#this is my first time directly putting fanfic onto tumblr - i hope I did it okay

[nhothicket]

ON MY KNEE IM IN LOVE WITH YOUR BAND AU ON MY KNEES BEGGING FOR ANYTHING ELSE YOU HAVE TO SPARE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A FANFIC, FANART, JUST A SIMPLE LIKE ANYTHING TEXT POST SOBBING AND WEEPING AT YOUR FEET!!!!!!!!

I decided to do both some art and a fic because you asked so nicely!! Thank you for the nice ask, I hope this is what you were looking for ^v^

I couldn't come up with a good title for this fic whoops.

Words - 1.4k

No warnings, they're gay and they act gay

Summary - Etho finds himself dragged away from the safety of his tour bus and into the den of very scary and very cool rockstar, Bdoubleo.

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"Wash up on your six." Pause lightly elbowed Etho with a snicker. "Comin' right for ya."

"Hurry up then." Etho tried to push his bandmates into the bus, but the chase was over before it began.

"Etho!" The threat approached.

"Beef, move-"

"Sorry man, you're on your own." Beef climbed on and turned to give him an entirely unapologetic smile. "You guys have fun now."

"Hey-" The bus door shut right in his face. "Beef! Pause! Hey!"

"Ethooo!" Two arms slung around his neck from behind, awkwardly pulling him down and backward. Etho gagged and turned around. Face to face with the tiny menace of the festival grounds. "Long time no see!"

"Hey, Bdoubleo."

"So formal, you're no fun, sweetheart." Bdubs puffed his cheeks out. "It's been like a y- like whole year, c'mon, loosen up!"

"It's been a few months and I'm busy."

"No you ain't. I saw your buddies ditch ya." Bdubs offered up all the charm he could muster. "Wanna hang out in my van?"

"Not creepy at all." Etho's protest was weak willed. He leaned down and ruffled Bdubs' hair without even thinking about it, it came as a second nature at this point. "Yeah, sure."

"You just can't deny me. I'm irresistible!"

"Uh-huh."

"Your sarcasm is no use!" Bdubs dragged Etho across the lot to his shabby old van. Etho would judge, but if it weren't for Beef and Pause, he'd be touring out of the back of his ancient pickup. Bdubs threw the back doors open and hopped inside. "Didya see my set this morning? I know it was a bit early for someone like you."

"Of course I did." Etho gracefully ignored the last comment. Perched on the edge of the trunk, Bdubs' enthusiasm was contagious, his prideful smile was so genuine it made Etho smile a bit under his mask in a shallow imitation. "Loud as always."

"You know it!" The back of Bdubs' van was surprisingly clean. Two seats sat on each side and a mini fridge was pressed into the back corner. A soft mat was rolled up opposite to it, presumably Bdubs' bed. Bdubs got up to flop onto a seat and pat the spot next to him. "Beer?"

"Uhh..." As soon as Etho sat down an arm settled around his shoulders. "Yeah, sure. Why not?"

"That's what I like to hear." Bdubs opened up his little fridge and tossed Etho a can. He refused to remove his arm from Etho's shoulders and instead used his teeth to crack his own can open, kicking the fridge shut. "Off with the mask! I'm not some fanboy, I'm the real deal! Itsh been so long, I've missed seeing your dopey face."

"Bold words coming from the goofiest solo act I've ever seen."

"I am not goofy! I'm hard!"

"Oh?" Etho pulled his mask down just to show Bdubs his smug smirk.

"Don't- don't give me that! You know what I mean!" Bdubs growled. "I'm a rockstar!"

"You were like decades ago."

"And still going strong!" Bdubs took an obnoxious gulp from his beer. "You are awfully mouthy for a man who plays a freakin' keytar, what decade is it for you?"

"You'd know, old man."

"I am not- Okay, old lady! Fresh outta the 1600s!"

"Boomer."

"That's my name! Don't wear it out, Ethel!"

They glared at eachother for a moment, locked in a silent staring contest. Bdubs and his obnoxious doe eyes were forever unbeatable though, and Etho was forced to blink. A very ungraceful winner cheered and crushed a can to further punctuate his manly dominance.

"I'm never forgiving Pause for telling you."

"Aww, but its so cute." Bdubs pinched Etho's cheek. "What, your parents wanted a girl or something?"

"Sure, something like that." Etho sipped from his beer, sliding a bit down the seat so Bdubs could more comfortably pull his charm. As small as Bdubs was, it was always comical watching him stretch to take up the more dominant flirting positions. Etho knew he'd sit there with his arm up around his shoulders until it went numb if that's what it took.

"You haven't told me you missed me yet."

"I forgot I even knew you."

"Ouch! Rude." Bdubs leaned closer and winked. "I think about you all the time."

"Yeah, because you're the most jealous person I know."

"Guilty as charged!" Bdubs chirped. He easily slid right back into joking when his attempt at flirting was met with more banter; Etho wasn't sure he'd be able to recover that quickly himself.

"Plotting my downfall, huh?"

"I'll get you some day."

"I'm rooting for you."

"Thank you, sweetheart! You're always on my side." Bdubs tapped his can to Etho's. "To ruining your career."

"To ruining my career."

The pair fell into a lull, Bdubs kept chatting, but it was mostly white noise. Bdubs talked just to talk and Etho listened just to listen. It was only a few beers later and the lull transitioned into a comfortable buzz. Bdubs got a bright idea. He reached over the seats in the middle of the van, clumsily pulling over his decorated acoustic guitar.

"Any requests, Easy?"

"Anything but one of your own." Etho absent-mindedly dropped his arm around Bdubs' shoulders, reestablishing the connection that had been broken when the shorter man went to get his instrument.

"You are so mean to me." Bdubs puffed his cheeks out as he thought. "We should do some music together sometime."

"You'd be eaten alive." Etho considered the reputation Bdubs had. "I can see it already— you fighting with all the people online."

"It'd be worth it." Bdubs played a few random chords. "We could do a love duet."

"With Pause? I'm not a vocalist, Bdubs."

"You didn't deny being in love with me."

"I wouldn't have to love you to sing a song with you."

"I'd write it about us, baby."

"Uh-huh." A brief silence started to build, but Bdubs quickly broke the tension with a snicker, Etho followed suit. "You're an idiot."

"C'mon! You got a good voice. We could do an epic rock ballad."

"I'm good."

"Your loss!" Bdubs turned back to his guitar, but Etho could see the mischief brewing on his face. "You still like Paramore?"

"Don't play it."

"I learned a song just for you!"

"Don't play it, Bdubs." He already knew what the sappy romantic had in mind.

"You are so unappreciative. I go out of my way to learn a nice song from the 'music' you like." Bdubs threw up air quotes and Etho just rolled his eyes. How a man who'd sold his soul to the system could stand to be so critical of what counted as music was beyond him.

"Give me your guitar."

"No!" Bdubs got two chords out before Etho pulled it from his hands. "Hey! Hey! Give it here!"

"I'm not letting you try to serenade me with a song you heard on the radio."

"You know it would work! C'monnn!"

"Absolutely not." Etho held the guitar away from Bdubs, but regrettably, he couldn't hide his smile when his mask was around his neck.

"You come into my house! Sit on my bed! And dare disrespect me like this?"

"We are in the back of a van, Bdoubleo."

"My home away from home!" Etho leaned across the trunk and dropped the guitar onto the other seat. Bdubs immediately tried to lunge for it, but Etho caught him in a bear hug before he could even stand up. In fact, being hugged instantly stopped Bdubs in his tracks. "Woah, hey- guess I didn't need to serenade you at all!"

"Sure." Etho pulled away so he could see Bdubs' face. Alcohol warmed cheeks, dark eyes, and a stupid smirk.

"Like what you see?"

"Maybe."

"Shomehow, you manage to dry text when you talk." Bdubs rolled his eyes. He leaned up and kissed Etho, his patience worn thin in his buzz. Etho pulled him closer. "I missed you."

"Me too." Etho finally admitted. They sat with their foreheads pressed together.

"You could afford to text back more often, I know you ain't that freakin' famous."

"Isn't the anticipation more fun?"

"Don't play coy! I know you're just lazy."

"Guilty." Bdubs pressed a flurry of kisses to Etho's jaw.

"You're lucky I even allow you in my pre- in my presence, I don't usually kiss fans."

"It's a good thing I don't care much for sellouts then."

"Kiss my ass."

"Ohh, the bad boy said a curse word."

"Get out of my van, I'm sick of your stupid face already." Bdubs grumbled. Yet, his arms stayed locked around Etho's waist. Etho made no attempt to change that.

"Gonna be at our set tomorrow? It's past your bedtime."

"You're worth stayin' up for." Bdubs cooed. "Better dedicate a song to me."

"We'll play twinkle twinkle little star for you."

"On your nerdy little fake guitar?"

"On my nerdy little fake guitar."

"Adorable."

#dreading needing to come up with a title when I inevitably add this to my Ao3 oneshot book #this is my first time directly putting fanfic onto tumblr - i hope I did it okay #band au #bdubs #etho #pause #beef #birdie art #birdie writing #bdoubleo100 #ethoslab #bdouble100 fanart #ethoslab fanart #ethubs #hermitshipping #hermitcraft

[matchamorphosis]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒔

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 || you and Andy go on a trip to Greece for your birthday and discover the love you have for one another.

𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆 || fluffy fluff

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 || andy barber × black[birthday girl]!reader

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 || 5.2K

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 || jealousy, some rom com cliches, divorced!andy, i used like six different dividers to match with the storyline so very sorry if that’s unusual to you!

𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔 || past lives by bornes. mariposa by the peach rascals. apricot princess by rex orange country. out like a light by the honey sticks & ricky montgomery

𝒘. 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 || this is a birthday gift for @areyoustchewpid!!!! happy birthday ingrid!!! everyone go wish the birthday girl the best for her special day! 💗 I hope this fic fulfills your dreams of Greece with lawyer daddy and i hope you cherubs enjoy reading this <33

 + p.s || do not repost, republish or plagiarize my work on any other fanfic platform such as: wattpad, ao3, tumblr, etc or steal my work all together. do so and i will rip your spine from your scumy asshole and shove it down your talentless throat. ♡♡♡  

THE GOLDEN FLICKER OF PALE PINK CANDLES CREATE A HOLY CHASTE HUE AGAINST BASHFUL SMILE BRIGHTENING YOUR FACE.

an event that you’ve been expecting all day yet while a firm chestnut table sits underneath your crossed legs cools as a sweetpea and seasalt ocean breeze blows into the dining room your expectations have somewhat been granted and changed. where only a three layer chocolate cake sits between you and Andy, both your lovestruck eyes never leaving each other despite the comet rippling starry sky glimmering from the white paneled windows.

everything is all sparkling, soft pink and golden at this moment.

from the rosy dawned blush that grazes against Andy’s cheeks to the blushy tone of your sundress and beating heart. candles sparkling to life as you and him in the very moment, wax melting in rosy dewdrops just like the fear of allowing these caged emotions to fly free. now they seemed to have been unrestrained by the gold bars of worry, aversion, and self committed rejection.

simple cursive writing made of periwinkle icing contrasts against the dark fudge confection this dearest friend of yours created. this friend who might have been something more in a life way beyond this year and century but as your heart beats in a melody casted by the Muses themselves it pirouettes with the cupid bow lights dancing in Andy’s pools of hopeless paradise. it’s all enough for you to lace your fingers with his-which you do- and wish for something else to spread against your lips besides the cake you both will cut in a minute after you blow your candles.

the words below your cupid struck glance read Happy Birthday Y/n in the divine candlelight, a squeeze of his hand only encourages the rapid pace of your heart to jump and for you to swallow your hesitance. a very same feeling floods Andy’s insides but for the past minutes just sitting directly on the table, lighting your candles and enjoying the meteor shower, he hasn’t kept his promise to himself.

a promise he made for himself since the beginning of today when he discovered how his palms sweat when you neared him and how his heart warmed when you spoke his name and how his soul just sang a different song when you took his hand.

he should say something now, he should tell you how much you mean to him in this different roseate light. maybe you’ll say the same words back and maybe with the rush of the rose glasses besides you both one thing may lead to another but what comes out of his mouth makes him bite his tongue. “I hate to break it to you but wax is getting on the cake,”

those words snap you out of your amour aura, eyes fluttering for a second and smiling afterwards when you see Andy fidgeting with the crystal glass in his large hands. cheeks reddening like ripe strawberries glowing in the warmth of spring, it radiates the space between you both and with an almost whisper to your name he has your hands in his soft palms. “what do you wish for y/n?”

the question makes you swallow the raspberry rose laced lump in your throat. the love potion for an innocent drink still glistens in your glass that rests beside your body but it would spill if you would do the simple action your heart has been caressing your mind to just pull his collar down to smash his lips against yours.

to feel the tender roughness of his bearded cheeks in your palms and his lips molded along with yours in a kiss that would put all sculptured lovers to shame. it’s making you sink and float at the same time but the sparking second that Andy leans down you oblige.

“i’m sorry for not realizing it all those years,” it makes your brows scrunch in slight confusion at the confusion, his cool apricot breath wafting and twinning with your airy exhale when his nose grazes against yours. the heat of the candles underneath your close faces, you raise your hand to cup his face.

“realizing what?” its then did the breath escape your lungs and your heart to stop beating.

seeing her open her eyes the very morning brought a different comfort than to watch her sleep- it was a normal thing to wake up but to experience her lashes fluttering to life to reveal the life in her sun speckled eyes was something for Andy. she rolled over, burying her face in the crispness of white sheets with a lazy grin.

through the honeycomb glass of the white portiéres of the hotel room, the soft sunshine of the province morning streams in and lights the bedchamber. the melodic sound of birdsong and light chatter slowly rouses her awake. Andy is seated in front of the swan feathered colored vanity, combing his hair and keeping the time on track on his watch.

the man had loads planned for you both today, a day planned for you both to be bone tired at the end but still reflecting on the memories and experiences once you laid your head to rest to sleep when it was over. the tapping rhythm of his polished tar black dress shoes fills the room, making you part open your eyelids to see who’s disrupting your peaceful second slumber.

“morning sleeping beauty, happy birthday,” he almost sing-songs, a slight whistle in his voice completely overtaking any fiber of drowsy and sleep riddance that enveloped your mind and body.

“morning Andy and thank you,” you grin with your porcelain smile, stretching your arms while simultaneously lifting your sunkissed legs. arching your back in a firm crane, yearning a deep yawn from you as you savour the sunshine on your ankles and naked shoulders.

“so I have a few things planned today but I thought it would be best to eat breakfast out at the cafe we talked about instead of ordering room service. what do you think?” his eyes focused on you in the mirror and you have no choice but to glance back with your remark weighing on your tongue.

so after a smile that was more than enough to let your childhood friend know that you were along with him for the ride you found yourself ready for your special day. a slightly puffed sleeve and flowy mint green sundress adorns your bodice softly, making you radiant in the morning sun that appears to be a glowing lemon slice across the cloudless skies.

arms securely wrap around Andy’s waist as he guides the scooter the same color of the sparkling sea and reflecting powdered blue vault above. hanging on to him as he brings you both to the tiny yet timeless cafe near the roaring pier of crashing waves and ancient cobblestone streets. the bouquet of large sunflowers that were tenderly hugged tightly between both your bodies are now free in your hold. their sunshine yellow petals sway in the morning breeze and take in the virtuous sunshine that rains in golden streaks on this magical day.

taking your seat near one of the outdoor tables, shaded by the umbrella the same color as the satin banner you both order your first meal as the waiter set your beginning entry of cheese, grapes, croissants and wine on a pine wood board in between you two. street cars come and go, along with passing people looking for special sites of eternal Athens Greece. the ocean bringing a calm sea mist breeze that only adds onto the refreshing and ecstatic tangibility seizing your atoms yet as you both talk about the plans you have for today.

although the words of the waiter coming to refill your tall glasses breaks both an uncontrollable smile and laugh between you both. “couples get a discount,” he spoke and you both had a dime for when you both were mistaken for a couple you’d be swimming in a sea as large as the one that captures your irises and heart.

with his confusion Andy quickly nods along, “yes we’d take that discount thank you,” and the waiter smiles back as he steps away after filling your glasses and informing you about your meal which you both thank back.

“Andy I thought we weren’t gonna take advantage of discounts by pretending we’re a couple anymore,” you broke with a raised brow and Andy only rolled his eyes in any way that wouldn’t ever be taken seriously by anyone despite his job disposition.

“awe come on y/n let's relive old times! do you wanna pay full price when we’ve been doing this for years?” Andy looked at you through a playful demeanor that you only recognize when he’s concocting and getting away with something as seemingly harmless as this.

“i’m not really fond of the backlash when it backfires on us in the end,” you speak as you bite into a butter croissant, the rich pastry practically melting on your tongue. “also you’re making us sound like some sort of Bonnie and Clyde duo. doesn’t look good with that attorney license of yours Barber,” you laugh as you return the same eye roll back as you sit up with your glass in hand.

“remember when I booked us a reservation at that restaurant when we were in college and I freaked out over the bill? I ‘proposed’ to you and once everyone cooed and congratulated us we got our bill cut in half-”

“and I nearly kicked your ass afterwards, yeah Andy my foot is remembering the loss,” you intervene which makes Andy shake with loud laughter enough to make all the other pairs -real couples instead of you sly imposters- stop from their conversations to glance at you two breaking into hysterics whilst eating green grapes and sipping on white wine.

“to be fair we were broke college students! money was tight as hell back then but I didn’t see you complain when I got on my knees and put a ring on your finger. I thought the rhinestone looked very good with your dress that night,” popping a grape in his mouth with a humorous smirk etched on his lips.

“i’m sure you were looking forward to saying that when you gave me a kinder surprise from a candy machine.” rolling your eyes as you bite into another golden croissant, pairing it along with a nibble of creamy cheese that taste heavenly on your tongue.

“alright you can hold that against me I still deserve it,” Andy still remembers the other students in his seminar congratulating him and some who didn’t know about his engagement and divorce to Laurie still believe he’s engaged to you. it was funny and seems like something straight out of the cheesy rom coms he and you used to binge together as bored high schoolers.

that you and him used to scoff and egg on the oblivious main protagonists to just kiss and push away the denial to just be together but amongst all these couples in the morning light at this café it’s you two reliving your movie annoyances. it was hilarious and unfortunately ironic but Andy Barber didn’t see anything or comprehend the knot in your stomach when you took his hand and said something he couldn’t quite hear.

all he was paying attention to in the slow-motion picturesque of your gleaming smile, the sparkle in your deep lashy eyes and how your lips moved so theatrically as you spoke his name.

Andy, Andy, Andy

eyes glossing over in wonder, it was possibly the prettiest thing he’s seen and he’d wish to hear you say his name one more time. heart yearning to just catch your lips movement yet as his mind wedges himself back into reality he finally catches what you’ve been saying.

“Andy our food is here,” you said as the waiter came with your large glass plates of oven baked pizzas. the comforting rich smell of toasted cherry tomatoes, mozzarella cheese and freshly baked dough fill his nostrils. it's enough to cover the lush sweetness of your Dior perfume he loved taking a whiff of when you'd lean over the table to sneakily reach for his grapes and croissants.

“um, yeah thanks for the heads up,” he spoke in almost a broken sense of charisma compared to his boyish behavior minutes ago but it’s just now that’s Andy denying the feeling-

the seed of amorous that had been planted in his heart a long ago that’s beginning to sprout now.

after roaming the creaky wooden piers with the sunshine twining divinely against your hair and every inch of revealed baby soft skin. a clementine in his hands and an apricot in yours, feeding the peels to the doves that rest besides the ancient stools as Andy give hands you cardinal slice after citrusy cardinal slice.

dangling both your legs over the docks and enjoying the way the rippling waves brushed against your curling toes. sweet orange and apricot filling your mouths like the sun spreading its orange and blush provenance across the aqua waters. lonely fingers fondle with your citrus fruits that you bought with wo shiny coins from a passing vender in a straw sunhat.

savoring the ocean blue and the sunny sky revealing the cotton white clouds that dot like dollops of whipping cream upon it. the sea breeze dancing with strand hairs, the topic of a greenhouse visit sparks and a sense of adventure rushes though bloodstream. within a matter of seconds you both race to hop back on the forget-me-not scooter.

inciting a school children challenge on who’s going to get there first and with the swiftness of putting your sandals back on and running against the mossy and dandelion cracked cobblestone had you seated on the bike. “I win,” you grin and of course Andy just gives you a fauxly hurt demeanor.

“you cheated,” you only hum back at his petty exchange, playing along for his sentiment until he sighs in his defeat. with the engine starting off you and him race to the glass palace that is the greenhouse.

a golden rimmed and sea mist colored empire, it stood out to you when touring the tiny city of colorful roof houses and marketplaces. mossy vines and leafy thorned shrubbery beautifully frame the interior pillars as rich golden sunlight fill in the glassy castle. cement molds create the railing for the lily pad and swan lotuses of the man made ponds. an occasional jasmine frog leaps from pad to pad as the milky pink and yellow koi’s swim about in the shadowy water.

exotic trees and wild plants bunch throughout the establishment, creating shade against the Apollo’s heavy rays as Andy lifts his head to marvel these large and tall works of Artemis. of course, with your polaroid camera you found in the rummage of your closet (that you haven't used since senior year of college) in a tight hold. wandering feet walk through the limestone pavement of the greenhouse, a sunflower in your hair that brightens the deep greens succulents and rich browns tree bark.

the vines of soft pink and purple flowers dangling from the glassy dome roof fall their baby pink petals as a breeze presents itself. some already settling in the brown tawny of Andy's hair, not far behind you smile at your face glossed in wonderstruck marvel. wide honey brown pools trail up the ten foot marble and ivory statue, reflecting in serenity cosmoses from the rainbows that spread from the crystal glass.

a sense of desire takes ahold of you as your slowed hands lift to trace your dark fingertips through the crinkle wrinkle of a marble maidens skirt. such detail and intricate design of the craftsman long ago must’ve took years to perfect, the cloth falling seamlessly upon the maidens body as her body crouches to run your clay hand again at the pond water. lifting your camera to your eyes, snapping your desired pictures that are set to capture all the whimsical aspects and elements that take your breath away.

Andy dares to draw near, it wasn’t like he hasn’t stood close to you at all- he might be making it hard on himself by overthinking ever move and step but you call out his name and his heart paces.

“yes y/n,” making his way to where you sit near a pond, you don’t say anything as you wrap the strap for the camera around your neck. fixing up your dress from any wrinkles from scrunching the hem up when dipping your feet in the sea earlier. checking your hair and make up in your hand mirror that you retrieved from your designer purse. an arched brow raises up at you, which you only respond by rolling your eyes and hand him the camera as you smile at yourself in the reflection of the ponds water.

“can you take a picture of me?” as you reapply another layer of gloss on your lips, the fishes swirling in the water to jump to the service to witness the beautiful nymph who have graced their pond themselves.

cupid bows perk at the fish and blow them kisses, your hands grab at a floating lotus before grasping the tender water blossom. putting it in the raven coils that delicately frame your face, damn it y/n.

it was as if you were torturing him with those mascara bambi eyes and glossy primrose lips, it makes his insides buzz and flutter like the malachite dragonfly that passes here and there.

“you telling me you want a picture or did you already decide for me yourself?” you only smack his chest with the camera once again.

