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maemelany · 3 years

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Fixing the Broken (Part 1)

Part 1

Summary:

People say that time heals all wounds. In your case, time made it worst.

You’ve been married to Chris for five years, but his absence spoke louder than his words. After 5 years of trying, you’ve decided that you’ve had enough, and you left him. But Chris doesn’t want to let you go; he doesn’t want to give up on your marriage.

Would he be able to fix what you consider irretrievably broken?

Warning : None

Word count: 1.2k +

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Author’s note: Here’s the first part! I needed to set the scene, but I promise you a lot of angst in the next chapter!

Prologue, Part 2

Masterlist

Denial is the worst kind of lie... because it is the lie you tell yourself.

- Michelle A. Homme

Usually, the first thing Chris does when he comes home is searching for you. Since you work from home, he usually finds you in the study. But tonight, Chris was so tired that he didn’t even notice the house’s deafening silence. He didn’t notice that your room is in perfect order, which was never the case. He didn’t see your many skincare products are missing from your bathroom when he goes to wash his face.

After two extreme months filming his new movie, Chris only wants one thing, sleeping in his own bed.

It’s the sun that waked him up the following day. That’s the first thing that confuses him. You hate sleeping with the curtains opened. Chris even remembers a night you spent together in Paris. He rented a hotel room with a view of the Eifel Tower, but you closed the curtains as soon as you were ready to go to bed. He explained that it would be amazing to see the Eifel Tower with the sun rising, but you didn’t care. It was unthinkable for you to sleep with opened curtains; you felt too exposed.

Chris smiled at that thought. He reached out to your side of the bed, but it’s empty. The clock on his side of the bed signals 9 AM. That was the second sign that something odd was happening. You were not a morning person. Chris always teased you about that. If it was up to you, you would stay in bed until noon. You were most productive after 8PM. That’s why he didn’t overthink it when everything was dark yesterday. He knew you and how focused you tend to be when you were closed to a deadline.

The last thing that made me tick was the fact that Dodger was nowhere to be found. Usually, he would be staring at him, waiting patiently for Chris to wake up. It wasn’t the case today. Chris was alone in the big bed, without his wife and his dog.

Then he remembered you texting him that Dodger would be staying with his sister and the kids. It made sense. When you were under stress, you always feared that Dodger would feel alone or that you would not be attentive enough to his needs. Deep down, he knew you were overthinking it. You loved Dodger, maybe even more than he did, but he understood your need to be safe. That was one of the first things that attracted him to you. You felt safe; you felt like home.

He took a quick shower, deciding that it was time for Dodger to come home. When he went downstairs after his shower, the house was still lifeless.

“Y/N ?” Chris shouted, trying to find you

You weren’t in your study, which again made him raise an eyebrow because of how organized the place was. Chris loved you more than anything, and you had a lot of qualities, maybe too many for your own good, but organized was not one of them. You always described your office as an organized mess necessary for your imagination.

Today the study was pristine. The brown oak desk was spotless, with not even one paper out of place.

Chris was now beyond confused. Something was wrong. Maybe you had writer’s block. It had to be it. He didn’t have time to think too much about it because his sister texted him that he could come and get Dodger now.

He would ask you the questions later. He was even sure that seeing Dodger would cheer you up.

“Uncle Chris!” Stella screamed as soon as she saw Chris

“Are you Stella?” Chris Jokes before lifting you up. “Who is this grownup, and what have you down with my tiny niece Stella?”

Stella laughed. “It’s me, Uncle Chris!”

Chris lifted her down and greeted his nephews. Dodger began to bark as soon as he saw Chris entering the room. He was frenetic, making sounds that made the whole family laugh.

“I know Dodge’, I know,” Chris said, accepting the leaking and the barking.

“How are you?” Carly asked him when the euphory had passed, and everybody had a chance to greet Chris.

Chris knew his sister, and the expression on her face meant something was wrong.

“I’m good. Tired, but I’m okay,” Chris answered.

“Do you…” Started but got interrupted by Scott

“Look who we have here, a ghost from Hollywood!” Scott said before hugging his brother

“You’re not funny Scott, you should really stop trying” Chris joked.

After the children came and ask Scott to help them do something only Scott would accept to do, Chris turned back to his sister.

“You were about to say something”

Carly smiled. A smile that looked somehow sad. “We can talk about it later, or whenever you’re ready”

Chris frowned, confused. He didn’t know what his sister was talking about. He was too happy to be with his niece and nephews to think too much about it.

It was later that day, when they were ready to eat, that everything started to unravel.

“I made your favorite,” Carly said, referring to the dish in her hand.

Chris smiled. “As tempting as it is, I have to decline. Y/N is surely waiting for me to eat too”

Now that he was thinking about it, he surprised him that you hadn’t been calling. He’d been at Carly’s for hours now. He confirmed what he was thinking, you had to be focused on your work, so much that you weren’t even thinking about eating.

“Maybe I should bring some home. Knowing Y/N, she’s still working” Chris added.

Carly looked at Scott with the same worried look she had the whole day.

“What? What’s going on, Carly?” Chris asked

For some reason, his heart started to beat quicker. It was as if he knew something was wrong from the beginning but refused to admit it to himself.

“Carly, tell me what’s wrong”

“Chris… when was the last time you talked to Y/N?” Scott finally said

Chris frowned. “Hmm, a few days ago… I mean… the last week of filming was crazy, but I texted her… I …”

Chris stopped when he realized that he couldn’t remember the last time he had his wife on the phone.

“She texted me… she told me Dodger was with you”

“Chris… Dodger has been here for two weeks now” Carly whispered.

Chris didn’t know what to say. He needed to sit down. Chris didn’t understand what Carly and Scott were trying to tell him. He didn’t want to understand.

“I need to go home. Y/N, I haven’t seen her since…”

And then it hit him. He hadn’t seen you; he hadn’t seen you at all since he came home. He didn’t see you yesterday, and he didn’t see you this morning.

It hit him. It wasn’t that he didn’t see you; you weren’t there at all. You weren’t too busy yesterday when he came back, you didn’t suddenly become a morning person, you weren’t in another room when your office was empty. You simply weren’t there.

Chris fell down, the gravity of the situation punching him in the stomach. “Oh my God,” he murmured.

Carly sat next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Chris… she left”

Chris closed his eyes, the word echoing in his head again and again. Deep down, he knew something was wrong, but hearing it, it hit different.

He sat there in silence with his sister and brother by his side, not saying a word. There weren’t words to be said anyway.

His wife, his love, Y/N, she left him.

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sub-hoshi-enthusiast · 3 years

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Yeah in case everyone forgot, this is in fact a writing blog 😐 I'm sorry for not posting in so long, I was just in this weird writers block for a while 😔 anyways, enjoy :)

Monsta X reaction to somnophilia

Shownu

As the leader of a group of 5 rambunctious man-children (well, more like 4, kihyun isn't as much of a handful) he tends to be exhausted by the time he comes home but at the same time he wants to be able to get intimate with you so he finds himself in a lil bit of a conundrum. Once he stumbles upon somnophilia he honestly doesn't know why he hadn't thought of it sooner. So one night when he gets home, he finds you in the bedroom reading a book and flops down beside you. He starts to leave a trail of lazy kisses along your neck and talks about the new thing he learned. You don't need to be asked twice before you're palming the bulge in his pants as he slowly starts to doze off. His voice ends up getting higher in pitch as he falls asleep, his hips constantly jerking up into your touch. He's in the same boat as Wonho in the sense that he wants you to mark him up so he can see them the next morning. The soreness he feels in his bones when he drags himself out of bed in the morning makes him even crazier for you if that were even possible. All in all he loves you more than life itself and the fact you can use him whenever you want turns him on a lot.

Wonho

You'd have to be crazy to think he wouldn't be into this. Wonho's is so sweet and pliant and just willing to do anything for you at the drop of a hat so you like to treat him sometimes without him having to worry about pleasuring you. The best way to do that is to take care of him when he's sleeping. He looks so cute with his lil cheek squished against his pillow, his shorts riding up to show off even more of his lovely thighs so you can't really stop yourself from being all over him. His favorite thing is when you leave marks all over him while he's sleeping; hickeys that cover his chest, thighs, and neck and well as red lines from your nails raking over his skin or small bruises from where you squeeze him particularly hard. He loves to wake up to the lovely ache all over his skin and he's pleasantly surprised when he looks in the mirror and sees how you've marked him as your own without his knowledge. He'll get all giddy and stare at the marks for hours if he can cause he loves them so much :,))

Minhyuk

Poor puppy can never seem to take his mind off of you, especially when he was sleeping apparently. Of course you loved having intimate time with your boyfriend but you were a little less than enthusiastic when it was at three am and you had to get up for work in four hours. You were suddenly reminded of the conversation you had had with Minhyuk last week, when he told you if he ended up bothering you when you were sleeping with his "problems" (since it happened more often than you would think) you could use him to tire his body out since that seems to be the only way his past partners had been able to solve it. That was what led you to edging his unconscious body four times before deciding to let him cum. It definitely helped diffuse the situation but you couldn't help yourself, he just looks and sounds so pretty moaning for you. It's not like he'd ever stop you from doing it. If the way he came as soon as he woke up to his cock in your mouth was any indication, you were certain he liked it too. Sometimes when he's just starting to wake up in the middle of a session you like to tease him because his brain is so fuzzy he can only chant one phrase over and over. Like if you say "You're my sweet lil puppy, aren't you baby? Such a whore, letting me use your body like this." He'll end up in an endless loop of saying "Your sweet puppy! Your slutty little puppy!" Over and over again until you finally let him cum. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't taken a picture or two before 👀

Kihyun

Not only does he enjoy it, he encourages you to. How can you possibly resist someone so pretty and pliant just waiting to be used?? On the days he gets home before you, he'll make sure to put on some pretty lingerie before falling asleep for you to find when you start running your hands all over his body. It really is impossible to resist him then. You also found out that you could make him start to cry even when he's asleep and you've made it your mission to watch him do it every time after that. His eyes will be closed, some pretty lace adorning his body as his body twitches and spasms in your grasp and after edging him for a little while you see the tears start to trail beautifully down his cheeks and you're certain you've never seen him look more beautiful. He'll be hella embarrassed when he wakes up and feels the tears on his face and he'll jerk his head to the side and bury it into the pillow so you can't see the beauty of his tears which is slightly disappointing but his embarrassed whines make up for it.

