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potteresque-ire · 3 years

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Hi! I have been reading your posts and responses to anonymous and I am inclined to comment on your broadly realistic views and detailed analystic answers and let us not forget your ability to be warm in putting forward your opinions. I am truly a huge fan. Thank you for being a station for various answer seekers.

If you have time and patience, please elaborate on the situation GG is still facing post 227. Recently I read various comments insinuating GG copied DD for Douyin night which is absurd but the implication that only one party is still being targeted unnecessarily raise hackles of a lot of solo fans. And I, under any circumstances, DO NOT believe the involvement of the other party. Firm believer of BJYXSZD.

My point is what is being done to stop these antis from targeting GG. Since one of the motive to target GG is to severe the relationship of GG and DD, IMO at least. Does constant attack (external stimulus) on GG (belittling him by comparing him to DD) may have the possibility to effect their relationship (internal reaction)? Objectively yes, but given your perception of their relationship, what is your opinion in this matter, however subjective it may be?

Moreover, how much extreme and sometimes irrational analysis done by bjyx community can lead to harm to both of them especially GG?

Also, I have seen DD being the captain of BJYX in various circumstances but also throwing off people from their old predicted/maintened theories especially in case of Kadians. I am not sure how much to trust these 'candies' since he has a reputation of not giving a f*** of others opinion. So why would he post GG related or non-related content with same kadians. I mean if he posts private content with GG related kadian then why post promotional content with GG related kadian. Does it imply that kadians are related to GG or not or he doesn't care and we are thinking too much. I am not sure what I am writing now, maybe multitude of thoughts poring out here. I am extremely sorry for that.

I do not know whether people believe or not but 1st post by GG yesterday had initials YB in the circle. Not at all explicit, and depends on believers but I felt like he was just trolling BJYX, it may be good naturedly but after his promotional brand picture of shrimp in bunny's hand. I do not know I just felt, dissappointed/bitter/unsure about all of this. I think it is normal to feel this way from time to time even for SZD because along with emotional investment we have rational perspective which is necessary to scrutinize evidence(maybe) from time to time.

I whole heartedly apologize for writing an essay length ask, this is the reason I wanted your patience 😅.

If any other blogger wants to add or comment on this please feel free to do so. Your suggestions are highly welcomed. 🙏

Hello Anon!

I take it that your questions about safety are concerned about the behaviour of c-solos and c-turtles? International fans aren’t likely to put Gg and Dd at any risk. That said, however, frequent fighting among i-fans would likely drain Gg and Dd’s international fanbase, as many fans do not enjoy being a combative atmosphere (I, for one, will run away as quickly as a turtle can run!). Lost i-fans can’t be easily replenished, whether they’re turtles or solos ~ The Untamed, as a foreign language show so beloved that fans are willing to scale tall language and cultural barriers to understand it, isn’t something that comes around often. (stanning Gg and/or Dd does take a lot of work!)

About the arguments. I probably only know about a fraction of them since I do not interact directly with fans outside Tumblr . As far as I can tell, however, recent arguments among c-solos and c-turtles have been ordinary fights, and also, fairly “bi-directional” between the solos (ie. I don’t think Gg or Dd has been relatively exempt from attacks compared to each other).

These arguments can be heated and some of the attacks may sound vicious, but there’s nothing much to worry about from a safety angle, as they haven’t caught the attention of those outside the fan circles.

The theorising by turtles are also not inherently dangerous. c-turtles have mostly been careful about keeping their discussions among themselves. The only risk it may lead to in the future, that I can think of right now, is the associated YiZhan content on China-based websites (ex. Bilibili, Douyin), which has become fairly plentiful. YiZhan candies used to be relatively obscure given the guidelines of CP fans to keep them among themselves (they call this practice 圈地自萌, literally, drawing a circle on the ground and have fun in it by oneself). These days, however, anyone who’s curious can get a good sense of YiZhan’s story by browsing Bilibili.

This probably contributes to the continued growth of the turtle population; however, some of this content is created by non-turtles who seek viewership and have little concern over Gg and Dd’s safety. They are the ones who re-upload the BTS, for example, despite the repeated pleas and warnings by the “站姐”s—the superfans who take/purchase these videos—as well as the turtles to not do that. If these content creators go overboard, there’s a possibility that YiZhan content may get caught in the government’s “Eradicating Pornography and Illegal Publications”（掃黃打非) movement. The movement originated in the mid 2000s, and its recent waves have been used as pretext to remove LGBT+ and BL content on line (I will eventually set up a post re: those events). Just last month (2020 Dec), Bilibili has been explicitly named by the government for hosting questionable materials, which means it’s already under scrutiny. Sweeps performed on an entire website are usually broad-based enough that no specific individuals are targeted; however, the government also encourages, with financial incentives, the reporting of specific content and has set up a dedicated website for doing so. While all YiZhan content has no direct relation to Gg and Dd, removal of such content may cause an over-reaction from fans, which can, in turn, lead to accusations of poor fan management by Gg and Dd. Most people will also assume the YiZhan content to be created by turtles.

(Another example of how an alleged turtle mis-step can get the YiZhan fandoms and Gg and Dd tied to the 掃黃打非 movement: a few days ago, a Weibo post showed a photo of a hardcover version of an explicit BJYX fanfic, reportedly sold for profit, and GG haters were calling for an arrest for “illegal publication.” So far, there’s minimal noise on the issue, so it isn’t something to worry about. It can also be fake news, which is so bountiful on the platform and on every aspect of daily life that most die a very peaceful, very well-deserved death.).

Whether fan arguments / theories may affect Gg and Dd’s relationship (assuming they’re in a relationship) … my guess is, not much. Gg and Dd are busy people, unlikely to closely follow their fans’ discussions. Again, I expect effects to be felt only if the arguments get out of hand ~ as in, if they begin to involve the public and/or the government.

As for the question about what is being done to stop Gg being targeted: fan wars are incredibly common in China (as in everywhere else), and Gg and Dd’s aren’t special in that sense ~ it’s just that as turtles, we know about those surrounding Gg and Dd and they feel significant to us. No individuals can stop a fan war ~ all we can do is to not join these wars ourselves.

Personally, I think the international fan base of Gg and Dd, as solos and cpfs, have more chance to achieve peace than its Chinese counterparts — if they choose to want that. Popularity in China is not only quantified (which is likely true everywhere, by marketing departments), but very visibly so. Sales numbers, votes, traffic attributed to each idol are frequently released to the public, possibly to foster competition among fans and drive these numbers further upward. c-turtles’ demonstrated strong performance in pushing these metrics has made them a target to those who wish to have usurp their consumer power. They, therefore, have good reasons to be wary of anyone who try to sway them from their “turtle-ship”, whether to turn them into solos or to lure them into an entirely different fandom. The swaying messages are also not always obvious, not always a direct “your cp suck”. They can be subtle, many even come from netizens who appear to be fellow turtles, who may say “oh, maybe we (turtles) are wrong” or “we have to be realistic; Gg and Dd will never look at each other publicly again”—messages that cast doubt and sink morale in a fandom that’s already running an uphill battle. Remember: traditionally, CP fandoms are not expected or welcomed to last, and solos have been happy to (correctly) point out that the BTS, the origin of the most solid “evidences” of BJYXSZD, are getting older by the day. c-turtles can’t expect anyone else to help defend their ship if something happens, given CP fandoms’ lack of respectability, given YiZhan being a real person M/M pairing that is often frowned upon. So it’s understandable, to me at least, why c-turtles are on guard, and occasionally, clash with those who they feel may be trying to take away what they love.

i-turtles, I feel, don’t have that many reasons to fight. We don’t really have other fandoms (for example, the up and coming danmeis—the adapted BL dramas) vying for our attention (and wallets). No one can put an expiration date on the YiZhan communities except ourselves.

Another way to see this is: we—as in, the combined Gg + Dd international fanbase, the solos + CPFs—are lucky in a way the fans in Gg and Dd’s home country are not. Collectively, we’re much further removed from the pressure to perform as fans, which is immense in China with their fan circle culture and fan economy. i-shrimps and i-motorcycles ~ some of you are reading this, I think? (hello!) ~ here are my humble thoughts: the solo/turtle ratio of Gg and Dd’s international fans doesn’t make much of an impact on Gg and Dd’s star status, on the popularity metrics that matter. Our spending power is limited outside China’s borders, and while Gg and Dd likely love us equally as fans, our adoration for them doesn’t really matter much, if at all, to the production/media/commercial companies that control the trajectories of their careers.

Along this line, the turtles’ “double loyalty” doesn’t have much of an ill effect, because there are few popularity contests here that mean much; few times (if any) when the turtles must face the dilemma of whether to vote for Gg or Dd because only a single vote is allowed; few situations where they have only x amount of dollars and must split it equally between Gg or Dd’s endorsements. There’s also much less cause to worry that i-turtles may draw the attention, or ire of the Chinese government ~ the whole international fanbase is too far away, too spread out to destabilise the regime in any way.

What the turtles do have in common with you, the solos, is their knowledge, their love for Gg/Dd. Knowledge, in particular. The people who know about Gg/Dd are still far and in between—at where I am, at least, and my guess is, it’s likely true for many of you too. Think of the turtles as people who you can talk to about your favourite star in places where few people know about him, can help promote The Untamed far and wide—many people still haven’t heard of the show, and they deserve to.

For the turtles ~ no one can take away our turtle-ship identity, as long as we don’t give it away. No one can report on the our communities to the government and get them dissolved. Our votes, our spending habits are no one else’s business but ours here.

So, Anon, here’s what I think, and these are all very personal opinions, very personal decisions on how to navigate fandom …

I truly hope that we, as the international fanbase, can try to use this luck that we have. Make our communities not mere copies of their (combative) Chinese counterparts but something different, something with our own flavour, something with more peace and less fighting.

Specifically, I see little cause to try to persuade/dissuade anyone to be a solo/turtle. I find them… not the best use of time. Why? Because frankly, neither solos nor turtles have a better grasp of who Gg and Dd are. Neither solos nor turtles have a truly good grasp of who Gg and Dd are. These discussions are therefore bound to end up with more ill will than conclusions, since both sides are short of facts.

We’re all short of facts as audiences, who’ve all only seen a tiny sliver of who Gg and Dd are as human beings.

I don’t mean Gg and Dd’s star image is fake ~ it’s just that, their star image is their “work face”, and even I, a lowly turtle, must act somewhat differently in my own office. It’s part of being professional.

Gg and Dd’s star image are their professional face, and no professionals worth a salt truly ignore other’s opinions, especially when the profession is being an entertainer whose job is to face and hold the attention of the public.

This is true for Gg; this is true for Dd.

Social media accounts are also part of Gg and Dd’s professional face ~ whatever is posted on there will be scrutinised by millions of fans, and they know that. The posts do provide some insights about Gg an Dd’s personalities, but they can’t be expected to show a complete picture. No parts of these posts, therefore, whether it’s the content or the kadians, are sufficient evidences for / against any aspect of their personal lives (especially as private an aspect as their romantic lives). Anon, you mentioned promotional marketing materials, and here’s my understanding of them ~ ambassadors such as Gg and Dd have minimal control over their design. The shrimp-holding bunny you’re referring to, for example, is very likely provided by the company.

However, may I also add this? Please try to not think of the shrimps / motorcycles as enemies of the turtles. Millions of people are behind each of these labels, and true for any group of this size, a fraction of its members are bound to be annoying. A small fraction may be awful, even. But they don’t represent the entire group. The shrimps are not only Gg’s fans, many of them have supported him longer than any turtle (since turtle-ship can’t be older than 2018); they’re also the reasons why Gg is in the industry ~ they voted for him in X-Fire. Likewise, a subset of motorcycles have been with Dd since UNIQ; they were there when the Korean ban effectively dissolved his group; they stuck with him when he was attacked for taking on the role of LWJ.