“are you going to take the picture or not Barber? did you loose some of your magic with all that lawyer jumbo clouding your head or did you take those freshman photography lessons seriously?”

Andy rolls his eyes and takes the camera from you with a chuckle, “actually i’m still capable of using a camera y/l/n, god you’re making me feel old. go model for me,” you just laugh and run across to the other side of the pond.

soft skin from your legs revealed from the way your sundress lifts bends against your chest. head resting upon your knees while your arms wrap around them, the sunflower in your gasps and the lotus behind your ear. at this moment as the seconds turn into minutes Andy should be taking pictures, his eyes are looking through the lens as his index finger rests on the button.

with as much as single press he captures the greenhouse nymph but what good would a single picture do to capture every gift and grace you bestowed in the offering of your charm, beauty and heart?

it makes Andy's heart race, your eyes dashing from the godly statues that surround you to the camera. sweet music plays in deep cherry wood cellos and willow carved violins and even with the buzzing dragonfly it seems it found its favorite flower at the tip of your nose.

you certainly are the creation and waking of spring flowers and lovesick tales that took his heart then and its still yours now.

that single snapshot was all he could think about you two drove down south to the coast. searching back the drunk nights before where you and him ran into a little covelete whilst drinking goblet after goblet in the forest of olive and grape vine trees. it was a long ride but nothing suited the wait better than the man on the radio singing with his strung trichordo.

the hands that grip Andy's shoulder slide down to wrap your arms around him tightly when the minutes pass and the forest of green olives and sangiovese grapes. parking the scooter near the shrubbery of some innocent bush you and him look for the wine stash the both of you left in the abandoned cavern of an ancient olive tree. Andy grinning as he grabbed the expansive bottle and before you know it you both head to the hidden beach.

Andy didn't plan to actually go swimming, just settle the gingham blanket upon the finely grain sand and open the picnic you both prepared. and he also didn't prepare himself for the rosy blush to dawn his face when your almond nails grip the hem of your sundress to lift it up and over your head. revealing your matching bathing suit underneath its quick that you throw him a wink and race to the nearby grassy cliff.

"see you soon Barber!" you yell and as Andy gets up from the blanket to understand what you mean by that its too late. the summer air is filled with your laughter and sky rippling cheer as you jump off the cliff and dive into the cloud blue water. the splash nonexistent from your perfect swoop.

if only he had the polaroid on him to capture the way your smile gleamed brighter than the sun reflecting off the sparkling water the the way your eyes cutely scrunched like sand dollars under the warmth of golden sand.

the silver green of the olive trees emphasize the richness of your skin. the rich skin he couldn't keep his sapphires off as you laugh your choir laugh that would make Apollo cease his chariot to listen to the siren of Olympus once more. dancing in the turquoise waves of the coast, they crash against your soft mounds, curves, and dips of sun glistening hips and waist.

how could he have been so blind?

rage and anguish slosh around in his mind that pour melancholic rain onto his heart, you were there for him through thick and thin. a friend he believed but how could he have buried that yearn and longing for you all those years?

it's almost criminal to the highest degree and he'd know his side of the justice system but how could that distract him from you? his head was far too buried in those lawbooks to realize, too oblivious to his emotions when you'd date and hang around other people that weren't him. looking far into the looking glass hoping that his work would pay off in the future, meeting another woman and putting a ring on her finger.

now here he is, a divorced man but a still very much happy man. lonely at times with his only child in the custody of his ex wife but still very happy with the comfort and support of you. it was you who helped him from the tears at night and it was you who he wasn't scared to open up to. even the past few months he didn't realize it but now as you call his name to get in the water he doesn't hesitate to pull his shirt over his head and take his shoes and socks off.

joining you in the water in a mater of a few heartbeats, it was as if you were a sea spirit calling for him and even if you weren't he's happily obliging when the small waves collide against his skin. both your laughs rippling the ocean in this small ocean paradise, swimming in the richness of the present never would have guessing that throughout all these years you be here.

the salt water on your skin has dried as you and Andy walk side by side, your shoes rubbing against the gravel of the cobblestone paths as both you peer at the vendors and food stands arranging from rainbow scaled fish, fresh sesame seed breads, farm produced milks and cheeses, and vibrate fruits and vegetables. hands twined together in a firm hold, unfathomable excitement practically radiating off of you while you chat and giggle with Andy.

the topic of the conversation changing every few minutes when you find a stand that grabs your attention. curious eyes and wandering hands look over organic produce and homemade goods the people had to offer. the golden clutch of your purse being opened multiple times and Andy's mouth being stuffed with jam, cheese and fruit samples on the account of you. as you did you shopping he did as well, the ingredients for a sweet treat he had planned for you later on tonight are in a brown paper bag amongst your purchases.

of course he had to carry them all, not in obligation but because he didn’t want you to worry about shopping too much when you’re in the midst of enjoying your vacation. by all means he certainly wasn’t complaining, if anything he liked having you giddy and bursting with energy. practically dragging him from stand to stand and carrying your bags filled with stuff that you’d bring back home and try.

the village square where the marketplace takes place is tinted in an ambrosial hue, the sun now a glowing slice of grapefruit against the peachy pink carnation sky. lavender clouds that seem so close to grasp tower above you both yet they don't prevent the suns glow from capturing the beautiful soft planes of your face.

luscious and softer than the bouquet of sunflower carnations he surprised you with as you looked at the variety of sunhat options. one that you just purchased rests floppily against your temple but still doing its job at keeping you shaded from the suns glare. wrapped in a silky green bow, Andy smiles at how huge it is but it just makes you look divine and adorable in your sundress.

holding his hand tighter before tracing them up his forearm to softly grasp his bicep, it you who's leaning against him and pulling him close to you. the feeling of your body alongside his is warmer then any sunshine that seeps into his skin and lovelier than any of the flowers the market had to offer.

it’s hard to give you one excellent gift to give back all those years of commitment and loyalty and friendship but the way your lips spread in that enchanting smile it’s enough to make Andy know -despite the both of you not saying it- that you feel the same way to.

the bouquet in both your holds lifting up every once in a while for Andy to smell and for you to admire as you walk away from the noisy market. a little behind the village were the spring green of the countryside clashes within the stone brick city is a valley of flower arbors and hedge mazes. it was the last pitstop Andy the bags in both your hands settle down against the safety shadow of a maple trees shade and with a little laugh and an excited squeal he run to the flower arbors.

green rows of soft shrubbery dotted and laced in colorful blossoms stand in multiple rows upon rows look over of petunias and carnations. small apple and lemon trees in potted beds line up within the flowery hedges and no matter where you look it’s only the divination of spring and the gifts it bestows the Earth with. wooden picnic basket that was once used from your beach picnic is now empty but it’s quickly filling with the sweet smelling beauties of the flowers and fruits and you pluck.

Andy not fair behind you captures your wondering body in the still frame pictures of your polaroid camera. the pictures emerging quickly afterwards, he’s quick to fab them off and place them in your small picture album. turning your head over your shoulder your caught with Andy having the perfect opportunity to snap a picture that would be a bedtime story to tell with a child of his and yours.

it’s perfect and breathtaking, no matter the feeling of his heart thumping in its lingering hesitance you were the star that’s still continues to shine despite being out in broad daylight. it pulled at his heart strings because he knew what this feeling was, this feeling that he been avoiding to come to terms with all day but why was he so terrified?

the fear of rejection wouldn’t burst his heart but it would remind him that he was alone. a man like him wasn’t born to walk this Earth, wake to the sun and sleep with moon alone. the very presence of you besides him made him feel all the things besides lonely and bare to the universes cruelness at times. but maybe you felt the same way about him.

he only had one way to find out and he was set on keeping it, whatever sea he had to cross, valley he had to travel to and the plummeting ends to the Earth he will pronounce his love.

snapping another picture of you, you smile in it and with that he smiles to.

"realize what Andy?" you press on but in the rosy candle light his lips pressed against yours seems to be the only answer he can bring himself to conclude.

it's takes the breath out of your lungs and makes your heart blush and burn deeper and hotter than the tiny flames that decorate the cake. the roughness of his bottom lip that have been occasionally bitten the past minutes of dancing around your feelings. the nerve of you both to push aside your feelings for each other because the fear of breaking each others hearts.

if only your past selves could see you now, shedding your hearts and allowing the key to them to finally open the gates of vulnerability and yearn. the passionate lovesick mess tastes delicious against your mouths and you both could get drunk off it instead of the rose. sweet and inching for more as your lips part to graze against each other, but in order to seal the prophecy of established lovers Andy pulls away.

"that i'm in love with you. that i've always been in love with you. it's been years and i'm sorry for just realizing it now but I need to know if you feel the same way. please tell me now, please," he whispers against your lips.

now its your turn for our heart to skip beats and take in each and everyone of his words. fluttering eyes drowning in his copper blues, you open your mouth to say something but nothing but a soundless nothing comes out. all these years your love for Andy has been buried deep within you and you've tried your best to hide that seed. to plow in new seeds because what use was that seed if it never flourished when he'd feel the same way.

you don't realize until you feel the tear dripping down your cheek, he wipes it with his thumb. pressing a kiss where it once existed and it's now that you realize that it's always come to this. your lives weren't entirely paved in stone but the love that has a faith of its own is something that changes as the pages of a storybook turn.

this virtuous night being the newest chapter and as much as you're scared to follow along your heart has been waiting for this moment for so long. with those teary eyes that bring some to his own you smile and pull his face with yours, pressing your lips with his to mark your answer clear, to make him feel the way you feel.

"i've always felt the same. dear god Barber it took you twenty years and it all worked out didn't it?" you giggle against his mouth, feeling his grin as he kisses you back.

"what did you wish for?" he murmurs and you only smile and wrap your arms around his neck, "this,"

♡♡♡ thank you for reading! ♡♡♡ pretty please like, reblog and/or comment what you think and if you enjoy this follow me to read more of my future works! ♡♡♡

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[incarnateirony]

An anti dressed up as a shipper, an idiot, and a terf all walk into the same bar.

It’s the same picture person.

A lesson.

Warning: if the title doesn’t give it away, queerphobic content comes up in this from the other party being documented.

So, some of you may have watched a twitter exercise yesterday.

It started simple: concern trolling white knight “for the writers” comes in to angrily declare fans doing something tagged in support of them about Destiel was “out of line.” She claimed things like “Misha was gaslit into supporting Destiel”, and pulled all kinds of stunts.

She immediately got on a soap box yelling “I HAVE A LIT CRIT DEGREE, I KNOW AUTHOR INTENT” of course implying she knew better than EVERYONE around her how to read text. She then pulled, of all things, @chill-legilimens​​ ‘ article about the network gods gutting the show out of the internet, and somehow misread it SO FUCKING BADLY -- SO FUCKING BADLY -- she thought it aligned with HER. She argued that fans influenced the writers, essentially, and basically pulled the exact opposite of the very clearly delivered message there out. When it was pointed out we know this author and even sometimes help edit their pieces, and she was, flat out misreading it while bragging about how good she is at deciphering text, it turned into a SHITSHOW.

I had watched her give a large group of queer people 2 days of runaround, while they tried to be polite, and similarly tried to prove everything while she proved nothing. Just preached. After 2 days of them exhausting themselves on her, I came in doing my blunt & savage thing, because fuck civility culture when it’s used by oppressors. Of course, she immediately started tone policing, while herself being an arrogant shitbrick the whole way.

She continued to preach author intent and talk down about “headcanons.” You see, she knew the authors very well. Berens’ name was mentioned in passing, and she came back with. “Who’s Berens? Is that the author of the article?” after Deirdre’s name had been directly cited in associated with it about 15 times.

(credit: @judgehangman​ )

But it gets better. She started pulling the “authors have said Dean is straight.” line. Now, at this point, we had already sourced her at least four pieces of information (quite formally too: SPN Official DVD Collection Season 8 episode 13 creative commentary, Edlund and Sgriccia; Dissent Magazine The Attack Queers Bob Berens review; the books in the office with screenshots, and more.) So we issued one simple request: Okay. Source.

For the next-- I shit you not-- 10 hours she bricked the thread to death, finding any and EVERY rabbit hole she could try to venture down. For the first hour or two a few of us tried to actually debate her newly raised points, but still gave reminder that we were waiting for her source. Every tweet was an opportunity for her to drop a 15 tweet thread trying to derail onto a new topic, and often clarifying she had no idea about any of it (Edlund, Sgriccia, Berens, Dabb--who she couldn’t spell the name of--and Deirdre all became an amorpheous blob in her retelling that she swore she looked at sources and wasn’t convinced, while she crossed all the data and comments about the sources). She tried to challenge that anyone could know all the writers and episodes just because she proved she couldn’t, even when multiple people expressed it to her extremely rapidly with not just author and director listings, but cross references on when they overlapped and major elements (like the 15.20 shot 19 tree being the Kim Manners memorial tree). She randomly babbled about Kripke once. Lied her way through and claimed those sources were vague. Etc.

But at some point, I decided, we’re not playing this distraction game. You wanted a debate, you claim you have a lit crit degree, and thus know the entire art is Argumentation. A source, if you’re declaring knowing author intent. One source. Any time she dropped a distraction tweet, I replied to her thread with things like a list of our sources vs her lack of any and a reminder. I installed a counter ticker. How many times had she been asked to either recant her point or give a single source?

Someone made a list of the logical fallacies she used in the argument. It was two tweets long and still missed several obvious ones. That didn’t stop her. Neither did the dozens of requests for a source or a recant. Onwards, she marched, derailing time and again. She brought in a buddy to try to distract, but he fell out real quick when he realized “the burden of proof lies on the arguer” shot him and her both in the feet in record time and he ducked out. 

Other greatest hits came out like “Dubs (Dabb’s) fanfic books”, and calling the ability to list authors and episodes “headcanons.”

Over time, the dialogue shifted: see, she came in trying the snide “enjoy your headcanons��� downtalk, but as time and time again she was pulverized on every point about the show, or the authors, or anything else while STILL never even giving a single source to even her FIRST POINT and running distractions, it became a reality-- she was told, “We’ll enjoy our canon and author intent. You can enjoy your headcanon of... Dabb’s fanfic books and Lord Barons and the writers being collective hallucinations and whatever else in your hot takes about the show content itself” and she FLIPPED SHIT. 

As the ticker for sources approached 100, she started becoming flustered. Before that, even, she started repetitively misgendering Ezra (no tumblr to link in), and Ezra screenshot their bio of they/them and asked them to adjust. Ignored. Ezra linked this request and asked it to be addressed again, and again, and again. 13 times. Ezra linked it 13 times. She even replied to several of them. No avail. No change. Not until literally any and every tweet in her vicinity either had “source?” or “address gender?” for her to reply to did she flee there, and write some giant write-around of “oh, I didn’t see this, sorry” but still refused to actually use it. Or “I’ll use the right one now.” No, just completely strickened pronouns from her vocabulary with Ezra moving forward, after not one mistake, not two, not five, but 13 answers.

At this point, I notice a trend: throughout the entire conversation, she had flip flopped on my pronouns, clearly confused as to what to call me. As I generally don’t care (honestly I prefer he but meh), it didn’t ping me as something to react to while she switched religiously between “he” and “she”. But I realized now, despite all of that confusion: she never once thought to use “they.” Also earlier we found tweets of hers that, while now declaring herself bisexual, she used troublesome wording in the past to blur the line on if she was an ally or, as she phrased it “maybe less than 100% straight in the bell curve” in other conversations.

I mutter about this on the side to Ezra and some friends, but continue on towards the 100 ticker that was the goal to show people in this digital terrarium how disingenuous most people you argue with are -- an exhibit for the class. They know they’re lying and have been caught, but will not cede to admit “oops, I guess I was wrong.” but rather stick, unironically, to their own headcanons about things. After all, they vaguely sorta apologized even if suddenly just refusing to use any pronouns at all on Ezra after that. And she’s so quick to disappear into 15 tweet bombs of distraction trying to play victim for being held accountable at this point, we just didn’t jump to a conclusion on that, alarming as it is.

So. You know. Source.

At this point, she RANDOMLY starts evoking the fact that like, How Dare, She Watched Gay Men Die To AIDS, She Is A Great Philanthropist How Dare How Dare. 

I’m sorry, did you just evoke the blood of our dead to run away from the most basic scrap of accountability in what is literally the first wave of a lit debate because for the last 10 hours you have refused to take the necessary steps to move on to the next point? Did you... just... evoke the ghosts of gay men that were genocided to, essentially, pull up a smokescreen and run away from being party to queer erasure? Or even just? Giving a source? or admitting you were wrong on one point in a debate? Wow, you really just did that. 

Naturally, people involved got pissed. Her Sources ticker hit 100, but at this point, all that haunted her was how completely fucking vile and inappropriate that was in this discussion. 

She got blocked. She then tried to glom onto anyone that hadn’t blocked or muted her and run the same argumentation points she had earlier been decimated in the argument with, while yelling “I ship Destiel too! I wanted them to have sex too! Why does this make me the bad guy?” around the block and hoping nobody actually read the thread. She tried to pitch the “headcanons” point of view again, hoping a new audience would lick her boots. She was, largely, ignored; given a few more comments about her leaving the conversation losing all points and only covered in the blood of our dead she was so proud of; blocked by a few more. (unsurprisingly, if you check her actual tweet history, she seems more invested in Megstiel but)

This is when CommaSameleon -- a professor with two lit degrees and a primary focus in teaching the art of Argumentation -- literally -- stepped in. She initially tried to engage the fact that, well, this woman not only can’t argue out of a paper sack but wasn’t even arguing, she was just running in circles and distracting from all the points and hadn’t addressed a single lit point directly while preaching down at people. But Sam, also, noticed something. This woman kept changing things like “queerphobia” to “homophobia.” Sam mentioned this kinda puts off TERF vibes (I think Sam picked up on the gendering thing herself too.)

Her response? Which she deleted since? But Discord’s embed helpfully saved?

Her inacted non-apologies remain weak, especially in any form of debate be it lit or now queer topics.

Oh I’m sorry, let’s recap her viewpoints: TERF is a slur. “They” is made up and should be avoided at all costs. The blood of dead gay men are a token to use in a lit debate you’re avoiding responsibility in. After this, “authors are headcanons” is suddenly not your worst take, but fascinating that you 13 times didn’t even read the blatant ass screenshot. And I mean, these weren’t subtle or easy to miss these 13 times.

100. She had 100 chances, literally, on a timer, to give a source or shut up with her platforming until she had one. Instead, she chose every rabbit hole she could manifest to disappear into, only to be met by another request for a source, and not moving on until we address the first points. We’ve given ours, now you give yours. Instead, you choose this. This is the hill you choose to die on, rather than admitting, “Sorry, I guess I was wrong” or “I guess I heard that somewhere, my bad.” 100 chances. 13 direct QT requests to address gender which she replied to but didn’t reply to until cornered (and still didn’t, truly, reply to), and “TERF is a slur.” Oh, and after waving around the dead men’s blood she also suddenly Can’t Be A Terf Because She Adopted Two Trans Kids. Lord help those children. Or, you know, the more realistic thing is she’s just manifesting all kinds of bullshit at this point to save face, which is probably why she deleted all the related tweets that show she’s a giant-ass TERF.

So anyway, this is very much a lesson on:

Paying attention to how people manipulate conversation to erase genuine discussion and debate.

Paying attention to WHY they do it. Motivation on methods and tactics will clear up a lot.

Figuring out HOW they try to sound woke about shit and when it’s entirely fucking vile and inappropriate to pull

And by all above points, figuring out that these people are among us, and how NOT to let them influence your conversations.

I don’t care if it’s about a discussion on a ship or show or anything else. People do this. A lot. Extremely dedicatedly, if the 100 asks doesn’t make that clear. 

Stop letting people railroad your conversations with disingenuous bullshit.

So anyway in honor of this I made everyone a gif

Use at will. It’s tagged anti-terf if you want to use the search feature on it.

UPDATE: 

Just went and checked. She went and deleted literally her entire side of the conversation, hundreds if not thousands of tweets. Luckily, Ezra mentioned repeatedly -- and I do trust them inherently -- that they were saving the entire conversation, so that zip file exists somewhere. How fascinating, after she accused us that we would want to delete tweets. Someone realized they had a bad look and giant failure all around.

Also, a related anon that links to an earlier part of this conversation I didn’t even document where she was crying about “cis erasure” [x] This shit went on so long I legit forgot about that.

#supernatural #spn #destiel #anti-terf #debate

[shadowmayura]

I didn’t think I’d be doing this, but it’s gotten to the point where some things have to be said.

Someone from my past has been making vagueposts about me lately and I can’t allow it to go unaddressed any longer. They are disingenuous and at times downright false, and they imply a certain type of relationship that simply did not exist.

If at this point you don’t know exactly who and what I’m talking about, please scroll by. I’m not going to be mentioning her by name and I’m not here to drag additional people into this big mess. This is solely to address any misconceptions for those who have already seen this person’s posts and are left confused by the strange phrasing and missing information.

(TW: harassment, emotional abuse, stalking, vomit)

This person and I met online in the spring of last year. Soon after, she confessed to me that she had a crush on me. I wasn’t interested for a variety of reasons (distance, not knowing her very well, and a lack of attraction on my end) and I gently let her down but suggested that we could still be friends. At no point did I promise a romantic relationship with this person.

We got to know each other better as friends. For a while, it was genuinely fun. I did not harbor any romantic feelings but I did enjoy being her friend. But in the summer, we began to spend more time together, and that’s where it started to go wrong. In reality, it was gradual, but it felt very sudden because the realization that things had changed came all at once. Her flirting had become a lot more aggressive and she was implying to other people that there was something between us. Playful teasing had turned to something far more demanding, and we were talking to each other nonstop, up to 10 hours per day every single day. When I realized how drastically our interactions had changed, I tried to pull back. I became very uncomfortable with how much couple-like behavior had emerged on her side when I did not want to be in that kind of relationship.

My decision was met with a lot of resistance. She was upset at me that I wanted to cut back on the amount of one-on-one time spent together, and she also was upset when I took a week-long break from Discord as a whole. We had our first argument over this. I thought we reached an understanding, but at the end of the conversion, she expressed her need for significant quality time between us, leaving me feeling like I hadn’t been heard at all. It’s worth noting that I hadn’t cut her out entirely at this point. We were still talking almost every day, but we weren’t on voice chat for hours on end any longer. I just wanted interactions that were closer to a normal friendship rather than a romantic relationship that I had never consented to.

It got worse leading into fall. The flirting continued and escalated. She drew “friendship portraits” of the two of us with strong romantic undertones. As she continued to push, I drew back. She didn’t like this. I was met with passive aggression when I tried to set boundaries and put a comfortable distance between us.

September is where it reached a head. On September 17th, she coerced me into a video chat that essentially served as an intervention for my choice. I had a bad feeling going into it, but she insisted that we video chat rather than text chat. I reluctantly agreed under her false pretense that it would be a conversation solely about fandom matters, but within 5 minutes, she was crying on video. I became very uncomfortable and I continued to look at a document on my computer so she could compose herself. She calmed down, but as soon as I claimed to be done looking at it, she turned the crying on again.