Hyungwon

Oh my god he's the biggest slut for somnophilia. There is nothing he wants more than to wake up to the feeling of your strap thrusting into him, his orgasm washing over him as he struggles to comprehend what's happening in the world around him. He loves when you use his body for your own pleasure so he encourages you to use it whenever you want. He also doesn't like being woken up in the middle of the night for anything so it's better for both parties if you just do what you want and let him sleep. And his little whines and whimpers when he's sleeping are even cuter somehow?? It's mostly because when he's awake he's embarrassed by his own noises so he tends to keep them down, but when he's sleeping he no longer has control over how vocal he is so he'll whimper and squirm with the lightest touch. You'll be lightly trailing your fingertips over his inner thighs, watching his breathing pick up before you rake your nails down the sensitive skin just to hear his sweet whimpers as his body jerks under you. He's the prettiest like that so who are you to pass up that opportunity?

Jooheon

I don't know why but I can imagine him being a lil bit of a sleep talker, like if you talk to him when he's sleeping he'll say something back even tho he isn't awake so when you start touching him when he's asleep he'll start babbling even tho he isn't really conscious. You could be touching him and he'll start whining and squirming and if you ask him "How does this feel baby? Knowing I can use your body like my own little toy whenever I want to, huh?" And he'll just start babbling about how good you feel and how much he likes it and it's all kinda slurred together because he isn't awake but it's super fucking cute so you love to do it. Jooheon does enjoy waking up to you playing with him, telling him what a sweet boy he is for you and praising him nonstop. And he already cums relatively quickly but he's so much more sensitive when he's asleep so by the time he wakes up you've already made him cum like three times but he doesn't mind. It's one of the first things he comprehends when he finally does wake up so he starts begging you to milk him of everything he has. It's even cuter if you get some of his cum on your fingers and shove them in his mouth cause he still can't fully comprehend what's happening so his head will flop to the side and the cum you had on your fingers just kinda drips from the corner of his mouth, covering both his cheek and the pillow beneath him. Overall, Jooheon + somnophilia is a true blessing to this world.

Changkyun

2nd biggest slut 😔✊. You can really do whatever you want with him when he's sleeping, he's given you full permission for everything. The only thing off limits is blindfolding cause obviously if he wakes up to being tied up and blindfolded he's gonna freak the fuck out, but everything else is on the table. That being said, however, no matter how many times you've made him cum, if he wakes up to you playing with him while he's tied to the bed he will become hard as a rock. If he doesn't wake up during (somehow) then he immediately gets turned on when he wakes up the next morning to the stinging red marks on his wrists so then you have another problem to deal with. Changkyun is such a sweetheart when he first wakes up as well (if your playing with him) so he'll just sit there with no complaints as you absolutely ravish his tired body. He's so much easier to deal with when he's sleeping cause he can't talk back to you so maybe you should savor the time you have before he fully wakes up, just saying-

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shyrose57 · 3 years

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Brothers anon back again. I had a sort of writers block for the last like 2 days which made it really hard to do some questions, but I got em done finally. Sorry about the wait. This one is split between the numbered questions, and next ask is the other questions you asked!

I think I accidentally skipped a question in the last one. I honestly don't completely remember but in case I did skip it by mistake, the groups first travel out of the city's limits and even further beyond in a carriage. When they reach the end of how far the driver is willing to go they then get out and start walking. With Jackie screaming about how their finally going on a adventure.

1: It thankfully doesn't get to to bad before the others notice. And he immediately told them about Dream, wanting to be very clear with what happened and what they where getting themselves into. But they accepted him anyway and helped him.

2: Isaac is the leader cause Cletus is too much of a wildcard and too impulsive to lead safely, Charles is too shy to lead, and while Benjamin is perfect for leading he doesnt really like leading and is more of a follower than a leader. But Isaac can joke around and gets along with everyone but also be able to take things seriously and know when something needs to be handled.

5: They do not, they last for a few minutes and unless its a healing or regeneration potion (in which it can take a few days for it to fully go away) they have no long lasting affects. They do know of eachothers past to an extent, they know enough to avoid triggers and enough to know what not to do when around eachother. They know through telling eachother, and they feel awful Grievous and Jackie had to deal with that, but leave it in the past and focus on making their current life better.

6: Yes and no, while Jackie did mean to throw it at Ran, he ment for it to just hit nearby him, not directly hit him. It was ment to be more of a scare/intimidation tactic than anything else honestly. Grievous's luck is for basically everything, he has won the lottery twice before actually but only those 2 times, he's correctly guessed how many items are in a container more than a few times as well.

7: I use the height charts and they help mostly for comparison, problem is I have trouble applying it to real world stuff and because of that I still have trouble knowing if something or someone is to tall or short. Jackie can get very mean, like he can make fun of someone who just lost a loved one or experienced a traumatic event at the worst. But he usually doesn't get nearly that mean, most he does normally is making fun of how someone looks or how they do certain things. The others comfort him the best they can when he gets sad, and when he gets mean they either encourage it (Grievous), or discourage it and stop him (Watson. Ran is between either encouraging or discouraging it).

8: He was! He spent most of his life adventuring actually! He misses it somedays now since he lives in Subbin, but he believes giving up his adventuring life for a family and friends who needed him is a more than far trade and would happily pick his family over adventuring again. For around 4 years after Ran left Mizu (including the day he left), Ran traveled everywhere, and learned how to survive himself and taught himself different things, like sewing. Ran has made new socks, fixed clothes, and made blankets for everyone at least once. Watson also designs bows and arrows for show, for top functionality, and for just simple (training) gifts to the others. Ran (and Watson) has visited the nether, though Ran tended to stay in it longer than Watson cause he could withstand the temperatures better. And while digging a new tunnel across the nether he ran into ancient debris, which he then messed with until he figured out to mix it with gold and coat his sword in it. He tried to find more ancient debris but sadly hasn't found any, leaving his sword permanently damaged and at risk of breaking. Jackie isn't good at all at painting, its more of a hobby he's trying out. They try to camp out there at least once a week, where Grievous will sometimes build a pillowfort and either force everyone inside or play a game of capture the fort with them. Sometimes Ran will also read during the pillowfort nights, but not to often. Jackie wants to vist a Snow, Savanna, Jungle, Tagia, and if possible, a Ice Spike biome. He also wants to vist the nether but he'll have to fight Ran on that. Ran and Jackie's secondary titles are in Javanese!

9: Ran just kinda went "Hey Jackie, stand still for a second." "Ok?" And then he just picked him up and threw up.

10: When he's first given dinner after already eaten lunch, he just kinda stares at the food. Then asks if they meant to give him food, and when the others say yes, he asks why because he thought people only ate once every few days. His answer shocked the others and they ask him to explain, and he explains futher that he was only allowed to eat and drink once every 3 days. Their horrified by this answer but explain to him how theres 3 meals a day and he can drink whenever, he doesn't believe them at first but eventually accepts it.

11: When the fishermen first come to Ranbob about their worry, he expresses the same worry as them. But says that it's unlikely Ran will hurt the fishermen specifically, because Rans haunting are already friends with them, and Ran wouldnt risk breaking the friendship unless he deemed it necessary for their safety.

12: Ranbob is sad that Ran goes to such lengths to avoid him and keep people away from him, but he has resigned himself to it. As he knew that if Ran was alive it was greatly unlikely that he would trust him and knew he would be avoided. Which is actually particularly why he believes Ran will never trust him again and why he views Ran as a kind of lost family member. One he'll never get back no matter what he does.

13: Their first stop is a nearby flower biome, and after that Watson has planned to lead them to a waterfall he found with a shattered Savanna somewhat close to it. They plan to travel for a minimum of 6 months, they can actually travel for as long as they want to, but Prokius made them agree that they must be back before the next General Pit Battles (which happens once every 5 years).

14: He would 100% run himself into the ground until he's barely alive while searching for them. Benjamin compares Ranbob wanting to go back to Dream, to an abused person wanting to go back to their abusive lover. They believe they've changed and that they truly do love them and want the best for them, but in reality that's not it at all and others have to help them see thats not true and help them save themselves. So it doesn't surprise Benjamin or Isaac that much (it surprises Charles and Cletus though), and after its explained to them, their all more than willing to help Ranbob get over Dream and help him be himself again.