We’re all Gg and Dd’s fans, if you ask people outside the fandom. Remember: few outside China understand why heated arguments can occur between a bunch of shrimps, turtles and motorbikes. (It sounds a bit kafkaesque, just typing it out.)

It’s important not to lose sight too, that Gg and Dd’s social media accounts, where many new candies are found, primarily function as bridges of communication between them and their fans. These accounts do have different degrees of “professionalism” ~ Weibo and the official accounts being more formal, and Oasis, Douyin being more laid back and intimate; still, they all serve similar purposes. They’re not candy generators, or a script Gg and Dd have an obligation to follow to confirm / refute BJYXSZD.

Also: these accounts are accessible and watched by the public, not all of whom are friendly to Gg and Dd.

Re: Gg’s drawing on Oasis. He used the account as it’s intended for—to interact with his fans (the caption of the first draft was an unspoken invitation to shower him with ideas) and maybe, to show off a little (it was a very nice piece of artwork ~ a comment that I, sadly, haven’t seen much of). I doubt he posted his drawing because he wanted fans to carpet-search for traces of Dd in it (even though he probably expected that would happen); I very much doubt he posted his drawing because he wanted his fans to fight over scratch marks or black dots.

If these fights keep happening, I can imagine a possible outcome. He’ll stop showing us his drawings. His social media accounts will become less and less personal, as they already have.

I’ll share with you my thoughts about candies too, while I’m at it. These are probably not-so-popular opinions, so please take them all with a grain of salt.(Salted caramels? 😊 )

I haven’t looked at why candies are called candies, but I find the name appropriate for how I think of them ~ candies are 1) neither evidences or truth, 2) sweet, 3) treats (non-essential, not like the main course).

The first point is, perhaps, the one I try the hardest to keep in mind. There are posts out there claiming the candies as made-beliefs—generated from edited pictures or videos, exaggerated translations, and their interpretations forced by “guidances” in the annotations/narration. There are also posts claiming that turtles are deceivers, or have been deceived by brainwashers who maliciously created these make-beliefs. A turtle may assume these posts are all lies, all made by antis.

But, speaking turtle-to-turtle, I’d venture to say this … there’s some truth in the *first* statement. Many candies do, indeed, taste different if their taster returns to the original source—not necessarily unsweet, but less sweet. Candies, remember, are generated by fans like you and I. Same for c-candies ~ they aren’t endorsed by Gg and Dd, aren’t necessarily closer to the truth just because of the relative proximity of their birthplaces to their leads.

Candy generation is The Tradition of CP fandoms. It’s a celebrated skill, and who doesn’t want to generate a candy that will be talked about, that will be part of the BJYX canon, for as long as the fandom lasts? Some fans are, therefore, also more … efficient in the “marketing” of the candies they generated — in persuading others that their candies are evidences, the truth. “Guidance” photos and videos (which pinpoint the place to watch, sometimes with appropriate sound effects for emphasis) have come about that way, and because they’re easy to digest—especially where language barriers exist—they end up spreading to i-fandoms.

These photos and videos may look more professional / trustworthy, but they often have an additional layer of subjectivity ~ on top of the already subjective opinion of what makes a candy. Translations (of BTS, fake rumours house content etc) also introduce a subjective element. Word choices can significant modify the tone of a conversation; speakers of different Chinese dialects may also have different interpretations of the same phrases. Example: I, as a non Chongqing/Sichuanese speaker, can guess the literal meaning of the “puppy” term Gg used for Dd — 狗崽崽 (gou zai zai) — but I also had to rely on others to tell me how endearing the term is; me being a Chinese speaker actually doesn’t make my interpretation any more valid, or authoritative, in this scenario, because my dialect doesn’t use this term at all.

It doesn’t mean the people who’ve put in the work have any less-than-good intent; the vast majority of them come from a place of deep love. It’s just that we all carry our own perspectives, and as fans, our strong emotions in our fanworks.

This is why candies are often insufficient as good “points” for arguments, why they fail to convince non-believers, sometimes to the disappointment of some turtles. As evidences, they aren’t objective enough; they’re also often touch upon the assumption that’s mark the fundamental difference between solo and cp fans — the assumption that Gg and Dd are (not) together. Take, for example, this segment from a (polite) ask I got from an anon solo:

All the matching clothes, jewelry, shoes etc. Stopped being valid candy when I realized that the brands have popular stars "endorse" their products. The lightning pendant? Other actors have also worn it. Does that mean they are in a 3-way with (Gg) and (Dd)? Probs not.

Solo anon was correct! Brands have star endorsers, and other entertainers have, indeed, worn the same lightning pendant. The implied argument is also valid: people who don’t care about, don’t even know about each other can wear the same things. Most of us do that on a daily basis with our mass-produced garments.

However, a counterargument can also be made to the statement above, and easily: even the most precious, most beautiful wedding rings (say, from Tiffany!) are not exclusive to the first RL couple who bought them. It doesn’t mean the first RL couple is sleeping with all the couples who bought the same rings afterwards, doesn’t mean those rings aren’t significant to every one of these couples as romantic mementos. More often than not, couples wear matching things not because these things are exclusive to them—because how often can one find things that only exist as a single pair in this world? They wear matching things because they want to see something on themselves that remind them of their significant other and so, as long as the things aren’t so prevalent that everyone is wearing them, they can already serve their purpose.

But you see, Anon, that arguing over this would’ve been a waste of time? Because the solo came in with the assumption that Gg and Dd were not a couple, and the counterargument was made with the assumption that they were. The pendants alone are insufficient to prove either side correct or wrong. No one knows why those pendants ended up on Gg and Dd’s necks, except Gg and Dd and their teams. If I were to argue with anon solo, we can go on and on and on until we’re both left with bitter tastes in our mouths and WWX-red in our eyes, and forget the one thing that really matters: we’re both Gg’s fans.

(We could’ve spent the time talking about how that scene in The Wolf with Ji Chong throwing Zai Xing in the water is ❤️.) (I can’t believe the script waited 30+ episodes to do it. 😂)

This leads to my second point, Anon. Candies are meant to be sweet, and they’re meant to be sweet for you. In Chinese, a term for an expert candy person is a 嗑學家 (the candy-eating in CP fandoms is called 嗑糖 (ketang) ～ with 嗑 ke denoting a specific form of eating that requires breaking something open first with teeth—such as watermelon seeds; a 嗑學家 is a 嗑 (ke)-ologist). A 嗑學家 isn’t someone who can recall the longest list of candies, or spread the most candies around, or convince the most people that the CP behind the candies is real; they are those who can find their own candies in a source material, and be overjoyed by the sweetness of their discoveries without outside help. To me, at least, this term encapsulates the subjective nature of candies ~ what’s right for you may not be right for me and vice versa, and that’s perfectly all right. In other words, there are many candies out there but you’re not required to believe in all of them; instead, you’re free to choose candies to your own liking, compose your own version of the BJYX canon that you love, that you find sweet.

Wait, but you may say. Doesn’t that make my canon fantasy? Yes and no, because candies are based on real events. They’re interpretations, which sit somewhere between reality and fantasy. They’re like … opinion shows on news channels.

But what if I need to convince people of my canon —

Your “opposition”’s canon is as fantastical, and as real as yours — maybe it isn’t, but neither of you have a way to prove it one way or another.

Wouldn’t solos call me delulu, or clowns?

Maybe. But one step outside the fandom, and all of us fans—solo and cpfs—are delulu, clowns.

(That’s why while I’ve used the cpn label, I haven’t called myself delulu, or a clown. Anyone who thinks I have the truth about the love story about a pair of idol I haven’t met from thousands of miles away … the joke’s probably on them, don’t you think?)

Of course and again, Anon, this is only my take! I like candies precisely because I like to watch the real-time generation of candies, which ones different people claim as their own, which candies fall away and which stick around in the fandom over time. As a fic writer, this ship has gifted me with a treasure trove of information ~ what do people think of as romantic gestures, as give-away signs of love? The fun/amazing part of BJYX is that candies are available for so many different answers to these questions. Some people think of longing gazes and sweet smiles; some think of touches that can’t be helped (the many, many, many “fights”); some think of service (buying foods, designing clothes); some think of caring about the other’s well-being (throat candies and dumplings + noodles + crackers); some think of being The Other’s One and Only Exception (Dd being so talkative around Gg, Gg being so … fussy around Dd); some think of expressions through the arts (songs, drawings, dances); some think of grand gestures (the wave heart in the ocean); some think of matching clothes and symbolic accessories (rings); some think of birthdays and anniversaries (314, 622, the first snow); some think of sharing life’s hassles and small tidbits (fake rumour house); some think of … just looking VERY good together. Etc etc.

Some think of a subset of these, some think of all of these…

(Personally, I’m a very picky candy eater. I know about many of them, but only a small fraction impresses on me.)

(Still, I love watching candies. I love watching the joy of people sweetened by them ~ or, when c-turtles exclaim kswl! — the short form of ke si wo le! 嗑死我了! I “ke”ed so much I’m dying!)

This gets to 3), Anon, and I apologise to you too, for answering your not-essay-at-all with an essay! Candies are, to me, treats, and I don’t expect them to come at any frequencies higher than treats do. The reason isn’t because I don’t like candies ~ I enjoy watching them, as I said, even if I don’t eat many of them; the reason is because I don’t expect anyone’s romantic love to leave a trace in everything they do. For example, if I truly find myself in a SZD/SJD discussion re: Gg’s drawing, I’d say the lack of Dd in Gg’s self-portrait doesn’t really mean much. Even if Gg and Dd were head-over-heels in love with one another, Gg doesn’t have to put Dd in everything he touches. Likewise, Dd doesn’t have to present a consistent, or decipherable story with his kadians. This is true for the real-life couples around us too, isn’t it? They don’t perform every single act in life leaving a noticeable trace of their significant other. And the misunderstanding that couples do that — that their romantic lives take over who they are as individuals — IMO, partially explains why people who choose to not to date or marry, people who’re aro-aces, often have a difficult time convincing others that they’re complete humans. Romantic love is, of course, very, very important and can be life altering, but it also isn’t everything about a person ~ especially not if a person who has a career as exciting as Gg’s and Dd’s. Gg and Dd who also have friends, family, (many) talents and interests …

(And lots of ugly icons on their cell phones. Yes, I’m talking about you, Gg. That long-armed Pepe from your 2018 snowless Beijing post will give me nightmares…)

#pie metas #pie answers #yizhan #BJYX

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mittensmorgul · 3 years

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Can’t everyone use tumblr how they want?

YES!

This site is exactly what people make of it for themselves. That was the exact point of that post. The fact that people reacted negatively to it at all proves my point. Seriously.

I have a number of other anons that are clearly from people who don't actually follow me, and are only here in a reactionary fashion having seen it on someone else's reblog, or else heard about it in passing and decided the best reaction to an ultimately harmless and rather bumbling post was to take personal offense and bring anonymous hate to a stranger on the internet. (and at least one not-anonymous "go kill yourself" type comment on the post itself)

THAT was the point of making that post.

For people who might be new to this fandom or new to tumblr in general (or even for people who have been here for years), your experience here is exactly what you make of it. I haven't seen that sort of vitriolic kneejerk reaction to anything I've written or posted in years. That post touched nerves. So it was a bit of an experiment, and I'm sorry to everyone who experienced any of that negativity second-hand. NOBODY should be made to feel like shit when engaging with something that is supposed to be fun. But I've learned over the years that that's exactly what some people consider fun.