For about an hour, I was berated. She was crying and yelling, not allowing me to get a word in edgewise. She was, once again, very upset with me that I had been pulling away from her. I desperately wanted to leave the call, but I knew that there’d be hell to pay later if I did. I forced myself to sit through the whole thing. When she was done, I was shaking. She expected me to speak but I was unable to form words for several minutes and I was additionally berated for not saying anything, even though I had already been cut off many times. When I was able to pull myself out of the state I was in, I told her that our interactions had become far too romantically-focused for my comfort and that I didn’t want her to flirt with me anymore. I then ended the conversation as quickly as I could.

I vomited several times after we hung up and was shaking for hours. I couldn’t sleep that night. A few days later, I lost clumps of hair. It is stress-induced alopecia areata that I’m still receiving treatment for. I don’t say any of this to garner sympathy, but I want to emphasize that this was not a conversation that I look back on fondly. It was traumatic. This unfortunately is relevant later.

At this point, it is safe to say that I did not want to associate with this person any longer, but this was not an option for me. There were fandom commitments that tethered us together, and I knew I’d have to weather out the storm. If I didn’t, I would tear friend groups apart, drop commitments that I cared a lot about, and potentially ruin both of our reputations in the community.

I tried to maintain some distance without angering her significantly, but it was all downhill from here. She continued to disrespect my boundaries and push me romantically. Flirting occurred less commonly in private chats since I would shut it down, but in public spaces, she continued to flirt with me, and I felt pressured to allow it in order to avoid awkwardness in group settings.

Her romantic interest turned into obsession. She became fixated on my Tumblr posts and Discord statuses, accusing me of referencing her when this was seldom the case. Jealousy arose about my friendships with other people. She didn’t trust me to make my own decisions with my friendships and disrespected my decisions when I made them. There was also a huge increase in emotional manipulation and guiltbaiting. Whenever calm and rational criticism of her behavior was given to her, she would exaggerate and call herself a terrible person so that the criticism would be dropped in favor of coddling and comforting her. It was impossible to bring up serious issues without her playing the victim.

She also became increasingly hard to deal with in a team environment. I often felt as if I was being disciplined for not loving her in return. My ideas were constantly nitpicked and shot down. I was condescended to. I began to feel unwelcome in group spaces because of these behaviors. I felt like she was pushing me out of public spaces in hopes that I would flee to private ones, though I tried to avoid that as much as possible.

In November, a flip switched. The romantic harassment almost entirely vanished and all her interactions with me became unkind. In some ways, it was refreshing because the worst of the stalking subsided, but the hostile environment was not easy to deal with. I retreated from fandom in order to avoid it as much as possible.

Finally in December, my fandom commitments finally ended, giving me the ability to end my friendship with her. Right before this, she spoke negatively of me in some public ways. One of these actions I cannot name here because it would reveal her identity, but it spoke ill of a community that I oversee.

The worst, however, was a fanfic that she published several days before I cut her off. She projected her and I onto the main couple of the fic. I was cast as Gabriel and she was cast as Nathalie. The further I read, the more sickened I became as the references became more overt.

Near the end of the fic, Gabriel and Nathalie have a huge argument. I was shocked to find exact quotes from our September 17th video chat in the dialogue of the fic. They were large sections of our conversation. At the end of their argument, Gabriel admitted all wrong and they make amends. As a couple.

I felt ill reading this. I still feel ill thinking about it. I hate that one of the most traumatic conversations in my life still exists on the internet for anyone to read, twisted into a scene that is meant to be read as good and romantic. I am reminded of all the harassment that I endured and I hate that that is a feeling I now associate with one of my favorite ships. There are other creators involved as well whose work has now been tainted by these real-world associations that had no business being in a fanfic.

After this, I cut her out of my life entirely. I was considering less drastic options, but this was the last straw that I knew we could not come back from. I removed her from several of my social circles and blocked her on all social media.

Before I blocked her, I sent a letter explaining in explicit detail why I would be cutting her out of my life. Despite this, she has recently claimed that she was never given a reason.

And that’s where we are now. My life has been more peaceful since December and I have begun to come out of my shell. For a couple of months she left the situation alone and that was fine with me. I was happy to peacefully coexist as long as I wasn’t having to interact directly.

However, my friends began calling my attention to recent posts on her blog that implied I had destroyed her mental health. Some of them have since been deleted. While I was willing to let the first one slide, these posts have increased in frequency while pushing an increasingly false narrative. I don’t enjoy the implications that I did something horrible to her by not consenting to a relationship.

I’m sure she will disagree with my take on things, and that’s fine. If she disagrees with my reasons with cutting her off, that is her prerogative, but I cannot allow her to claim that I didn’t give any reasoning when she did receive it through multiple channels of communication.

And I hope I haven’t gone a step too far in revealing that this person was in love with me. I debated not including it, but I’ve realized it’s an unavoidable issue that is central to the entire situation. At the root of it, I was romantically pursued and harassed. I cannot defend my reasons for cutting her off without disclosing the base motivation for the majority of her actions.

So that’s my story. I’d ask those who read this to please refrain from engaging in any harassment. This post has not been made with the intention to hurt her, as can be evidenced from months of me holding my tongue. I really did try to let her preserve her dignity, but I was left with no other options after being smeared multiple times. My purpose here is transparency.

I genuinely do wish her well, for both our sakes. I really hope that this will finally end her obsession and allow her to move on. But whatever happens, I refuse to be a doormat any longer in this situation.

#life of a corn #non ml #kinda #summary of the last 10 months of my life

[puffins-muffins]

Hi, please don’t judge me. 😬

Oh boy, okay. Middle-aged broad here using Tumblr for the first time. I just want a place to post my fanfic. I have no idea if I’m doing this correctly. I have no idea if this will be my only post or my only story. 

Many years ago I used to write *NSYNC fanfic, mostly Justin Timberlake centric stories, drabbles, ideas, etc. but just lost my motivation when life and my twenties got in the way.

Since we’re closing in on a year since lockdown started, I’ve re-discovered my passion for writing stories. I am currently in a Chris Evans rabbit hole downward spiral (mostly blaming quarantine & a Defending Jacob binge watch) so the first story I’ve written (since my awakening) is centered around him. 

It’s 99.9% fluff and .1% smut and I think there’s 1 language! word in there also. Edited to the best of my ability so sorry for any typos (I think this is referred to as beta’d?) 

Anyways, I hope anyone who comes across this likes it as much as I do. :) And if not, that’s okay too.

 Endlessly

The snowflakes fell gently on the snow covered ground. The sky was full of stars, brightly lighting up the night with the help of a full moon. The air was warm, but the slight wind cast a small chill to the already cold temperature. A tiny figure pushed a large ball of snow through the freshly fallen flakes, groaning in discomfort with every new push. She stopped to take a breath and looked behind her where he stood, an amused smile spread across his face. 

"Why aren't you pushing yours?" 

He shrugged casually, replying with a shrug and a smirk, "I got bored." 

"You got bored?!" 

"Is there an echo out here?" He cuffed his large glove covered hand around his ear. 

She looked up at him with wide eyes, "I've been pushing this big ball of snow for like...forty-five fucking minutes!! And you… you got bored?!" 

He pondered for a moment, then shrugged again. "Yeah, that sounds about right." He added with a nod, his blue eyes sparkling in amusement.

Sitting defeated in the snow, she crossed her arms over her chest and pouted, "You're the worst snowman maker I've ever known." 

"Baby, you looked so cute pushing that huge ball of snow, and all the grunting you did made it much more enjoyable.” He quipped, wiggiling his eyebrows. “I just had to stop and watch." 

"You are no fun, Christopher!" She whined.   

"Awww!” He threw his head back in laughter, nearly hugging himself in the process. “Come on. Your cute ass is freezing." He held his hands out for her to grab onto and he pulled her up, planting a soft, warm kiss on her lips. She smiled against his mouth as his thick beard tickled her face. Their hands entwined as she placed a few more kisses on his slightly warmed lips.

She pulled away slowly, planning her next move very carefully, "You know what, Chris?" 

"What’s that Elle?" 

"I like you better in the snow." She pushed hard on his chest, sending him crashing into a pile of freshly fallen snow. His mouth hung open for a minute, a shocked expression written all over his face. Noelle was doubled over in laughter and it only took a moment before his look turned mischievous and she knew she was in trouble. Taking a big hand full of snow, Chris hurled it toward her squealing body, part of it covering her coat, the rest flooding down her back. 

Noelle shrieked, giggling as she wiggled around, "Oh my god!! That's so cold!! You suck so bad Evans!" 

Chris’ boisterous laugh echoed amongst the secluded air as he hopped up quickly before she could retaliate. Noelle tried to throw more snow at him but he ducked away quickly. Instead, he grabbed her waist from behind causing her to drop the handful of snow.

“Chris!!” She squealed. He twirled her in the air as they both laughed, despite the coldness that stung their faces. A few more twirls and spins, making them both dizzy, he gently put her down. Slightly out of breath, Chris chuckled, pushing loose strands of her hair off her face and stared into her hazel eyes. Noelle smiled shyly, as his gaze lingered a little longer than usual and the way he was looking at her sent butterflies all through her body. “What?” She blushed, nuzzling her face into his chest.

“You look so beautiful right now. These snowflakes in your hair. It’s really cute.” Chris’ arms immediately enveloped her small frame and he let out a soft exhale as warmth flooded his chest, his stomach flip-flopping as he felt her arms return his embrace. He kissed the top of her head, sighing at the joy he felt so deeply in his body, "I don't think I've ever been this happy." 

Looking into his electric blue eyes, she agreed with a nod.  "I'm freezing. Why don't we go inside so you can warm me up?" Noelle added with a wink and a nudge. 

Raising his eyebrow, Chris led her toward the cabin, "Girl, don't go putting any ideas in my head." 

"Chris…" She stopped him by tugging on his arm, her voice was quiet. He turned his body around, his face showing signs of confusion. 

Until now, if he was thinking correctly at what she was suggesting, they hadn't been intimate with each other. Besides many make-out "marathons" as she liked to call them, most of their time together had been PG-13.  This was new territory for both of them, Noelle had spent a long time healing from her previous relationship.  Chris had been incredibly patient with her. In fact, this relationship was something of innocence for him, something he hadn't had with any woman in years. For Noelle, it had become a learning experience. Being with Chris taught her things about herself she never knew before, especially things about her body. He made her feel beautiful, strong, and sexy.  

This man standing in front of her was what she wanted, what she needed. She ached for him so badly. 

Standing on her tiptoes, her mouth made its way directly over his ear, "I want you to make love to me, Chris." She declared to him in a calm tone, although her body was shaking. Unsure if this was her nerves or the freezing temperature. 

Noelle stood at the edge of the bed, watching with a stare, as his naked body walked towards her. It was as if he had plotted every move in his head, and made sure to cover every step planned. As soon as her bare skin hit the sheets she knew her body would give in completely. It was time for him to show her, to leave her helpless to his touch.

He started slowly as his hands caressed every part of her body. His mouth left trails of wet kisses from her neck to her chest, over her perky, pink nipples, down to her stomach. He paused for a single second to swirl his tongue around her belly button before continuing his descent down to her inner thigh. Chris could feel the heat radiating from her most private of areas and he smirked to himself before he flicked his tongue out across her other thigh. She moaned at this, gripping the bed sheets to gather some control. His mouth teasingly made its way back to her swollen lips and he kissed her with such urgency. Neither one of them had ever felt this together, it was electrifying and they couldn’t get enough. When they finally parted their lips, they were completely out of breath. She looked into his eyes and could see the concern written on his face, even though he tried to hide it. His eyes scanned every inch of her face as he gently pushed the hair off of her forehead.

Her hands instinctively cupped his face, "I want you." She stated firmly, although hardly audible above her own heart pounding in her ears. 

He looked at her, unmoved except for the uncontrolled rise and fall of his chest. "Are you sure?" She smiled at him, shaking her head as a response, reassuring the feelings that flooded his body. 

Chris rocked his hips in motion with hers, his skin hot and silky as he pushed deeper inside of her. Noelle's mouth nibbled and bit on his shoulders and neck. Her whispered moans were lost in his mind until he heard his name slip from her mouth, then he began to lose control. His hands caressed and stroked her sticky breasts while she gripped harshly at his back. The only thing that existed at that moment was them. Their sweat-covered bodies moved rhythmically together in a room lit by a warm fireplace, cascading the two with a warm orange glow of passion and heat.  

Noelle's light sleep was disturbed as Chris's arm wrapped around her bare skin. She felt him bury his head in the crook of her neck and place two warm kisses one on top of the other, simultaneously pulling her even closer to his naked body. The thought of their night together planted a smile on her face. The feel of his fingers stroking her stomach caused a rush of butterflies to surge through her stomach all the way to her heart.  She turned to face him, "Good morning." She said softly, stroking his beard with her hand. 

"Mornin'." He replied smoothly, licking his lips and smiling a smile that matched hers perfectly. “Man, I kind of feel like a teenager again after that.” He let out a soft chuckle. 

She rolled her eyes and yawned, turning back over so that the pair were in a spooning position, "You’re so silly.” She let out a big yawn, “I'm still sleepy."  She snuggled herself into Chris’ body. 

As she drifted to sleep, she felt a kiss on her temple and faintly heard his voice whisper in her ear, "I'm in love." 

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans story #my first attempt #please be kind #fuck it here we go

[mysticalrunawayprincess]

Everything He Ever Wanted

Hi Guys! This is a new Jay Park fanfic I’m working on (because we are in a serious shortage and us girls need our fantasy fix!) Its about Jay falling in love and wanting to settle down, and all the headache and heartache that ensues (cue lots of angst, sexy times and love :P). I post the stories on Wattpad as I’m not sure if I’d be able to post the full story on here (Tumblr guidelines and stuff) but I am going to be posting the first chapter here and then every time I publish a new chapter I’ll post the links for you to read. The story is for 18ANDOVER! If you are not 18 this story isn’t for you (sorry). And Jay if you are reading this: its pure fantastical fiction! I don’t mean to embarrass or cast aspersions on you in any kind of way. If you are reading this (PLEASE dont lol), I hope I did your fantasy character justice :P. For the rest of you, happy reading!

Oh BTW: New Chapters every Friday, but you get this one a day early just because I love y’all!!! xxxxxxxxxx

1. Home Is Where The Heart was

An exhausted sigh left Jay's lips in a rush, as he entered through the  open door and dropped his bags on the heated marble flooring.

Having been away on tour for 6 weeks Jay had a lot of bags to carry; all heavy, all full of laundry.

He paused and took a breath in, savouring the smell of home, the smell of Her.

She  hadn't been home in a long time. This was no longer to be Her home;  hell it hadn't even been Her "home" for longer than a few weeks, most of  which she had spent elsewhere (or rather somewhere else). But since She  had been the last person in the house before Jay had left for the tour,  Her scent still lingered. And it was this scent that invaded Jay's  senses, coiling around his synapses and holding them at ransom as his  mind cast back to the last moment he saw Her.

Jay stood watching   Her leave through the polished glass doors of his office building, Her   words still ringing in his ears like a death knell, "We can't do this   any more Jay, I have to go back and live my life..." She took a pause   here, her perfectly soft and plump lips quivering momentarily, almost as  if to hold Her back from completing the sentence,"... and you have to live yours."

Now the thing is, when Jay first saw Her walk  through the doors; Her soft hair in which he loved to bury his face now  framing Her face in a twist-out that beautifully rippled in the light  breeze of the evening night air as She stepped through the glass door,  his heart had soared and swooped the same way it did every day since the  very first day he had seen Her.

His face broke into an  unstoppable smile as he outstretched his arms to embrace Her,   automatically breathing in Her scent as She stepped into his embrace,   clinging to him as though She would be otherwise flung into the furthest  reaches of space.

Jay hadn't noticed the shine of unshed tears  demanding to be released. He hadn't noticed the taxi outside, and he  certainly didn't know that it was taking Her to the airport.

He was oh-so blissfully unaware of  all of these little details.

She had been going back and forth with this for weeks, months even, ever  since  their relationship had first begun showing signs of becoming  more serious (unbeknownst to Jay). And try as She might, She knew this  couldn't work; there were too many moving parts, too many things to  consider and too many sacrifices to be made. She thought it best that  She end this now before it got too serious and whilst they were still  able to at least salvage some sort of friendship from the wreckage.

Noticing She was lost in thought, Jay nudged Her, asking if She were OK.

Now  on the way over here, She had already told herself  that She wasn't  going to cry and do the whole melodramatic stuff; that She was going to  keep it light and factual and hoped he would understand.

And so  when She quickly lifted Her head to meet his eye, Her face had already  settled into a bright and easy smile, belying the ton of bricks that She  was about to drop onto the smitten and unsuspecting Jay Park.

Now,  as he watched Her leave after begging Her to reconsider ("... you don't  have to do this..."). His heart beat harder with every step She took   to the waiting cab outside. He was frozen helpless, unable to stop this  series of Very Unfortunate and Fucked Up Events.

He watched the taxi drive away, taking with it the only piece of true happiness that he had ever felt in a long, long time.

And he had let it happen.

BZZZZZZZBZZZZZZZZBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

The  vibration of Jay's phone broke him out of his reverie with a snap. He  thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled it out, glancing at the  screen as he made his way to the kitchen.

BZZZZZZZBZZZZZZZZBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

He paused with his hand on the handle of the refrigerator, his thumb hovering indecisively over the phone screen.

BZZZZZZZBZZZZZZZZBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

He  rolled his eyes and pressed the green button, putting the phone to his  ear at the same time as he pulled open the refrigerator door.

"Heeeeeyyyyyy  bro, whatcha doin'?" the gravelly voice of Jay's business partner Mike  came through the phone as vivid as if he were standing in the room,  rather than 5,000 miles away.

"Hey, Mike" Jay chuckled. "Not much, just got back."

"How was the tour?"

"Yeah it was good. The guys killed as usual," said Jay, into an empty fridge.

"Did you get any numbers?" Jay could practically hear the Cheshire Cat smile on Mike's face as he asked this question.

He  sighed as he closed the refrigerator door and made his way to the  living room. "No I didn't get any numbers Mike" Jay said, plopping down  dejectedly onto his plush sofa, allowing his head to fall back, eyes  staring straight at the ceiling.

"Jay, you are really wasting your unlimited pussy allowance, man!"  groaned Mike. Jay chuckled in response, closing his eyes and wearily  raising a hand to rub them. "Dude you should be literally DROWNING in  pussy!"

"I'm too busy for all that extra shit, Mike." Jay sighed.

"Extra  shit? Dude." Mike was all seriousness now, leaving a pause so pregnant  that it caused Jay to sit up and open his eyes. "You are never, too  tired, for pussy!" Jay fell back into his original position, another  exhausted sigh leaving his lips as he landed except this time, he had a  little smile on his face.

Mike's dry humour was a welcome salve right now anyway.

"Plus, Jay; I'm married."

"I know Mike."

"So that means I'm living vicariously through you, my dude!"

"Mike-"

"Look,  forget about all that anyway" Mike interrupted Jay, sensing he was not  perhaps his usual playful self and wondering if he had perhaps struck a  nerve.

Mike was quite intuitive, even if he sometimes came off as  oblivious. In his world, he found that feigning ignorance can sometimes  be a better strategy around people, especially when dealing with the  types of sensitive and high-flying businessmen he was used to dealing  with on a daily basis.

Or when his friend had something - or  someone - on his mind that may need to be discussed away over copious  amounts of alcohol sometime in the near-future.

"Remember you  have the interview with Vogue Korea about the new AOMG site and app,"  said Mike making a mental note to revisit this again at a later time.

"Yeah" sighed Jay gratefully, thankful for the change in subject. "When is it again?"

"Friday. 9.30AM"

Jay pulled his phone away from his ear and checked the screen. The interview would be in three days time.

"Cool, my assistant already has the details anyway. I'll check my emails to see when the car will be arriving."

"Sweet. Hit me up later, so we can talk a bit about the Nike deal. But until then; GET SOME SLEEP."

Click

Mike ended the call.

Jay  allowed the phone to slide from his ear onto the sofa next to him,  bringing both hands up to gently rub his face before dropping his head  back and allowing his arms to drop onto the sofa back. The huge floor to  ceiling windows directly opposite bathed him in the light of the  setting sun, as he allowed his exhausted and aching body to sink deeper  into his seat.

As his mind drifted, he remembered a particular  evening spent on this same sofa during a thunderstorm not too long after  he had first met Her. In fact, there were many evenings he remembered  being spent on this sofa (not all of them as innocent as the particular  evening he currently had in mind however, but all of them just as  enjoyable).

Sharing one of those huge soft furry blankets that  She loved so much, with a low fire burning in the marble wood-burning  fireplace to the right of them.

She had been drinking Jack  Daniel's, and he had been drinking soju, both just talking to and laughing with each other in an atmosphere of comfortability, while   outside torrential rain pounded against the monolithic windows and   brilliant forks of lightening spilt the charcoal grey and roiling sky,   causing occasional rolls of thunder which reverberated throughout the   building.

The dichotomy of the chaos on one side of the window pane, versus the serenity on the other hadn't been lost on either of them.

Every  now again She would interrupt the freely-flowing conversation to point  out a particularly spectacular lightning strike or a close roll of  thunder would make Jay jump, which he would then try to disguise by  acting as though he was just moving positions on the couch or picking  up/putting down his glass (which She very politely acted like She did  not notice, or turned away to hide Her smile - which he had gratefully   appreciated).

Her being in Jay's house had been perfectly  innocent at the time, having being introduced through his artist Jarv  Dee, Jay had innately felt at ease around Her. She had an easy-going and  relaxed nature, with a quick wit and genuine smile. He became further  intrigued when he found out that She was a full-stack developer and  promptly discussed possibly working together on something some time.  Which is how the new AMOG website and H1gher app came about.8

That was exactly one year ago from today and 5 months from the day She ripped out Jay's heart and stomped all over it.

"We can't do this Jay..."

Her words echoed around his head like a death knell.

Jay  had spent every waking moment carefully analysing every detail of their  interactions - every facial expression, every vocal inflection - in the  hopes of being able to at least understand WHY She had done this.

Did he say something - do something - to scare her off?

How, when things were going so good between them, could she just end everything and leave so suddenly?

Jay  was aware that he was getting older but, he hadn't really ever thought  of what the future would look like for him and who he would want to  settle down with. The kind of jet-setting lifestyle Jay led meant he had  the luxury of being able to avoid thinking about such things under the  guise of being "too busy".  And with the fast life Jay led, the women he  came across had been just as fast.

That is until he had met Her.

Meeting Her had made him truly question his life dynamic, made him want to change his dynamic.

Made  him think about when would be the time to put down the mic for good and  step back to make way for the younger artists coming up behind him?

Jay  had almost single-handedly built an entire musical empire in a foreign  land, which meant he really had to think about who it was he wanted to  share that with.

A thought he had never needed to have before Her.

She  had awakened something in him that he had been confident was dormant,  something which he had convinced his concerned parents and nagging  brother he wasn't quite ready for.

She made him think more of the life after. After all the parties, interviews, world travelling, and screaming fans.

Of the life he lived when he was just Jay, the dorky kid from Seattle.

Who did he want to come home to? Who did he want waiting for him when the lights had faded and the music stopped?

The  morning after the lightening storm had been the first time Jay had  woken up to Her. They had fallen asleep where they sat in Jay's plush  sofa, having spent the evening bonding over their respective careers,  old 90s RnB and alcohol. Seeing her head resting upon the opposite  armrest of his sofa, the golden rays of the early morning sun  illuminating the golden undertones of Her skin, made something inside  him sing. He knew he liked having Her around, liked hearing Her voice,  liked knowing she was OK.