15: Oh definitely. Once they hear the Green-Eyed Enderman is back from hiding they all set out again, and after the group gets attacked and once word spreads that its in a group and there's another enderman with them, they all get targeted. With the Gladiators and Fishermen being targeted as bait or hostages to try to trick the enderman into following a trap. Ran wasnt affected like his brother was. Im talking about trauma and maybe even a bit of PTSD that came from Mizu, caused by Dream. Though both of the brothers have gained different amounts of trauma and PTSD from Dream. I may give the raven to either Watson or Ran, I think its fits both of them really well. I want to have them come across ruins of other Tales but im not sure which ones. Maybe they could find the remains of the Wild West Tale and the Haunted Mansion?

Glad to see you, Brothers Anon, and excited to read!

1: The perfect start to an Adventure. And a funny mental image. Imagining these two groups cramped into carriages is pretty amusing. How ready was everyone to get out by the time they could?

2: The fishermen are really great, and Ranbob is very lucky. I love them.

3: Isaac sounds like he’s a pretty good fit for it then. But nobody’s perfect! What are some flaws of his, leadership-wise?

5: Interesting. What makes Regeneration and Healing last longer? I suppose it’s not relative to the AU, but I am a bit curious. What’s the world’s potions mechanisms, if you don’t mind me asking? And that’s good! They may not know everything, but they know what to avoid, and that’s important. Everyone’s moved forward and are making the best of life, and honestly, that’s pretty cool of them.

6: Welp, Jackie, it seems intimidation tactic failed. However, you have managed to anger Ran, so..there’s that. He won the lottery? Dang. Well, if they ever need money, they can just send him to the nearest casino, I suppose.

7: Aight, so I may have a solution for you there. Whatever height you’re going for, find something in real life that’s just about the same height. Like a tree, or something. Or not, we can always just leave it at short enough to be tossed and tall enough to be the tosser. Jackie sounds like he knows where to hit to make it hurt, honestly. It’s good that they comfort him, though I am curious why they all react as they do to him being mean. Why does Grievous encourage it? And is it more of a depends on the day thing for Ran, or a depends on what was said to Jackie, and what Jackie’s saying thing?

8: Nice! What kind of places did he go? Does he have any particularly interesting knickknacks from that time period? And Ran personally sounds like he knows what he’s doing. Watson’s weapons sound really cool, where did he learn to make them? Is visiting the Nether not a common occurrence these days? Or is it simply that the others never got around to it before? Well, hobbies are always fun to try. Does Jackie keep at it and get better or get bored and try something else? How does Capture the Fort go with these guys, considering they’re gladiators? Why does Jackie want to visit those particular biomes? Is there a reason, or do they just sound cool to him? And why would Ran not want them going to the Nether? Because of the danger?

9: FDXGHJ- He just- tossed him?? No warning?? Oh my gods, I’m dying. How did Jackie react to that? Heck, how did Porkius react to that? I doubt anyone was expecting that display.

10: Oh, no. Now I really want to punch Dream in the face. What the heck, Dream?! He legit asks if they meant to give him food...If one of the fishermen or gladiators doesn’t eventually find a way to punch Dream, I will be forced to travel realities and do it myself.

11: Kind of sad that Ranbob was equally concerned about it. But hey! He won’t have to be, one day!

12: Poor Ranbob. I hope he’s proven wrong, eventually. Do the fishermen know that he thinks this? If so, how do they feel about it? Or does he kind of just keep those thoughts to himself?

13: Flower biomes are really pretty. What did everyone think about it? Did they bring any flowers with them? So this roadtrip could possibly go on for a few years. Did they leave just after a General Pit Battle, or do they have like, less than five years? Speaking of General, is Jackie still the General in this AU? Does he have extra duties because of it? Or is that not something that happened in this AU?

14: Yikes. Reactions to this? Why does Ranbob believe Dream’s changed, as you put it? Is Dream still able to talk to him, or is it because he just misses being there? So Benjamin and Isaac aren’t all that surprised about it. Do they take the reins in helping out? And how do they all do so? It’s good that they’re helping him though.

15: Well, this sounds like it can’t end well. They try to use the hauntings as bait? Is anyone actually captured? Rescue missions? And alright, that makes a bit more sense. I can see how they’d both be effected differently, and honestly, they’d probably both have very different perspectives of the event, all things considered. Ravens for the win! And it’d be really cool for them to come across the ruins of old Tales buildings. Can you imagine the kind of things they’d find? Diaries, faded photographs, moth-eaten clothes, blood stained floors...Like a walk in the past, but they’ll never know what came to be for the people of that time.

#Brothers AU #dream smp #dream smp au #ranbob #tales from the smp #ran #jackie #watson #grievous #isaac #benjamin #cletus #charles #porkius

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thegirlwholied · 3 years

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hello i am sorry to bother you here but i thought i will try to ask you about your amazing fanfic on ao3 (love's such an old fashioned word). i found it yesterday and since than i'm keep thiking about it. please tell me you will continue it! i left a review for you on the website but i've seen you don't really active there anymore:( i really hope i won't come off as a weirdo or anything just i really loved your story:) i wish you the best:))

It's never a bother & you found the very best way to contact me! I do always get & so deeply appreciate the AO3 emails but when it comes to actual *replies* tend to do that in batches eons & eons later... but always happy to talk fic on Tumblr! Thank you for asking, & sending lots of good vibes your way; I wish I had a fic update to send but alas I am nowhere near one.

I'm so glad you're enjoying love's such an old-fashioned word & I do think about it all the time myself... but. In that case why isn't it updated? Truth?

Well. I mean, yes, I intend to finish it. It’s not writer’s block; I know what happens next and how it ends. So uh why is this one not finished?

-I'm not the fastest updater in the best of times (see: the start date of my finished fics vs. when I ended them, lol).

-We are not in the best of times.

-(I'm very lucky to still be working and that my job was already remote and that I have off weekends and the usual holidays but)

I have taken one week off work since Oct. 2019, my last real vacation, and that was only a long weekend. My free time is limited and my energy is low!

- I've prioritized my own fiction over fan fiction for the past decade really; in 2020 the draw of nostalgia & escapism & need for any sense of accomplishment & connection really drove me back toward fan fic (but...) - my own stories are still my priority...

- ...whenever I get writing again because I’m coming off what turned out to be a concussion and genuinely haven’t written much at all since September. I'm trying to get back now though! To any story that’ll have me!

- But.

- My (stupid) concussion was Sept; my last update of the fic was end of May.

- So?

- June.

Basically... J.K. Rowling happened to June.

I mean that sums it up really, and you didn't come to my inbox for my opinion on *that* but uh yikes of yikeses @ all that, and I said a bit here and this was still in my drafts so I’ve posted it, as this too I guess.

Anyway, June stopped my happy-fic writing pretty cold. I can only imagine (and read about!) how it made other fans feel.

So! I feel pretty weird about how much time & love & energy I have put into writing HP fics over the years! How much time & love & energy I put into writing as-canon-as-possible, combed-through-those-books-like-Bibles fics! I don’t just magically un-love the books, not by any means, not something I loved that hard growing up especially, but uh. Yeah. It’s kind of a weird, drained-out feeling when I think about that. Which especially sucks, in a year when the world itself is draining, and my love of Harry Potter’s world was this joyful, freeing thing to escape back to and share with fellow fans.

I’m not trying to inflict my drain on anyone! The sense of accomplishment & connection regarding fan fiction, including HP fanfiction, is still there too! That people read my fic means so much to me, and how we’ve all shared a love of these characters all these years, and I have no intent to let kind readers like you down. I want to finish my own darn stories for myself, too; I write what I want to read. I want to read the end of that story. Written - and this is key - in a non-joy-sucking mood.

And this story, particularly, a fic featuring how Petunia, lost in a smallness and meanness she herself doesn’t even see, can surprise us and still be better, a story hinged on hope and belief that people can change, even if they usually don’t, even if only in an alternate universe, things could be a little bit brighter?

Don’t worry. While I’m sorry that I can make no promises as to when! - I’m sure as hell finishing that one. <3

#answers #it hasn't been a great couple years for properties i loved between hp and buffy #and those are things that ended well and I thought time couldn't touch them! whoops!#not the answer you were looking for I know but it is the truth!#i really need to get moving on my own stories again #also this is what usually delays me from ao3 review replies:#i go to answer one feel guilty for not answering them all decide they would all prob appreciate a fic update more...#but yeah i haven't even been making it to the document-opening stage of writing lately #and yet I rambled all this!#still good at rambling at least!#that's something!#...just spent more time than I meant to rambling that's not ideal!#but anyway much love and just know with my fics there is always hope #i try to make updates worth the wait!#the happy few #on writing #my fic #hp

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loki-hargreeves · 4 years

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New ask game for writers: 1. 4. 5. 10. 11. 13. 14. 17. 19. 22. 23. 27. 30. 33. 34. 36. 37. 39. 40. 41. 49. 50. 51. 52. 54. ... i am sorry they are all so good ... so i wanna know all

First of all, I want to say I love you. Thank you for sending them in! <3

(new ask game for writers)

1. Favourite place to write.

My bedroom, candlelit and all, preferably with coffee nearby. My room is my own little bubble where I can actually get creative things done.