There are new people to this fandom since the absolute free for all of the weeks after November 5th. We all reveled in those weeks before the show collapsed in on itself two weeks later. It was like 15 years worth of Hiatus Blogging followed by... well... some of the worst genuine hurt and disillusionment I've ever experienced or witnessed inflicted on a fandom by a piece of media.

There have to be at least a few people who floated into this fandom during that emotional roller coaster who want to make sense of it all, who were at least curious enough about how a show could've brought the characters to that emotional moment in 15.18 before effectively ignoring it all and burning the entire 15 year narrative to nothing just two episodes later.

Some folks stuck around to dig through the ashes of fandom in search of carrion, and that's fine. Some have zero desire to ever engage with the show or the fandom beyond mocking it for ever having existed at all, and that is also fine! But some folks? They might be wondering why anyone ever saw anything in this narrative to begin with, and they might be interested in knowing that there is this vast collection of information available to them (funny that none of my self-righteous anons even mentioned those, outside of one pointing out that my phrasing introducing that section of links was easily interpreted as condescending... which... yeah... again that was the point, and no I will not edit that language. none of us are free from sin).

Tumblr hasn't "changed." It was always this way. This site is not a monolith. Fandom is not a monolith. Even smaller groups within fandom aren't monoliths. Things that are considered "tumblr standard etiquette" do not exist across this entire website. And even within the supernatural fandom, and even within the tumblr-destiel-portion of the fandom there aren't "rules" dictating how you interact with anyone. Well, the one specific rule we should all be able to agree on is that you don't bring hate to real actual human beings, and yet...

There has ALWAYS been the option to engage with fandom here on whatever level an individual chooses. And that hasn't really changed since the finale aired. Anyone who thinks that Tumblr or the fandom has "evolved" or "changed" has likely just fallen in with a different fandom bubble then they'd existed within before. None of the bubbles have actually popped or disappeared. But which one you experience is entirely your own choice. You curate your experience here.

That was the point, illustrated by the vast array of comments I actually got on that post, structured with a little bit of everything including "tumblr mom from 2014." Everything pisses some people off, you know? Even the perception that some stranger on the internet might dare to lay down an arbitrary "rule" that zero people actually have to follow. See what I mean?

Because if any of the people who kneejerked at it actually followed me, or knew me at all, they wouldn't have kneejerked. They would've seen the point.

So your experience is what you make of it here. There are resources for people actually interested in engaging with the narrative or the fandom or the history of it. People mock "tumblr moms" or "fandom moms" all the time, but there wouldn't ~be~ a fandom without the people who actually build those resources. I.e. adults with the time, money, and personal investment in actually sustaining the fandom, instead of running around with torches trying to burn it down at every new whiff of perceived ~drama~ to latch on to.

For example, all of the scripts we've been acquiring and sharing with the entire fandom free of charge. I know that the fandom bubbles who seize on those scripts like hungry vultures to cough back up out of context "gotcha" posts postulating whatever theory of the differences between script and screen will dredge up the most drama or outrage in their fandom bubble... they haven't even considered how those scripts were acquired and made available to them. To them, they are "leaks." They are gifts that fell out of the sky and landed in their laps. There isn't even the barest curiosity about their origins or relevance beyond whatever social nourishment they derive by making up stuff and spouting it out with unearned authority. It's sad. But if that's how they enjoy the fandom, it's nice to remind them that none of the fandom they cannibalize would exist without the rest of us, too.

Yes, even the people you disagree with. Even the people who ship the things you find disgusting or repulsive. Even people who have an entirely different experience to your own. Even the people who are only here for those gotcha posts.

Fandom is not by nature a nihilistic shitshow, or no fandom would survive the amount of drama the 1% try to bring to it. Here have a fanlore article about this phenomenon. Right now, in Supernatural fandom, it feels like more than 1%, but I promise it really is only 1%. They're just really loud. There's actually other avenues to participatory fandom available to anyone who chooses to find them. Parts of this vast fandom that aren't focused on that 1% of reactionary leg-chewing at every turn. None of them are (as the linked article confirms) truly 100% free of unnecessary drama or bad behavior (including ME, I mean I MADE THAT POST!), but on tumblr you can curate your own experience. Fandom actually can be fun without burning down the thing you claim to be a fan of, or attacking other real human people for having the audacity to exist on the internet in a way you might believe is out of touch or pathetic. Seriously, nobody deserves to experience that from anyone over a fucking television show. Like seriously, take a step back and examine your life and your choices at that point.

Tumblr was exactly the same as a fandom community when I joined as it is now. Throughout my entire time here, I've curated my own personal experience to exactly what I derive the most personal satisfaction from. During that time I have had numerous friends and mutuals lament that their personal experience had become so toxic, but they were afraid to trim those blogs from their dash for fear of having no content left to engage with at all. For years there have been follow lists and blog recs and people desperate to find a more "peaceful and fun" fandom experience. People grow exhausted and embittered when their entire experience of fandom is an emotionally draining drama train. It's like pandemic doom scrolling, but for the thing that should be a respite from that sort of mindset, something that's supposed to be entertainment. The show did enough to us all, we don't have to turn around and re-inflict it on each other day in and day out on tumblr dot com.

So if even one person saw my post and thought well shit maybe I actually want to engage with a wider swath of fandom and see what's there, after seven months of post-finale drama, this whole other region of fandom is still here, still being the curators of the archives, the creators of stories and art and meta and gifs and videos and actually caring about it all that will keep this fandom going long after the current round of exhausting drama inevitably plays itself out.

The amount of in-group language in the negative replies I got was unsurprising. It's like folks are living in an alternate universe that doesn't mesh at all with what I experience on this exact same hellsite. Almost like we exist in entirely different bubbles of fandom, with entirely different purposes for existing at all. Everyone on this hellsite gets to pick which bubble (or bubbles) to take up residence in. Some people simply forget that their personal bubble isn't the universal defining experience of this site. Unfortunately, I doubt my little disruption to their bubbles will actually make any of them see that, but you anon... I think you did.

You are highly encouraged to engage with fandom EXACTLY THE WAY YOU CHOOSE. You have the ultimate power in controlling your entire experience here. Tumblr and Supernatural Fandom on tumblr is not Just One Thing that everyone who wants to participate in must conform to one specific code of ethics or behavior to be part of. And that NOBODY has the right to tell anyone else they're doing it wrong (including ME! I am 100% including myself in this!).

It's not MY job to dictate how anyone else experiences this fandom, as much as it was not the job of the people who reblogged my post (which I did not personally shove into their eyeballs with a demand for compliance... how did any of those people even *find* my post?) solely to tell me how *I* need to change how I experience the fandom, you see? Don'tcha love hypocrisy!

But the point was made for those who care, and a lot of people got to update their block lists (I still don't block anyone, as I said I curated my fandom space here and generally don't follow folks that don't personally make me happy and enrich my life by engaging with their content. However other people choose to engage with *my* content (any of it, going back nearly 50k posts over the last decade) is their business entirely. Sometimes I just feel the need to draw out people who are all too eager to expose their own whole asses in public. Mission accomplished.

#fandom problems #and again i'm sorry that anyone i know was exposed to ugliness because of this #but everyone i know also knows that i'm probably the least easily upset person in this corner of the fandom #if even one person achieved a modicum of self-awareness that their experience is not universal #that there IS no universal experience even #then i guess the point was made

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be-the-spark-flyboy · 4 years

Text

One Step Forward Two Steps Back

Call It What You Want (7/?)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Med student!Poe x reader

A/N: Poe needs to calm down in this one smh that gif is so fitting

Chapter Summary: Poe tries to talk to you, but you make his life infinitely more difficult since you’re still under the impression that he was still with his girlfriend

Warnings: swearing, dash of angst, everyone being dumb asses

Word count: 2.4k

You don’t remember the walk back to your place, your mind too occupied with the thoughts of what had just happened with Poe fucking Dameron. You kissed him. More like, he kissed you first but you still went with it, way too eagerly, head empty of any rational thoughts. He has a girlfriend. How could you forget that, if even for a moment? How could he forget that?

You used to be sure Poe wasn’t the type of person who would cheat on someone, but now, not so much. And the worst part? You enjoyed kissing him, so goddamn much. You should’ve pushed him away, should’ve stopped him before he kissed you. How could you be so reckless?

Before you know it, you’re walking up to your front door, too busy mentally kicking yourself, to notice the cardboard boxes lying around the floor. Your foot catches on one and you almost go tumbling down, but an arm shoots out to steady you before you could fall.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry!” A woman around your own age exclaims, her hand still firmly clamped on your arm as you wobble in surprise. She chuckles awkwardly, an easy smile settling on her face as she sticks a hand out to you. “I’m Rose Tico. I just moved in next door,” She tells you. Oh, your new neighbor. She seems nice, you think. You shake her hand, introducing yourself.

“You need any help moving in?” You offer, though you don’t really feel like putting yourself in a social situation. Thankfully, Rose declines. After a quick exchange of numbers, you rush into your home, hoping Jessika was already at home. You find her sitting cross-legged on the counter, happily munching on a muffin from your stress baking batch.

“Poe kissed me,” The words are out of your mouth before you could even think about how you were going to reveal the news, and the bite of muffin Jessika takes almost goes flying out of her mouth.

“WHAT?” She screeches, scampering down from the counter, crossing the room in record time before shaking you by the shoulders. “Woman! What? Is my ship finally sailing?”

“What? No!” You break away from her grip, grimacing. “He has a girlfriend, Jessika!” She makes a gagging sound at your protestations.

“But she is a bitch and everyone hates her,” Jessika states like its the most obvious thing in the world. You still have absolutely no idea what made everyone hate her so much. If anyone knew about it, you’re pretty sure that it would be Jessika. But would asking her about it mean that you care? That you’re admitting your feelings?

“Yeah well, that not the point. Kissing someone else is basically cheating, isn’t it?” You swing back to the problem at hand. What happens in their relationship isn’t any of your business, you decide.

“Well, yeah.” She shrugs. “Maybe you should talk to him about this. He might have an explanation for things, ya know? Poe just doesn’t seem like the type to be so careless about someone’s feelings,”

“Huh, since when are you an expert on Poe?” You ask her. It surprised you how Jessika could be so intuitive and heartfelt at times, so at odds with her usual carefree nature.

“I am an expert on everyone, honey,” she says, dramatically flipping her hair over her shoulders.

“Yeah, whatever,” You push past her, still not very convinced. “Oh, did you meet our new neighbor?”

“Rose?” She asks, going back to her muffin. “Yeah, I don’t think she likes me very much.”

“Not an expert on Rose?” You laughed.

“Not yet,” she tells you.

---

“Just ask her, man!” Finn exclaims, sitting opposite Poe in a crowded coffee shop as his best friend nervously shuffles his phone from one hand to the other.

“Urgh, how do I even phrase it? Isn’t it weird if I just ask her out of the blue?” Poe asks.

“You’re thinking too much,” Finn crosses his arm, glaring at him. “Since when are you so afraid to talk to a girl?”

Finn hates seeing Poe like this, a complete mess and totally out of his element. He had been that way since you left in the hurry the previous day. And in the past almost 24 hours Finn has been the one to put up with all his whining. As much as Finn pities Poe, he also wants to strangle him just to get some peace and quiet.

“Since I fucked up and kissed her and now she probably thinks I’m an asshole who cheats on his girlfriend!” Poe whines.