He loved being in her presence, hearing Her laugh, seeing Her focused frown whilst She was working.

He loved smelling Her, breathing Her in whenever he could.

He loved hearing Her footsteps on his hardwood floor.

He hated not knowing why it went wrong.

But  in just a few days the H1gher app and new AOMG website was due to go  live, meaning She would be coming back to Korea for the launch.

Meaning She and Jay would be in each other's company for the first time since Her departure.

Meaning Jay would not only have to face Her, but once She left he'd have to relive the pain of her leaving all over again.

Jay groaned inwardly.

This should be fun, he thought humourlessly.

Jay reached for his phone beside him and dialled an all too familiar number.

"Hello?" Came the answer down the line.

"Hey, is she free?"

"Good evening, Mr Park. Yes she is free. Regular timing?"

Jay let out a barely audible sigh, his 1000th in the 45 minutes he'd been home. He wouldn't need too long. "Yeah."

"She will arrive in 30 minutes."

Jay ended the call.

He  stood and made his way to his drinks cabinet, pouring himself some  Hennessey before walking over to the window to take a sip, surveying the  evening sky and awaiting his visitor.

The objective of the visit was purely for the purposes of release.

And as Jay's buzzer rang twenty-five minutes later, he knew that's all anyone who wasn't Her could offer him.

#jay park #jaypark #aomg #fanfic #angst #emotional #rapper queen #romance #relationship #series daddyvibes

[atths--twice]

After the Credits

Hello there! Today is the 20th anniversary of Hollywood A.D. and I thought I would post my fic set directly after that episode. I’ve posted it before, but with a link to it and not HERE. I was new to Tumblr and didn’t know how to do much. I’m still learning, but I know a bit more now and thought I would reshare it here. 

When I first started to write fanfic, I wanted to change the ending of My Struggle IV. I wanted to do it for ME, but others showed interest when I would make comments regarding what I was thinking, so I started writing it in earnest. It quickly moved to many stories and THAT particular story was posted months later, with many stories in between. 

But this story... this is my baby. I actually posted it near the end of April in 2018 so it’s the anniversary of the story as well. I love this story. It’s fun, funny, lightly angsty, happy, cute, sweet, and sexy--VERY sexy. I’ve written over 100 stories and this one still remains the number one read story. I love that so much as I had an absolute blast working on it. I hope you enjoy it. 

Chapter One  The Limo Ride 

Mulder and Scully spend the night after Hollywood A.D. putting Skinner’s credit card to good use. Fun times and hijinks ensue. Also, sex! Delicious wonderful sex!

They walk off the film set, hand in hand. Both still giggling over the absurdity of the film based so loosely on their lives. What a joke it has become. 

Mulder opens the door that leads them into the main studio lot. He holds the door as Scully passes, letting go of her hand, placing it on her lower back. The lot is busy with people hurrying to different sets. For a second, Mulder loses sight of Scully as a large group of people descend upon them. Dear god, it is a wall of muscly men, very scantily dressed, coming straight at him. Mulder stops walking and waits for them to pass. He has to close his eyes as too much muscled men skin bumps him on all sides. 

Scully turns when she notices Mulder is not at her side. She looks back trying to find him in the crowd of people. She sees him attempting to make himself physically smaller as the throng of half naked men squish past him. She feels a giggle bubbling up as she sees his eyes close, most likely holding his breath, wishing they would hurry. She starts walking back toward him. 

He opens his eyes and comes face to face with more flesh. This time of the female variety. About thirty exotically dressed women are hurrying past him. They all smile as they pass and a few even touch his arms or even his chest. He cannot help the goofy smile that comes onto his face. As they pass, he turns and watches them go. They look back at him, giggling and waving.  He looks his fill and then turns around, face to face with an eyebrow quirked and arms crossed Scully. 

“Coooo!” he exclaims as he stops himself short from plowing into her. “Jesus, Scully! You scared me.” 

“Hmm,” she says with a tilt of her head. “Yeah Mulder, I saw that you were a bit.. distracted. You see something that catch your eye?”

“Me? What are you talk? I was simply waiting for the onslaught of half naked men to pass by,” Mulder says, his face the picture of innocence. 

“Uh huh,” she says, rolling her tongue against her cheeks. “But the uh.. “onslaught” of half naked women was no trouble?”

“Scully, I am certainly not blind to the beauty of a woman’s body. Especially when presented in such.. minimal packaging.” Mulder says as he slides his hands into his pants pockets, a sheepish look on his face. 

She stares at him, eyebrow firmly in place. 

He looks in her eyes. Then down to her lips as he licks his own. Then he leans forward and whispers in her ear, “However, it leaves not much to the imagination. It is so much more titillating wondering what could be under.. say.. a business suit..or even a little black dress... and then getting to use your hands, lips, and tongue to find out.” 

He straightens up and takes a step forward. He hears her quick gasp of breath. He did not have to see her eyes to know they were dark with desire. He has been witness to it often enough recently to recognize it. He has seen it when he kissed her into a daze, when she has trailed her hand down his arm as they left the office- the silent invitation to come over. When he has made an innuendo and she can no longer simply ignore him. And his most favorite, when she looks up at him as he slides his cock into her. Every time her eyes are pools of desire from which he never wants to escape. He would gladly drown in them, if it means he could stay physically connected to her forever. 

She is still standing there, arms crossed, but trying to control her racing heart and breathing. God, he sets her pulse racing so easily. Truth be told, he always could. But now.. now his whispers and closeness are not pushed away and called up later in her fantasies. Now his whispers fill her ears as he trails his fingers down her naked skin. As he squeezes her fingers when they leave work -telling her he will be over later. When he stands so close she can smell him, when he brushes against her and it is as if an electric current passes through them. Imagination no longer is needed because she knows how the crook of his neck smells and tastes. The way his body feels on every inch of hers. She shivers and turns around. 

He has taken a few steps past her but has paused waiting for her to catch up. He is not looking at her, but he has his arm crooked out, knowing she will slip her arm through and join him. He waits and then feels her by his side. She surprises him and slides her hand down his arm and then laces her fingers with his, in his packet. 

It makes him jump in surprise. This is different, they have never done this before. It feels so incredibly intimate. Considering the amount of time they have recently spent naked and sated, this small act should not make his heart pound in his ears. Her small hand in his though, touching his thigh, so close to his groin.. god, he feels his cock start to stir. If she moved her fingers just a little, she might find a surprise. 

He pulls their hands out of his pocket and clears his throat, but keeps their fingers locked together. “So.. uh..” he says as he licks his suddenly very dry lips. “That uh.. credit card.. what did you uh.. have in mind?” 

He glances down at her and sees laughter in her eyes. Jesus, she is so beautiful. She is so happy tonight; her eyes are shining enough to light up a city. 

“Well,” she begins, her voice sounding like it did back in the studio lot; reminding him they were still young and alive. “What do you think about getting some food? That food at the cast party was a little too.. frou-frou for me. And, such small portions- such a waste of time. How about we grab a bite and maybe head to the beach?” 

She suddenly grabs his hand with both of hers and squishes close to him as more people rush past them. He feels her body press against him, her breast against his arm. Any thoughts he may have had, go right out of his head. All he wants to do is fuck her senseless. Food? He could take it or leave it. The beach? He did not care if he ever saw it again. 

If he is honest, all he really wants to do is go back to the hotel and spend the next twenty four hours with her-naked. They could order some room service, that was food, right? Christ, he has spent seven years not being naked with her and he wants to make up for lost time. 

“Scully, you know, they have this amazing invention called room service. We could order in, maybe watch a movie.. whatever.” He says nonchalantly, as if his only thought is not getting her out of her dress, seeing which panty set she had on tonight, taking it off and making her come on his tongue. 

They reach the street where the limos sit waiting. Scully feels so happy and carefree, she needs to do something. As much as she enjoys sex with Mulder, and oh god.. does she ever, she wants more than that tonight. She knows if they go to the hotel, they will end up in bed, no food, until they were both satisfied by each other’s bodies. God.. it makes her wet to think about it, and she almost relents. But, she wants to do something fun with Mulder that did not involve being naked. Spend some time in the California ocean air. 

She takes her hand from his in case someone from the film is out here and is watching. Turning to him, she looks up at him and motions for him to lean down. She stands on tiptoes at the same time and whispers in his ear. 

“Mulder, I want to get some food, take a walk on the beach. Do something fun with this credit card from Skinner. A non-work activity that we can remember and enjoy. But Mulder,” she puts her hands on his chest and trails them down to his waistband. “rest assured, you will definitely be coming inside me tonight. Hopefully, many times. And I am looking forward to coming on your tongue. You know how I enjoy that every time you do it. How wet you make me.” 

Mulder is breathing like a man who has just finished a marathon. As she steps back, she gives him a sultry smile and waves to the limo driver. He grabs her waist and puts his mouth against her ear. 

“Fucking hell, Scully..” he rasps hoarsely. “You don’t play fair. I don’t get to see how your body is responding, but mine is on full display. You’re going to pay for this later.” 

Now it is her turn to breathe hard as she feels her core throb. She feels herself get even wetter. She knows how much the dirty talk turns him on, just as it does to her. God, they have been mind fucking each other for years, no wonder they both get off simply from the other speaking. She had actually come just from Mulder talking to her the first time they had sex. He had not touched her. Just told her what he wanted to do, how he would do it, and how amazing it would feel when he did. After she had had a mind blowing orgasm, he had made good on all he had promised. Slowly and with immense care. 

He begins to straighten up and attempts to conceal his arousal, just as the limo reaches them, she whispers back to him, “You can’t see it, it’s true, but just know that I am positively drenched. It’s a good thing I decided to wear panties..” 

The limo driver stands there and clears his throat. Scully turns toward him with a million dollar smile. Mulder feels his knees actually go weak and he turns his back to the both of them. He is painfully hard and knows it is going to be difficult to hide. He takes off his jacket, commenting on the heat. He keeps his jacket in front of his crotch as he hears Scully and the driver discussing places to eat. 

“Mulder,” she calls in a voice as sweet as honey. As if she had not just told him she wanted him coming inside her later. That she wants to come on his tongue. God, she is a vixen. “What do you feel like eating?” Her eyes are dancing with mirth. She knows exactly what she was doing to him. He stares daggers at her. 

She is trying so hard not to laugh. She knows exactly where his mind has gone with that question. She smiles so happily at him, he smiles back. “Whatever you want is fine with me, Scully,” he says. He really does not care. If she is happy, then so is he. 

After some discussion with the driver, they decide on a Mexican place that boasts serving the best guacamole. Bonus, it is close to the beach. 

Scully climbs in the car and slides across the seat. Mulder slides in after her. He keeps his jacket on his lap, still keeping himself covered. As they began to drive away, she kicks off her shoes and he reaches up and unties his tuxedo tie. This one is worse than the every day ties he has to wear. He pulls the tie out of his collar and puts it in his pocket. He undoes the first few buttons on his shirt, then rests his head on the back of the seat, turning toward Scully. 

She has been watching him. He looks  so handsome in his suit, but watching him loosen himself from the confines of it, is sexy as hell. She recalls all the late nights, on so many cases, when he would sit across from her with his tie loosened and his sleeves rolled up. She sees him smirk. She knows he knows where her mind has gone. 

Two weeks ago, they barely made it further than her entryway, before they were on the floor engaging in fast, frantic sex. They had been on a case, a tough one. They had agreed to no physical activities while working. God, but it was difficult. This was still so new, it was hard to keep their hands off each other. 

He had walked her upstairs after catching all the flirty sexy eyes she was throwing his way. After they had walked in, she pushed him into the door and shoved her tongue in his mouth. Clothes had been ripped off, bodies caressed, completion achieved. 

After, she held him close, still joined, on the hard floor, uncaring and unwilling to have him move. She stroked her nails up his back and in his hair. Mulder had been surprised by her eagerness, but incredibly pleased. He murmured so to her as he lay on top of her, trying to catch his breath. She had given a low chuckle and told him it had been how he was dressed. His sleeves rolled up, his tie hanging down. All these years how sexy she found him when he had sat there with her, dressed in the same way. How she had had to stop herself so many times from climbing in his lap and fucking him senseless. Now though, she had said with a thrust of her hips, feeling him stir inside her, now she could do something about it. 

She breaks from her memory as she hears Mulder asking the driver a question, never taking his eyes off hers. “So, about twenty minutes?” 

“Give or take,” the driver replies  

“It’s been kind of a long night. Hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to close the partition so we can rest a little,” Mulder says, his eyes burning a fire into hers. He did not wait for an answer, just put the partition up. 

“Mulder,” Scully starts to say, but is cut off by his mouth on hers. 

He kisses her slowly, savoring the feel of her lips. He licks across her lips and pushes his tongue inside. He buries his hand in her hair as she shifts to climb onto his lap. She straddles him as their kiss deepens. He holds onto her hip and keeps one hand in her hair, anchoring her to him. 

God, she loves kissing him. She has spent so long glancing at those full lips, wondering how they would feel on her mouth and her body. Now she has access to them any time. He is  an amazing kisser, making her knees weak and body tingle. 

He breaks away, catching his breath. Then he begins kissing her jaw, her neck, sucking her earlobe. 

“Mulder,” she murmurs as she rocks her hips against him. “You need to move your coat.” 

His head snaps back and he looks at her in surprise.

“What?” she asks looking innocent and sinful at the same time. “Did you think you could kiss me like that and I wouldn’t want more?” 

“Thought about it, but didn’t expect it,” he says as he brings his hand to her inner thigh. His thumb stroking small circles, setting her skin on fire. His hand starts to creep up. Jesus Christ, he can feel her heat already. He pushes her dress up and his thumb brushes across her panties. God, she was not lying, they are drenched. 

She gasps when he touches her and throws her head back. He rubs his thumb across again and she whimpers. His other hand reaches for the zipper of her dress. 

“Mulder,” she says grabbing his hand from her zipper and bringing it to her breast instead. “We don’t have time for that. Fast, hard. I want you inside me. Move your coat. Get your pants open.” 

She climbs off him and stands bent over enough to work her panties off. He watches her with lust in his eyes, but does not move. Goddamn, she is truly the sexiest woman he has ever seen. 

She holds her panties in her hand and looks at him. She raises her eyebrows and looks down at his lap. He grabs his coat and tosses it without a care. He starts to struggle with his button and zipper, never taking his eyes off her. Standing there with her panties in her hand, knowing how wet she was, makes him incredibly hard. 

He finally gets his pants open. He raises up enough to pull them down over his hips, taking his boxers with him. His cock springs out and he grabs a hold of it, stroking. She bites her lip as she watches him touch himself. It is so hot, watching him do that. 

She had urged him to let her watch him one night. Watch how he liked to touch himself so she could learn what he enjoyed. Just before he had come, she had taken him in her mouth and swallowed every drop. Their love making that night had been hot and dirty. They said filthy things to each other and tried many different positions and places in her apartment. Scully had lost track of how many times she had come. It had felt like she had a nonstop orgasm. Never had anyone made her feel so wild and carnal as he did. He knew exactly how to touch her, to make her scream, make her wet, make her come.  It was like he had a guidebook to her erogenous zones. Even from the very first time, he played her body like a well tuned instrument. 

She steps toward him and straddles him again, her knees on the leather seat. She pulls her dress up to her waist, still holding her panties in one hand. Mulder looks down at her body as he continues to stroke his cock. He can see her pussy glistening with her juices and his cock throbs. 

She puts her hands on his shoulders and lifts  up higher and closer to him. He looks back up at her as he runs the head of his cock across her slit. 

“Fuuuuuuuck,” she breathes out, staring down at him. “Jesus, Mulder. Oh my god...” 

He pushes the head in as she starts to sink down. They both hiss at the contact. She is so wet, he slides to the hilt with one thrust. She sits flush against him as they try to control their breathing. 

She wraps her arms around his neck and places her mouth on his ear. “We have about ten-fifteen minutes before this car stops and we need to be presentable. Think you can make me come in about seven minutes, Agent Mulder?” She raises off his hard cock, her pussy slick and tight around him. 

“No, Agent Scully,” he says as he slams her back down. “I think I can make you come in five.” 

With speed and agility she did not anticipate, she finds herself on her back on the floor with Mulder still deep inside her. He begins to pound into her, her legs wrapped around his hips. He bends down and sticks his tongue in her mouth. He knows that she likes that. She had told him, the feel of his tongue in her mouth while his cock was inside her, made her feel like she was being fucked at both ends. She called him, after he had left one night, and told him how she had taken out her vibrator and fucked herself with it while thinking of his cock and tongue. He had stroked himself to an orgasm as she told him how it had felt. 

He strokes his tongue in and out as he did his cock. He feels her tighten her legs around him and her internal muscles grip him. He knows it will not be long for either of them. 

Scully reaches under his shirt and scratches her nails down his back, landing on his ass and pulling him close. She can feel her orgasm coming on. Christ, it does not take much. With other lovers, she had needed more.. everything. But with Mulder.. Jesus.. she seems on the cusp all the time. Seven years was a long time to deny physical needs, true, but it was more than that. They were connected in so many ways, that sex just added to it. Made it better. God.. so much better. 

“Three minutes, Mulder,” she says as she pulls her mouth from his. “I’m close... so close. Talk to me.. I need to hear your voice.” 

“Mmm Scully, three minutes is more than enough time. I’m close too. God, you feel so good, Scully. Every time.. so good. Do you need..” he trails off as he brings his hand to her clit. He starts to rub and she stops him. 

“I.. no.. just.. just..harder.. faster. Talk to me. Your voice makes me come. Your voice..” 

He swells inside her as he starts pounding faster and harder. He moves his hands down and cradles her head. He leans close to her ear. “Scully.. god.. I am so close. Oh.. god.. do that again.. yeah.. do you feel how hard I am? How hard you make me? Oh Scully.. you just got so wet. I felt it.. come on Scully.. come for me. One minute Scully. Come Scully.. come..,” he nips just below her ear as his thrusts became faster and sloppier. 

Scully scrapes her nails up his back and digs them in his shoulder blades. She cries out as his words bring her over the edge. She feels herself coming and him right behind. He keeps thrusting as he empties himself inside of her. He kisses her again as he feels her pulsing and releasing around him. She is humming against his lips, her body thrumming. God, he is so good at this. So good. A couple more thrusts and they are still. 

Mulder raises his head and looks at her. Her eyes are closed and she has a happy smile on her face. 

“Time’s up, Scully,” he says with a smile of his own. 

She opens her eyes and chuckles. “Five minutes on the dot, Mulder. You’re good.” 

He wiggles his eyebrows at her as he begins to pull back and then out of her. On his knees, he looks around and finds some linen napkins. He wipes himself off and then pulls his boxers and pants back up, but does not button them. He then turns and uses the napkin to gently wipe up Scully. He reaches up and takes her panties out of her hand and moves to her feet to slide them back up her legs. They are still damp, but better than nothing. 

“Up,” he says as he got them to her hips. She lifts her hips and he slides them into place. He pulls her up and pulls her dress back down. She feels weightless and blissful. She reaches over and starts tucking Mulder’s shirt back into his pants. 

“I can do that,” he says, as he moves her hands away. She turns and grabs her shoes as she sits down. She slides them on as she watches him tuck his shirt in and button his pants. He puts the napkin he used on them in his pocket, planning to throw it out when he found a trash can. He looks at her and they both grin. She smoothes her hair and starts to take out her headband. 

“Leave it,” he says, reaching for her arm to stop her from removing it. “You look so adorable with it on.” 

She smiles again and leaves it in place. He picks his jacket up and puts it back on, no longer needing to hide his erection. 

She rolls the window down, telling him to do the same. “It’s stuffy.. and it smells like sex in here,” she says as he gives her a questioning look. He nods his head, smiling, obliging her as he sits next to her. She reaches over and locks their fingers together. 

“Thank you,” she says in a low voice. “That’s one..”

“One?” he asks her, confused as he rubs his thumb across the inside of her palm. 

“Of many,” she says nodding, watching his thumb. 

He looks at her with a frown, not understanding her meaning. The limo is beginning to slow down and he turns toward the window. She tugs on his hand, silently asking him to look at her. “I told you earlier..” she leans close, kisses his cheek, and whispers in his ear. “You will hopefully be coming inside me many times tonight... so.. that’s one..” 

She sits back, smiling sweetly, keeping her eyes on him, as the limo stops completely. He leans in and kisses her softly. “In that case, I promise it’s not the last of the night.” 

The door opens and he pulls back from her, reaching for her hand to step out of the car. 

#Hollywood A.D. #sexy times #limo sex #happy #new relationship #discovering things about one another #putting that bureau credit card to good use #not exactly what Skinner had in mind

[ladyfawkes]

Stop Calling Him ‘Horace’! - Eugene Fitzherbert Appreciation Week | Day 7: Birth Day

Sooooo.... Basically, I planned to have this pretty little fanfic finished up for today, the final day of Eugene Appreciation Week. This fanfic is extra-special, specifically it features our Eugene at ages we’ve never seen him in canon. Allow me to sum up this “plan” of mine in one word: HAAAAA!!!! Suffice it to say that although fanfic is very old-hat to me (I’ve been writing it since 1991, fgs) the world of fic-blogging is still relatively NEW to me and several of my fics and headcanons that I’ve released the past several weeks are needing to connect and soon, otherwise the whole convoluted, many-headed Medusa won’t wind up making any sense at all. I’m not exactly certain how it’ll all come together yet but I have to say that getting to spend the past week with all of you fellow Fitzy enthusiasts on Twitter and Tumblr has been some of the BEST DAYS EVER that I’ve experienced on the internet in my entire online life!!!! (And I’ve had an internet presence since 1991!!!) You’ve injected me with serious shots of Inspiration Elixir and I’ve had soooo very many ideas pass through my mind just over the past 7 days that I can’t possibly hope to catalog all of them. I haven’t felt quite this inspired in, well, YEARS.  I’ve enjoyed the heck out of sharing and exchanging headcanons, theories, ideas, essays, and even artforms. I’ve had a Tumblr account for more than ELEVEN YEARS and yet this is the first and only time I have consistently blogged and reblogged over the “heart-stopping” a time-span of 7 months **gasp** now (and counting). I’m a member of a couple dozen fandoms at least and this is the ONLY ONE that has consistently captured my interest AND managed to not scare the shit out of me so badly that I have to go and hibernate my account for the next, y’know, 3498349540 months. Until yet another worthy obsession captures my interest..... but Tangled the Series is still burning the brightest and I REALLY need it to right now, tbh. So THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU to everybody with whom I’ve interacted on this....I have health issues that cause me to transpose and forget names. But if you wish me to personally tag you, please tag THIS particular post and I shall tag you when I have actually finished this particular scene sequence featured in THIS ficlet. So now!!!!! Without further ado, I shall give you a teaser of the drabble-turned-ficlet-turned-short-story that will eventually feature the actual Birth Day of one Eugene Fitzherbert!!! Click the keep reading link below to see the remaining text. =)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Edmund knew from the beginning that Alexys did not like the name “Horace”. At the time, the king had told her that it was family tradition that the first-born son should receive a strong family name. Despite her pointed protests, he was utterly immovable on the subject.