4. Do you have writing habits or rituals?

Yes! I light up candles whenever I can and I brew a pot of coffee. I also play music that would suit the thing I’m writing. I have an angst playlist for sad stories etc.

5. Books or authors that influenced your style the most.

I started to write fanfiction as a literal kid because I was in love with Erin Hunter’s warrior cats books. Also, I’d say R.L. Stine’s goosebumps books have inspired me a lot. Recently, fanfiction inspires me a lot and old classics. Shakespeare is my favourite right now!

On tumblr, @delicrieux inspired me to make this blog and I am forever grateful for finding her amazing works.

10. Pick a writer to co-write a book with and tell us what you’d write about.

Ooh, I like this one. I would absolutely love to write an angsty/horror book with Stephen King! Probably a murder mystery, but I want to fill it with twists and just unthinkable solutions.

13. How do you deal with writer's block?

I procrastinate a lot. I either just sleep all day and feel bad for not writing, or I try to focus on art. Sometimes focusing on other things is a good canvas for fresh ideas.

14. What’s the most research you ever put into a book?

Once, I wrote a 100K word fanfic about Titanic so I read a lot of books about the ship and I watched a bunch of documentaries too. I also researched a lot in general of the early 1900s so I could try to make it as authentic as possible. I’m sad that I deleted it though. It was a lot of work.

17. On average, how much writing do you get done in a day?

This can be from 0 words to 20K words. But on average, I’d say I write about 1K words. Even if I don’t finish a fic, I try to write something every day.

19. First line of a WIP you’re working on.

“Mysteries have long questioned humanity on Earth, made mankind scratch their heads in wonder as they pondered what could possibly be the reasoning behind the odd things that occurred.”

22. How many drafts do you need until you’re satisfied and a project is ultimately done for you?

Honestly, very few. I tend to write on the go. Usually, I have two or three drafts and the rest just comes with time.

23. Single or multi-POV, and why?

It depends on the story. Personally, I like to write single POV better, but when I try to make the story oblivious and full of misunderstandings, multi-POV is much better.

27. Do you share rough drafts or do you wait until it’s all polished?

Sometimes, yeah. I usually ask my best friend for opinions and sometimes I might explain my plots to close friends. But that’s rare. They tend to stay in my head.

30. Favourite line you’ve ever written.

Well, it’s more than just one line, but I couldn’t think of anything else, I’m sorry!

“Their lips touched gently, yet all their love poured into it. For that short, beautiful moment, they tried to forget it was their final kiss goodbye. It was their final kiss on the same fields where they had their first. A kiss to seal the chapter of their love story to an end. “

33. Do you listen to music when you’re writing?

Always.

34. Handwritten notes or typed notes?

Handwritten! They feel more personal. It’s romantic.

37. Most inspirational quote you’ve ever read or heard that’s still important to you.

“You can be anything you want to be, just turn yourself into anything you think that you could ever be.”

39. Do you base your characters of real people or not? If so, tell us about one.

Yes, I do that quite often, but not always. I tend to base them on people I know or even celebrities.

If I have to write about someone who is being nasty or rude, I just imagine whatever my highschool bully would say/do.

40. Original Fiction or Fanfiction, and why?

Original fiction because it is the source for fanfiction. Without it, we wouldn’t have fanfiction at all.

41. How many stories do you work on at one time?

Too many.

49. What do you find the hardest to write in a story, the beginning, the middle or the end?

The middle, maybe. I try to avoid plain, boring ‘grey spots’ in fics and they always form in the middle. I hate that.

50. Weirdest story idea you’ve ever had.

It’s kind of weird, but I loved it.

So it’s about these creatures ‘ethereal explorers’(EE) that travel through dimensions/alternate universes. They keep track of different worlds, collect stuff and study creatures etc. Their main purpose is to be a messenger and try to keep up peace. Some of the EEs are good, others are evil.

Only these creatures can travel through many dimensions at once, but a human can only travel through one at the time safely. Then one day, a human slips into a portal accidentally and goes through multiple dimensions and miraculously survives, which is a 0.1% case. The ethereal explorer finds this human and is naturally interested to know how they survived.

The story revolves around the human and the EE as he is taking her home to her home dimension, which means they have to travel through 20 something dimensions. Of course, during that time they get into danger but they also get closer.

52. How did writing change you?

In many ways. Writing has brought me closer to other people. It has made me patient and perhaps wiser when it comes to choosing my words.

Writing has made me an old soul. I have studied the past so much and fallen in love with a time that is no longer.

54. Any writing advice you want to share?

Don’t worry too much about what other people will think about your writing. Write whatever you like and so you build an audience that likes that as well.

Take your time. Don’t pressure yourself or force yourself to write when you don’t want to. If you don’t feel like writing, but you have ideas please write them down. I hate how many times I’ve lost ideas because I didn’t do this.

And listen to music! Music can set the mood to writing and it’s magical.

Just be you. Don’t be anything you aren’t, it won’t work in the long run.

Thank you once again! This was fun :)

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thursdays-fallen-angel · 5 years

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Prompts: Classic winter fluff (bed sharing, snowed in, white elephant, etc). one is sick and grumpy. Your neighbor is trying to learn an instrument and is so bad but wait they’re cute. The word “maniacal”. I hope u can work through ur writer’s block!!

(I managed to hit some classic winter fluff, with snow-ins and a power outage, AND neighbor is trying to learn an instrument and is so bad but so cute. Thanks for the prompts!

***

The snow started on Tuesday. It continued through Wednesday without stopping, slowed enough to give people hope on Thursday, then picked right back up and didn’t cease through the weekend. Some people are ecstatic about the snowfall, thrilled by the picturesque winter weather and the excuses to either explore the snowy landscape or sit bundled-up indoors, but that doesn’t include all people.

It certainly doesn’t include Castiel.

Castiel has never had anything against snow. Sure, he grew up in a more southern climate than the one he now lives in, where snow was more of a movie thing than a real life thing, but that doesn’t make the snow bad in and of itself.

The issue is the quantity of the snow.

And the fact that, thanks to that snow, Castiel now can’t leave his apartment.

And, thanks to the snow, his apartment is so damn cold.

When there’s over a foot of snow on the ground, it makes sense that everything is going to be cold. No one can get anywhere, and with the cold as heavy and persistent as it is, it’s perfectly logical for it to have swept into every facet of Castiel’s life. It’s impossible to escape.

Still, Castiel does the best he can with it. He keeps himself bundled up with thick socks and sweaters, cranks his heat up as high as it will go, and plugs away at his laptop. He’s not thrilled to be trapped in his apartment as he is, but most of his work is done from home anyway, so there isn’t too much to be lost for it, at least.

Then on Saturday night, the power goes out, and the cold gets a hell of a lot worse. Without the furnace, there’s no escaping the frigid air. Castiel’s laptop dies before long. When he’s left with nothing to do and no warmth but what little he can find by wrapping himself in blankets, the misery sets in in full.

But it’s fine. Completely fine. Castiel is more than capable of coping, and the crews working on restoring the power promise that they’re doing all they can to get it back up as quickly as possible. Surely it won’t take too long.

Just as the last of the daylight fades into night, there’s a sound from the apartment to the left of Castiel’s. It’s hard to decipher what it is at first, beyond just a loud clash of incohesive notes, but the longer it continues, the more clear it becomes.

It’s a guitar.

His neighbor is trying to play a guitar.

And he’s terrible at it.

Castiel groans and pulls the blankets he is cocooned in up and over his head, like that might somehow block out the sound of the guitar as it filters through the wall. It doesn’t.

In the end, all he can do is cross his fingers and hope his neighbor’s desire to play the guitar doesn’t last too long.

So of course, it lasts until well after midnight.

Castiel wants to die.

Twenty-four hours.

Castiel’s neighbor strums at his guitar like a tone-deaf toddler for twenty-four hours. Not continuously, of course, because he does seem to at least stop to eat and sleep, but the guitar is still a constant soundtrack for Castiel’s miserable, freezing-cold day. Because of course the power is still off. Of course the snow is still too deep to allow for travel—or in Castiel’s case, for escape. Of course Castiel is trapped in his own, personal hell.

All of his electronics are dead. He’s starting to run out of candles to keep his apartment lit. He’s spent so much time reading that he’s growing sick of it, and can’t look at a book without the words swimming on their pages. His neighbor isn’t getting any better with his guitar.

Truth be told, it’s pretty much a miracle that Castiel makes it anywhere near the twenty-four hour mark before he snaps. But when he does snap—all of his patience disappears at once. He’s pissed about the cold, he’s pissed about his own boredom, and he’s really pissed about the goddamn guitar being played next door. He shoves out of his couch-cocoon with a huff, bundles himself up with some additional layers (because when the weather is like this, two pairs of socks and three sweatshirts is barely enough, especially if he’s going outside), and then storms out of his apartment before he can lose his motivation.

He needs the guitar to stop. He can’t listen to it anymore. He can’t. He’s going to lose his goddamn mind.