“Dameron you’re such a fucking drama queen. Just text her!” Poe reluctantly punches in a few words before flipping his phone around for Finn to see.

“Is this okay? Too short? Too formal?”

“No its fine,” Finn reassures him. Finally, they were getting somewhere.

“What if I just- Hey! What the hell, Finn?” Poe shoots Finn a look of betrayal as the other man pressed send on the text before he could snatch back his phone.

“See! It’s done. Nothing to worry about,”

“Easy for you to say,” Poe mutters indignantly.

---

Your phone buzzes in your pocket in the quiet corner of the library. You were looking for reference books for your latest project from hell which was sucking your soul. You pull your phone out of your pocket, welcoming the distraction.

Poe: Hey, it’s Poe. Are you free around 1 later? Do you want to join me for lunch? :)

Or not. Oh shit. You know Jessika told you to just talk to Poe. Communication is the best way to sort things out, but it’s always easier said than done isn’t it?

Does he want to talk about the events of the previous day? Is he going to tell you that he likes you and that was why he kissed you? But what if he apologizes for it and tells you that it was a mistake instead? You can’t decide which one would be worse.

You don’t want to have lunch with him. Just the thought of seeing him again makes your chest constrict in panic. But you can’t just leave him hanging, you have to reply. And you find yourself thinking for the millionth time, if only I hadn’t gotten so close to him.

Your fingers were dancing above the keypad, contemplating what excuse to give as another notification pops up on the top of your screen. And then another.

Ben: Bro, I need your help.

Ben: Pleeeeaaaassseee I’ll buy you lunch

You spend years getting lunch all alone most of the time and suddenly two boys are fighting for your attention on the same goddamn day. Fun.

It really isn’t a difficult decision to make. Your friend needs your help, so you gotta put that above some casual lunch right? Yeah, totally, you decide. It isn’t because you want to avoid Poe, not at all. You just have somewhere else to be.

And so you take the cowards way out.

You: Okay, where do I meet you?

Ben: Wow that was fast did I speak too soon about lunch?

You: NOPE you’re still buying

—-

“She hasn’t replied. Why hasn't she replied Finn?!” Poe’s fidgeting puts Finn on edge as he watches him pick up the phone and check the notifications, place it down, then pick it up to check the notification, again and again.

“Because you just texted her, Poe. Maybe she’s busy,” Finn takes a sip of his coffee, Poe’s cup already drained. Finn considers buying him another cup of coffee just to give him something else to do. But knowing his friend, he probably already had at least two this morning. He does not need more caffeine.

His phone buzzes again and Poe sweeps it up. “It’s not her...” he groans, looking at the screen with barely veiled disappointment.

“Okay, gimme that,” Finn snatches the device from his hand as Poe throws himself back into his seat, pouting like a five-year-old with his toys taken away. “You need patience dude, a lot of it,” Finn shakes his head at him.

Usually, Poe had plenty of patience. But not when it came to you apparently. He doesn’t regret kissing you at all, but maybe he moved too fast? He definitely should have talked to you first, or maybe asked you out first instead of just kissing you. Or told you that he broke up with Sarah. Yep that one, that’s the first thing he should’ve done.

The phone pings again and Poe almost flings himself over the table trying to snatch it from his friend’s hand. “Christ Poe, calm down! God!” Poe pays no mind, but his face falls the second he unlocks his phone.

“She said she can’t make it,” Poe deflates. “She’s meeting up with someone else for lunch. Finn, she’s avoiding me, right? She doesn’t want to talk to me anymore. How am I supposed to explain anything to her like this?” Poe goes on rambling for- Finn has lost count of the number of times he has heard it.

“You got anything lessons later?” Poe shakes his head, already starting to sulk in his seat again.

“Let’s go to that diner off-campus you like so much,” Finn suggests. That’ll cheer him up.

---

“Jesus fucking Christ,” You curse, catching your cup before it tipped all the way spilling some of its contents on yourself in the process. A few heads turn your way in the diner but you pay no mind to it.

“That’s the second time I’m watching you spill something on yourself,” Ben clucks handing you tissues yet again.

“Shut up, Solo,” You snap at him, but take the tissues from him anyways, trying to blot the dampness from your sweatshirt.

“No no, I was right. You do need a nanny following you around cleaning up after you,” he sounds so monotonous but you just know he’s laughing at you.

“Oh, look at me I’m Ben Solo, I’m a med student and I need help to write a fucking essay!” You mock him in retaliation.

“Okay smartass, what about you help me instead of destroying more tables,” you flip him off as he pulls his laptop out of his bag and moves both your cups out of your reach.

“You’re mean, you know that?” You admonish him and not a second after the last word leaves your mouth, a heavy fabric hits you in the face.

You almost roll it back up and fling it back at him before he says, “Put it on, you’re going to be cold,” He had a point. Your half drenched sweatshirt wasn’t going to dry anytime soon. And the huge blot of brown didn’t exactly look great on your light grey sweatshirt.

“Thanks. You’re that mean,” you pronounce before draping it over your shoulders.

---

“Rey could help,” Finn suggests, rubbing his hands together in efforts to gain some warmth in the cold weather.

“She definitely will not help, I ate the last cookie,” Poe answers dejectedly scuffing the heel of his boot on the sidewalk, hands buried deep inside his pocket as he drags his feet beside Finn.

“I’ll ask her for you,” Finn offers. There was only so much whining a man can take, at least this way he will be helping Poe, and himself. Two birds, one stone.

Poe pushes open the door to the diner, the sounds and the smell immediately lifting his rotten mood. The diner is relatively small, but the checkered tiles and the smell of greasy burgers never fail to make him smile.

The diner is crowded as usual, filled with the sound of loud conversations and cutlery clinking together. Poe hadn’t taken two steps in when his heart plunges straight into his stomach.

He sees you there, looking gorgeous as ever, laughing with your friend. A jacket, clearly not yours, around your shoulders as the two of you sat squeezed into the same side of the booth. You pay no mind to anything else, he’s too far for you to notice him there.

So that’s why you ran away after kissing him. Poe has this sinking feeling that he has been reading the situation all wrong. You never did like him. It was Ben all along. And last night the kiss must have been a heat of the moment thing, not because you actually liked him. That was why you have been avoiding him since. Because you feel guilty.

It all makes sense now. He never should’ve kissed you.

Finn walks right into Poe, frozen in place. “The hell, man?” He slaps him on the shoulder. The actions seem to startle Poe out of his trance. He turns on his heel and storms off, not bothering to wait for Finn to catch up with him.

---

“She ditched me for Ben Solo,” Poe was positively fuming. “For Ben fucking Solo. Of all people Finn! Ben Solo,” he exclaims. Rey sits cross-legged on the sofa beside Finn, watching her friend slowly lose his mind. Clearly, the problem is Ben Solo related. Again. She has no idea what happened this time, but something tells her, now is not the best time to ask Poe about it. She could just ask Finn later.

“Calm down you’re gonna summon him or something,” Finn says looking for lunch to order, watching Poe pace. Clearly, lunch was the last thing on his mind, but Finn was hungry.

“Calm down? Ben Solo, Finn!” Poe exclaims.

“Jesus H. Christ,” Finn mutters under his breath.

“I need to take a walk. Come on Beebs,” The corgi happily jumps up from its perch on the sofa at the sound of the keys jiggling, following Poe hot on his heels.

“Oh my god, he’s gone crazy,” Finn mutters again, watching Poe walk out, almost slamming the door behind him.

“What was it this time?” Rey asks and Finn sighs heavily before explaining in great detail the events of the day.

“It could be a misunderstanding and maybe they are just friends. But given what happened last time, I don’t really blame Poe for assuming otherwise. Rey, you gotta talk to her. It already a big mess, we need to help,” He concludes, sprawled across the couch, his head resting on Rey’s lap as she thoughtfully munched on an apple.

“Okay, I’ll help him this time,” she nods slowly. “But I still don’t forgive him for eating the last cookie. It was supposed to be mine,” She huffs.

---

The Dameron taglist (open): @writefightandflightclub @arkofblake @yougottakeeponkeepinon @multifandomlife22 @skymerons @smol-peter-parker @rae-rae-patcha @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @spider-starry @hkmultifandom @cloud-leader @elmoakepoke @staringmoony @valhallavalkyrie9 @the-cry-of-youth @liadamerondjarin @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @takemepedropascal @xremember-me-notx

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron au #poe fic #poe x reader

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suumekoi · 4 years

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OK so basically. u start out the game w/ a different protag from the last game, this time ur uh another guy just starting out w/ ur first life, and from the beginning ur told that after (insert events of the previous game here) yuelia and the protag from the first game (im going 2 call the first protag lili for convenience bc thats the name of my fl chara) have basically just been chilling in reveria and things have been rlly peaceful bc theyve been around 2 protect everyone, but since they havent had much 2 do sometimes lili has taken up giving training to people in different lives bc she has a proficiency in all of them

so like in the first game the protag goes 2 the king 2 get their life's outfit and all and then the king instructs them 2 go 2 visit lili 2 learn the basics of their life, so u go there and meet yuelia and lili and u basically get a lil tutorial on ur life and all, before a sudden a loud noise outside interrupts what you were doing and the protag and everyone else runs outside 2 see what it was and UH turns out it is just a Big Fucking Dragon that somehow snuck up to castele (that will be explained later) and so everyone is understandably a bit freaked out by this, and what ends up happening is lili and yuelia tell everyone else in the town to evacuate while they handle fighting the dragon bc ykno they can handle it theyve fought dragons before!!!!!

so the protag goes with everyone else 2 evacuate from the town (maybe fighting a few enemies in the way as they go for a lil combat tutorial) and after a bit of time has passed and nothing has happened they send someone back 2 see what was going on, and they come back and go "hey i didnt see any dragon!!! i think we can go back now" so everyone heads back 2 castele and there Is no dragon so everyone assumes that lili and yuelia must have beaten it, but looking around for them everyone just finds both of them in castele square like Knocked Out Cold

yuelia wakes up and seems to be fine, but lili is injured and just like Exhausted almost like someone drained the energy out of her (hint hint) and yuelia notices lill was injured and attempts to heal her, but for some reason cant seem to manage it, much to her chagrin since her powers have never just. Not Worked before according to her

after they brought lili 2 someone that can help patch her up everyone else asks yuelia abt what happened, and she told them that fighting the dragon was Weird because it really only seemed focused on her and lili, like not on any of the ppl escaping or even really destroying anything because most everything was untouched minus the occasional misfire, and eventually she got knocked out and can't really explain what happened after that

and so everyone looks around and kinda comes to the conclusion that the dragon didnt come 2 attack the city, it came there for lili and yuelia specifically for reasons they dont know yet

things kinda calm down from the big drama, and as ppl are sorta just standing around or cleaning stuff up yuelia is just realising its not just her healing on the fritz, its All her powers

she starts to suspect somethings up and wants to go talk to divinius and noelia, the protag offers to guide yuelia to the goddess ship since she cant rlly defend herself as is and yuelia accepts and u both head for lunares 2 figure out whats goin on

after a bit of Adventuring u both get to lunares, and divinus confirms that Yup yuelias powers just like got Snatched, and after explaining what happened with lili says it was likely she had her energy stolen somehow as well, and then everyones just standing there like hm. this dragon whatever it is probably Literally has the powers of a goddess right now this might be kind of an issue??? so divinus tells the protag and yuelia to head back to reveria to look for the dragon bc thats the most likely spot it would be, and him and noelia will look for the dragon elsewhere 2 see if it escaped 2 another world

and after that part its a bit more chill, ur mostly focused on doing Life Quests and all that and u go out w/ yuelia 2 look for the dragon sometimes and ask others if they've seen it, but u ultimately dont end up finding much for a while

eventually yuelia ends up getting a message 2 come back 2 lunares bc they found something, so her and the protag go back there and divinus tells them he figured out the dragon wasnt actually In reveria this whole time (hence why u couldnt find it) and that its actually able 2 hop between different worlds w/e it wants (hence how it showed up so suddenly without anyone noticing) and then UH basically the rest of the game is the protag chasing this dragon between different worlds to try and figure out what its trying 2 do, and if anyone else might be behind all of this... ooooooo spoky

and thats kinda the basics of my idea!!!! i wont rlly elaborate past that bc if i do it Will be at least 20 more paragraphs but i feel like this is an alright overview jfdgjkd i dont think lili and yuelia will just be unable 2 fight the whole time tho, i like 2 think lili can join the protag as an ally once she stops Being Injured and while yuelia doesnt have her powers maybe she can try learning one of the combat lives........ please i wanna give her a cool staff but UH anyways thanks for coming 2 my ted talk im done now

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Ohh that's a really good idea too! The dimensions hopping dragon... Stealing powers from two specific people... Don't cliffhang up on me Ted. Keep on talking, I wanna know the full story*_* is the dragon gonna be stealing powers from other characters too?

