sat up, blinking in the sudden light. She’d gone pasty laying there. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead.

Kaidan glanced at her. “Where are the packs?”

She pointed. He tossed them aside until he found Nathaly’s, and dug into the pockets.

“What—” Liara started to say, only to be shushed by Ash, who watched him with narrow eyes.

Then he found it, standing with it clasped in his fist. “This. We can use this.”

Holding out a skein of bright blue embroidery floss.

She eyed it. “I don’t follow.”

Liara looked between them. “Will someone tell me what’s happened, please?”

“It’s almost evening, and they’re not back,” Ashley explained. “I don’t think they’re coming back. They’re in trouble.”

Her eyes focused on the skein. “Of course. Sympathetic magic.”

“What?”

Kaidan explained. “Nathaly sewed this into her shirt. Threads from this exact skein.”

“And she did it herself, with her own hands, so the connection will be that much stronger,” said Liara.

“Exactly.”

Ash rubbed her forehead. “Translation, please.”

“It’s basic magic theory.” Liara’s breathing was labored, her voice rasping. “An object riven in two will always want to be reunited. It’s part of how phylacteries function. A sensitized mage can trace that energy.”

Her eyebrows rose. “You’re saying this string can tell us where she is?”

Kaidan shook his head. “Not like you’re imagining. I can’t point to her on a map. It’ll be like…”

“A compass,” Liara supplied.

He threw her a grateful look. “Yes, a compass. Pointing due Nathaly.”

Ash looked between them. She wasn’t happy. “Let me guess. You can’t attune it to me. You have to come, too.”

“Would you rather go hunting without any guide?” he shot back, eyebrows raised.

She stared him down, something reminiscent of Nathaly in the look, but without nearly the same force. They’d clearly been friends a long time. Then she let out an exasperated sigh. “Get your gear. I’ll get the armor. Can’t have you waving around a staff and doing magic without a templar at your side.”

#mass effect #dragon age #shenko #nathaly shepard #kaidan alenko #the wanderers #crossover #fanfiction #fshenko

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dgcatanisiri · 4 years

Text

I had the thought recently about how the idea of “canonical character interaction is antagonistic which leads to them being shipped” is DEFINITELY representative of heteronormative attitudes - We have, for good and for ill, been brought up to believe that “pulling pigtails” is a sure sign of attraction between little boys and little girls, and this is then transferred over into a same-sex pairing. As a trope, this goes back AT LEAST to Shakespeare and The Taming of the Shrew.

Problem is, that’s NOT the same-sex attraction experience. The same-sex attraction experience is that someone of the same-sex shows us the smallest ounce of decency and kindness, we will spend years following in their shadow and building an image in our head of them being our perfect example of love.

*ahem* What, why are you looking at me like that?

Anyway, there are two particular examples in my mind that kinda emphasize just how this plays out when it comes to media and the fans reactions of same-sex pairings, at least on the M/M end. And they make a case for certain problems within fan communities, with the respective media they’re for reacting in different ways, and, in my personal opinion, show how the people running the shows and the fan responses don’t get the differences.

(Even though, yes, I realize, both of my examples are helmed by gay men - it’s not like their staffs were gay and the studios were not, so that is less of a thing for the purposes of what I’m trying to say here.)

So, example one: Glee. Glee is, rightfully, a dark period of time we are truly better off pretending never existed, but it’s useful for my point, so please bear with me. IN CANON, Kurt spent much of the first season hopelessly head over heels for Finn. This was an actual, ongoing subplot through the first season, up to the point it culminated in the mess it that it did we’re not here to go into that god I really could rant on Glee if I were going to...

Right. My point. Sorry. Glee does that to me.

Anyway, Kurt’s canonical attraction in season one was towards Finn, and, while we all knew it would never happen, that the intent was always going to be towards the heterosexual breeding pair of Finn and Rachel... At this point in time, when I was in the Glee fandom, the main pairing was Kurt and Puck.

Puck, the guy whose INTRODUCTION was leading a pack of bullies in tossing Kurt in a dumpster. THAT was where the majority of the fanfics I came across at the time were looking towards.

Fandom saw “bully and victim” and took it to “Puck is expressing his repressed feelings for Kurt by bullying him.”

And stick a pin in the concept of “fandom” in general, I’m going to come back to it after the second example.

Now, and brace yourself, because I’m about to say something positive in regards to Glee, the response on the show was to turn around and, the following season, not only introduce a new bully for Kurt who WAS doing what fanon!Puck had been doing, which lead to Kurt actively refusing a relationship with him, while also getting a canonical boyfriend. Yes, I call that a positive.

Because while I was closeted throughout my time in public school, I was still bullied and mistreated by other students, if not due directly to my sexuality. It did not lead to crushes on those guys. Hell, there were a couple of guys who spent a good amount of time pretending to be my friends, and if it had been a few years later, that might have become a crush. Instead, though, they revealed themselves before that happened and I completely cut them out of my life when they revealed themselves. And I’ve never felt bad about that.