He stomps over to his neighbor’s door and bangs his fist against it. Inside the apartment, he can hear the strumming of the guitar come to an abrupt halt. Castiel huffs again, breath clouding in front of his face. He shifts in place while he waits for his neighbor to come to the door, cursing the fact that they live in an apartment complex with exterior access instead of indoor hallways. He typically enjoys the freedom of not being constrained in an interior apartment, but right now, he just doesn’t want to be so cold.

Thankfully, before Castiel can decide to say fuck it and scurry back into his own apartment and the safety it offers from the elements, his neighbor’s door swings open. He takes a deep breath and immediately begins to rant, determined to get this over with as quick as possible so that he can go back to huddling in his blankets.

“Hello, I live just next door to you, and I’m sorry to have to say this, but—” He abruptly cuts himself off, an observation hitting him. He blinks at his neighbor. “Why is your apartment so warm?”

His neighbor blinks right back. “Uh…” The man rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck, and Castiel takes the motion as an excuse to run his eyes over his body. While Castiel is bundled up for sub-freezing weather, his neighbor is… not. Yes, he has thick socks on, but aside from that he’s only wearing jeans and a flannel over a band tee. He looks comfortable.

And through the opening in his front door, his apartment radiates warmth.

Castiel narrows his eyes and presses, “Why is your apartment so warm.”

He gives Castiel a shy, but dazzling smile. “The, uh… corner units have fireplaces?”

A fireplace. Castiel is slowly turning into a popsicle, and his neighbor has a fireplace. No wonder he’s so casually playing (or, failing to play) the guitar. He has nothing else to worry about.

Castiel doesn’t realize that he’s staring until his neighbor flashes him another, smaller smile and says, “You said you’re next door? I don’t know how we haven’t met yet, but—I’m Dean. I’ve only been in here for a couple months.”

He extends a hand, and it only takes Castiel a handful of seconds to get himself together enough to shake it.

“Castiel,” he says in return. “Um. Yes. Yes, I’m next door. I… don’t know how we haven’t met, either.”

He does know. He doesn’t leave his apartment very often, because he tends not to need to. And whenever he does go out, his hours tend to be irregular.

Now that he’s looking at Dean, though, he finds it amazing that he’s truly never run into him. Because this is a face he would remember seeing.

His neighbor is… surprisingly attractive.

Why is Castiel standing in front of him, again?

“Well, even if we haven’t met.” Dean shrugs, then takes a half step back and nods toward the interior of his apartment. “You’ve gotta be freezing. Want to come in and warm up? I’ve got more than enough room for two.”

“Oh. Well.” Castiel clears his throat. Even if his neighbor wasn’t so devastatingly gorgeous (because he definitely is, the longer Castiel spends staring at him, the more clear that fact becomes), there’s no way that’s an offer he would be able to refuse. Dean’s apartment is so warm, and they aren’t even near the fireplace. “If you don’t mind… that would be very nice.”

Dean grins and moves aside to let Castiel step past him. Once he’s in the apartment, Castiel shivers at the warmth which immediately begins to seep into his bones. He gravitates toward the fire, eager to chase the chill away entirely. Dean follows after him, and they end up sitting together on the floor in front of the fireplace, huddling fairly close as they enjoy the warmth.

And from there, they talk. At first they chat about their apartments (Castiel is very jealous of Dean’s fireplace, thank you very much), then about themselves, and they start to get to know each other. It’s amazing how quickly Castiel becomes fond of Dean, but within a matter of hours, he is incredibly fond.

So fond, in fact, that when Dean eventually grabs up his guitar and says, “I’m trying to teach myself how to play,” Castiel can’t even bring himself to object.

Maybe it’s okay if Dean is terrible at playing the guitar.

At least he’s cute.

#destiel #destiel fanfic #deancas #prompt fill #makenna's writing #anonymous #replies

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losingmyweigh · 5 years

Text

The doors are closing in 8hours you will be locked out in the snow when it is

-2 degrees and you will remember to have your key card on you at all times, these are the good things that they drilled into us. Some of us learned to keep better track of our belonging. I forgot and DTL swiped me in. Some of us learned to steal things from the lost n found at the end of the month before they “donated it to goodwill” the truth of the matter was S.D. and Sh.Ma. would let me pick through these rich girls trash for a good winter coat, a good rain jacket, something that I just didn’t have. I never went hungry but I often went cold. It’s hard to be self-actualized when you are fighting off pneumonia every winter.

“Stress will kill you” my grand ma tells me

I was always stressed. I was always between a rock (my homophobic) parents and my (jungle fevered white male history prof that got off on traumatizing me “for my art”) hardplace

Per usual for a black woman.

I loved DTL with my whole heart and I think he loved me, the morning after I came into class visibly shaken.

He pulled me aside and asked what was wrong. I whispered that I couldn’t say it here. Someone might know.

After class he takes me to his office offers me coffee, I always politely decline. I start to tell him what had happened the night before. He turns on a song he wants me to hear. It’s strange fruit by Billie Holiday I am physically safe and warm and content. Emotionally I am torn apart. Years stream down my face as he plays music for me in the empty history wing.

It’s my fault. I begged for it didn’t I? I looked him in the eye as he spoke in class. I wrote down everything important and nothing that wasn’t. My hand popped up up up with questions and answers and observations and clarifying questions.

I’m not good at understanding when words are sung. I only hear the beauty of the music. I tend to block out the lyrics in case they make me sad

It’s not good when I get sad

He printed out the lyrics and gave them to me. They’ll be in my room somewhere, I’ll have to look for it.

“Southern trees bear a strange fruit

Blood on the leaves and blood at the root

Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze

Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees”

Her gentle voice croons.

“Pastoral scene of the gallant South

The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth

Scent of magnolia, sweet and fresh

Then the sudden smell of burning flesh

Here is a fruit for the crows to pluck

For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck

For the sun to rot, for the tree to drop

Here is a strange and bitter crop.”

At the word suck he places his hand on my shoulder lovingly. I jump up and start sobbing.

I tell him DTL, “rumors only grow, and we both know what we know.”

I start talking quickly. I can’t help but do it when I’m nervous. It makes me sound excited but on the opposite side of excitement is fear. I’m usually just afraid.

I tell him how my brother and I got pulled over for nothing just trying to get home last night.

It tell him listenting to songs like that can send me into episodes, bloody noses, fainting fits. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I passed out in MR during O’s beautiful morning reports speech after meeting with DTL. I didn’t get to hear it I was too busy with my ass in the floor holding on to SA for dear life.

We are back in the office listening to Billie. He tells me to use my trauma for my art, it’ll make me feel better. He makes me write down the story I just told him. He tells me “trauma is great for my art, this’ll be a great piece, I don’t need to worry.” I tell him I don’t want to write that mess down onto paper, it would be too much. He tells me to, “Type it if that makes you feel better but this is due tomorrow.” No comma. It wasn’t a suggestion it was an order. And I was the troop that always fell in line.

“It makes me a better writer. I can see two worlds.” -W.E.B. Dubois

The duality of man, one of his favorite topics. He looks up to Frederick Douglass and W.E.B. Duboise. He looked up to me. I was 16 with a gifted tongue and a quick wit that only got better with age. The older I got the less I needed him. And that made him angry.

My grandma always told me my mouth would get me in trouble.

The way Billie Holiday sings “suck” is stuck in my head like there’s a skip in the record.

His other interest was black anything. Movies, art, music, childish Gambino and Ella Fitzgerald and Spike Lee and do the right thing and it goes on and on. He wanted me to see it all.

He wanted to “expose me to new things..”

Whenever he tried to take things a step too far I walked him back a step.

I was scared of him all the time.

I was terrified of him 3 times.

Those were the only times he truly reminded me of my father.

He had a short fuse and was incredibly passionate about his job. He was a workaholic like me. We bonded in that library. I’d tell my friend my senior year sorry I can’t hang out I have to meet with DTL. He’d try to seduce me and I tried to squeeze him for every bit of information I could have. Black people don’t like talking about their trauma for a reason. White people have made and continue to make it hard to have those conversations. Especially with ourselves.

It’s hard, it’s scary it makes the pain real. It gives you bloody noses and fainting spells. They call it epilepsy because they don’t know that your brain can and will short circuit when under extended pressure. When you go from eustress to distress shit can get ugly. The call it demensia when your elderly black people get it. Like a testy car alarm in a strong wind. They go off.

Beloved. Toni Morison. Maya Angelou. These were my favorites. He knew that. I suggested these women to him in class one day.

I still need to read Song of Solomon. These are things he pushed me to explore.

He knew the trauma would help my art,

And that’s what I wanted right?

No! I was a child. I was 16 and I was carrying the weight of DTL’s catholic guilt/niggersgettinlynchedandburned.

It’s fine if you don’t believe me. This is my truth.

This is my truth and I will sing it from the mountain tops. This is my truth and I will sing it until I’m free.

I have never known love with out pain but you’re not going to stop me from loving and living well.

He called me eloquent and Esnyder said yes that was problematic. It was problematic because the warm prickly behind the world word,“éloquent,” is that it means you subverted expectations. I’m a black girl from the shitty side of New York, I’m not supposed to use words like vivacious or convivial, not supposed to sing like an angel and shout like a siren.

I am black

I am not meant to be beautiful and yet

Still I rise.