Would also be cool if the dragon was stealing the power of wishes so everybody wouldn't be inspired to do anything in reveria, and then we later found out celestia has a sister(like yuelia and noelia) who's been trying to sabotage celestia's creation because she's jealous of her. But like everyone in a fantasy life game, she's not a villain, she just felt neglected because her sister was always spending time in that star tree and not with her. But seeing yuelia and noelia's sisterhood changed her. I think it would be cute anyway xD

#Idk if i should tag....im bad at tagging anywau xD #Fantasy life #submission

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everly-kindred · 3 years

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Eve’s Diary - Entry #97

Date: 2nd of July, 2028

Dear Diary,

Well, summer is officially here and I have come back home. I can’t tell you how good it feels to be able to just sleep in, to linger and explore in my dreams, and then spend my days playing outside with Puck and Cornelius and the rats, from sunup to sundown. I have a nice stack of books to get through this summer, but I haven’t touched them yet because I just want to spend the first little bit not using my brain as much as possible.

Little Lamplight has an event happening right now, I haven’t gone yet but I probably will. I want to say hi to my friends and see what’s going on! Anyways, let me catch you up on how the year ended before we talk about summer any more than I already have.

Towards the end of exams, I had a really nice moment with Marigold and Everett where we danced and twirled in the rain until we were dizzy and then we just laid in it. It was very cathartic. I love the rain so much, I wish we’d get more thunderstorms.

The Champion’s Feast happened, and there was smoked salmon which made me really happy, but then some drama happened. The Champions were supposed to give their speeches, but then they got interrupted when it came out that they had proof that their acting headmaster was the one behind Golovin’s murder, and then it was this whole thing and we had to evacuate the halls, there was something about that tall dark-haired Durmstrang girl being tortured and held hostage in his cabin on their ship? Anyways, the Ministry came and arrested him, there was a lot of fighting and anger.

And then the next day was the task. There was this muddy bog sort of thing surrounding a forest, and at the center of the forest was a phoenix surrounded by a ring of fire. And there were so many traps! Lars got into the forest and the ring of fire first. The champions had to shed everything but their wand and the clothes on their back, but they didn’t know they were being followed by a pogrebin which prevented them from keeping forward. Lars’ revealed itself when he got frustrated and knelt down, so he eliminated it and moved forward. And then he went into this… Celestial, ethereal mirror world, where he encountered himself in a mirror and got asked all these personal questions.

In the end, he couldn’t answer the questions properly and fought his way out. Then, he ended up at this bridge thing, where the cup was, and he got the cup before anyone else and then appeared in the sky with all these fireworks, so Durmstrang won in the end! Golovin’s ghost showed up and partied with his students, before vanishing at the end of the night, at peace I think! It was very emotional.

Down below, where Elliott and Cardan were, though… Cardan had the hardest time getting into the forest, and Elliott couldn’t get past the phoenix because of his own pogrebin. Cardan ended up casting something on Elliott, and then the two started fighting. They all got taken back to their tents and… That was that!

Slytherin ended up winning the house cup, though, and I’m actually quite happy about that. I think Elliott deserved that win, and I feel like he and Professor Rask do a really good job with the Slytherins. I hate seeing people perpetuate stereotypes about the houses, you know? Snakes are clever, and it made me really happy to see that cleverness put to work to bring their house pride! (Plus now I get to see the colour green every time I walk into the Great Hall and that makes me really happy, it’s my favourite colour.)

Oh, I also started colouring my hair bright, unnatural colours even before school ended. It was pink for awhile, and now it’s blue. I didn’t get stopped by any professors or prefects or anything. Maybe I’ll keep doing this next year… We shall see.

Anyways, we then said goodbye to the schools. There was… a lot of crying. It’s going to be so weird, going into next year without them. The school will feel… Emptier. Less interesting. I have a couple ideas for things to do to make things a little more fun, though. It’ll be interesting and… I can’t believe I’m going into my third year… And Mari and Talula and Bobby and that whole group are going into their fifth years. It’s wild to me.

I sat with Bobby on the train ride home, and we ate candy and played exploding snap. I fell asleep on his shoulder. It was really nice, and we’re going to play Dungeons and Dragons this summer. Dad got me an adventurer’s guide book that he thought I’d like, so I might try my hand at being a dungeon master? It’s called Candlekeep Mysteries and it’s got a lot to do with the Feywild! So I’m really excited about it. And I want to go watch Bobby play rugby.

Lately I’ve been reading a lot about the Fae and Irish mythology and lore about them, and I’ve been drawing a bit, too. I’m so glad that it’s summer. I feel like I can breathe again. I’m not sure what it was about this year that drained me as badly as it did, I didn’t really do anything. But maybe that’s what it was - I wasn’t drawing or writing or even really hanging out with my friends. I should try to change that next year, and maybe it’ll be better?

Oh, there was one other thing, before I go. I had a really weird, vivid dream. It was like I was floating in the ocean, and I could see the moon in a clear sky. She was so huge, and it felt like the ocean was carrying me towards her. And then I started to sink, and I was very aware of a large creature being in the water with me, which is like, my nightmare. I hate swimming with creatures! So I started to panic, and then I started to drown, and there was all this loud crashing… I think there was other things happening, and it was so vivid at the time, but the memories broke into pieces the moment I woke up and kinda just faded away, instantly.

I had more nightmares that night, too, but they felt different and I remembered them perfectly. I don’t want to talk about those, though. In a nutshell, it was just me being worried about Puck, but he’s perfectly fine and laying in bed with me. Anyways, it’s about time I get the day started, so I’m gonna go.

Much love, Everly

[ Flickr ]

[ Eve’s Wiki Page ]

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ineffably-good · 4 years

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Prompt: Scars

Part three of a mini-series from my recent prompts. You can read part one here and part two here.

Want more? You can read all of the Good Omens Celebration prompts I’ve completed on AO3!

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Part 3: Project Heavenly Slumbers

Crowley was sitting in the market square in Baghdad when he felt a burst of angelic energy that he knew marked the incorporation of an entity from Above. Over time, he’d come to be able to differentiate Aziraphale’s arrival from that of the other angels who sometimes came down – Gabriel was easy to spot because of the unnecessary fanfare he allowed, and he’d learned through necessity to identify the sociopath Sandalphon and that scary bastard Michael. In comparison, Aziraphale’s energy signature was gentler, a calmer, more peaceful feeling.

Usually, that is. Today it felt like a punch in the gut.

Crowley swallowed nervously. That kind of feeling invariably meant that the angel was really, really angry. He wondered what Heaven had done now.

Only one way to find out. He made his farewells to the merchants he’d been discussing politics with, tucked his purchases into his pocket, and scented off after the angel’s trail like a bloodhound.

He found him about an hour later in a tavern. The angel was seated in a sparsely populated outdoor courtyard, a clay cup of something in front of himself, and he looked rather like a thunderstorm waiting to break.

The angel did not look up as Crowley slid into a seat across from him.

“Hello Aziraphale,” he said cautiously. “Everything all right?”

“Come to gloat, did you?” the angel said, icily, not looking up from his drink.

Crowley blinked. “Gloat? What about?”

The angel looked up, his eyes a cold, hard blue. “You know exactly what about.”

Crowley laid out both hands in a gesture of seeming innocence. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” he said. “What did I do?”

Aziraphale picked up his mug, drained it with one deep, long swallow, and plunked a coin on the table before standing up and stalking away.

Crowley rolled his eyes and muttered something about drama before following the angel at a safe distance. Angry angels, even when it was Aziraphale, were not something to mess with, and he could tell from the set of his friend’s shoulders that he knew he was being followed.

Eventually, Aziraphale veered off into a walled public garden that offered a chance at some privacy, and Crowley followed him in. The angel led him deeper in, towards the edges of a pretty little fountain, looked around to ensure there were no other people around, and then whirled on the demon ferociously.

Crowley took a step back in spite of himself at the look on the angel’s face.

“You sabotaged me,” Aziraphale spat. “Don’t even pretend that you didn’t.”

Crowley made a face, ignoring a twinge of reflexive guilt. “Did not. What are you talking about?”

Aziraphale took a threatening step forward. “Your – your chants, and your powders got me in a lot of trouble, demon. And I think you did that on purpose.”

Crowley stepped back again. “You asked me for help!” he protested. “I gave you what you asked for!”

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes. “And you didn’t think, in any part of you, that what you offered me was probably going to get me into a little bit of trouble? Chants from eastern heretical religions? A powder you didn’t happen to tell me was opium??”

The guilt become a little more front and center at that. Just a little demonic joke, that was all he had intended. He didn’t mean to get the angel in trouble.

Crowley shrugged helplessly. “’m a demon, Aziraphale! I’m supposed to cause a little mischief!” He swallowed and struggled to find a way of admitting remorse without actually saying the words. “Didn’t mean to cause any harm.”

Aziraphale made a noncoherent noise of frustration and rage and then threw himself down on a bench and buried his face in his hands.

Crowley watched him for a few seconds, and then took a careful step towards him. He didn’t quite dare to sit down next to him on the bench, so instead he sank down to sit on the grass beside him, just out of striking range if the angel should decide to smack him, but close enough to speak quietly. He folded his knees under him in case he needed to spring up suddenly to foil an attack. It had been millennia since they’d had an outright physical altercation, but the memory of it was still with him.

“Didn’t mean I wasn’t genuinely trying to help, though, angel,” he said. “What happened, anyways?”

The angel slumped and the anger seemed to click down a few notches. “No one could sleep. We tried everything – music, food, breathing, meditation, exercise. Eventually I let them try the powders – yes, I know you said to be careful with them – on a couple of occasions, which helped a bit, but still, the project was an abysmal failure.”

“No one slept?”

“No one but me,” Aziraphale said. “And then I got called to task for my heretical techniques, and the fact that I got several innocent guardian angels hooked on opium.” He glared balefully at the demon.

Crowley tried hard not to laugh. It wasn’t funny, he told himself. It really wasn’t.

“It’s not funny,” Aziraphale said, not fooled for a second. “You have no idea what they’re like up there. They’re awful! I’d rather face a demon.”

“What did they do to you?”

“Oh,” Aziraphale said, seeming embarrassed. “Various things. Multiple dressing downs, public shaming, slap on the wrist. Got demoted. They put Sandalphon in charge of finalizing things with Charlemagne, which will be a nightmare, and it will be ages before they give me anything truly interesting to do again. Shipping me off to Asia soon, since I’m apparently so interested in them.”