The gay experience is not crushing on your bullies. It’s crushing on your friends, on the people who you know will be there for you. You don’t see the bully as “disguising their feelings.” No, that you’re gonna take at face value, because the alternative may well be dangerous to you. At least if someone’s been kind to you, they’re more likely to keep up that behavior. But why would you EVER put your heart - and your LIFE - on the line by telling someone who has shown you nothing but disdain “I’m attracted to you”?

Now, for the second example. If Glee was the good one (because the law of averages say it had to happen), then Teen Wolf is the bad one.

See, we all know that Stiles and Derek (no I am NOT going to refer to it by the ship name, I do NOT need that drama showing up in my feed) were considered the fandom darling.

BUT... They were the above “bully/victim” ship. Their interactions in season one were very distinctly antagonistic. Meanwhile, in terms of positive pairings that could be teased, there were a few - Scott/Stiles (bromantic best friends), Scott/Danny (Scott canonically cuts in between Danny and his Prom date so that he can hide the fact that he’s not supposed to be there by making Coach look homophobic), Scott/Derek (Derek talking about how they had a bond as pack), Stiles/Danny (”Am I attractive to gay guys?”).

But no. It was Stiles and Derek that became the runaway darling in the fandom. To the point that, eventually, the show engaged actively in queerbaiting, throwing them together more and more often, but ultimately never doing more than teasing before throwing female characters at the both of them.

(Granted, I also don’t think that any discussion of that particular ship is valid unless you also acknowledge the racism involved, considering that the ship itself features two white guys, while the other two characters I mentioned are, respectively, Latino and Hawaiian, very clearly not white - you will note that Scott and Jackson had a similar antagonistic relationship, and THAT pairing didn’t get much attention at all, despite not having any competition with the “main” ship. In particular, I think that it was entirely valid for Tyler Posey to have seen this reaction and condemned the ship, because it was basically people diminishing him and his character to focus on white guys, especially when you consider how often Scott’s traits ended up being transposed onto Stiles... Okay, this is starting to move beyond the scope I wanted for this.)

Now. back to the issue of “fandom.” Because you know... I don’t think the “fandom” of either of these pairings, Kurt and Puck and Stiles and Derek consisted heavily of actually gay fans - not that they weren’t out there, but I don’t think they were the bulk of the initial fans of the first season, only really coming on board after season two and the active queerbaiting. I think they were, at the time of the first season, heavily made up of teenage girls.

And I’m not saying this as part of the general habit that there is in media critique to just dismiss teenage girls as a demographic as cringey don’t-pay-attention-to-THAT-crowd. It’s just my observation that, for teenage girls, all the things we say about women in fandom exploring their sexualities are magnified - what’s the common observation, that women in fandom use M/M pairings to explore a “safe” dynamic that they can observe and play out harmlessly for themselves, something to that effect?

So that’s the awareness I’m coming into this with - those teenage girls (and I’m emphasizing teenage girls because we have high school dramas, where I’m fairly sure these are the primary audience) use the awareness that they had of “how relationships work” when it comes to heterosexual relationships and were simply applying it to their perceptions of the gay pairings they were looking at. That “pulling pigtails” is the trope this audience associated with attraction, and so it’s how they applied.

THIS IS NOT CONDEMNATION. I really feel I have to hammer this point - I am observing a trend, in the name of awareness and understanding, I am not trying to say that anyone who was doing this or is still doing this has done ANYTHING wrong here. I want that to be very clear. This is me having spotting this trend and wanting to give it some attention, because look at the age of the examples I’m offering - both these shows lasted for six seasons and have concluded their runs, I’m only looking at their first seasons here as is, we are not talking about recent stuff, just history of fandom. I could have looked at more and seen if there was a universal trend or just a trend of the times or what. While this certainly could be grounds for one, this is not me having done some massive research project consisting of multi-media examinations of fandom and queerness, I’m just connecting dots and trends that I have seen to look at this thing that, going forward, I would like to see us pay attention to and be aware of.

Because my point is (for the TL;DR summary) that same-sex attraction manifests DIFFERENTLY. To express attraction to the person who is mistreating you is to invite harm being inflicted. The gay experience is to pine from afar because they were nice to you. And, obviously, a straight person is not going to know this inherently - this is part of an experience that they don’t have.

I’d just like to see this recognized in the future when it comes to how people respond to and react to the popular same-sex ships in fandom - are they being shipped by actual queer people, or is it prominently the straight fandom using their view of things and latching on to a ship, rather than being actual queer fans expressing themselves.

Like, that’s one of my big things - I often don’t feel very... I’m going to hedge this as “noticed,�� rather than any other term, within fandom a lot of them time, as a queer man and queer creator. The big names in fandom, writing for the popular ships, still tend to be female creators, which... I’m not discounting the queer women who are writing and making art and all that featuring M/M pairings, but I do feel like they get elevated to a point where the queer men doing the same creation do not, which can seem like a problem, even if I recognize that it’s as much an issue of who even picks up the pen or opens the word processor or whatever as it is a matter of promotion - I do recognize that it may be as much that queer men aren’t creating as much as it is anything else, there is a complex ball of interconnected issues pushing and pulling on one another..

It’s just a frustrating feeling of not seeing your experiences being given your voice - it means you have to depend on others to speak your story. Which, surprise, surprise, is not exactly encouraging to gay people, who’dve thunk?