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forsetti · 6 years

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On Defending Misogyny: Ross Douthat Edition

Ross Douthat’s latest nonsense in the New York Times is quite the pile of crap, even when compared to other piles of crap written by Douthat. Here is my take on the article (Douthat’s article in bold.) One lesson to be drawn from recent Western history might be this: Sometimes the extremists and radicals and weirdos see the world more clearly than the respectable and moderate and sane. All kinds of phenomena, starting as far back as the Iraq War and the crisis of the euro but accelerating in the age of populism, have made more sense in the light of analysis by reactionaries and radicals than as portrayed in the organs of establishment opinion. Not one single person with an ounce of credibility thinks that extremists and radicals and weirdos see the world clearly because SEEING THE WORLD CLEARLY IS ANTITHETICAL TO BEING AN EXTREMISTS, RADICAL, OR WEIRDO. The ONLY way Douthat's statement makes any sense is if he thinks people with enough common sense to know invading Iraq on bogus reasons with zero plan on what to do after the initial invasion was a fucking horrible idea, were extremist, radical, weirdo.

This is part of why there’s been so much recent agitation over universities and op-ed pages and other forums for debate. There’s a general understanding that the ideological mainstream isn’t adequate to the moment, but nobody can decide whether that means we need purges or pluralism, a spirit of curiosity and conversation or a furious war against whichever side you think is evil.

For those more curious than martial, one useful path through this thicket is to look at areas where extremists and eccentrics from very different worlds are talking about the same subject. Such overlap is no guarantee of wisdom, but it’s often a sign that there’s something interesting going on.

A classic Douthat move-lay out a completely bogus claim right out of the block and then construct a whole argument on top of it.

Which brings me to the sex robots. People having opinions about the Iraq war and the European Union logically leads us to sex robots because of course it fucking does.

Well, actually, first it brings me to the case of Robin Hanson, a George Mason economist, libertarian and noted brilliant weirdo. Commenting on the recent terrorist violence in Toronto, in which a self-identified “incel” — that is, involuntary celibate — man sought retribution against women and society for denying him the fornication he felt that he deserved, Hanson offered this provocation: If we are concerned about the just distribution of property and money, why do we assume that the desire for some sort of sexual redistribution is inherently ridiculous?

If you use “libertarian,” you don't get to follow it up with “brilliant.” Never....fucking ever. As crazy as that juxtaposition of terms is the casual acceptance by Douthat of what “incel” means is even more disturbing. The idea that women in society have to have sex with men is repulsive on every level. That someone gives voice to this notion and give it its own term is fucked up beyond reason. Sorry men, women are not here for you to have sex with. Here's a thought, if men want to have sex with women, then maybe, just maybe, they should behave in ways that women deem appropriate enough to where they will give up their bodies willingly to them. Anything short of this is misogyny at the least and rape a the most. After all, he wrote, “one might plausibly argue that those with much less access to sex suffer to a similar degree as those with low income, and might similarly hope to gain from organizing around this identity, to lobby for redistribution along this axis and to at least implicitly threaten violence if their demands are not met.” Let me de-fuckify this statement because it is a Ceasar's Word Salad of nonsense. “Men who don't get as much sex as they want, think they deserve, need to band together to find ways, even through violence, to get women to fuck them against their wills.”

This argument was not well received by people closer to the mainstream than Professor Hanson, to put it mildly. A representative response from Slate’s Jordan Weissmann, “Is Robin Hanson the Creepiest Economist in America?”, cited the post along with some previous creepy forays to dismiss Hanson as a misogynist weirdo not that far removed from the franker misogyny of toxic online males.

I can't understand why the “mainstream” would find the unionization of violent, horny men hell-bent on making women their sexual subjects offensive. But, see what Douthat has done. He has already constructed his argument where the mainstream is the ones who don't “see the world clearly.” Since the mainstream has been pigeon-holed as not seeing reality for what it really is, then it logically follows for Douthat that their view cannot be correct.

But Hanson’s post made me immediately think of a recent essay in The London Review of Books by Amia Srinivasan, “Does Anyone Have the Right To Sex?” Srinivasan, an Oxford philosophy professor, covered similar ground (starting with an earlier “incel” killer) but expanded the argument well beyond the realm of male chauvinists to consider groups with whom The London Review’s left-leaning and feminist readers would have more natural sympathy — the overweight and disabled, minority groups treated as unattractive by the majority, trans women unable to find partners and other victims, in her narrative, of a society that still makes us prisoners of patriarchal and also racist-sexist-homophobic rules of sexual desire.

There is a lot to unpack here. First, Douthat uses a philosopher, in order to bolster the credibility of his argument. As someone with two degrees in philosophy, I can tell you that there are a lot of batshit crazy people with philosophy degrees who throw out outlandish arguments for no other reason than to be controversial and get their shit published in order to placate the Publish or Perish Gods. Second, having sympathy for how a culture views and treats groups outside the accepted norms like “overweight,” “trans,” “disabled,”... who have a difficult time having sex for a host of reasons is, to quote Samuel L. Jackson in Pulp Fiction, “...ain't the same fucking ballpark. It ain't the same league. It ain't even the same fucking sport.” Third, Douthat, a devout Catholic who has carried water for the patriarchy, for misogynists, for homophobes...for years now doesn't get to pretend he is worried about the very structure he helped build.

Srinivasan ultimately answered her title question in the negative: “There is no entitlement to sex, and everyone is entitled to want what they want.” But her negative answer was a qualified one. While “no one has a right to be desired,” at the same time “who is desired and who isn’t is a political question,” which left-wing and feminist politics might help society answer differently someday. This wouldn’t instantiate a formal right to sex, exactly, but if the new order worked as its revolutionary architects intended, sex would be more justly distributed than it is today.

Not only did Douthat use a philosopher to bolster his argument, he completely misused their words in order to do so. Notice how he uses Srinivasan's comment, “who is desired and who isn't is a political question,” and dovetails his own comment “which left-wing and feminist politics might help society answer differently someday,” as if they were one and the same statement. Every culture has their own ideas of what is/isn't sexually desirable. It has nothing to do with “left-wing” or “feminist” politics. Some cultures sexually value heavier companions, those with smaller feet, those with longer necks, those with fairer skin... We can argue the rationality of all of these but none of them are based on leftist or feminist beliefs. In fact, left-leaning and feminists would argue the fuck against these arbitrary sexual values.

A number of the critics I saw engaging with Srinivasan’s essay tended to respond the way a normal center-left writer like Weissmann engaged with Hanson’s thought experiment — by commenting on its weirdness or ideological extremity rather than engaging fully with its substance. But to me, reading Hanson and Srinivasan together offers a good case study in how intellectual eccentrics — like socialists and populists in politics — can surface issues and problems that lurk beneath the surface of more mainstream debates.

By this I mean that as offensive or utopian the redistribution of sex might sound, the idea is entirely responsive to the logic of late-modern sexual life, and its pursuit would be entirely characteristic of a recurring pattern in liberal societies.

Shorter Douthat: “Smart people reacting honestly to the arguments of a libertarian nut job don't know what the fuck they are doing but I, a dyed-in-the-wool social conservative does because of some magical reason that is never explained.” If you think placating angry, resentful, horny men is the way to utopia, I'm pretty sure you are either stupid as fuck and/or just about the most intellectually dishonest person I've ever read.

First, because like other forms of neoliberal deregulation the sexual revolution created new winners and losers, new hierarchies to replace the old ones, privileging the beautiful and rich and socially adept in new ways and relegating others to new forms of loneliness and frustration. Douthat's use of “neoliberal” was done on purpose and as meaningless as the term itself. What Douthat really means by this statement is, “In the past, men could do whatever the fuck they wanted to women, whenever they wanted and women had to take it because that is the fucking way it was. Now men can't do this and they are having a sad about it so we need to blame the women and those who support them instead of the fuck wad misogynists who were morally wrong 50, 100, 200... years ago for their behaviors.”

Second, because in this new landscape, and amid other economic and technological transformations, the sexes seem to be struggling generally to relate to one another, with social and political chasms opening between them and not only marriage and family but also sexual activity itself in recent decline.

“The sexes seem to be struggling generally to relate to one another, with social and political chasms opening up between them.” Holy Both-Fucking-Siderism! NO!!! The “sexes” are not having a problem. MEN caught up in an archaic belief system are having a problem-a big fucking problem. Douthat doesn't get to lay the responsibility and consequences of men not adapting to women's rights on the doorstep of women.

Third, because the culture’s dominant message about sex is still essentially Hefnerian, despite certain revisions attempted by feminists since the heyday of the Playboy philosophy — a message that frequency and variety in sexual experience is as close to a summum bonum as the human condition has to offer, that the greatest possible diversity in sexual desires and tastes and identities should be not only accepted but cultivated, and that virginity and celibacy are at best strange and at worst pitiable states. And this master narrative, inevitably, makes both the new inequalities and the decline of actual relationships that much more difficult to bear …which in turn encourages people, as ever under modernity, to place their hope for escape from the costs of one revolution in a further one yet to come, be it political, social or technological, which will supply if not the promised utopia at least some form of redress for the many people that progress has obviously left behind.

There is an alternative, conservative response, of course — namely, that our widespread isolation and unhappiness and sterility might be dealt with by reviving or adapting older ideas about the virtues of monogamy and chastity and permanence and the special respect owed to the celibate.