That didn’t sound so bad, Crowley thought, but then again, he hadn’t really known Aziraphale to exaggerate in the past, and he’d gotten the impression here and there that some of his superiors were gigantic assholes. He had to imagine that whatever Aziraphale went through probably hadn’t been fun, even if Heaven didn’t deal with discipline issues by running you through with a pitchfork. In Hell’s defense, once they got through torturing you, they were generally pretty quick to act like nothing had ever happened. Heaven seemed keener on holding a grudge.

“I’m sorry, angel,” he said quietly. “I really didn’t mean to get you into trouble with the bosses.”

The angel sighed again. “I suppose you were just doing your job,” he said, sounding resigned. “My fault for asking a demon for help.”

That wasn’t quite the resolution he had been hoping for, Crowley thought, but it was better than the bitter recrimination of a few minutes ago. He made a mental note: the angel is off limits for playing tricks on. He underlined it, twice, highlighted it in bright yellow, and tucked it away in a mental folder called IMPORTANT STUFF. He would try not to make that mistake again.

Now to try to smooth over the scars he’d left behind by this blunder.

“You’re going to Asia?” he said. “Whereabouts? I think you might like it there, quite a bit, actually. I was there last century and some of what they’re doing in China right now is astonishing!”

Aziraphale looked him full in the eye for the first time, a bit of wariness still showing, but interested despite himself. “Oh really? I suppose we could go back to the tavern for another drink and you could tell me about it.”

“Sounds good, angel,” Crowley said.

“Not that I’m going to be taking any advice from you, mind you,” the angel said acerbically.

“No, no,” the demon agreed peacefully. “Wouldn’t dream of offering any.” He thought for a minute and extended a careful olive branch. “Although there’s a dish they make here that you really should try if you feel like having a nibble – it’s called a pastilla, made up of savory spiced chicken and eggs topped with almonds and cinnamon in a pastry shell. I think you’d like it… Care for a bite?”

Aziraphale made a noise of interest. The sun began to set behind them as they headed out of the garden, two almost-friends walking side by side through the deepening gloom, feeling their way back towards equilibrium.

#goc2020 #good omens #good omens fanfiction #Aziraphale x crowley #early days #Baghdad golden age #angry aziraphale

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particularemu · 4 years

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Okay what the fuck?

Excuse my language and my intense frustration, but I have something to say about all the anon hate spreading around like wildfire around here.

I wasn’t going to say anything, because I’d prefer to keep this a drama-free blog full of Hyunjin and Minho hip thrusts — but here we are, because lately I’ve been seeing WAYYYYYY too much anon hate on my damn dash.

Especially when it comes to writers.

Actually — now that I think about it — ALL the anon hate I’ve seen lately is directed towards Stray Kids writers. (Of course this is based off the Stray Kids blogs I follow — there’s a lot more out there smh)

And that’s bullshit!

First of all, I want you to think about the piece you just read that was so-called “horrible.” Maybe you caught that writer on a bad day? Maybe that request has been burning a hole in their ask box for half a year? Maybe they felt like getting SOMETHING out because they haven’t posted in a while?

Or maybe… maybe they’re new. Did you ever think of that? All good writers were once horrible. They’ll develop over time and they’ll thrive if you point out what you enjoyed about the fic vs. saying it sucked. (actually all writers thrive off that shit, so if you want to make our day, be kind lol)

As a writer, I know that writing takes a lot of time and energy — BUT it also takes a lot of brainpower. When we’re dealing with work, school, etc, it gets really hard to put a ton of effort into the fics we’re writing. So yeah… sometimes they do suck 🤷‍♀️Sometimes our work isn’t as good as it used to be because we’re mentally drained.

Sending anon hate doesn’t help that.

The anon button wasn’t made for people to send cruel messages to bloggers. No — it was created for those who are too anxious to reach out to other people, those who have sideblogs and don’t want to send asks with their main, AND those who’d like to do kind deeds without their name being attached.

The anon button is NOT for telling people they suck. It’s NOT for telling people they should kill themselves. It’s NOT for telling people that they’re disgusting for liking ships. The anon button is NOT for hateful shenanigans.

We as writers (or people in general) put a lot of trust in y’all when we leave the anon option on. We leave it on so you guys can send in requests and feel like you aren’t being judged (tho let’s be real, if any of y’all requested some hardcore smut shit, I’d DM you and try to be friends with you)

To the hateful anon(s), I hope you think about what you’re doing. I’m not about to be hateful and tell you that you should get the fuck off tumblr or anything, because I’m aware that you’re a person just like the rest of us. People make mistakes.

But please — there are better ways to get attention. Instead of spreading hate and creating unnecessary drama, why don’t you leave a nice note in their ask box? If you actually do hate what that person is creating, click off their blog. Then you don’t have to see their work and everyone stays happy.

To those who have received anon hate lately, stay positive love. You don’t deserve that kind of treatment, and if you need someone to hype you up after all the hate you’ve received, please message me and I WILL deliver.

Also please please PLEASE block these people. On the bottom right-hand corner of your anon message, there are three little dots. Click that shit. These three options will pop up:

Report, Block, Delete.

Don’t be afraid to use any of these options.

Let’s make Tumblr a peaceful place, yeah?

#fucking hell the hate needs to stop #i'm not trying to sound overly aggressive #but my friends are involved #and i'm feeling like a protective mama bear #i can already tell that i'm going to need some STRONG coffee #so I can fight the person sending all this anon hate

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donteattheappleshook · 4 years

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Of Cars and Bars Chapter 14/14

Here it is, after three years, the epilogue to Of Cars and Bars. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and commented and sent kudos/liked or reblogged here or on Ao3 or Fanfiction.net. Every single one brought me so much joy and made me keep writing even when I didn't think I could. I hope you like the ending I gave these two idiots.

Also, as always, thank you to @kmomof4 for all your amazing help and support writing this story <3 Dedicating it to you for the last time :’(

Also thanks to @artistic-writer for helping me start this freaking epilogue when I was tearing my hair out!

Summary:

Rated E

When Emma Swan is offered the chance to go on tour as an opener for one of the most popular up and coming bands of the decade, the last thing she expects is to find that the lead guitarist is the stranger she had a one night stand with five years ago.

This started out as a smutty two shot about Emma Ruby and Mary Margaret going on a road trip and has evolved into a slow-burn mutual pining angst-fest.

Read it from the beginning on Ao3 and Ffn because tumblr eats all my italics.

Epilogue - Heal Me

I wasn't looking for you / But I think maybe I was and didn't know / Oh this is love like wildness / Coursing through you like a drug

The trial had dragged on for another month. Another month of long nights and exhausting days at the end of which Killian came home to the tiny apartment he shared with his brother and his sister-in-law drained and worn out both emotionally and physically. But it was different now than it had been. Because Emma was there. She’d stayed. She’d joined them in their cramped little two bedroom until all of the drama was over and they were finally able to go back to New York.

It had been fun if he was honest. Sure, the four of them had been practically living on top of each other, but he felt supported, surrounded by love. He and Emma spent that month sneaking around like teenagers, occasionally waking up to disapproving looks from Liam and Belle, but they didn’t hold any real venom. He could tell that they were happy he had Emma.

Emma had been worried that Liam wouldn’t forgive her. She’d told him the whole story, about how she’d promised Liam back when they were on tour that she wouldn’t break his heart and when she had, Liam had called her out on it. While he was annoyed with his brother for meddling in his life, it was also another reminder that he had a family who would always look out for him.

Liam had forgiven her. Easily, to everyone’s surprise. He’d said that he understood that sometimes it took time for people to realise their mistakes and do the right thing. Killian was shocked to hear those words come from his brother’s mouth. He was always so black and white. Perhaps Belle was rubbing off on him. But maybe it was because she had come back and Liam realized that the present and future were what mattered, not the past. Whatever the reason was, he was glad that the two most important people in his life had made peace.

Gold had been denied probation, had been denied a mistrial and he was sent back to prison. He would likely have another chance at parole, another chance to appeal the decision, but they would deal with that when they came to it. For now, justice had been served and Killian could finally rest, feeling that Milah had been avenged in some way.

When the dust had settled, they’d headed back to the States. Originally, they had wanted to start their tour right away but had decided that it was better to wait until the next summer. Besides, the Ugly Ducklings were in the middle of recording an album and Robin wanted them to finish it - wanted to have it drop while there was still some summer left. He also suggested that it would be better for them to tour after the record had been released so that people would know their songs and buy more tickets.

There had been negotiations about that. About whether or not it was a good idea to have double headlining acts or if the Ugly Ducklings should still open for Abandon Ship! since they were still lesser known. That decision had been made for them however, when the girls’ album went platinum two weeks after it was released.

Emma had been shocked. She didn’t understand what the hell had happened but somehow, overnight, they were famous. They couldn’t go out on the streets without being recognized, without constant demands for photos and autographs. Suddenly she was overwhelmed with requests for interviews and appearances on talk shows and morning shows.

That had been another reason the tour was delayed. Between the success of the two groups, there was barely time left to schedule one, hardly any time that they were both available. Belle, as both of their managers now, had wanted them to ride the success of the album, to go on tour right away. But it hadn’t been possible. So it had been delayed until the new year.

A sort of competition had started between the two bands as both their albums continued to have songs rivaling for the number one song in the country over the months that followed. Killian particularly enjoyed it because whenever Emma would brag that her song had beat his, he could brag that he still won because the song was about him. In fairness, she could claim the same.

Emma was convinced that their sudden popularity had more to do with the very public display of affection between her and Killian that day in London. She was sure that people had looked her up and found the album that way. Killian was convinced that it was the video of their last encore that had gone viral. She’d created a one-time, exclusive song that had no other recording apart from one enthusiastic cameraman who had leaked it online and the throngs of cellphone videos.

She’d given them that one taste of what she could do and then had finally released it a few months later with a whole album of equally fantastic songs. Besides, Killian had said, Why did it matter? People were listening to her music. They heard it and they liked it and she touched people with her lyrics and her melodies. Did it matter how they had gotten there?

Despite how busy they were, Emma and Killian still managed to find time to write together. They’d started in London whenever Killian had a particularly rough time with the case and needed to vent, needed an outlet for his pain. They’d continued when they moved back to New York - Emma with Ruby and Mary Margaret, and Killian with Graham and David. It was all of three months before their friends demanded that they move out of their apartments and in with each other, sick of the constant displays of affection.

Emma felt bad - kind of. She kept expecting it to stop. Kept expecting to want him less, for the pull between them to relax, to slow. She thought she’d eventually stop wanting to touch him all the time, to make love to him all the time. But she didn’t. She couldn’t get enough of him, couldn’t keep her hands to herself, nor could he keep his to himself.

She couldn't help it. She loved being around him, loved the way he made her feel and laugh and think and the way he brought out the music in her. She liked talking to him, listening to him talk, liked being vulnerable with him and seeing him open up to her. Maybe this was just love, she thought. Maybe she really hadn’t felt it before him.

One of their songs, however, had blown up in a way she never expected. Most times, when they wrote, it was one helping the other work through a bit they were stuck on, helping them fix the chord or the lyric that sounded wrong. But this one they'd written together. The lyrics, the melody, and the feelings that inspired it were equally his and hers.

They hadn’t even meant for it to be released. Ruby had overheard it when she’d come over when they were in the middle of a writing session. Her exact words had been ‘holy fuck’. She’d had them play it for Belle and the guys and Mary Margaret, all of whom insisted that the song needed to be recorded, not by either group but by the two of them, released as a stand alone single.