The more Alexys’s belly grew, the more her dislike for that name swelled too. Shouldn’t she have a say in their child’s name, given that she was putting in all the work of keeping him healthy and strong, so to speak? Shouldn’t her family names count as possibilities too? Unfortunately, Edmund’s childhood largely consisted of his father and grandfather basically hazing him into believing that he had to “take command” of virtually any subject matter, in practically any situation. As a result, he thought of just about everything in militaristic terms. Over the past 4 years, Lexy had slowly and subtly molded her hot-headed young 20-something husband toward different healthier, less uptight ways of handling life and looking at various situations.

They had finally settled on a great couple synergy and got along very well -- except for the times they had an ongoing argument, that is. And this was definitely one of those times.

“I don’t understand why you won’t see reason, Edmund!”

“Because it’s more than just a name, Alexys! It’s a birthright. It connects him directly back to us and these names might very well be the most important gift we could ever give to our children!”

“You don’t think I know that?? Just as sure as I know this child is a boy, I am equally certain that he will not live a traditional royal life. And his name must reflect that!!”

Apparently, entertaining the possibility that any son of Edmund’s wouldn’t want to grow up a devoted soldier completely servile to the Moonstone wasn’t a possibility he was ready to face. Alexys watched as Edmund drew in a long breath, held it, his face turning interesting colors. Slowly his hands balled into fists and rather than saying anything, he exhaled one very pent-up breath and stomped out of the room. She had never before seen him so agitated. Although she also sensed the naming subject wasn’t at the core of his ire that day, she never brought it up again. Alexys hoped that whatever it was eating at him, Edmund would be able to solve it by the time their child came. And that would happen any day now.

Alexys wanted so much to tell Edmund about the beautiful vivid dreams she’d been having about their future child the past few nights. But he’d been increasingly preoccupied, sullen, and distant over the past month. It was most unfortunate and Alexys was as yet at a loss of how to help him. Now....while it’s true every good mother believes their child to be exceptional, Alexys knew that their son was destined to shatter tradition. For the first time in millennia, she knew without doubt that he would be the one to bring light to the Dark Kingdom. 

One of her dreams began with a small boy, age 4 or 5, who had floppy brown hair and very expressive round eyes just like Edmund. In the dream, Alexys and the boy were standing on a trail near the edge of a narrow rock crevasse....a location that somehow seemed familiar to Lexy....but she couldn’t quite place it. The little boy smiled up at her cherubically and reached out a chubby little hand toward hers.

“Play?” he questioned sweetly. He was happily bouncing on his feet, very subtly heel to toe, and even when he was in one place he barely stood still.

“Yes, of course!” Alexys replied, grinning in awe at this absolutely beautiful dream-child her mind was currently conjuring. She gathered up her long skirts and petticoats in her left hand and took the little boy’s offered hand in her right. As they walked, she noticed a small mole at the base of the boy’s neck and it matched exactly the one that Edmund had, only in miniature. So her suspicions had been confirmed; this was indeed their son.  They approached what Alexys recognized to be a very-scaled-down version of The Great Tree....and the crevasse was apparently a much-scaled-down version of the gorge which held the actual Great Tree. Even though it wasn’t the real Tree, it still possessed a very substantial and robust trunk. It was about 30 feet high and could easily withstand the weight of a couple dozen grown adults, if they ever had the inclination to climb this dream tree from within my own mind, Alexys thought wryly. As they reached the ground level of this miniature Great Tree, the little boy let go of her hand and latched onto the tree base itself. He turned back to her and said, “Play?” again while pointing upward. Bounce, bounce. Instantly, Lexy’s mothering instincts came out. “Uh, little one, I don’t think it’s safe to climb--” but it was clear the little boy wasn’t really listening to her. And even faster than a real toddler could climb, he scrambled up and out of her reach in a flash, giggling with childish abandon. She kept pleading with this child to stop and to come back down instead, that he might get injured, but he clearly had no intention of heeding her. Not only that, she didn’t even know his name. One thing was certain -- he definitely did not answer to ‘Horace’. Poor Alexys hoped this nightmare of a fearless toddler wasn’t an omen of things yet to come.  She fleetingly considered just tearing off her petticoats and skirts to climb and then realized it wouldn’t matter anyway; she was nearly nine months pregnant and thus not climbing anything that day. “Look!” She suddenly heard the little boy’s voice again. This time, he was speaking from some 30 feet overhead through the tree boughs. Alexys moved away from the Great Tree’s base to a better vantage point further out from the trunk. Shielding her eyes from the sun, the queen looked up at the tree to see that the little boy was now pointing out toward the opposite direction of the crevasse from where they originally came. In the distance, she could see what looked to be a miniature version of the impassable mountain range between the Dark Kingdom and the Great Tree. Just beyond was Black Crystal Valley and in the center of the valley, an exact copy of The Dark Palace, only much smaller. What happened next was nothing short of absolute surreality on toast. “Look!” said the little boy’s voice again, still giggling as he climbed even higher until it looked like he was physically standing on the canopy leaves of the fake Great Tree. Lexy’s breath caught in her throat as this little boy reached up and plucked a literal piece out of the sun -- yes, he plucked a PIECE out of the actual SUN -- straight out of the actual sky. The light emanating from the Sun and the Shard he had in hand didn’t seem to be affecting the little boy the way it was affecting Alexys. She was shielding her face from its overpowering brightness when suddenly, the little boy wasn’t in the tree canopy anymore. In the blink of an eye, he was standing miraculously in front of her. Alexys blinked incredulously and tried not to yell aloud in shock due to being so startled. She failed at not yelling, but at least the little boy didn’t appear to notice. Next, this little boy held out the Sun Shard toward Lexy. He must’ve done something to help it because now she could look toward its brilliance without being blinded.  “You can finally see my friend!” her boy said happily. Bounce, bounce. “We hug her!” he continued, holding the glowing object against his heart, rocking back and forth a few times. “And we kiss her,” and he gave the Shard his sweet toddler kisses. “And we be very soft,” he toddler-whispered, demonstrating deft touch through voice as well as action.“Now you!” he insisted, his pudgy hand offering the Sun Shard to her. Bouncy, bouncy, bounce. “I -- I don’t know. Won’t it burn me?” This dream had already gone so warped, she didn’t feel too weird for asking. Lexy was somewhat concerned with accepting the offerings of a toddler but he didn’t appear to be covered in slobber or any other mystery substances, thank goodness. Neither did the Shard. “Burn you?” the child echoed. He suddenly burst into giggles and said, “Silly Mama.” Lexy’s breath caught in her throat. Mama. He actually said it! How her mother’s heart fluttered. This….this interaction required something extra special. She oh-so-carefully got down on her knees (no small feat in her condition) so she could be level with her son. “Yes, your mama can be very silly sometimes,” Lexy acknowledged. Then she pointed toward the Shard in his hands and said, “Will you show me how?” Instantly, he came to her and passed the precious glowing object to Alexys. “Hold her here,” instructed her little boy, pointing toward his heart. Lexy was surprised to discover that the Shard wasn’t a shard at all -- and while it was very warm to the touch, it wasn’t burning hot. Pliable with only mild bit of give to it….rather like warmed sealing wax without the tackiness. Upon tucking the glowing object next to her bosom, Lexy looked upward at her boy and said, “and now I…” “Cradle,” followed by his rapid rocking back and forth motions. Bouncy-bounce bounce.  “Of course,” smiled Alexys, who had arranged both her arms to cradle this golden drop of sunlight. “Is that what you are now? Not a Shard -- but a Drop of Sunlight?” She was now talking to this object but again didn’t feel one bit silly for doing so. It seemed….alive, somehow. Slowly, carefully, she rocked back and forth while on her knees. “Sing, mama!” prompted her little boy, who was excitedly bouncing on his toes and clapping his chubby hands. A time-honored German lullaby sprang to mind and as she sang the words, the longer she sang, something rather remarkable happened. As Alexys looked down in her arms, she could’ve sworn she saw a ghost of an image, not more than a sparkling golden shadow really, of a completely different child in her arms. Only this child was much tinier and younger than the boy. This was an infant, a baby girl, one with remarkably long flowing golden hair. She appeared to have even more hair than her toddler son. By orders of magnitude more. Disembodied babygirl giggling and babbles filled the air around them. “You see her now!!!” Her little boy was more excited than ever! He clearly knows! Lexy could hear the rhythm of his feet in front of her. Bounce-bounce-bouncy bounce-bouncy-bounce. Alexys was afraid to look away, lest the wispy golden dust in her arms blow away before she could get her fill. “Who is she?” questioned Alexys in awe. “She is our friend. She is….Sun...shine. Yes. Sunshine,” the boy confirmed, tilting his head to one side as he spoke, as if he were listening for something only he could hear. ......to be continued!!!!......

#Eugene appreciation week #Eugene Fitzherbert appreciation week #fanfiction #fic #ficlet #WIP #eugene fitzherbert #dark queen #king edmund #ladyfawkes eugene fanfiction #ladyfawkes fanfiction

[ashes-and-ashes]

Could you do a Wolfstar fic when Sirius runs from home and goes to the Potters' and James calls Remus to calm him down. (P.S Love you and your writing. Hope your wrist heals soon 💖)

Hey! Got a bunch of requests for a Sirius Running Away From Home thing, so I wrote it!! I worked pretty hard on this, so hopefully you like it! Just a note: this story is split into 3 parts (this is part 1.) Part 1 is from Sirius’ POV, Part 2 from James’ and Part 3 from Remus’. I’m going to put Part 1 on Tumblr and Part 2 and 3 on my Ao3 once it gets set up. Hope you like this!!

And yep! This is the fanfic that I worked on AND GOT DELETED BECAUSE TUMBLR IS AN ASSHOLE!

@blackpinkdolan @withrewings @iluvharrypotter172 @blitheringmcgonagall @of-stars-and-moon

tw for abuse, homophobia and violence.

That Fateful Night

~

He’s curled up in the corner, the wall cool against his back. Half-awake, almost unconscious, pressing himself into the cold stone.

Dimly, he can feel blood pooling around him.

Sirius doesn’t know how long he’s been there. The house is quiet, the silence heavy and suffocating, his ragged breaths echoing against the walls. A tomb, compared to the shouting and the screaming and the roaring that had filled the room earlier.

He wasn’t sure what had happened. He was in his room, writing a letter to Remus, when he heard the shouting.

“You! Get your worthless ass down here!”

He rushed down the stairs, to find Regulus pressed into the corner, his father lounging on one of the armchairs, his mother at the kitchen table.

She was furious, her rage filling the room, and instinctively, Sirius stepped forward, in front of Regulus, blocking him with his body.

He clenches his teeth against the memory, taking a shuddering breath. Something cracks, deep inside of him, and he winces, pressing a hand to his ribs. It wasn’t the first time Walburga had broken something, and he recognizes the sharp, burning pain that fills his lungs as he struggles to take another breath.

He was used to pain, had been subjected to it ever since he was born. He knew how to handle it, how to clench his teeth and bite his lip and how not to give in. He does this now, one hand braced against the floor, the other against his ribs. Tears burn in his eyes and he blinks them away, furiously, clenching his jaw as he pushes himself up.

He bites down hard, to muffle the scream that almost comes out of his throat. Not now, not now, he thinks, please not now, please don’t let me wake mother up. With a muffled groan, he sits up on his knees, one hand against the wall.

He laughs, a silent, sardonic sound. He thought he knew pain, thought he could take it, but nothing was as painful as seeing those letters.

He closes his eyes, bile burning his throat. He had stepped in front of Regulus, his mother scoffing at him.

“Pathetic,” she said. “Soft, weak-minded lout.”

Fuck off, Sirius had thought, making sure he covered his little brother’s body with his own. He didn’t say this, though, just bared his teeth and hissed, “What is it now, mother?” The last word was spat out, like a curse, years of hatred and anger and neglect filling his voice, bitter and mocking and defiant.

Walburga had said nothing, just pulled a stack of papers from her pocket, dropping them on the table, the sound echoing in the dark room.

And he’d never known fear before, not like this, the panic and the dread and the nausea that settled into his bones. He was frozen, the feeling rising up inside of him, something burning in his throat as he read the oh-so familiar handwriting on the side: To Sirius.

He glanced up, tried so hard not to let his mother see that raw emotion that he felt, threw up that wall between them. He shifted, adjusting his body, another barrier between her and Reg. “What the hell is this, mother?”

There was a sharp cracking sound, Sirius’ head hitting the wall behind him. His lip had been split open, blood trickling down his chin, but all he did was roll his head back and stared at Walburga, her wand still smoking from the spell she had casted. “Going through my mail now?”

There was another crack, hitting him from behind. He turned, his father’s wand pointed directly at him, his side burning. “Do shut up, Sirius.”

He just laughed, met his mother’s stare. “Anything you want to say?”

Walburga clenches her jaw. “Who. The hell. Is Remus?”

His heart pounded, but Sirius just gave her a small smirk. “Like I’d tell you. What more can you do to me? I’m used to it now.”

He saw the spark in Walburga’s eyes, the way it fell on Regulus, and Sirius shook his head. “You’re not touching him.”

He felt Regulus shaking his head, his movements frantic, and Sirius pressed him harder into the wall. “Don’t you dare touch him.”

Orion was on his feet now, wand pointed at Sirius as he said, “Step away.”

“Like fuck I will - “

BANG.

He heard Regulus’ screams, felt the blood run down his leg, and Sirius swore. He turned around, noticing the long gash on Regulus’ side, leaking blood on the ground, panic filling his gut. “What the fuck did you do to him?”

Walburga just laughed. Pain started to fill his side, and Sirius dropped his hand down. With a jolt, he realized what she had done.

She had shot Regulus right through Sirius’ body.

There’s another bang, and Sirius was thrown aside. Walburga held his gaze, her wand pointed at Regulus. “Who is Remus Lupin, and why are you writing him.”

Sirius was breathless, dizzy with pain. “Go to hell.”

There’s a smile on Walburga’s face as she lifted her wand. “Incendio.”

And Regulus was screaming, flames licking over his skin, screaming and screaming and screaming.

The sound Sirius made ripped his throat apart. He lunged forward, wanting to tear Walburga apart, when a sharp yank sent him sprawling. His father stood there, glass of wine in his hand, laughed over Sirius’ roars and Regulus’ screams. Walburga had just shrugged. “Who is Remus Lupin, and why is he writing to you?”

He barely had time to catch Regulus’ head shake before he was screaming again, edged with sobs that made Sirius want to rip his head open -

“He’s a friend from school.” The words bursted out of him, anything to stop the screams. “He’s in my grade, Gryffindor like me. One of my closest friends. Now let him go.”

Walburga had shaken her head. “Why is he writing to you?”

“We’re just friends - “

The wand fell, Walburga turning back to Regulus as Orion frowned. Sirius clenched his jaw, threw up mental shields because he knew what was coming.

The pain felt like his head was split open, Orion digging through his consciousness with sadistic pleasure. He gritted his teeth, tried to counter-attack, tried to throw him out, tried to block out Regulus’ screams -

“I’m dating him.” He spat the words out, clenched his fists. “I’m dating him.”

The room was silent, filled with lethal wrath as Walburga turned towards him. “What did you say?”

He swallowed. “I’m dating Remus.”

“Dating...?” The word broke off, by Walburga’ soft laugh. “Why does that surprise me? I should have known, you being a selfish little fucker.” She bares her teeth. “Should have known you’d be a fag as well.”

Then the wand fell, pain exploded over his body, and Sirius started screaming.

He clenches his teeth now, the agony still holding over his body. He’s shaking, his nerves overloaded by Crucio, sores on his mouth where he’s bitten through flesh. He doesn’t know how bad it is, can feel nothing but waves of pain move up and down his torso.

Sirius reaches forwards, wrapping his fingers around the iron rail of the staircase. He needs to get to his room, get to his wand, heal his ravaged body and figure out what to do. He grits his teeth, glancing up the enormous staircase. This was going to hurt.

With a small grimace, Sirius pulls the handrail, pushing with his other hand, managing to get his knee on the stair. He’s trembling, waves of nausea filling his body, muffling his scream against his shoulder as he pulls the rest of his body onto the stair, curling up into a small ball.

He pants, smiling bitterly. 27 left to go, he thinks, reaching forward for the next rail.

When he finally reaches the top, he’s shaking, sweat dripping down his face. There are score marks across his palm, from where he’s pulled the flesh against the metal, his entire body aching. He bites his lip, carving bloody furrows into the gum, clenching his fists.

It’s almost too much, dragging himself down the hallway, muffling his whimpers against his arm. He wants to sob when he gets to his bedroom, thanking God that he left his door open.

He crawls into his room, kicks the door shut, and for a moment all he can do is gasp, letting the agony wash over him. He collapses on the floor, trying to steady his breathing, the pain obliterating all rational thought and where is my wand -

“Fuck.” It hurts to speak, but Sirius does it anyways. He sees his wand, on his desk, right in the middle. His heart stops, panic filling his gut because it was so high up and God, how can he reach that -

He bites down, hard, not giving himself time to think before he stands up, quickly, skin tearing, pain ripping through him. Blood explodes in his mouth, his ragged breathing filling the room, and he stumbles back, against the bed, letting the pain wash over him. He catches a glimpse of himself in his mirror, all bleeding wounds and broken skin and shattered eyes.

And he’s sobbing, like he’s never done before, sobbing through tightly gritted teeth, legs stretched in front of him. He’s 16 years old, 16, and he’s been tortured and beaten and hurt so badly, and he’s trying so hard to keep it together.

“I can’t do this.” He gasps the words, hyperventilating. “I can’t do this, I can’t...”

With a stifled sob, he places the tip of his wand against his ribs, wincing at the pain. “Episkey.”

Sirius moans, his ribs grating together, and he grips the bed so hard it creaks. “Dark...magic...goddamn it. I can’t heal it, I can’t heal it - “

He grits his teeth, harder, panic flooding him because he’s going to die, in agony, right on his bedroom floor and maybe death wouldn’t be so bad, if only to spare him from the pain. It hurt, so bad, because at least they didn’t know before, never could hurt him in that way, but now his secret was out and he had to get out, he had to get out -

I have to get out.

The words jolt him, startling him. I need to get out.

With a grimace, he places his wand against his chest. “Sine Sensu.”

He gasps, taking a breath, the pain fading slightly, just enough to function. His trunk is in the corner, full of his school supplies, and he hurriedly stuffs some clothes, the remainder of Remus’ letters and a bag of coins into it. He slings his cloak over his head, levitating the trunk with his wand and exits, locking the door behind him.

The stairs are hard, Sirius gripping onto the banister tightly as he gingerly limps down each step, occasionally vanishing drops of his blood from his drag upstairs.

He finally gets to the bottom, turning his back on the dark kitchen beside him, lugging his trunk into the main foyer. In the daytime, it was beautiful, sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

He stops dead, Regulus blocking his way to the door. The moon rose behind him, framing him in silver, the burns prominent on his thin face. “I knew you’d be leaving.”

Sirius exhales. “Reg. Reg, please, please, you have to let me go.”

Regulus is expressionless, his voice monotone. “Running away? What happened to my older brother, Sirius? The one who would ‘always protect me’ from mother?” The tone is mocking, bitter.

Sirius’ voice is low, shaking. “I can’t live like this, Reg, I can’t - “

“You lived with it for 16 years.”

Sirius shakes his head. “It’s not just that.” He scoffs, tears in his eyes, self-loathing in his gut. “They never used to know. About me, I mean. That I’m...that I’m...”

“Gay?” The word is cold, empty, and Sirius swallows. “Yeah. It was the one part of me they couldn’t touch, you know? Everything they did...everything they said...it never hurt as bad, because they didn’t know.” He looks up. “And now they do. So you have to let me go, Reg. You have to.”

Regulus’ face is unmoving, motionless. Sirius is pleading now, a desperate, broken plea. “Please, Reg. I covered you. For 16 years I was tortured and abused and beaten and I endured it because of you. Because I love you. And I would do all of it again to save you.” He’s trembling, fingers pressed together. “But I can’t take this anymore. I can’t.”

Regulus is emotionless, his voice quiet. “You love him? The boy, I mean. Remus?”

Sirius nods, his voice a whisper. “I....” He swallows. “Yes.”

There’s a silence, stretching between them. Memories of a lifetime, two boys building forts together, one reading to another, lying in the same bed. Because no matter what, no matter the horrors and the pain, they were still brothers, still family.

When Regulus speaks, his face is open, unguarded. “Go. Get out of here.” A tiny smile lights his face. “Take my broom. Mother and father locked yours up, and mine is faster, anyways. Go. And don’t come back.”

Sirius nods. “Thank you.” He’s about to turn away, bitterness welling inside him, when he whips around, wrapping his brother in a hug. “Come with me. Please. Screw then, we can be safe. We can be free.”

Regulus’ eyes are closed, his fingers clutching Sirius’ so hard, they go white. “You know I can’t.”

There are so many things he wants to say, so many secrets. I’m sorry, for everything, for being so difficult. For screwing up your life.

But the words can never be spoken, never uttered, so Sirius releases Regulus. “Stay alive. Please.”

Regulus nods. “You too.”

He knows it’s a goodbye, a final statement, that the next time they meet, they will be enemies, and Sirius wants to scream. He pushes his brother’s hair out of his face, presses a kiss to his forehead. “If you need me...I’ll always be there.”

Regulus just nods.

So Sirius turns, lifting his trunk.

And he steps out of the Black Family Manor for the very last time.

#wolfstar #wolfstar angst #wolfstar fanfics #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar whump #sirius black #sirius black angst #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #regulus black #regulus black angst #regulus black whump #regulus black fanfiction #walburga black #orion black #harry potter #hp fanfic #sirius x remus #angst #whump #fanfic #marauders angst #marauders fanfic #marauders #marauders era #first wizarding war #wizarding worlds

[playinonaloop]

But tonight, we crossed a line -C.B

Why’d it take so long to know?

The cold air blew onto your face, even the nature seemed to agree with you that this wasn’t a night to be out. It must’ve been around 3 in the morning, but there you were. Outside, in L.A, with your best friend Corbyn. The two had been best friends since your little nephew Zach introduced the two of you. Corbyn already knew so much of you, but there was one thing you didn’t tell him, yet.

When you woke up to the sound of someone walking around in your room, you quickly sat up with your phone in your hand to throw at the burglar. To your own suprise it was Corbyn, he was looking through your room as if he had lost something. ‘Uhm Corbyn? What are you doing? How late is it?’ He jumped at your whispering, flashing his flashlight directly in your face. ‘Woah, I didn’t expect you to wake up..’ ‘Well if someone is walking around in my room around midnight with a flashlight, most people wake up you know.’ You replied softly, putting a hand infront of your eyes to protect them. ‘Now put that darn flashlight of and let me put on my light.’ He just smiled and put his flashlight off, you quickly put your light on the side of your bed on. It normally was a reading light but this time you used it to light up the room. You also put on your fairy lights.

‘But you ignored my first question Corbyn, so what were you doing?’ you whispered as he sat beside you on your bed. ‘Well I couldn’t find my watch in my room and since we had hang out here this afternoon I thought it would be here.’ He ranted, not looking at you while he spoke. ‘Did you find it?’ You asked, not believing a word he said. ‘Yeah I did!’ He smiled, looking at you in triomph. ‘Well can I continue my sleep then?’ You said while softly pushing him off the bed. ‘Hmm.. I’d rather go venture out with you. You won’t be staying long and I want to spent as much time with my best friend as possible.’ He pulled you with him out of the bed. ‘You can even lent a sweater from me since it’s really cold out.’ His smirk made you agree, atleast that’s what he thought. The real reason you went with, well you liked him a lot. And if you didn’t go you didn’t get to wear his sweartshirt. How could you miss that?