So let me get this straight, the problem with sex in America is because of feminists and leftists but, “ the culture’s dominant message about sex is still essentially Hefnerian.”? I've never known a single feminist or leftist who was not only okay with the views and attitudes about sex espoused by Hugh Hefner but who used them as the basis of their sexual ethics. In fact, it has been the direct opposite. Douthat's view of feminism and left-leaning is comical and beyond conservative stereotyping.

But this is not the natural response for a society like ours. Instead we tend to look for fixes that seem to build on previous revolutions, rather than reverse them.

In the case of sexual liberation and its discontents, that’s unlikely to mean the kind of thoroughgoingly utopian reimagining of sexual desire that writers like Srinivasan think we should aspire toward, or anything quite so formal as the pro-redistribution political lobby of Hanson’s thought experiment.

By defacto argument, the sexual revolution was bad so men trying to come to terms with how to really treat women as equals would be a misguided approach to the problem. We need to go back in time to when women had limited rights and almost none with regard to their bodies, their sexuality, and start from there in order to build a more perfect union where men get to get laid when they want by whomever they want.

But I expect the logic of commerce and technology will be consciously harnessed, as already in pornography, to address the unhappiness of incels, be they angry and dangerous or simply depressed and despairing. The left’s increasing zeal to transform prostitution into legalized and regulated “sex work” will have this end implicitly in mind, the libertarian (and general male) fascination with virtual-reality porn and sex robotswill increase as those technologies improve — and at a certain point, without anyone formally debating the idea of a right to sex, right-thinking people will simply come to agree that some such right exists, and that it makes sense to look to some combination of changed laws, new technologies and evolved mores to fulfill it.

Whether sex workers and sex robots can actually deliver real fulfillment is another matter. But that they will eventually be asked to do it, in service to a redistributive goal that for now still seems creepy or misogynist or radical, feels pretty much inevitable.

So, for Douthat, the need to address and placate incels is important but we shouldn't do it with legalizing prostitution or other means. What Douthat is really saying is, “If men cannot dominate and be in control of women, then any sexual solution won't be acceptable. Not legalized prostitution. Not sex robots. Nothing short of actual, real women being subservient to men will do.”

At no point in this entire article by Douthat are men held responsible for their beliefs, for their actions. NOT ONE SINGLE FUCKING TIME! “Feminists” and “left-leaning” people are the real reason behind backward thinking, immoral. egotistical men for behaving the way they do towards women. GTFOH!

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deadmandairyland · 6 years

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Thinking about writing another naehiro roommates fic, except it’d be a new thing and not part of the series I wrote a while back. Maybe go into some of that serious stuff I wanted to write, especially now that there are new characters and ships to mess around with. Get to see Kirigiri’s detective agency. Maybe they’ll go against D.I.C.E. Maybe I’ll add some ideas from that Chihiro dating sim that I will probably never come close to finishing, idk. I promise those ideas are ones that are actually kind of serious and not just dumb dating sim stuff. Think along the lines of ��terrifying Korekiyo arc.” Also thinking of making it a crossover with some other anime or games or something. Maybe it’ll end with the OT4. I don’t know yet. No idea how I’d even write something like that. Lots of jumbled ideas right now. Kinda want to do a sort of Black Lagoon style thing if I can, where it’s like all told in arcs, so there’s no real ending and I can end it whenever and not feel bad about it as long as I don’t end it in the middle of an arc.

Also considering converting my ProwerMania idea from like half a year ago into fic form, since I have next to no knowledge on how to make a Metroidvania game, or any kind of game for that matter.

That second one probably wouldn’t happen for a while, though, if it ever does happen. I’d like to finish my DR3 fic first. Sorry I haven’t updated that in a while. Part of the problem is writer’s block, which tends to be the case whenever I abandon fics, but also the next chapter worries me a bit. It’s a heavy one. And then after that I don’t have a lot written down for it. But I really want to finish it. Which is something I’ve probably said a million times in the past, but I really like the ideas I have for the ending of the fic and I want to share that ending if I can just get to it.

So yeah... no idea when or even if any of this stuff is really going to happen. Probably bit off more than I can chew with these ideas again. I wish I had more drive sometimes. But I really like these ideas so hopefully I will make them happen.

#dangan ronpa #sonic the hedgehog #naehiro #chihiro fujisaki #makoto naegi #tails

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writeyouin · 7 years

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If you don't mind I would really like a newtxreader where the reader is a really short(5') sytherin who stood up to bullies for newt even though she's really insecure for newts feelings for her. Really fluffy and sweet with some of newts children (fantastic beasts). I understand if you don't have time or you don't like the prompt but I'd really appreciate a pick me up. Thank you so much for your time I think your a fantastic writer.

Newt Scamander X Reader – An Unlikely Friend

A/N – Sorry this took so long, major block. Also, since we’re in troubling times right now hopefully this will help people cheer up a bit ; )

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

@nadinedimples

“-and that’s how we brew a Confusing Concoction.” Professor Spraydel, a greying lady with more hair than she could contain, concluded after a brief introduction to the lesson. “Now, everyone into pairs please, you’ll be working together to make the potion. Mr Scamander, I’m afraid we have an odd number in class today so you’re with me dear.”

The class snickered as Newt sloped to the front of the class; this was a weekly occurrence since the class was always an uneven number yet Professor Spraydel always presented it like it was something new.

You glanced at the empty seat next to you where Olive Perplinski usually sat. Apparently, she was still in the hospital wing after being incorrectly hexed during the previous Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson; the spell had been mispronounced, resulting in toxic purple smoke escaping Olive’s mouth whenever she spoke.

You raised your hand, “Excuse me Professor, Olive hasn’t come back from the hospital wing yet.”

“Oh.” Professor Spraydel perked up, eagerly taking the opportunity to put Newt with somebody his own age. “In that case, Mr Scamander will pair up with you for today. Go on now dear,” she ushered him to the back of the class, “that’s it.”

Somehow, Newt looked even more embarrassed to be working with another student rather than the teacher. You wondered momentarily whether it was because the two of you were the only Slytherin/ Hufflepuff pairing or if he was just afraid of you like he was the other students.

“Now everyone, you have 45 minutes to complete the concoctions and five minutes to test them at the end; antidotes will be provided afterwards. Begin.”

“Hi.” You said over various sounds of bubbling cauldrons, chopping boards, and clinking vials.

Newt hunched over his potions book, hiding his face with a mumbled, “Hello,” back.

“I’m (Y/N).” You continued, undiscouraged by his shy nature.

“Yes, I k-know.”

You smiled empathetically. If you had been as ostracised as Newt had been during his time at Hogwarts, you would have probably acted the same way. You’d often observed Newt from afar during the years because Slytherin and Hufflepuff were usually put together for shared classes; it gave you time to admire his gentle manner and patience, even if he tended to get a little distracted. You also appreciated that he never fought or snapped back when bullied, which was the majority of the time, nor did he become bitter as some others may have done; it complimented his shy nature.

In the past, you’d desired the opportunity to speak with Newt and extend your hand in friendship but on the few occasions that you’d attempted to he was nowhere to be found; today’s potion lesson would be your first real chance.

“So, I think if we start with dried sage-” You picked the wrong ingredient on purpose, hoping that it would help bring him out of his shell.

“(Y/N), NO!” He grabbed your wrist from the cauldron which was bubbling away with pre-gathered blob fish mucus.

“Something wrong?”

“It’ll uh- It’ll explode.”

“Oh? Well, I best put this down then. Alright, where do we start?”

“It um- it’s actually dried rosemary so uh, you weren’t far off.”

“Right, I’ll chop that up and you can tell me what I need to get next.” You placed him in charge of the situation, deciding to take over if he got too anxious later on.

“Um I- I d-don’t think that’s a good i-idea.”

“Nonsense, if it weren’t for you, this pot would be up in smoke. So, I’ll get to chopping.”

With ten minutes to spare, the two of you had what looked to be an exquisite potion and as suspected, once Newt new what he was talking about in regards to the concoction, he had become much more confident, talking more to himself than you; you didn’t mind, so long as he wasn’t distressed.

“You did great Newt.” You praised excitedly, “You ever thought of being a potioneer?”

Newt blinked rapidly, taken aback by the comment, then once again bent over pages of his notebook, clamming up completely.

“Awh, don’t tell me you’re shy now, seriously, I think ours may be the best in the class and-”

“Can you just stop?” Newt murmured shakily.

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t have to pretend to be my friend anymore, the lesson’s almost over.”

A stray tear escaped him, you looked around to see that nobody was watching, leaning against the book to shield him from view in case he should cry some more. “Hey, it’s okay, I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just… I thought we were doing really well together and you’re real’ nice so-”

“That’s enough.” He whispered more harshly this time, a finality to his voice. “It’s bad enough that people hate me, I don’t need you setting up some elaborately cruel prank and pretending to like me to make it hurt more.”

“Newt, I didn’t- That’s not-”

“Ooh, this looks promising.” Professor Spraydel interrupted, cutting you off.

You didn’t get a chance to explain to Newt, he hurtled out the classroom as soon as the class was dismissed.

“Oy (Y/N).” Michael Bowspark called over. “Pity you had to work with such a freak innit.”