Belle had insisted they release it on social media first. On twitter and instagram and others Emma hadn’t heard of. They’d released it under Killian Jones from Abandon Ship! and Emma Swan from the Ugly Ducklings, and they’d recorded it in their apartment, both of them sitting on a pair of kitchen chairs in their living room with a few mics set up. Just them and their guitars playing together and to each other, two of the biggest new faces in music, one of the most talked about and gossiped about couples in the industry (and drooled over as Killian liked to remind everyone), singing a love song to and about each other.

They went viral in an hour. The song was constantly talked about online and on talk shows and in press interviews - as was their relationship. They were asked dozens and dozens of times to confirm that they were in fact a couple. Killian was thrilled that he could say yes, that he could tell the whole world that he loved Emma Swan and that she loved him too. He was even more thrilled when she was the one to say it.

It didn’t scare her anymore. She was still a private person, still didn’t like anyone knowing anything about her personal life really, but he knew that she didn’t care that the whole world knew she was in love with him. And that thought made his heart soar every time.

And then the really crazy thing happened. They were nominated. For a Grammy. They hadn’t believed it at first when they’d gotten the call, had thought it was a prank orchestrated by Graham and David. But when it turned out to be true, and it really sunk in, he’d pulled her into his arms, laughing into her neck, unable to stop smiling. He’d known that they wrote good music together, knew that she made him better and that he made her better. But he’d never imagined this.

Arrangements had been made quickly, Belle determined to ride the wave of their Grammy win - nomination, Belle, Emma kept reminding her only to receive a dismissive wave. They managed to find a way to book a tour, to move enough things around so that they could start the day after the awards from Los Angeles and then make their way across the country. And then the UK. And then the rest of Europe.

That was where they were now, in a hotel room in L.A. the day of the Grammys. Emma was supposed to be getting ready for the awards tonight. She should have left a little while ago really. But while she was excited to go back on tour, was honoured and humbled that they’d been nominated for best song, the idea of leaving the hotel room, leaving the hotel room bed where she was currently tangled up with a very attractive and very naked rockstar made spending hours being gussied up sound like a far less appealing option.

“We need to get going, Swan,” Killian said detangling himself from her arms despite her best efforts and stepping off the side of the bed. Emma pouted.

“No, we don’t,” she whined, reaching for him again but he danced out of her reach. He laughed. He always laughed when she was this frustrated, and a little needy for him too, honestly. It wasn’t her fault. He was standing there next to the bed in all his God-given glory, miles of bare arms and legs and chest and ass on display. It was really just cruel of him.

“You’re right,” he said. “I don’t have to get going. You do.”

She groaned and rolled her eyes, not happy with the reminder of what the rest of her day and night was going to look like. “Do we have to go? Why don’t we just stay here?” she asked, reaching for his hand and trying to coax him back into bed with her. He was really doing his best to resist, she could tell, but his resolve was weakening. She saw the smirk pulling at his lips, saw the way his eyebrow ticked up. He didn’t pull his hand away.

“Emma, it’s the Grammys. We’re nominated. We can’t just not go.” She couldn’t tell if he was trying to convince her or himself.

She dropped his hand, rolled over onto her back and let out another, long-suffering groan. She knew she had to go but there were so many other fun things she’d rather do instead. The fact that they’d just done them was irrelevant. He sat on the bed next to her, laughing again.

“I know that,” she said. “But you get to just throw on a suit and head out the door. I have to go let myself be poked and prodded by a bunch of strangers trying to fit me into some ridiculous dress that Mary Margaret picked out.”

“Don’t you want to go and be pampered by people whose only job is to dote on you?”

“I’d rather you pamper and dote on me,” she said, running her arm up his forearm.

“Oh, really?” he asked, eyebrows raised, leaning in just a little.

“Mhm. Poked and prodded sounds good too.”

He grinned. “And how exactly would you like to be pampered, Swan?” he asked, his own hand finding her wrist, trailing up the inside of her arm to her elbow, up to her shoulder and across her collarbone.

“You know exactly how I like it,” she told him, trying to keep her breathing steady as his hand ghosted down between her breasts, over her stomach and across her hips.

He hummed. “But I want you to tell me.” Fucking hell.

“Kiss me,” she said, still shy when it came to this sort of thing but the way he reacted whenever she told him what she wanted, when she talked when they were together like this spurred her on.

“Where?” he asked with a wicked grin. She rolled her eyes, grabbed hold of the back of his neck and pulled him down to her lips. He went willingly, his mouth sliding over hers, lips parting when she licked at them, stroking her tongue with his. She really really thought she’d get over the way he kissed some day, that she’d get used to it, that it wouldn’t turn her on as much as if his mouth was moving between her legs. But god the man could kiss. She was already squirming under him, caged between his arms that were braced on either side of her, decidedly not on her body.

“Touch me,” she whined against his lips. She felt him smile against her.

“Where?” he asked before kissing her again. She took hold of his hand, lowered it to the ache between her thighs.

“Here,” she breathed.

She felt his breath catch, puffed against her lips as his fingers met her wet heat. “Always so wet for me, Swan,” he mumbled.

“Always,” she said. “Please, Killian,” she asked and he obliged, slipping one finger inside of her, sliding in easily and pumping slowly. She arched her back, pushing up against his hand. “More,” she begged and he slid in a second finger.

“Like that?” he asked, increasing the speed of his thrusts. It felt amazing but not enough. She looked up at him, saw him watching her with that same hint of the wicked smile from before, but his eyes were darker now, hooded as she writhed beneath him. But he waited. She knew she would have to tell him what she wanted. Fine. If he was going to make her beg for it then she was going to make sure he paid for it.

She grabbed his hair, pulled his head down. “Kiss my neck,” she told him, frowning when he began pressing soft, slow brushes of his lips down the column of her throat. “No,” she told him, tightening her hold, his fingers were still moving inside of her and she canted her hips, trying to increase his rhythm. “Properly. Bite me. Lick me,” she demanded.

She gasped as his mouth opened against her skin, his tongue dragging and flicking as his lips sucked at her flesh, finding the spots he knew drove her crazy. She canted her hips again and he took pity on her, flattening his palm against her so she could grind her clit against the heel. His teeth found the spot where her shoulder met her neck, biting down, just the right side of painful. She moaned and his lips curled against her shoulder.

“Lower,” she insisted, voice cracking as she dragged his face down to her breast. He waited. “Fuck, Killian, are you gonna make me ask you to suck my tits?” she growled, getting really annoyed at this game he seemed to be having so much fun with.

“That will do, Love,” he said before shifting on the bed so that he was laying next to her, hovering over her, steadying himself on an elbow. He put a knee between her legs, kept up the slow, torturous movement of his fingers as he took her breast into his mouth, rolling his tongue over her nipple before sucking at the sensitive bud.

“Yes,” she moaned. “Use your tongue again,” she demanded and he groaned against her before dragging his tongue over her nipple, flicking at it. “More,” she demanded, not even really sure what she was asking for but when he bit down on the tip she practically screamed in pleasure. Thank God he knew what she was asking for.

“Both of them,” she begged, not realising until his fingers slipped out of her heat that she’d made a mistake. “Wait, no,” she started but he only chuckled against her breast, his hand coming to the other, cupping it, wet fingers drawing lazy circles around her nipple before he dragged his thumb over it.

Her head fell back against the pillows, a small cry drawn from her lips as she arched her back into his touch. She needed more though, missed the friction between her legs and she grabbed at his hips, trying to nudge him over so she could press his thigh against her core. He didn’t move easily though and she cried out in frustration.

“Fuck, Killian! Give me something to ride!” She felt him stiffen, felt the way his fingers pinched at her nipple in a way that didn’t seem intentional. Good. She was getting to him too. She really only had the chance to feel smug for a second before he lowered himself into the cradle of her thighs, the rough hair below his navel pressing down on her clit as he let her grind her hips against him.

Emma was reeling, unable to think of anything besides the feel of his mouth and his fingers on her nipples and the pressure between her legs that was growing with every grind of her hips against him. She was lightheaded, lost to the sensations, pretty sure she was going to come from this alone. She let out a desperate moan and felt his answering growl against her skin, felt him press his hips further into her. She wanted more. She wanted -

“I want your mouth,” she gasped. “I want your tongue inside me and your fingers. I want you to lick me, suck my clit.” She grabbed at his hair again, pulled sharply. “Eat me out,” she demanded. The words felt crass coming out of her mouth but she couldn't think of another way to say it. That was exactly what she wanted. She wanted him to lick and suck at her like a starving man. She wanted him to devour her.

He growled again, giving her nipple a harsh flick before sliding down her body, pressing fast, hot kisses across her belly on his way down. She cried out, doubling over when he began his assault, his tongue dragging through her folds once, twice, before pushing inside of her, curling and licking at the wetness there. She felt his groan vibrating through her core, sending shivers down her spine.

She moaned, called out his name, and he did it again. And then again before pulling back and sliding his fingers back in, reaching deeper, stretching her wider. He curled them the same way he had his tongue, dragging against that spot that made her see stars. She could feel his breath on her but not his mouth and she writhed in frustration.

“What's wrong, Swan?” he asked, a teasing lilt to his voice but it was obscured by the rough tenor that betrayed his desire. “Is that not what you want?”

“I already told you what I want!” she snapped, lifting her hips towards his face but he pulled back.

“Tell me again,” he rasped. Asshole, she thought, she glanced down at him and saw the darkness in his eyes, the blue almost completely swallowed by black, his lips swollen and damp. He was pleading, looking nearly as on edge as she was.

“I want your mouth on me, Killian. I want you to make me come on your tongue. And then again on your cock.”

“Because I’m the only one who can make you fall apart every time, aren’t I? The only one who's ever been able to.” She never should have told him that.

“Then prove it!”

She saw the challenge in his eyes as they narrowed. His free hand grabbed hold of her thigh, wrapping around it and pulling her roughly against his mouth as he dove in, finding her clit with his tongue, flicking and circling and toying with it before pulling it into his mouth. He added a finger, thrusting faster, stretching her, filling her so perfectly as he continued to lick at her most sensitive spot.

“Yes!” she cried. “Oh, fuck, Killian, yes! Don’t stop.” She was grinding against his face, against his fingers, riding him faster and faster to her climax. He was relentless, pressing down on her hips to hold her steady as he pulled harder at her clit, curled his fingers, dragging them against her walls on every pass. The coil tightened in her belly, in her spine, every nerve in her body burning hotter until she was sure she would burst into flames.

“Make me come,” she gasped between moans and he rolled his tongue, pulling her clit harder into his mouth, sucking deeper and she broke, her back arching off the bed, toes curling into the mattress as her fingers gripped the pillow under her head.

It felt like ages before she had enough control of her limbs, enough of her senses back to look up at him - to even open her eyes. When she did, he was kneeling at the end of the bed, eyes hooded and hand stroking lightly at his cock, smearing her wetness over it as he watched her.

“I love watching you come,” he said, voice low and strained. He moved to fall over her but she stopped him, putting her foot on his chest. He raised an eyebrow and she smirked.

“You’re not the only one who likes to watch,” she told him and felt the heat of his desire wash over her as he gripped himself tighter, his hand pumping over his generous length.

Emma cocked her head as she took him in, the clenching of his jaw, the tauntness of his neck and shoulders, and the way the muscles flexed in his forearm as he brought himself closer to the edge. His head fell back for a moment as his hand sped up and she bit her lip. Fuck, he looked hot like this, lost in his own pleasure, mouth hanging open as small, desperate sounds escaped him.