So that’s how you were walking down town L.A at 3 in the morning, making cute snaps of each other for instagram. Pictures together, pictures alone, pictures with buildings or art, the two of you did it all. You looked like a couple, who were on a mission for tumblr couple goals. Corbyn got you something to eat and took you to the ferris wheel although you couldn’t go in. The pier was almost empty. Corbyn and you sat down at the beach, enjoying the sound of the sea. He slowly put an arm around you, pulling you closer. You laid your head on his shoulder, not talking at all. Los Angeles wasn’t quiet but wasn’t busy at this time. You enjoyed the peace, all the thoughts about telling Corbyn left your head. Time would tell.

When the night started to change into the day, Corbyn and you started to walk home. It was a 15 minute walk and it was around 6 in the morning. ‘Corbyn? Why did you take me?’ You looked at him, the sunlight was hugging his beautiful features. ‘Well, you haven’t been to L.A much and I wanted to show you around at it’s most beautiful hours.’ He smiled, putting an arm around your shoulders. ‘And ofcourse, just to spend time with my best friend.’ That stung your heart, after spending the whole night with him in both friendly but also very romantic ways he still viewed you as his best friend. 

The two of you arrived at the house around half past 6, the sun was now shining brightly. ‘We might have a problem’ Corbyn whispered, pulling you into the bushes next to the house. ‘What? What’s wrong?’ You whispered back, glancing over to the house. ‘They’re awake already..’ He looked at you, you could feel him tense up.

‘I swear, if we get caught I’m blaming you!’ You squeaked, hitting his arm. ‘Auch!’ He pulled his arm back, but he wasn’t mad. Quickly you ran off, running as low as possible to not be seen. Corbyn followed you, but you saw that you had been seen. You felt someone ran into you and Corbyn cursed ‘Why the.. Oh.. We’ve been caught.’ The rest of the boys were just staring in shock. ‘I don’t feel like talking to anyone anymore’ And with that you walked away, past the boys. Zach tried to talk to you but you just ignored him. What did he think, maybe he thought that you and Corbyn were secretly together. Sadly, that wasn’t it, no one knew about your feelings for Corbyn.

After spending two hours alone, thinking about the next move, you hear a knock on your door. ‘Can I come in?’ Zach spoke, pushing the door open. ‘Yeah, sure, let me just clean up a bit.’ You quickly got up and cleaned the tear stains from your cheeks, a bit of concealer worked wonders. ‘Sooo, do you wanna talk about what happened this morning?’ He said while sitting down, looking at you. ‘Well uhm, not really..’ You turned around, crossing your arms.

‘That’s too bad for you because I need to talk about it!’ Zach spat, he narrowed his eyes ‘How long have you been sneaking out with him? Do the two of you have something? Are you guys in a relationship?’ Questions flooded from his mouth. ‘This was the first time, nope and nope.’ You replied softly, not looking him in the eye. ‘Why were you out with him then?’ ‘He wanted to show me L.A at it’s beautiful hours.’ ‘And you’re sure you don’t like him?’ A sigh left your mouth ‘I do like him, a lot, but it isn’t going to happen I know that. He and Christina only broke up 2 months ago..’ It stayed silent ‘Oh and I’m leaving tomorrow.’

‘B-But? Why?’ Zach spoke softly ‘Well, I don’t think I can stay, seeing what this morning. It’s just.. Too awkward you know?’ Zach just looked at you in awe. ‘You can’t go yet, please?’ He whispered, tears welling up in your eyes once again. ‘I’ll be back, but now I just can’t do it. You and the boys already thought we were dating and I want Corbyn to heal first before I tell him anything. So.. You have to keep this a secret okay? I don’t want him to know.’ You looked at Zach, he was looking like he was breaking down as well. ‘Oh come here you dork, hug it out with your big niece.’ You laughed through your tears and walked towards Zach, pulled him in a hug and drawed circles on his back while hugging. ‘I don’t want you to go [Y/N].’ ‘I know.’

Nobody but Zach knew that you were leaving, so when you tried to get your suitcase downstairs, you got some strange looks. Ignoring them all, you got the suitcase downstairs. ‘[Y/N]?’ A rough voice said, you recognised it right away. You didn’t have the nerve to turn around, your hands started shaking. ‘Yes Corbyn?’ ‘Are you leaving?’ When you finally turned around, you met two bloodshot eyes. ‘I am.’ ‘Why?’

‘It doesn’t matter’ You looked away, to the stairs, waiting for Zach to get ready to take you to the airport. ‘It does to me..’ Corbyn softly said, making his way up to you. ‘Don’t.’ You whimpered. ‘Corbyn..’ Two arms pulled you into a hug. ‘[Y/N].. Don’t leave please..’ ‘I have to.’ You coldly spoke, pushing him away softly. ‘It’s for the best.’

The ride to the airport was awkward, Corbyn insisted on going with making you and Zach uncomfortable. It was silent, nobody sang along to the music on the radio. When you arrived at the airport, Zach got your suitcase and helped you to your gate. ‘I’m going to miss you’ Zach spoke pulling you into a hug. Corbyn just stared at you awkwardly ‘Goodbye Corbeann’ You forced a smile, turning around to walk through the security. ‘Wait! [Y/N]!’ Corbyn came running after you, grabbing your hand and pulling you in a hug. ‘I really like you..’ He whispered. ‘Don’t. You’ve just broken up with Christina’ You spoke, once again pushing him away. ‘Let’s just.. Not talk for a while okay?’ The tears came welling up once again. ‘Goodbye Corbyn..’ You walked away, through security, away from Corbyn.

A.N

Prompt ‘if we get caught I’m blaming you’

Soooo, my first Corbeann imagine/fanfic thingie. It’s also way too long oops. Hope you enjoy loves! x

#why dont we #wdw #corbyn besson #corbyn besson fanfic #jack avery #zach herron #jonah marais #daniel seavey #cute #couple #break up #fanfic #imagine

[bakagamieru]

Rolling Stone Breakdown

I read part of the article earlier today before work and I could already tell BS was simmering even before I got home and found out about all the over the top het stuff.  Knowing this ahead of time, I’m going to go ahead and take notes / rant back at the article as I read it.

BS 101: Intro to BS

paragraph 1: wow this person really wanted to be a bad fanfic writer, but they got stuck at Rolling Stone instead

I’m being petty with this, but just use “One Direction” fully if you’re going to go to the trouble of typing out “One D” instead of “1D”

“he became a canvas onto which many of fans pitched their hopes and dreams” because all fans of boybands (i.e. girls) dream about is romance and that’s the only reason they’re fans, ALSO media like Rolling Stone had nothing to do with Harry being a blank canvas for people to project their image of him onto (*sarcasm)

every mention of After, even a vague one, is -5000 points, every time it’s mentioned normally and not as the dangerous misrepresentation of abuse it is, is -5,000,000 points, every time someone crosses the line by a light-year and talks about it directly to Harry is -5,000,000,000 points, I don’t make the rules, I just enforce them

“a song cycle about women and relationships”, *cough*womanizer BS*cough, ALSO the first single Sign of the Times is clear social commentary with no real (read: not forced to fit that interpretation) hint of romance in sight, so...?

“more of a rock sound”, still pretending that 1D’s last 3 albums never existed

Harry wants his music to be “honest”, now where have we heard that before?  Niall, Louis, Zayn with Liam probably soon to follow.  It’s almost like they’ve been held forcibly quiet under a gag order...

I’m trying to figure out how I’m supposed to take the comment that Harry “runs every yellow light” and apply it to his persona, I’m stumped (also, you can’t run a yellow btw)

“the album no one has heard is burning a hole in his iPhone”, chill the fuck out with the italics, I know everyone else has talked about that, but you haven’t even mentioned the secrecy around his album in your article so you have no reason to randomly italicize things

Hiatus

“there was another One D member to vector questions into a charmingly evasive display of band camaraderie”, fuck you and your ever so sly implications that the boys’ closeness was manufactured and that the boys never answering anything interesting had to do with the band rather than interviewers incessantly asking the same vapid questions

“It was in a London studio in late 2014 that Styles first brought up the idea of One Direction taking a break”, as @paynoisbatman already pointed out, this timeline of the hiatus makes no sense with the timing of Zayn “quitting”, also it’s inconsistent with the way the boys denied the first round of hiatus articles in June 2015

just to be clear, they probably DID know about the hiatus ahead of time and they WERE lying when they denied the upcoming hiatus in June, and that also means that there’s no reason Zayn should have jumped the gun so close to the finish line (yay mixed metaphors!), I’m just pointing out the story is inconsistent, so all of these things can’t be true

“If you’re shortsighted, you can think, 'Let’s just keep touring,’ but we all thought too much of the group than to let that happen. You realize you’re exhausted and you don’t want to drain people’s belief in you.” <- This is pure 100% lovely, insightful, well spoken Harry

I’d also like to point out that them first discussing it in 2014 means that Harry’s comment about “we all thought too much of the group” applies to all 5

“I love the band, and would never rule out anything in the future. The band changed my life, gave me everything.” I’d like to point out that they always phrase these quotes to sound like past tense, like the band is broken up as of now, when in reality he’s saying that not only will they come back after the hiatus but that he’s in this band for life

“and not just have it be ‘Here’s a demo I wrote.’”  you have that chance Harry!  Release the finished version of Don’t Let Me Go Harry!

“Every decision I’ve made since I was 16 was made in a democracy.” I feel like someone misspelled “was a rebellion under Simon Cowell and Co’s dictatorship”

Pretentious Character Work or Work on Building Pretentious Character? Ah, got it: Pretentious Work on Building Pretentious Character

“As one of the most well-known 23-year-olds in the world, Styles himself is still largely unknown” not if you’ve actually paid attention over the last 6 years?  I mean yes, always to some extent, but it’s not like this insightful, loving dork is a dark mystery

“He looks at my digital recorder like a barely invited guest.” learn to choose useful metaphors and stop being pretentious

dude, I know you did this on purpose, but you said that “Behind the effervescent stage persona, there is more lore than fact. He likes it that way.” and then put the quote about Prince’s artist draw being his mystery right after, making it seem like he that was his reason for wanting to be mysterious, then you quoted “It’s not about trying to make my career longer, like I’m trying to be this 'mysterious character,’ because I’m not.” which directly contradicts the connection you drew with your words, AKA you knew it was BS and made it seem connected anyway

“The pool cleaner looks perplexed, not quite sharing Styles’ existential joy.” there’s nothing existential about it, it’s just a smile, he’s just being nice to people he passes like a good human being, I’m sorry if you don’t know what that looks like

“It’s obvious that the band has a well-worn frat-house dynamic”, do you actually know what you’re talking about or are you going off of stereotypes? if you’re calling it a “frat” and were in a fraternity, your frat was probably stereotypical anyway

“Styles is, to all, ‘H.’” It’s a fricking nickname that his fricking boybandmates also use, not a commentary on his position as the benign and worshipped leader of the Jamaican band cult frat you apparently think formed

“Pomegranate-scented candles flicker around the room.” this I definitely believe, but did you recognize the pomegranate smell right away or specifically look at a candle to find out what it was?

“It was Styles’ first full immersion into the land of musos” I need that staring into the camera Office gif

Music Ideology

“Most of the stuff that hurts me about what’s going on at the moment is not politics, it’s fundamentals,” Styles says. “Equal rights. For everyone, all races, sexes, everything. …” this is a very interesting thing to randomly bring into a conversation without asking, unlike the rest of the article, this bit aligns with Harry’s rainbows in the pics, at SNL, and out and about with fans

“The song is written from a point of view as if a mother was giving birth to a child and there’s a complication.” No, uh-uh, I like the idea personally , but Harry has said ever since MITAM and maybe before that he likes people to be able to have their own interpretation, he said it in interviews about SOTT recently too, I’m not at all convinced Harry wanted to actually share the official story of what the song means, it flies in the face of his philosophy about song interpretation

“The lyrics are full of details and references – secrets whispered between friends, doomed declarations of love, empty swimming pools – sure to set fans scrambling for the facts behind the mystery.” the fact that you put this right after Ever Since New York is laughable, that is a solid contender for the vaguest lyrics that couldn’t possibly be accurately paired up with details of Harry’s life, but you want people to think it’s about Haylor, don’t you

“I’m happy I found this band and these musicians, where you can be vulnerable enough to put yourself out there.” this one is hard because I can see Harry being grateful for a good group of people to write with, but I also don’t believe the implications that he’s never been vulnerable in his writing before or that he couldn’t be vulnerable with his boyband, both are BS, I’m going to say it’s probably a real quote but with suggestive framing

“The album is a distinct departure from the dance pop that permeates the airwaves.” can people please stop pretending that music hasn’t sounded vaguely 70′s and 80′s-ish for the last 4-5 years?

“It’s different from what you’d expect,” Bhasker says. “It made me realize the Harry [in One D] was kind of the digitized Harry. Almost like a character. I don’t think people know a lot of the sides of him that are on this album.” such. utter. BS.  Fans know Harry.  the general public only doesn’t know him because MEDIA LIKE ROLLING STONE created that “digitized Harry” that’s “like a character”

“Asked if he spends pressure-filled evenings worried about proving credibility to an older crowd, Styles grows animated.” of course he does, sweet child of man that he is, he jumps at the chance to educate heathens like you about the wonderful world of being a decent human being rather than a sexist prick

1D and Zayn

“He’s not a heavy drinker, he says, maybe some tequila on ice or wine with friends after a show, but by the band’s last tour there wasn’t much time even for that.” Oh, ok, we’re still pretending that TMH wasn’t the craziest scheduled tour

“Styles and his phone have a bittersweet, mature relationship – they spend a lot of time apart. He doesn’t Google himself, and checks Twitter infrequently.” ah, but you forgot his lurking on Tumblr

“I mention a few of the verbal Molotov cocktails Zayn Malik has tossed at the band in recent interviews.” print interviews, all print interviews, because you put words in his mouth just like you're doing with Harry

“threading the needle of diplomacy” yeahhhh.... this is all BS, it’s made to sound neutral to make it seem like Harry is only being polite, whether Harry said these words or not, they’re not HIS words

More Pretentiousness

“Styles, born two months before Cobain exited Earth, doesn’t feel tied to any particular genre or era” funny since his 70′s image is being amped up to 11 for his solo debut

“In the car, he’ll just as easily crank up the country music of Keith Whitley as the esoteric blues-and-soul of Shuggie Otis” and now I know where the country bits of MITAM came from, I was wondering

“It’s like – that’s not how it works. I don’t even remember what the question was.” having “It’s quite small” flashbacks

“ ‘Could I get a selfie?’ Styles obliges, and leans over the counter. Click. We exit into the Laurel Canyon evening.” I’m sorry, I can’t stop laughing, but was the onomatopoeia really that necessary?

“River Phoenix,” the man announces, a little sadly. “You ever heard of him? If he hadn’t have passed, I would have said that was you. Talented guy.”  sadness, River Phoenix really was such a talented young man, a very worthwhile person based on the roots of his problems too

The Obligatory Origin Story

They share a silent moment, before Styles walks to his car. He hands me the bag filled with English snacks. “This is for you,” he says. “This was my youth …” “Harry Edward Styles was born in Worcestershire, England” great transition dude, I’m sure that was completely organic

“But in fact, all was not perfection, scored to a cool, retro soundtrack.” but I thought it was!

“His eyes moisten a little, but unlike the young man who wept over an early bout with Internet criticism, a powerful moment in the early One Direction documentary A Year in the Making, Styles tonight knocks back the sentiment.” “look, he’s repressing his emotions, this is progress!”  I wouldn’t make fun of this if he had phrased it as Harry being stronger or no longer caring about what other people think, but saying he “knock[ed] back the sentiment”?

“I’d gone because my mum told me I was good from singing in the car …  but your mum tells you things to make you feel good, so you take it with a pinch of salt.” um... first of all, X-Factor flashbacks, second of all, Harry said that he’d always wanted to audition but had always been too young, so...

“and united the members of One D in a musical shotgun marriage” I’m keeping this imagery, it’s mine, no one can take it away from me now, no takebacksies

Ben Winston Earns His Tag On My Blog

“ ‘Family,’ answers Ben Winston.” who is not Harry’s family

look, I actually think Harry and Niall and maybe the others actually have a friendship with Ben, I can’t understand why, though, when he always participates in BS like this, I will never forgive him for the Livestream of Doom/FOUR Hangout

“There is more chance of me going to Mars next week than there is of Harry having some sort of addiction.” Why are we so focused on Harry not being a drug addict?  He’s not, there aren’t even rumors he is, ok, don’t need to talk about it, moving on.

Styles had just moved out of his family home in Cheshire, an inconvenient three hours north of London. He found a home he liked near the Winstons in Hampstead Heath. wtf? revisionist history much?  forgetting all 5 boys lived in the same complex right after moving to London much?

“ He became a friendly mentor to Styles, though the friendship was soon tested... Styles asked if he could briefly move in with Winston and his wife, Meredith. She agreed,” Winston says, “but only for two weeks.”... For the next 20 months, one of the most desired stars on the planet slept on a small mattress in an attic.” this is not Harry, Harry would not move in for 20 months after asking for 2 weeks, if he did he would make sure it was ok, if he made sure it was ok, you shouldn’t be talking about it and essentially badmouthing him to the press

also, can we talk about “one of the world’s most desired stars” because as we’ve all talked about before, Harry was 17/18 and being hypersexualized in the press and this is not ok

Winston continues the tales from the attic. “So we had this joke. Meri and I would like to see the girls that you would come back with to the house. That was always what we enjoyed, because we’d be in bed like an old couple. We’d have our spot cream on our faces and we’d be in our pajamas and the door would go off. The stairwell was right outside our door, so we’d wait to see if Harry was coming home alone or with people... He wasn’t always alone,” corrects Winston, “but it was exciting seeing the array of A-listers that would come up and sleep in the attic. het BS *yawn* *snore*

The subject today is relationships. While Styles says he still feels like a newcomer to all that, a handful of love affairs have deeply affected him. The images and stolen moments tumble extravagantly through the new songs: And promises are broken like a stitch is … I got splinters in my knuckles crawling 'cross the floor/Couldn’t take you home to mother in a skirt that short/But I think that’s what I like about it … I see you gave him my old T-shirt, more of what was once mine … That black notebook, you sense, is filled with this stuff. het BS *yawn* *snore*, I’m really going to need to hear these songs for myself, they better not have fucked with his material, the consolation about Zayn’s album was that at least the music and lyrics were unquestionably his

More Specific Het!Harry BS

The relationship is a subject he’s famously avoided discussing. “I gotta pee first. This might be a long one,” he says. He rises to head to the bathroom, then adds, “Actually, you can say, 'He went for a pee and never came back.' ”  you think he was being funny, but he really really wasn’t, are you sure he came back?  I don’t think he did, I think everything after the bathroom was utter BS

“When I see photos from that day,” he says, “I think: Relationships are hard, at any age. And adding in that you don’t really understand exactly how it works when you’re 18, trying to navigate all that stuff didn’t make it easier. I mean, you’re a little bit awkward to begin with. You’re on a date with someone you really like. It should be that simple, right? It was a learning experience for sure. But at the heart of it – I just wanted it to be a normal date.” ok, maybe not such BS since he’s as vague and general as you can get in the vast majority of this quote, so he’s saying that when he looks at pictures of himself with Taylor, he thinks how he wanted it to be a normal date with Louis, got it 

yada yada yada, Harry being way nicer than he should have to be about his name being used by someone who abused his reputation for her own gain, par for the course

I like tipping a hat to the time together. You’re celebrating the fact it was powerful and made you feel something, rather than 'this didn’t work out, and that’s bad.’ huh, this seems like subtle shade to me since one of my biggest complaints is how nearly all her songs are negative, put the blame on the guy, and don’t have her taking any responsibility (even if they are fake relationships)

He notes a more recent relationship, possibly over now, but significant for the past few years. (Styles has often been spotted with Kendall Jenner, but he won’t confirm that’s who he’s talking about.) it was made abundantly clear that even if you believe the narrative, Harry and Kendall are not currently together, yeesh!

“She’s a huge part of the album,” says Styles. “Sometimes you want to tip the hat, and sometimes you just want to give them the whole cap …  and hope they know it’s just for them.” mm, nope, still BS, alternatively a quote taken out of context and not about Kendall or even romance at all

Actual Solo Stuff

“Some of the stuff they’re doing in this movie is insane. And it was hard, man, physically really tough, but I love acting. I love playing someone else. I’d sleep really well at night, then get up and continue drowning.” ok, that was clever, good on you Harry

It was the perfect rite of passage for a musician looking to explode the past and launch a future. I thought we agreed that Harry has no issue with his past in a boyband?  can you please remember what you already wrote in your own article

He didn’t feel stifled in One D, he says, as much as interrupted. you bet your ass he did, him and Zayn and Niall, interrupting clueless and/or asshole interviewers all day long (I’m sure Louis and Liam have/will do too, just haven’t had the chance yet)

There are songs from that period he loves, he says, like “Olivia” and “Stockholm Syndrome,” along with the earlier song “Happily.” #confirmed

“But I think it was tough to really delve in and find out who you are as a writer when you’re just kind of dipping your toe each time. We didn’t get the six months to see what kind of shit you can work with. To have time to live with a song, see what you love as a fan, chip at it, hone it and go for that” funny that, sounds like someone forced them into a breakneck schedule and then later made big noises about how their hiatus was because they were so overworked and acted like he had nothing to do with that

Ending

To wind down in Jamaica, Styles and Rowland, the guitarist, began a daily Netflix obsession with sugary romantic comedies. Houseworkers would sometimes leave at night and return the next morning to see Styles blearily removing himself from a long string of rom-coms. He declares himself an expert on Nicholas Sparks, whom he now calls “Nicky Spee.” sounds about right for the guy whose favorite movie is Love Actually

Like the time Styles ended up drunk and wet from the ocean, toasting everybody, wearing a dress he’d traded with someone’s girlfriend. yep, sounds about right

oops, fanfic writer made a full return for this paragraph all in present tense, written by someone else as if Harry’s a fictional character

“I think, as a parent, especially with the band stuff, it was such a roller coaster,” he says. “I feel like they were always thinking, 'OK, this ride could stop at any point and we’re going to have to be there when it does.’ this is the second time he’s brought up roller coasters in his solo interviews, it’s a good description for the thing he’s talking about, but I can’t help but think of Zayn’s old Twitter bio and Anne tweeting that bio not long after March 25th

He grabs his black notebook and turns back for a moment before disappearing down the hallway, into the future. I need the Office gif again

“How am I going to be mysterious,” he asks, only half-joking, “when I’ve been this honest with you?” *sarcasm

#one direction #1d #harry styles #solo harry #rolling stone #bakagamieru #speculation #more of an interpretation really #bearding #media #ben winston is an ass

[cresselian]

11 Questions Tag: Writer Edition!

Tagged by @mangaluva (aaaa my fave writer noticed me)

1) How many works in progress do you currently have?