The group around him howled madly with laughter, clearly waiting for you to join in. You bristled, and yelled, “SHUT UP MICHAEL.”

You ran out in search of Newt, leaving the group in stunned silence for a few seconds before more raucous laughter followed you out.

In the following weeks, Newt avoided you completely, even in lessons. It wasn’t like before though because snapping at Michael lost you the few friends you had within your own house. Although you knew it meant they weren’t real friends and you should be glad to be rid of them, you’d never felt so utterly alone; Olive only stayed with you for lessons because she had to.

Unbeknownst to you, Newt kept an eye out, waiting to see how long it would take for you to admit the game was over and regroup with your friends; as each day dwindled on, it became less and less likely that you would, and more obvious that this may not be a game or trick of some form. Still, he kept his defences up, staying away from you just in case, disappearing as he always had after lessons in case you got the urge to search for him.

You gave up hope of companionship for a while after a nasty argument in the common room. Various snippets of unimportant conversation surrounded you as you trudged flights of complicated moving staircases to the library where you hoped you’d find peace.

“-and the nurse couldn’t fix her boils-”

“-It’s true, the slugs really ate my herbology homework-”

“-So, I can’t go home for Christmas now cos’ me pa hates muggles-”

“-P-p-please, let me -d-down-”

You came to a halt, searching for the source of the last voice which was unmistakably Newt’s terrified squeak. It didn’t take long as a small crowd gathered at an unmoving area of the staircase where a lanky, sneering Ravenclaw girl had just begun levitating Newt for all to see; she was flanked by two burly Gryffindors, who you supposed were her bodyguards. Without hesitating, you ran up the last few steps, pushing forcefully to the front of the crowd.

“What’s your bets lads?” The girl jeered through her incredibly nasally voice. “How many spins before he vomits?”

You stood behind the taller, more built guy, though it was hard to call him a guy as opposed to a walking slab of beef with a face. Despite the fact that he was leagues taller than you, as most people were, you reached up, yanking his hair back sharply and pulling him closer to your level. He screamed in agony, turning everyone’s attention to you. The Ravenclaw turned to you, casually slinging her wand over her shoulder, keeping Newt suspended as he watched with streaming, embarrassed tears.

“What do you think you’re doing?” The Ravenclaw demanded casually.

“YOU. PUT. HIM. DOWN. RIGHT. NOW.” You spoke through gritted teeth, unable to contain your seething fury.

“I think you’ll find that I have extra muscle.”

“YEAH? WELL, I THINK YOU’LL FIND THAT I’D ONLY HAVE TO SMASH THIS IDIOT’S FACE ONCE AGAINST THIS FLOOR TO BREAK HIS NOSE, AND HOW WOULD YOU EXPLAIN THAT?”

The girl’s lip curled, making her face look more like that of a rat’s, “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.” You raised the boy’s head slightly, showing your full intention and capability.

“Urgh, fine.” She huffed, lowering Newt slowly to the floor, where he scrambled up, getting behind you for further protection. “It’s not like he was much fun anyway, come on boys.” She parted the crowd, who were dispersing at your savage gaze as fast as they could manage to get a staircase.

“You alright?” Your tone took a worried edge on as you turned to Newt, craning your neck to face him properly.

He was wiping his tears away whilst staring at you in disbelief, constantly wondering how something so small could be such a threat, “Y-you were r-really going to h-hurt him.”

“Actually, he was really heavy, I doubt I could’ve done much.”

“T-then how-”

“You make a scary face and keep a confident voice, it’ll fool most people. Though, come to think of it, you should learn some defence spells or something, then you’d be okay.”

“I k-know the spells, I just d-d-don’t like to use t-them.”

You exhaled tiredly, leaning your head against the wall to laugh almost silently. Newt watched as if you’d gone mad.

“(Y/N)? Are you a-alright? If you need h-help-”

You waved his offer away weakly, gasping for air between more desperate giggles, “You’re- really- something- Can’t- believe- you- know- how- but-”

Newt caught your drift, laughing a little himself, though often checking to see that you were okay for him to join in.

When you finally regained control, you asked in all seriousness, “What were they even doing it for?”

“I uh- I wouldn’t tell them where I go after classes, they thought it would be a good place to bunk off lessons.”

“Ahh, your super, secret hiding place, got’cha.”

“Y-Yes quite. Um, actually, (Y/N), I’m afraid I o-owe you a bit of an apology about that p-potions lesson.”

“Forget it.” You smiled, relaxed.

Newt tensed up, stating formally, “I will do no such thing. You were being polite and I made a rather rude assumption against your good name. I swear, I’ll not rest until I make it up to you.”

“Oh yeah? And how’re you gonna do that?”

“I’ll… I’ll…” He paused, the sudden bravado disappearing as quickly as it had come until he looked a little hopeful, “Do um, do you like magical creatures?”

You chuckled quizzically, “Sure, I think they’re unique.”

“Then I’ll… I’ll show you my hiding place, come on.”

He walked past you, gesturing for you to follow down the many steps you’d just travelled up. You followed eagerly, curious to see how the magical creatures and his secret place interlinked.

To say you were out of breath was an understatement. You were used to long walks through the Hogwarts grounds but you didn’t usually have to trek through the thick wood of the Forbidden Forest in full uniform. At first sight of the forest you had been hesitant to proceed, knowing of some of the dangerous creatures that lurked within but at Newt’s first real smile at you, you knew that it would be okay somehow, like he knew what lay ahead.

After trekking further on, until you could only see the towers of Hogwarts above the treeline, Newt stopped in front of a large thorn bush. He pushed a few of the branches aside, leaving a small opening for you to enter. You looked from the opening to Newt, seeing how it was too small for any person.

“Don’t worry, it’s safe, I promise.” He reassured you, nodding back at the gap.

You sighed, hunching up as small as you could to avoid the thorns but you quickly realised that each one you hit turned to smoke then rematerialized as though it had never been touched.

“It’s just an illusion.” Newt explained, following you in and putting the real thorn branches back where they belonged.

You came to the end of the illusion tunnel until you were in a rounded hut, made entirely of weaved willow. Piles of cushions and muddy blankets covered the floor, acting like a thin carpet, and animals the likes of which you’d never seen had nests and sets in various spots of the room.

You were awe-struck as you watched a small, green, leaf-like creature climb up Newt’s trouser leg.

Newt looked down, “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about him, this is just Pickett, he has some attachment issues.”

“And Pickett is a…?”

“A Bowtruckle. He was my first rescue, it seems his family tree suffered lightning damage but he was the only one who stayed to protect it, I imagine that’s why he has issues with others of his kind.”

The confidence faded from Newt’s voice momentarily as he gazed at you apprehensively, “Do you… do you like him?”

By now Pickett had stubbornly made his way up to the crook of Newt’s elbow, you bent down to the creature’s level, “Hello Pickett, it’s very nice to meet you.”

Pickett paused, not used to being addressed by anyone other than Newt. He turned to glare at you, sticking his tongue out in obvious disdain.

“Now Pickett,” Newt reprimanded, “that’s not how we treat guests, be nice to (Y/N), (s)he was nice to me.”

Pickett ignored the request and continued his climb.

You were about to speak again but you were interrupted by a mournful warbling, you felt the sudden urge to cry at the terrible sound, like something dreadful had just happened but you couldn’t remember what.

Newt bent to see four small, murky green chicks, residing on a bright yellow pillow, “Ahh, Audrey, now is not the time for that, see, your sisters are being nice and quiet, aren’t they?”

“What’s wrong with her?” You asked sadly. “Is she sick?”

“No, Augurey’s simply chirp when it’s about to rain but she tends to do so at any given time, it’s why she can’t be reintroduced with the others when they grow a little more.”

You raised your eyebrows at his use of the word chirp, “So she doesn’t get the weather right, how come that means she can’t go back out there?”

“Augurey’s only fly in the rain, and since Audrey can’t get it right it would make her survival increasingly difficult.”

You nodded, feeling a little better now that the wailing had stopped. “So this place, you made it?”

“With magic.”

“And you rescue animals?”

“Yes, I want them to be understood as something more than potion parts… I-is that okay?”

You looked back to Newt, who was towering nervously nearby, much closer than he was before, “Just tell me one more thing.”

Newt gulped apprehensively, waiting for you to run out and tell the headmaster.

“How can I help?”

“W-what?”

“This is a great cause.” You stopped to admire a fairy that had just appeared in front of you. “I want to be part of it.”

Newt’s heart skipped a beat at your apparent enthusiasm, “F-forgive me for saying it but… I’ve never met a… a Slytherin like you.”

You smiled, shaking your head slightly, “Yeah well… we’re not as bad as you’d think. So, can I help then? Am I in?”

“Y-yes, of course. C-come on, I’ll t-teach you about kneazles.”

You moved to a small pile of books, kept safely behind a fireguard away from the creatures. Throughout the remainder of the day, Newt taught you all about the creature’s he kept, pointing out why he kept them and why the needed him. Even though it was a lot to take in, you felt confident that with Newt to teach you, you’d be able to remember it all in no time.

#newt scamander #newt scamander x reader #Harry Potter #fantastic beasts and where to find them #fbawtft #fanfiction #fanfic #reader #reader insert #hogwarts #fantastic beasts imagine #fbawtft imagine #an unlikely friend #nadinedimples

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