#another angry queer rant #dg rants

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contrivedcoincidences6 · 5 years

Text

The Invisible Cord- Chapter 5

November 2011

Somewhere in rural Virginia

***

“Mulder, this is ridiculous, you have no idea who these people are. For all, we know this could be a giant trap and a good one too because it’s working!” Scully exclaims, throwing her arms in the air to punctuate her irritation. I rub her arms and try to radiate calm.

“It wouldn’t hurt for us to respond and see what they have to say, Scully. We could call Skinner and bring along our own guns.”

I press a kiss on her furrowed brow and she sighs.

“The last time I saw Kurt Crawford –or his clones I guess–all of them wanted to help you. They considered you one of their mothers. They hated to see you in pain. Hell, they were the ones who gave me your ova, along with a lot of other critical information.” Scully’s arms snake around my waist and I pull her close, “I think we can trust Kurt.”

“How do we know that note was really from him?”

“We don’t. But there’s only one way to find out.”

Finally, she looks up at me and nods.

***

November 2011

Baltimore, Maryland

The house is as quiet as it’s ever been but for the occasional jingle of the cat playing with her toys. My life has just been standard and boring, at least until I got the message about my baby.

In 1994 I was married, pregnant, and happy. Within a year my baby was gone, I was left barren, and my husband and I were separated. He moved on and had a family, leaving me behind with my grief.

I’d always assumed that my baby had died while I was missing, but this message makes me believe otherwise. There were details about my abduction and pregnancy that were so personal. So I called Gary.

He’d got the same message but he refused to go. He didn’t deny that whoever it was sounded credible; he just was not interested in stirring up his life.

He’d moved on only a couple years after our divorce and I never remarried. I became a bit of a recluse even.

I spent my free time going to MUFON meetings and trying to find answers. I met other women who had similar experiences.

There were other women in the group who said they’d been pregnant when they were taken and were then left barren. Many of them found their lives falling apart afterward and all of us felt an indescribable bond.

When I found them they told me about the chip in the back of my neck and all of them had removed theirs. I went to the doctor to get it removed but as I sat in the waiting room something felt off and I left. In the end, I was glad I never removed it.

The first woman in our group was diagnosed not long after I joined and soon they all were sick. I lost all of my best friends within a year. By the end, we’d connected the dots between the removal of the chip and the cancer. There was no sure answer but I never got sick and I was the only one who never grew ill.

All of my friends died before we could figure out what happened to us. Since then I have stuck mostly to myself.

I don’t have anything to lose taking this meeting but I have everything to gain.

***

November 2011

The Freedom Inn

Washington D.C.

“Are you nervous?” I ask May as we wait.

She’s been too quiet and it’s unlike her. I’m never sure what to do in these situations, usually, she is the one comforting me.

Sensing that she lays her head on my shoulder. “Why do you think my father didn’t want to meet me?”

“I don’t know, May. Maybe he doesn’t believe them,” I shrug, wondering why my own parents have yet to respond.

“Or maybe he doesn’t want me.”

I consider this carefully and start to wonder if this is the case with my parents. A sick feeling broils in my stomach.

Why would they want me? I’m a freak. I hadn’t considered that my parents would not want me but it would make sense.

Turning I look at Kurt who’s sitting at the table.

“What did you tell our parents?”

His face is impassive as always.

“I told them I had information about their children. I didn’t go into detail.”

“But why have my parents not responded?” I ask, trying to keep the anxiety out of my voice.

“Your parents are not trusting. They have been through quite a bit so it is justified. I would imagine they are trying to make sure it’s not some kind of trick.”

“What about my father?” May asks.

“Your mother and father separated not long after you were taken. He has another family. I would imagine he doesn’t want to delve into painful memories. He doesn’t know that you are alive. We might let him know later but for now it’s too dangerous to show our hand,” Kurt says with little emotion.

May looks at me and I rub her back. She acts like she doesn’t care but I know hearing that her father might not care about her.

“How will they know it’s us?” I finally ask.

“They will know.”

After a beat, Kurt turns to look at me, speaks again.

“Your parents have met you before, April.”

I frown at him, “What?”

The words sound like they’re coming from underwater and I sound surprisingly calm despite my racing heart.

“They knew you as Emily Sim.” He looks at me meaningfully for a moment but continues, “You’re adopted mother was murdered. By chance your biological mother found you. She hadn’t even known you existed until that point. She was trying to adopt you when the men controlling your fate faked your death. Back then they had not fully perfected the injections. Your blood was green and toxic. After a few years of study, they put you back into the normal world. I imagine they did something to your memory.”

Images begin to flash before my eyes and I press the heel of my hands to them, trying to protect myself from the pain.

My mother is lying in a bathtub. Her blood is all over the floor. My father is being arrested. A gold cross necklace is around my neck. I am watching cartoons in the hospital. The rest is faces I can’t make sense of and voices I barely recognize. I feel sick to my stomach.

“April?” May asks as I shake my head, look at her blankly.

“I…I think I remember them.”

#the invisible cord #txf fanfic #txf fanfiction #the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #clarices fic

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