Counting original works:

1. My Otherworld setting, which I am currently working on the first book of. Modern fantasy with fairies! And super involved metaphysics because I enjoy that sort of thing

2. A web video series I’m doing with a good friend based on Dungeons and Dragons, which is currently in the first draft phase.

Counting D&D stuff:

3. A running journal for my character in a friend’s medieval stasis campaign, which I really need to take some time to work on. Maybe I should just put a few lines for each session? But that would be reductive...

4. Nihularian, a D&D setting of my own, which I plan to run at the end of this month/start of next month. I made like 12 new races, and the world is the inside surface of a sphere, because I am Just That Extra.

5. Nibelung, a D&D setting that I pumped out intending to run for my sister and her friends. It’s a lot more conventional than Nihularian, but I enjoyed putting in politics and magic.

btw I plan to run Fate Core, not d20. d20 would be too complicated to build a totally original setting in.

Counting fanfiction that I’ve at least started:

6. My Pokemon self-insert series, AKA my first fanfic, which is so dead I can’t even describe how dead it is. I had planned all the regions, and then crammed The Legend of Zelda and Kingdom Hearts onto the end with the same characters, because I was small but ambitious.

7. The Multiple Personalities of Artemis Fowl, AKA my second fanfic, which is dead because I was so disappointed in The Last Guardian I couldn’t write in that universe anymore.

8. Pokestar Studio Productions, which I swear I’ll work on again someday. I thought it would be fun to write fanfic chapters based on the Pokestar Studios movies from Pokemon Black 2 and White 2. Mostly it turned out to be tedious, but rewarding.

9. Satisfaction and Skating, which is the only fic I’ve completed an arc for. Hi, Check Please fanfic! We start you now! A Hamilton/Check Please crossover fic that I wrote for the Check Please Big Bang last year. Planning to write more of it this summer.

10. A Kingdom Hearts self-insert series I was working on with a friend, but never posted. It was a fun experiment in writing with a full co-author, and I’m still slowly plugging away at it for writing practice.

And now, counting fanfiction that I have at least partially planned, 90% because @a-canker-in-a-hedge is an enabler:

11. A Check Please/Pokemon crossover I toyed with before the release of Sun and Moon last year.

12. A Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812/Jupiter Ascending crossover, 30% because it would bring a better plot and 70% so I can do lavish descriptions of SPACE BAROQUE.

2) Do you/would you write fanfiction?

See above. I mostly write fanfic, because I think it’s fun. I do try to do something original with it, though, because I wasn’t raised on the fanfic conventions by which character interactions constitute a plot. I need to have some sort of external driver to what’s happening to enjoy what I’m writing.

3) Do you prefer real books or e-books?

In theory, e-books. In practice, real books.

I like the idea of e-books because then I could get rid of so much clutter in my house, and they make so much more sense than using dead tree to store all our words. But in practice, I can’t survive without the feeling of an actual book under my hands. But I won’t write in either; that’s blasphemous.

4) When did you start writing?

My first piece I remember was in Grade 1, but that was a class assignment and it’s only notable for being the first time a teacher said that I’d been really exceptional at something. I believe that I can call that a catalyst?

I posted my first fanfiction when I was 14/15, but started working on it when I was 11/12. I started doing original work in earnest about a year ago, when I was 18, once I started seriously thinking about doing a university creative writing program.

5) Do you have someone you trust to share your work with?

That would be @a-canker-in-a-hedge for my fanfic. I’m remarkably cagey about original WIPs, but once the draft is done to my satisfaction I will throw it at literally anyone I think can give me feedback. The more perspectives I can get, the better.

6) Where is your favourite place to write?

I plan on the bus or in other public places when I don’t have other entertainments. I have great ideas in the shower (and then desperately hope I won’t forget them). When I write by hand, it’s mostly in bed or on the couch, and when I write on the computer, it’s in my university’s library that I get the most done. I try to write from my desk a lot, but it never works. Tumblr calls to me...

7) Favourite childhood book?

The Redwall series by Brian Jacques. I reread it continually from when I was in Grade 3 to Grade 6, without ceasing for almost anything else. There were just enough surprises mixed in with Jacques’ formulas that I could be interested but never shocked, which was perfect for a kid who loved everything to be just so.

You could probably qualify the border between my childhood and adolescence by the point at which I put Redwall aside for good and dove into my high school’s fiction section to finally read Percy Jackson and Septimus Heap.

8) Writing for fun or writing for publication?

I’d like to add a third option: I write online for validation. What other skill do I have that people will adulate like my writing? None, that’s the answer.

For real, though, I write because it’s my favourite thing to do, and because I hope to someday get published/self-publish. As one of the TAs in my Creative Writing class this term said, if I had to stop writing I’d probably lose my mind, so I may as well use it to its best advantage.

9) Pen and paper or computer?

I write so much better by hand, especially when I have a plan. It forces me to think through what I’m about to write before I get there, and it distills my thoughts to make them more easily transferable to other people. You better believe I do all my planning by hand: I think in flowcharts and diagrams, and putting those into a digital universe is too time-consuming and involved to be practical.

However, my writing is more spontaneous on the computer, and it ends up... passable, I suppose. Because University, I rarely have the time to do a draft by hand followed immediately by drafting on the computer, so I write directly onto the computer based on the planning I did in my notebooks. If I had the time to do it all by hand, though, I would.

10) Have you ever taken any writing classes?

I decided to become an author in a grade 6 class called Reading Writing Workshop, because I was the best at it. I do a lot of things because I like being exceptional with minimal effort.

In the term I just finished at uni, I took a class on writing for children (there was a bit of good info) and last summer I took an introductory class on fiction writing at the university level (it was useless, and the classroom smelled of cleaning products).

The purpose of taking a writing class, I think, should be to force the students to produce a large volume of good work for deadlines, because that’s what I need to improve. The craft of writing is something that I, personally, learned primarily from reading voraciously, and from large amounts of practice and getting things wrong.

11) What inspires you to write?

Screaming with @a-canker-in-a-hedge.

Seriously, though, it’s reading, and playing games, and going ‘huh. that’s not how I would do that’. And then the idea takes root and suddenly there’s a new writing project. Often, I won’t actually write it until there’s a deadline, and then it will get done and it will be wonderful but I won’t be pleased because I couldn’t do it until the last minute and AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

Anyways

I tag @a-canker-in-a-hedge, @sakura-deserved-better, @ohthewhomanity, and any other writers who happen to see this! Do the thing! Then write something!

#excuse the writer #ask meme #things about me #mangaluva #long post #i can't say anything more about nihularian because some of the players follow me

[ecchima]

Human is beautiful, perfect is boring

Note: This is not a new chapter, I just forgot to post chapters 4 and 5 on tumblr! We are still working on this fanfic tho, don’t worry! We just are really busy lately

Words: 3,8k Rating: T Co-author: @smuttybugggu AO3

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

Not as Much Flavor as You    

After a fun drive from the modeling agency to McCree’s place, Jesse leads the way to his apartment with excitement written all over his face. It almost reminds Hanzo of an overly energetic, but cute, puppy.

The first thing Hanzo sees when he enters is a big couch, directly in front of a flat TV screen hanging on the wall. McCree puts his leather jacket on a coatrack and motions for Hanzo to do the same.

The apartment is in fact composed of two floors, Hanzo discovers. The first floor being the main living area. McCree doesn’t seem to have a table other than the american counter in front of the kitchen. The second floor is, in fact, a mezzanine giving access to four doors. The remaining sunlight comes in through a wall made out of glass in front of them. Hanzo can’t help but to admire how simplistic, but modern and practical the design looks. McCree pushes a button, flicking the lights on and giving the whole place a more cozy ambiance.

“Here’s my cave,” Jesse jokes, cracking a smile on his face.

 Hanzo smirks. “It is very nice.” He watches as Jesse takes his cowboy hat from the coatrack and puts it on his head.

"Well…Dinner’s not exactly ready yet so how about you watch me cook it for ya?”

Hanzo removes the jacket Jesse lent him and nods. “Very well.” His smile subtly twists into a sly expression as he cants his head and stares at the other man. “Since I told you more about myself during our last dinner, I would like to hear something about you in return.”

Jesse opens his fridge’s door and pulls out the pre-portioned and marinated foods, setting them on his countertop. “Fair enough, Mister Shimada.”

Hanzo merely watches McCree fumble around, gathering spices and pans to cook in, before he strolls after him and boldly takes the cowboy hat right off his head. “You should not block your vision while you cook.” Jesse immediately feels for his hat in surprise and sends Hanzo a confused glance. “Do not worry, I will take good care of it,” he adds with a wink and drops it on his own head. He likes how easy it is to make the other blush.

Hanzo then casually makes his way to one of the high stools facing the kitchen and takes a seat, gazing at McCree with a warm smile. His arms are crossed on the tabletop and his chin rests against them.

“Alright, alright,” McCree replies with a defeated hum and bows his head. “Just take good care of it, sugar.”Jesse returns a wink of his own. “So, what d’ya want to hear about?”

Hanzo hums, considering his options for a few seconds. “How did you become a soundcheck technician?”

Jesse programs his oven, sets the meat on his grill and checks his frying vegetables before turning to face Hanzo, leaning back on the counter.

“Actually, I don’t rightly remember how I got my guitar but I remember learnin’ how to play it. I used ta spend a lotta time in the streets as a kid ‘cause my Ma had to work as a waitress at a dirty ol’ bar everyday. She used ta let me ‘go out and play’,” Jesse says while he makes little air quotes with his hands “There was a television store down the street and the owner really liked music. I don’t think there was a day where we couldn’t see a guy playin’ on the screens. That’s how I learnt ta play, by watchin’.”

Jesse turns his back to Hanzo again, checking on the food, as he goes on. “When I got good enough ta play a few classics, I started playin’ on the streets.” Hanzo watches Jesse’s shoulder moving as he chuckles. “I used ta spend all my money in sweets an’ I ended up gettin’ cavities.”

“That must have been painful,” Hanzo says. “I remember when Genji managed to get cavities. He refused to eat anything solid for a week.”

They stay silent for a little while as Jesse seems to find the cooking of the meat much more interesting than the end of his story. Hanzo clears his throat and shifts his weight to one side.

“What happened then?” he prompts patiently, watching how diligently Jesse cooks. He can’t help but admire how much attention the other man keeps on the food. It’s...charming to Hanzo to see McCree multi-task with the grill and several other pans on the stovetop.

Jesse finally tears his gaze from the grill and smiles warmly at Hanzo, crossing his arms on his muscular chest.

“I told ya, I played on the streets. It’s…it’s An interestin’ experience. You meet a lotta people, ‘specially on the subway. One day I met a dude with an electric guitar, real nice fellah. We became friends and he taught me how to do maintenance for instruments. So when the guy started a band with a bunch a other dudes he found on the streets, he asked me to lend a hand here an’ there. After some time, I became known for it and now it’s my job.” Jesse stops talking, drawing his full attention on Hanzo, a warm smile slowly growing on his face. “Why are ya smillin’ so much, darlin’?”

Hanzo leans back on his stool and starts spinning back and forth. "I just admire your accent. It is rather cute."

He doesn’t miss the way McCree sputters at the admission and quickly bows his head to hide the surprise. But if the other man says anything, Hanzo can’t hear it under the hiss of meat sizzling on the grill. He lifts his nose in the air and takes in the pleasant smell of whatever Jesse is cooking. Carne asada is what he called it, but Hanzo wasn’t entirely sure about the ingredients or what it tasted like.

“So, is it almost ready?” he asks, leaning against his arms again, lips pursed into a small smile.

“Yep! I hope you worked up an appetite, darlin’!” It almost makes Hanzo melt with how warm and affectionate McCree’s voice is.

Hanzo’s eyes dart up and down a few times, taking in the sight of Jesse cooking so attentively. “You could say that,” he teases and nibbles against his bottom lip. He watches as Jesse turns the oven off and pulls out a thin pan, oblivious to Hanzo’s flirting.

“Biscochitos are done cookin’, just need to let them cool,” McCree mutters as he slides the pan onto the kitchen countertop and focuses his attention back on the grill. Hanzo watches as Jesse slices off a thin piece of steak and nibbles on it. “Yessir. Seasoned just right!” With that, the other man quickly gathers a set of plates, and starts scooping food out onto the dishes.

Hanzo perks up as McCree sets the food on the counter, the plates rather elegantly composed. He leans forward, smelling the dishes and trying to guess which spices McCree used.

“Lemon?” He asks, raising a curious brow at the cowboy.

“Jus’ try it an’ tell me what you think.” McCree sounds a bit anxious but smiles nonetheless.

Hanzo carefully cuts a bit of the meat and puts it in his mouth, savouring it. The taste of onions hits first, then the lime and lemon, contrasting with the taste of the meat pleasantly. When he starts munching, Hanzo finds he quite likes the texture too.

“It is delicious,” he says, watching as the anxiety drains from Mccree’s face, replaced by relief. “Where did you learn how to cook?”

McCree starts picking at the food on his own plate. “I’d like ta say that my Ma taught me but I just watched videos on the internet. What about you? You know how to cook?”

Hanzo finishes his mouthful of meat and dries off his mouth on his napkin, taking all his time to answer. “I know the basics but I rarely have the time to cook myself. Genji is a catastrophe in a kitchen so we mostly go out or buy ‘microwavable stuff’,” he says, smirking.

McCree snorts. “You’ll never let me forget I said that, will ya?”

“Nope,” Hanzo answers, popping the word. “May I get a drink?”

Quickly, McCree stands up and slaps a hand to his face. “Ack! Sorry, darlin’! How could I forget! Uh...Let’s see here!” He rushes to the wine rack, under the counter and scrambles for a few bottles of wine. “Any kind ya like in particular?”

Hanzo merely smirks at how panic-stricken Jesse looks. “Since I recommended the ramen you tried, I’ll allow you to pick a kind for me.”

McCree hesitates and rubs his chin. “How about some Malbec? It’s the most typical wine to go with Carne asada.”

“It sounds good.” He answers, leaning back on the stool as he watches McCree pour the wine in two glasses. When the cowboy offers him one of the glasses, Hanzo looks up at him.

“Thank you,” he says, gazing into the other’s warm brown irises when something else catches his attention. There’s a lump on McCree’s brow, right above his left eye. He takes a few short sips of the wine, but he’s too distracted to fully admire the taste. He waits until Jesse is seated and keeps staring at the other man “What happened to your eye?” he asks, frowning in concern.

McCree seems confused so Hanzo leans against the counter and pokes the lump, careful to avoid staining his outfit with the food. He watches as a blush appears across McCree’s cute freckled face.

“Oh, I just... Bumped my head on the counter… When ya texted me earlier, I dropped my phone.”

Hanzo hums, an idea coming to life in his mind. “Does it hurt?”

McCree chuckles. “A bit, but I reckon I’ll survive this.”

 Hanzo smirks. “If it hurts, then let me cast a spell on it.” He says, using one arm on the counter for support, and he leans closer. His other hand comes behind McCree’s head and pulls him gently until Hanzo can kiss the lump. He can feel the other man take a stuttered breath as a pair of warm hands land on either side of Hanzo’s face. Before he can chicken out, Hanzo presses a line of kisses on McCree’s face--one on the eye, two on the cheek and one right above his mouth. He takes all his time to lay one final kiss on McCree’s lips, looking at the other in the eyes when he pulls out.

“You taste like meat…” came McCree’s hushed answer.

Hanzo snorts and sits back on the stool. “And you taste like cheap cigars.”

“Cheap?” McCree asks quietly with a mock pout. “But they have such flavor, darlin’.” He flashes a cheeky grin as he leans closer and kisses Hanzo’s cheek in return. “Not as much flavor as you though.”

Hanzo nearly drops his fork at the sweet gesture and quickly hides a snort behind his hand. He’s so glad he found McCree at the bar a few weeks ago, he thinks as he feels his heart flutter and a fond smile soothes his features. When he leans back in his chair, however, Hanzo notices that McCree’s plate doesn’t contain any meat. He raises a single brow in question and looks back at his lover.

“You did not make any for yourself?” he asks, gesturing to Jesse’s plate. He notices there is some kind of salad instead of the carne asada.

“I--uh…” McCree starts; he seems a bit uncomfortable. “I’m mostly vegetarian.”

Hanzo feels ice replace the warm feeling in his guts. “...But you ate the ham in the ramen. Did you do it only so I would not think badly of you?”

McCree starts gesturing wildly, he almost knocks the wine bottle away as he blurts out. “No, no sweetheart! I said 'mostly'! I do eat meat!” He pauses. “Sometimes..."

Hanzo feels some of the dread fade away with relief, but the frown doesn’t leave his face. “If you had told me, I would have asked you to cook something we can both enjoy equally.”

McCree looks back at his plate sheepishly. “I made enough of the vegetables for two,” he offers with a smile. “Besides, I know I’m better at cooking meat.”

“If you’re sure,” he replies, his frown slowly turning into a pout instead. He decides not to push McCree anymore about the subject and takes another bite from his food.

They continue to eat, chatting and gossiping about people at their work. Hanzo complains about McMilan for a while but stops when he notices McCree turned silent.

“What is the matter?” He asks, worried. “Does your head hurt?”

“Nah, I was just wonderin’ if you’d like ta watch a movie with me while we eat dessert.” Jesse smiles softly, almost sadly.

Hanzo reaches out and gently brushes McCree’s hair from his face, admiring his brown eyes. “What did you have in mind?” He lays his hand on Jesse’s cheek, his thumb gently brushing the other’s scruffy beard.

McCree leans into the touch and hums. “How about we watch Junkenstien’s Revenge?”

Hanzo makes a teasing chuckle. “Ah, a horror movie? You want an excuse to keep me close to you, do you not?” he asks with a wink.

The other man grins in return and scratches the back of his neck. “Maybe.”

Hanzo’s heart flutters at the sight. Damn that man is gorgeous , he thinks, eating the last bit of food from his plate and putting the fork down. “Alright then,” he says with a smile, standing up.

“Perfect! You can go on the sofa, I’ll get the cookies!” McCree answers excitedly.

“May I charge my phone while we watch the movie? I would not like missing a call from Genji if he needs something.”

“Sure thing, darlin’. There’s an outlet near the couch.”

Hanzo makes his way from the dinner table to the sofa while McCree fumbles around in the kitchen. He gently plops down against the comfy leather cushions and relaxes against the couch. It feels nice and plush against his back; more comfortable than any typical bed. He doesn’t have to wait long before the other man sits next to him with a bowl and a blanket in his hands, a huge smile splitting his gorgeous face.

“So,” Jesse begins as he leans closer to Hanzo and picks up his television’s remote, “You’re familiar with Junkenstein then? This one’s a sequel to a previous movie,” he explains and waits for the screen to flicker on.

Hanzo nods. “I am, but I have not had the chance to watch it. Free time is very hard to come by with my work. My brother, Genji, is a big fan of them both,” he says, picking up the case where he keeps his glasses and putting them on. When he looks back at him, Jesse is staring.

“Is there a problem?”

“Nothin’! I was just thinking you look handsome and smart with glasses on. Not that you’re not smart, ‘cause I think you are but y’know, the glasses makes you look more intellectual?”

Hanzo chuckles at the comment and quickly reaches for one of the treats in the bowl. “I see. Well, I’m sure you would look nice with glasses as well.”

McCree snorts. “Yeah, I’d look like a nerd. Do you like the biscochitos?”

Hanzo feels so tempted to reply back with how McCree would be a handsome ‘nerd’, but decides against it. “Yes. I always loved sweets but it is the first time I’ve tried something from another country than my own. Genji made me try some American treats before but they all tasted awful,” he emphasizes with a disgusted shiver.

A sudden mad cackle coming from the t.v. interrupts them as a bold ‘Junkenstein’s Revenge’ title card flashes on the screen. McCree makes himself comfortable on the sofa and beckons Hanzo over. The later settles himself, leaning on Jesse and deciding that this is even better than the cushions. The blanket is then splayed out on their legs and the bowl falls into Hanzo’s lap. McCree’s hands find the edge of his sweater and slides beneath it, making Hanzo squirm.

“Sorry, darlin’, my hands are cold,” a low voice drawls near his temple.

Hanzo opens his mouth to reply, but no words form as the plot of the movie draws him in. It takes place after the defeat of Doctor Junkenstein’s monster from the previous movie. The town Aldersbrunn called on four heroes--an old, hardened Soldier, a mysterious Alchemist, a loner Archer, and a kind-hearted Gunslinger--to defend the villagers from an onslaught of ‘zomnics’. Hanzo mentally scoffs at the wonky looking zombie omnic design.

Along with the danger of the zomnics, there was the threat of a cloaked beast called The Reaper. Black mist followed him with every step and movement and he had a terrifying pumpkin in lieu of a head. Hanzo suspects from the start that he had some kind of history with the Soldier, due to passing comments.

After nearly half an hour into the movie, Junkenstein’s monster rears its head once more and attacks with the Reaper. The four warriors fend off the pair after an exciting battle with guns and bow and science and gunshots. And then, Junkenstein appears alongside a large wave of more of his robotic horde.

The group took up defensive positions directly in front of Aldersbrunn’s castle doors for the final confrontation: the Soldier guarding the central bridge with the Alchemist by his side and throwing healing potions to the three when they were injured, the Gunslinger standing on the upper staircase picking off amazing headshots left and right, and finally the Archer perched up on a small platform high above the courtyard, calling out directions and scouting for tactical advantages as his arrows rained down.

Hanzo munches on his cookie anxiously as he watches the soldier manage to land the final bullet into Junkenstein’s heart and the heroes all sigh in relief. But then--Hanzo feels his breath lump in his throat in disbelief--a shrill laugh disturbs the peace. A winged form descends from the air, chanting in foreign tongue. The Witch who brought Junkenstein’s creation to life, and formed a pact with the Reaper’s soul, has arrived.

All the villains are revived and a final stand begins. It’s a shocking moment, so much that Hanzo sits up in alert and clenches a handful of the blanket covering him and McCree.

The heroes are overwhelmed by the zomnics coming to destroy the door, the Alchemist has to stop attacking to focus on her healing but there’s just too many enemies...Until the Gunslinger manages to kill fifteen zomnics with his six shooter--despite being critical of details, Hanzo overlooks the error to enjoy the movie--which allows the Soldier and the Archer to focus on the enemies. The Witch went down first, soon followed by the Reaper and the Monster. The fight ends when the Archer puts an arrow right between Junkenstein’s eyes and Hanzo relaxes back against McCree. He remains speechless as the movie ends on a bittersweet note: the villains are defeated, but the Soldier muses at the loss of his old comrade. The Alchemist bids her allies goodbye and departs to travel the country alone. The Gunslinger and the Archer enjoy one another’s company, helping to repair the damage caused by the fight.

When the staff roll appears on the screen, McCree not-so-subtly yawns, stretches, and hooks an arm around Hanzo, pulling him closer. “That was a good choice, huh?”

It makes Hanzo smirk as he plays along and rests his head against the other man’s shoulder. “I can see why my brother is such a fan of the series.”

“So, which one was your favorite, darlin’?” Jesse asks and nuzzles his cheek against Hanzo’s head.

He taps his chin in consideration and his eyes narrow thoughtfully. “I believe I enjoyed the Gunslinger’s character the most. The way he spoke reminded me of someone”--Hanzo reaches out and teasingly squeezes McCree’s thigh--“and it was charming. But I did notice some...tension between him and the Archer. Good tension,” he clarifies with a smile.

“He is a fancy shooter. I’ll give ‘im that!” McCree chuckles. “Always found myself fond of the Alchemist. She’s a nice old lady, kind of gives ya a ‘grandma vibe’.”

“I do not like her much…I do not trust her alchemy,” Hanzo answers just as his phone starts ringing. He stretches a hand to grab the device laying on the table. The screen shows notifications for about ten messages. One from McCree, eight from Genji and one from Jack. He rolls his eyes as he momentarily ignores his brother’s texts and opens Jack’s instead.

It’s a lengthy text, but Hanzo isn’t surprised; Jack never sends multiple messages. It starts off with the usual ‘Hello’ before he gets to the point. Hanzo learns that a few weeks after his upcoming photo-shoot with James McMilan--he barely contains the urge to roll his eyes thinking about the pompous fool--he’ll be having a session with a very prominent omnic model that’s been rising in popularity for a few months. He’ll be visiting the country all month before the photo-shoot happens though and stopping by the agency in mere days.

Hanzo simply tilts his head to one side, glances back at McCree, before he smiles and sends a response to his manager: Apologies for the abrupt request, but I will need to take tomorrow off. I am not feeling well.

Within a minute, Hanzo gets a reply: Very well. Feel better, don’t worry about coming in this weekend. Rest up.

“What’s that smile about?” Jesse asks, scruffing his beard playfully against Hanzo’s temple.

“I asked my manager for a day off tomorrow so I can stay here tonight.”

“Funny, I just sent mine a text too. Poor Jesse McCree has a cold and he can’t even breathe,” he explains, waving his phone back and forth in glee. “Aren’t we both terrible?” McCree added with a wink and beckons him to the couch.

Hanzo purses his lips as he approaches and sinks back down beside McCree. “I suppose I do not know enough about bands or how they work. A soundcheck technician has a manager?”

McCree shifts uncomfortably behind him. “Well, I said manager ‘cause it’s kinda the same job. At least I think it is? I mean, that guy tells me when and where I’m needed so…”

“Ah. I see,” Hanzo replies quietly, fatigue from such an exciting day finally catching up to him. He closes his eyes in an attempt to rest them. He’s barely awake when he hears the telltale sound of someone taking a picture with their phone.

Hanzo gets one last whiff of McCree’s pleasant cologne, enjoys how comfortable the other man is, before he slips away into sleep; never moving from his spot on the couch for the entire night.

#mchanzo #human is beautiful perfect is boring #model au #ecchima writes #jesse mccree #hanzo shimada

[acethena-discourse]

@grungedyke Tumblr own’t let me reblogged, and i’m not sure if its being dumb or you blocked

Thanks for showing up dumbass. Your presence and your type of thinking in that server is like a tumor, do you realize that? You’re a spineless liar if you think a member saying they were leaving is “strongarming” someone, and those mods are truly either desperate or foolish to keep you in there. No wonder people are uncomfortable with the environment in there – you and other active users have a habit of distorting any disagreement into violent persecution while pretending everything on your side is completely “valid” and brave.

I’m allowed to stay because i don’t break rules. Even now, this isn’t breaking rules. I rarely interact with minors in the server unless they directly talk to me first. But please go off about how I’m terrible for thinking that demanding a mod force someone to stop unhealthy coping, and cropping that out is bad.

My claim that rules are more heavily enforced is directly addressing the fact that i have gotten in trouble for things i legit forget. Ie. THe server does not allow the word b*tch. So often i’ll type “bitching about’ and get a warning from dyno. Thats p fucking strict. I’ve also phrased things v poorly, and been told to either delete the message or clarification, I often opt to EDIT THE INFORMATION because I know exclus will screenshot the bad one, and not the new one. But okay.

Recently a rule has been implimented for triggers, telling us that server anouncemnts will be modifed with new triggers/squick as they appear. Now if you have issues with these instances of rules, please go take that up with the mods.

Now, as for your screenshot, yes, I did tell them to archive it, and how I’ve both handled people baying for blood over the art of 2 ocs in a server in the past. I locked the channel, put an NSFW ban in place, and then *archived them* something I’m surprised you are more grateful for. Considering not only would archiving the channel would keep the good advice (ie yes use lube, do not use soap like in fanfic etc.) along with the bad that yall screenshotted before.

You may pretend to be nice, but that typical tendersoft nerd innocent-white-person shit does not stop you from being predatory.

There is no pretending. I genuinely believe it or not, believe in being nice to just about everyone I come across. That includes you, or a stranger on the bus or even someone walking by my house in a fucking ski mask. Being polite, and kind is just something I believe in. Until you give me beyond a reasonable doubt, I don’t even owe you basic compassion, then you’re gonna get it. Yes, that includes for big mistakes like not having age roles when you were finding your feet in discord moderation. That includes, people like you, who are trying to accuse me of “preserving gross content” when the reality is archiving a chat is a neutral suggestion because it favors no one. But i see, clearly i should go around kicking random babies and yelling don’t touch me. Because clearly if i’m not openly 100% mean to everyone, i must have some ulterior motive for my kindness right?

Can you name a single change to the rules aside from this recent “keep all the messages and let the adults keep reading them” shite?

See the above. In the past when users got banned all their messages would be deleted. They started keeping this for context. Then there's last year where someone decided to doxx a bunch of discords and said “Btw I did this bc uwuw you don’t edit screenshots” it took two weeks to give or take for mods to come to a verdict on what to do. So they made the rule that screenshots may not have their og username in them. Based on this, alone, i suspect the nsfw channels and sex ed might not be reopened for a similar period of time until the mods make new rules and clarify old ones.

It’s irrelevant and maybe even suspicious for you to bring up the wrongdoings of people who are completely unrelated to this situation. You’re already deflecting onto other people, offering no evidence of the “context,” and bitching on behalf of the mods. If you were in any way committed to safety or improving the situation, you wouldn’t be bringing up random people and downplaying things you obviously witnessed.

“offering no evidence of the context” for someone in the server you would know a handful of things about me 1) mobile tumblr is hell and i attach information from pc once I can. 2) I was out of town for someone so eager to screenshot me funny how you were so eager to forget that information.

So heres screenshot 1

Funfact i did not, and still don’t know what agere is. Now i will say my stance on cgl is that its not for me. I don’t like it, i don’t want to hear about it. But as long as both participates are 18, i also don’t need to know about it. Now if a minor was in chat, said “i participate in cgl with my partner” i would full stop be like what the fuck. And would leave if the mods decided to condone it, but that isn’t what happened. But you can see the mods do point out that if an unhealthy relationship or it was discussed at all outside of nsfw- channels they would be warned, banned, or reported.

Then there is the obvious mention that age regression isn’t a consenting adult, yeah. Ya dang right it not motherfucker. But let's talk about the word AGERE in relation to this. I’ve never once heard that there is a special word for nonsexual coping mechanism. So like damn, I’ll just add that into my vocabulary.

But I didn’t know that word exists, me saying “non sexual cgl” or “coping cgl” is literally me acknowledging that I find that eh but ultimately okay between consenting adults who are not aged regressing vs sexual cgl.

screen shot 2

In this a user tries to suggest the mods have a moral obligation to inform someone its “unhealthy” when mods point out that no they do not, but nor do they allow users to go off telling everyone “Oh cgl is a great coping mechinism you should do it to.”

Which is important. Because again, I hate cgl, but I also am of the mind that, i can’t stop it. I outright can’t, so no i’m not gonna get involved in someones personal road to recovery and be like “you’re disgusting”. I can however tell them to keep it away from me, and not to discuss it in channels minors can see. (a policy that has been in place for a while now.)

screenshot 3

More of the mods not condoning it, and stating p clearly that policies have changed since 2017/early 2018. I’ve been in the server since july 2018ish. And things have been nearly constantly evolving.

screenshot 4

Mods again emphasizing that you can find the policy changes since the messages have changed. Because that is important. They confined this to other channels. Why they didn’t delete the information in sexed, i can’t actually say one way or another. They might have kept it because they believe in mistakes of that caliber being left alone. But you also have no evidence for why they kept the og messages.

But the reason, i consider what herpcourse did lying by omission, is herpcourse led you to believe the above screenshots were out in the open. The ones i just posted happened in some random channel. They did not, they happened in an age locked channel. That only adults are in. And mods are under no obligation to 1) be your personal therapist, 2) nor are they obligated to go “uwu reminder cgl in all situations no matter what is disgusting you dirties” because doing so is preformative. One of the mods is squicked by it just like me. But please go off about how admitting past mistakes happened, refusing to performatively disown something, and refusing to tell anyone who mentions it in the age locked channels is actually gross and unhealthy when you know nothing about them is bad.

I did not, in fact, witness anything in sexed, because I don’t go there. I only witnessed the stuff that followed herpcourse callout, which means the above messages. I have sexed muted.

I also didn’t bring up random people I brought up a known predator who is on youtube, actually sends salacious photos to minors, and is p safe to say fucking gross, my point was there are actual sharks in the water, please stop focusing on the tuna. Because you can surprise, call out both behaviors. But i’ve yet to see an exclus call out someone like pkrussel, instead choosing to focus on people who might have a seemingly large following in one community. Me pointing out sharks in the beach and asking you to stop focusing on tuna, is not telling you to ignore the tuna.

I’m only as committed to this situation as anyone can be, which isn’t v much considering I’ve yet to witness someone grooming a minor in gen chat. Or witnessed them grooming minors at all. The only skin i have in this game is the following: Minors still being allowed access to decent sex-ed resources and being allowed to ask questions. And 2) my own personal discomfort with all cgl. My hope is that rules do become more clear, maybe only discussion of sex ed by users to be direct questions only. Meaning a minor can come in ask a direct question and receive a direct answer. Which while not ideal sex ed, is sitll better than what i got, what you probably got, and what they’re likely getting (if getting any at all)

The mods are not level-headed and not passive when they actually care and think they have control. They’re cowardly, that’s the difference. They literally got more mad over someone making fun of one of their icons and a minor saying genuine trauma with the q slur is possible.

I don’t expect them to be 100% level headed. I’d honestly be kinda upset if they didn’t display emotions when shit like this happens. But please give me a source on the icon thing (which btw, no you shouldn’t make fun of people, period) and for the minor saying ‘queer can have trauma’ bc I do think it can. But if you join fya, you can’t request it be tagged as qlur. Because there is a lot o discussion not only of queer as a personal identity but also queer as a history. Which means groups like queer nation, or shows today like queer eye. And just like I hope if I’m discussing the motorcycle gang made up of lesbians called dykes on bikes and their history, you’d not want me to censor, or remove their history and accomplishments by calling them “d-slur on bikes uwu” you don’t expect me to censor the discussion above. But to my knowledge, the denial is not “queer isn’t used as a slur” its “queer as an identity deserves respect, and to insist its evil is to take the word our oppressors used and give it back to them.”

Also what’s with you specifically and always bringing up “afab” as a gotcha descriptor in arguments? What are you trying to say?

Bc lets be real, when you talk about ddlg, you’re talking about an afab person dressing up as a child and calling her partner daddy while he fucks her most times. Didn’t know to point out the difference between that and agere was in fact a “gotcha” based purely on the agab of the person. But okay.

You need to leave and delete your five blogs from anywhere you can speak to minors like yesterday.

Okay, what are the five blogs? Bc I’m only aware of...literally none that interact with minors in conscious effort.

I highly doubt there’s any reason for them to have changed, considering the execrable atmosphere in that server, so here’s a screenshot of one mod (toytulini) going Karen mode along with a bunch of other 20+ year olds while the minor they were targeting tried to defuse the situation as mentioned above.

What is the context? Bc i legit don't’ see any. I see them arguing, btu about what, I don’t know, if i  was involved myself, I do not remember. So again, not much of a smoking gun. It looks like they were trying to get someone to actually *understand* what was being said, but that wasn’t appearing to happen. But again, missing context such as what the argument was about, why that started, so on so forth. also if the person was told not to argue there, yeah, they should have moved it. as per server rules, there are channels to argue in, that wasn’t one. So no matter the context, if they were breaking rules, and did not move when requested, yes, they should be given a ban based on whatever the conversation topic was.

Now, i’ve provided evidence. I’m gonna go to bed, please feel free to dm me here if you need me to clarify anything or want to throw out accusations about how being kind must be predatory af since i’m barely an adult and adults lose compassion after becoming 18.

[inky-animatronic]

BATIM Fanfic: A Different Light AU - Chapter 1

Summary: AU of 'A Different Tune.'

Dani meets and befriends the Projectionist and decides to try and save the employees due to feeling bad for them. She couldn't leave alive knowing they were still trapped and suffering. They already were for some decades already.

However, Bendy has other plans and won't be letting her go so easily. She did some things for the angel, it's only right for her to do things for him too.

Meanwhile, Dani's life becomes much harder than it already was when she was simply running and hiding from the demon. Now he has her wrapped around his finger with Boris' life on the table. She knows she better listen or they will both end up dead.

Note:

This is a AU of my other fic 'A Different Tune.' So you might want to read that one first.

I realized that I had completely skipped over the Projectionist part in the main fic so i decided to make a AU where Dani does meet him and even becomes friends with him. I also decided that this won't go the same way as the other one. So they'll have different endings and plots.

Norman will likely have a larger role, Bendy will be around more and talk too, and idk what to do about Sammy just yet. He might pop up but his role will likely be smaller since it's bigger in the other fic.

Dani also tries to make it a goal to save the employees, not just escape. How she's going to go about it...who knows because she's like 20 years old and dealing with all sorts of monsters. Even friendly ones that don't remember much or anything for that matter.

Speaking of Norman, this is my headcanon of him:

Norman was a older man at around 40-50 years old. He had graying hair/beard and was a African American. He and his wife had three kids; a teenage daughter and two younger boys.

I might make a post on my Tumblr, RegularPsycho13, a full list of my headcanon designs of all the human characters. It might also have more info on their families and how they reacted and lived with their family member missing.

By the time Dani made it down for the last fetch quest this angel was sending her on, she had managed to hurt herself. Granted she already had a twisted ankle but now her left arm was bleeding from being cut earlier.

Thankfully she found a towel that she was able to wrap around it but she felt like it was going to get infected and that she’ll probably need stitches. Unfortunately, she hasn’t found a single first aid kit.

“Do you see him? The Projectionist. You better stay out of his light if you don’t want any trouble. Just bring me back the pieces I need.” Alice says as Dani slowly wandered down the stairs, leaving the heart up there for last.

As she slowly walked through the ink, she listened to the recording that was sitting on a crate, keeping an eye out for the Projectionist.

She decided that between this recording and the one from the Music Department that this ‘The Projectionist’ was possibly Norman himself.

Trying not to make a sound, she walked through the ink to collect the hearts, hoping this would be fast.

Dani walked for about 20 minutes, going as slow as possible to not make the Projectionist notice her and stopping in the Little Miracle Stations when he was around. She also watched a little bit of the cartoons on the walls, finding them strangely cute.

Once she felt she had all off them, she was about to turn around and head back to the elevator when she noticed a bright light behind her.

Holding her breath, she slowly turned and saw the Projectionist coming down the hall. If she stepped out of the corner and made a run for it, she’ll be right in his path. Otherwise, she was trapped there.

She put the hearts back down and backed up against the wall, shaking and feeling very frightened and vulnerable.

Her breathing became shaky as he stepped into view and stopped for a moment. Trying not to let her breath out, she could only watch as he glanced around for a moment.

Then he started walking again. Accidentally, Dani breathed out. Making him notice her instantly.

The Projectionist ran around the small barrier between them and stopped directly in front of her. His light shining brightly on her face.

Finally, after so much, Dani began to cry. Feeling that this was it and that this giant monster was going to be the one to kill her. She kept stepping backwards, hoping she would just go through the wall like Bendy has been doing and just disappear somewhere else.

With her eyes shut tightly, she raised her hurt arm that had blood all over the towel at this point, and kept it over her eyes due to the light being too bright for her.

She choked out a sob, waiting for death to come. But to her surprise, she heard a small noise as the light dimmed enough so that she could open her eyes again.

Dani did just that, lowering her arm, and stared up at the strange Projectionist, who seemed to of looked down at her with curiosity.

They just stared at each other for a few moments, wondering what the other was thinking, and in eerily peaceful silence.

When Dani sniffled and used her right arm to wipe her tears, that’s when the Projectionist came back from whatever he was thinking about.

He let out a sad noise and raised his hand, making Dani flinch and jump backwards even though she was practically on top of the wall already.

Slowly, he rested his hand on her arm that she held at her chest. “Hurts.” She choked out, her voice sounding strained and tired.

Norman tilted his head at this. He could still hear but unfortunately wasn’t able to speak anymore.

He also wasn’t sure why the girl seemed so afraid of him. Or why she reminded him of someone… a young person that he couldn’t remember.

Why couldn’t he remember!? Of all things…having some sort of memory is all he wants if he can’t be free from this painful body. But he doesn’t remember anything other then the Projector booth and wandering these flooded halls. Not to mention everything that he did to him.  

Deciding that the girl needed his help, Norman grabbed her hand and dragged her into a room and led her to a table. Once she was sitting on it, he held out his hands to tell her to ‘stay’ before turning and grabbing a blanket to put around her shoulders. She was shaking so he figured that might help her calm down and relax.

“Thank you.” She muttered, making Norman feel a little happy.

He held up his hands again and looked at a cabinet in the room with them. Going over to it, he opened it and started looking through everything inside of it, looking for something.

Unsure of what to do, Dani looked around the room. Only thing she could find interesting is that on a desk was a little Boris plushie.

‘Cute little guy.’ She thought but then became worried about the real Boris who was waiting for her. ‘I hope he’ll be okay for a little bit longer.’

She left her thoughts when she realized that Norman got back up and walked over to her with a little box. Dani was able to tell when he closer that it was the first aid kit she was hoping to find.

Dani sighed in relief. Maybe this guy wasn’t going to hurt her. At the same time, Norman opened the box after setting it down beside her.

Feeling a little safer, she unwrapped the towel and grabbed a cloth and a bottle, hoping it’ll still work. She didn’t want to cause herself more pain so she spilled some of the liquid onto the cloth and cleaned her arm of the blood. Then she grabbed some bandages in there and wrapped it up.

“Thank you, Norman.” Dani said, suddenly.

Norman’s light got bright again and he let out a surprised noise as she held her arm up to shield her face from it. That name…he knew that name was familiar. Was it his name? How did she know it?

Knowing he simply couldn’t ask her, Norman went over to the wall and began writing on it.

Is that my name?

“Yes. I think so anyway.” She replied. “Thank you for not killing me.”

He gave a nod before writing again.

Do I know you if I am Norman?

“I’m afraid not. I don’t know anyone here.” Dani replied.

Norman made a sad noise at this. At the same time, Dani left the table and blanket and began walking around, glancing back to see if he wrote anything else on the wall.

When she approached the desk with the Boris plushie, she noticed what looked to be a picture frame on it. It was covered in thick dust though.

“Hm?” She hummed.

Going back to the rag, she decided to try and clean it. Norman noticed this and walked over to her.

Once the picture was as clean as she could make it, she noticed the family in it. A older male being one of the people. She also noticed the teenage girl in it too. ‘This has to be Norman.’ She thought to herself and out of the corner of her eye, she watched him pick up the plushie and then point at the kids.

“Do you remember having kids?” Dani found herself asking.

Norman nodded his head and then wrote on the wall closest to them.

Yes. I had kids. You aren’t her though. You’re different.

Dani looked back at the teenager and decided that must be why he didn’t hurt her. He sees her as a kid. Because he knew he had a few at one point but hasn’t seen them in so long.

Her heart broke when she realized they were all probably long dead. Not having a clue as to what happened to their father or husband.

“This must be you. The real you.” Dani said, staring at the picture, tears forming in her eyes again at the sad situation. “And this must be your family. I’m really sorry, Norman.”

Norman looked at the picture she had cleaned and instantly felt like he did know them. If there was one thing he did remember, it was having kids. So these must be them because the girl said so.

He held the plushie tighter, getting ink all over it.

But he couldn’t remember the older woman. Maybe that was his wife? Why was this girl sorry though? What did she do?

Why are you sorry?

“Norman… Do you remember what year it is?” She felt stupid for asking that. How would he know how long it’s been?

1940s?

“No…” Dani shook her head. “It’s 2017.” (The other one takes place in 2017 too so this one does as well.)

He tilted her head, confused. 2017? How could it of been that long? Maybe she was lying. Like how he did. There has to be proof.

Prove it.

“O-Okay.” She gently put the picture back down and took her phone out.

Norman stared at the object in her hands. What was that little thing?

“This is a phone. A cell phone to be exact.” Dani said, basically reading this thoughts. “It can do more than make phone calls though.”

Unlocking her phone, she showed him some things on it.

Meanwhile, Norman watched in shock and amazement. He knew now that this had to of been the future…er present.

Norman moved back to the wall and pointed at the ‘Sorry’ question. Dani frowned and put her phone back in her pocket.

“Oh… I’m sorry because…well… your family is likely gone.” There was no good way of saying that.

His light dimmed much more than it did earlier as he thought about that. If it was 2017, and it has to be, that makes sense. But it still hurt knowing he might never see his family again.

“Norman…?” She slowly walked up to him, afraid he might attack her.

Norman didn’t make a move. Which worried her. He did make a sad sounding noise that sounded almost like a whimper or cry. As she got closer, she noticed his lens had ink coming down, almost as if he was crying.

“I’m so sorry.” She gently put her left hand on his right arm and began to rub it. “I… I’ll try to save you. And any other employee that I can. I don’t know how or if it’s possible. But I’ll feel awful if I make it out alive while knowing you’re still trapped here.”

He light brightened again but not enough to blind her this time. She watched as he set the plushie down and came back over to hug her. Not feeling afraid this time, she willing wrapped her arms around him and allowed him to hold her for a few minutes. The happy noises he was making told her that he appreciated the thought.

They stayed like that for a short while before he let her go and led her back to where the hearts were. After grabbing them, she started to head out of the maze, surprised that Norman wasn’t following behind her.

‘Maybe he wants to stay here. Probably safer anyway.’ She thought to herself as she headed towards the stairs.

Once at the top, she grabbed the last heart there and noticed that Boris and the elevator were gone.

“Strange…” She muttered and pushed the button.

A few moments later, it came down with one extra being inside.

“Hello sweetheart.” Bendy said, making Dani drop the hearts with a yelp and noticed Boris cowering behind him. “You and I are going to go on a different level and…chat.” He chuckled and Dani stepped back as he stepped forwards.

“Come here.” He said, holding his arms open and grin getting bigger than it already was. “Everything will be just fine… just listen to me and you won’t have to worry about that angel anymore. However, I’ll worry about your dog here if you don’t listen to me.”

Glancing at Boris, she slowly nodded before going over to him, leaving the hearts there and letting him embrace her as he pushed a button.

“Good girly.” Bendy muttered into her ear, holding the petrified girl in his arms in a tight hug. “I think this will be the start of a beautiful partnership. Don’t you think, doll?”

All Dani could do was nod, hoping she wouldn’t have to make a deal with the actual devil himself. Hell, she was still shocked that he could talk.

#BATIM #Bendy and the Ink Machine #AU fic #Projectionist #OC #The Projectionist #Norman Polk