His eyes found her again, raking over her from head to toe as he increased his pace, biting his lip. She rubbed her legs together, trying to soothe the ache that was already building between them. She saw his eyes flare and zero in on her center.

“Bloody hell, Emma,” he groaned. “Please.”

“Please what?” she asked and she smirked as his eyes darkened. “Tell me what you want,” she taunted, turning his own game against him.

He growled before crawling up the bed, pulling her legs apart and pushing himself between them. She gasped when she felt the tip of him brush through her folds. He leaned over her, caging her in with his arms as he brought his face within breathing distance of her own, speaking his next words against her lips.

“I want to bury myself inside you. Push my cock deep into your cunt until you cry out like you always do when I fill you up just the way you like.” She gasped into his mouth, back arching with every teasing, shallow thrust of his hips, his cock nudging at her clit and sending shockwaves coursing through her. He brought his hand to her breast, palming it, rolling her nipple under it until it was hard, craving more. Fuck. Why did she think she could beat him at this game? “Is that what you want to hear?” he asked, catching her bottom lip between his teeth and dragging them slowly over it before moving to her jaw.

“Yes,” she moaned, grabbing hold of his hip, pulling him closer. “Fucking do it already,” she demanded and he didn’t even laugh, didn’t revel in his victory which told her that he was just as desperate as she was. He took himself in hand, finding her entrance and slid in with one firm stroke.

“So wet,” he gasped, head falling to her chest. “So tight.”

She pushed her hips up against him, letting him slip even deeper and he took the hint, pulling back only to thrust back in hard and fast and so fucking deep. She held on to his shoulders as he rutted against her, a series of grunts and gasps leaving him as he moved inside of her, his pace fast, rough, almost sloppy. She revelled in it, in his desperation and naked want for her.

She could tell he was close, the cries falling from his lips coming faster, his thrusts matching them. She felt the sweat on his back, the strain of his muscles as he raced towards that edge. She was close too. The deep, powerful thrusts hitting a spot inside of her that always sent her careening towards her peak. She brought her hand down between them, circling at her clit in time with the pounding of his hips.

“Fuck,” he breathed against her and she didn’t know if it was because of his own pleasure or the thought of her touching herself. She didn’t care though as he increased his pace, arm sliding around her back, hand gripping her shoulder so hard she was sure he’d leave bruises - wouldn’t that be fun to explain on the red carpet - and she could tell he was nearly there.

He pushed her hand away, his own fingers taking over, his thumb pressing and circling so hard it was almost painful. She let out a shocked cry as she felt herself racing towards her orgasm, no longer in control, the sensation overwhelming. She gasped into his ear, her words choking on her cries. “I want you to come.”

He groaned, hand snapping to the mattress beside her, fisting in the sheets as he drove into her at a breakneck pace before crying out against her neck. He pressed down on her clit, scraping at it as he spilled himself inside of her and she jerked, scream catching in her throat as her body convulsed, her orgasm crashing over her hard and fast and sudden. He kept his hand there and the pressure, the sting of it kept the waves coursing through her, aftershocks pulsing through her endlessly until he finally released her, stroking her gently, soothingly as he eased her down.

His arms shook with the strain of holding his weight off of her and he slowly rolled over, collapsing on his side. Still trembling, she turned her head so she could look at him, always loving the way his face looked after he came, eyes closed, brow pulled up, mouth open - an expression of blissful anguish. She reached out, stroking his cheek with the back of her hand and then brushing her thumb over his bottom lip.

He caught her hand, kissed her palm though panting breaths. His eyes fluttered open, smiling at her sweetly at first and then with increasing smugness.

“What?”

He reached out, traced her jaw with his thumb. “Darling you are going to look thoroughly fucked walking down that red carpet.”

Right on cue, there was a banging at their door. “Emma! You’re late! You have two seconds to get your ass dressed and out this door before I come in and drag you out,” Mary Margaret warned. Emma groaned and Killian laughed.

“Well, at least she’s started asking before using her key,” he shrugged. Yes, she’d only made that mistake once and she’d gotten more of an eyeful of Killian than she’d ever wanted. Emma rolled out of bed, Killian’s laughter still following her as she pulled on a bra and underwear before throwing her sweats on. She went to open the door, Killian throwing the sheet over his hips.

Mary Margaret stood on the other side, eyes raised to the ceiling before she looked down, making sure she wouldn’t be seeing a naked Killian again. She looked Emma over from head to toe and then glanced back at where Killian was laying in the bed behind her.

“Oh, for God's sake,” she groaned. “You do realise we need to be at the Staples Center in three hours and we were supposed to be at hair and makeup twenty minutes ago.”

“Can’t I just do that on my own?” she whined. “Just throw on some mascara and some lipstick and maybe a dress I can actually move in?”

Mary Margaret took a deep, centering yoga breath. “Emma. You are going to walk on stage in front of thousands of people. This will be broadcast world wide. You are not going to slap some makeup on your face and wear your damn jeans.”

“I didn’t say my jeans.”

“This is serious,” she said, taking her hands, her tone softer now. “Emma, your music has reached so many people, touched so many lives. And now people want to thank you for it, want to congratulate you for it with the biggest honour you can recieve in this business.”

Emma looked down, a bit abashed. “Okay.”

“Good. So show some goddamn respect and let’s go doll you up!” Emma’s mouth fell open, eyes snapping to her friend. Had she been tricked? She’d been tricked. Damn Mary Margaret.

After hours of being poked and prodded in a much less pleasant way than earlier, Emma was released from the studio. She had to admit, she looked pretty damn good. Her dress was a dark, midnight blue that brought out her skin tone and hugged her shape (probably enhanced it if she was being honest). Her makeup was flawless but thankfully not heavy and overdone like she’d feared. Her hair, however, had refused to lose that slight madness, that slight wildness that screamed that she had been completely and thoroughly fucked. She smiled a little secret smile at the idea.

“I told you,” Mary Margaret said as she, Ruby and Belle all took a moment to complete a few finishing touches before heading out the door. There were limos waiting outside, the guys already dressed and ready to go. They probably even had time for a nap, Emma begrudged them. And a snack, she thought as her stomach growled.

Belle had planned out the limos strategically. Graham, David, Liam and herself were in one, Ruby and Mary Margaret in another. Emma and Killian had been specifically instructed to show up in a third limo, last of the three to arrive. Belle said they needed to play up their relationship for the tour and the publicity. And they were nominated together.

Emma wasn’t thrilled about using her relationship for fame but she did like that she’d have Killian beside her all night, there holding her hand and making sure she didn’t panic and freeze up in front of everyone. Or trip in the stupid heels Belle had picked out.

Graham and David popped out of the car to say hello to Mary Margaret and Ruby. David took Mary Margaret’s hand, twirling her around like a princess as he showered her with compliments and she giggled like a schoolgirl. Graham, a man of few words, took one look at Ruby and his jaw dropped, a breathless ‘wow’ escaping him. Ruby smirked, grabbing him by his tie and pressing her lips to his. The dazed look on his face when she pulled away and wiped the lipstick off his face was priceless.

Killian stepped out, dressed in a dark blue suit that made his eyes look even brighter, as though that were even possible. His hair was combed neatly and his beard was trimmed. Emma’s jaw practically dropped when she saw him. In all the months they’d been together now, she’d never seen him dressed up like this. He looked good. She smirked as she watched his eyes rake over her, his tongue coming out to wet his bottom lip.

“Swan,” he said, reaching his hand out for her. She took it, letting him help her into the car. She slid over and he followed her in. Before the door could be shut though, Belle stopped it, one hand on the frame. She shot Killian a death glare.

“If she shows up with even one hair out of place, one smudge of lipstick on either of you, I will murder you myself. Do you hear me?” It should have been funny, but both of them swallowed, nodding, worried she might follow through on her threat. “Good,” she said, her stare still hard. “See you there.”

The door shut and Killian turned to her as the car pulled away. He smiled at her, reaching into his jacket pocket. “I got you something,” he said. Emma cocked her head to see what it might be. He pulled out a little paper bag, the waxy kind. It had been folded at the end to keep it sealed. He handed it to her and Emma opened it, the smell hitting her first before she saw what was inside and her mouth watered.

“I love you,” she said and he laughed. He’d brought her a freaking bear claw. She took a bite, making sure not to spill any on her dress and chewed gratefully. She loved that he knew she’d be starving, that he’d thought to stop at a bakery somewhere to pick this up. She loved when he did this kind of thing, the little gestures to show he cared.

She slid across the seat, tucking herself under his arm and leaning against him as she munched on her snack, even offering him a bite at one point - that was how thankful she was. She liked these moments, the quiet ones. Sure, they were on their way to a huge, worldwide event, but for right now it was just the two of them.

It was rare now that they had the chance to just sit and cuddle and feel normal. Their lives had become so hectic, but through it all, Killian had been there, had kept her feeling safe, had kept her feeling human even when she thought the world would overwhelm her. She was happy. Despite the madness of her new life, she was happier than she’d ever been. Her family had grown, she had a man she loved and who loved her in a way she hadn’t believed she’d ever deserve. She lay her head back on his shoulder, looking at him and wondering how she’d gotten so lucky.

“What, Love?” he asked, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Emma only smiled, reaching up with her non-bearclaw-occupied hand and cupping the back of his neck, pulling his lips down over her own. She didn’t know why it had taken her so long to let him in, but as he slanted his lips over hers, bearclaw forgotten, she was damn happy that he’d waited, happy that she’d seen the light before she let him slip through her fingers. She pulled him closer, holding on tighter. She didn’t plan on ever letting go.

Belle took one look at them when they stepped out of the limo and joined their friends on the carpet. Her eyes panned over the two of them before rolling skyward, a heavy sigh leaving her.

“Seriously?”

#of cars and bars #captain swan #cs fanfic #captain swan fanfic #cs fanfiction #cs smut #captain swan smut #cs au #captain swan au #cs angst #captain swan angst #thank you everyone!

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himitsu-luna · 4 years

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💗 Personality ship - @vines-intertwined 💗

Hello!!! Here is your personality ship!!! Oh my God, I hope my writing is good enough xD Really hope you like it! Thanks for requesting!!

*Personality ships are CLOSED

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In BTS, I ship you with...Suga

1) What he loves about you: he loves How similar you two are in a lot of aspects/ How cute you are/ How you can understand him so well/ How It feels like you were made for him/ How loyal you are/ How authentic is your style/ How you support him/ How kind you are/ How you are his soft spot

2) What you love about him: you love How he is always showing you different sides of him everyday/ How lovely he is/ How intelligent he is/ How he is always protecting you/ How you feel safe with him/ How he can understand you just by looking at you/ How cute and adorable he can be

3) How you met: You were waiting for this BTS concert for months, and finally the day had come. You arrived to the place really early, got the best spot you could ever imagine, and were all excited just waiting for the show to begin. But someone started to feel sick beside you. The weather was pretty hot that day, and the poor girl was almost fainting. You quickly helped her, called the security guard, and you were taken to a calmer place, so she could recover. Suga was getting ready for the concert, and decided to go backstage to get some fresh air. He got to the place you were, and overheard you talking to the sick girl: "Don't worry, I'm going to stay here with you until you feel better, ok?", you said. The girl was almost crying : "I'm so sorry! I know you're going to lose some nice spot because of me! You don't even know me! I'm so greatful, but I'm so Sorry too!". You were indeed sad, but there was nothing you could do. "That's ok! Don't apologize! Better opportunities will come, eventually." You got shocked when you saw Suga coming to you He and gave you and the girl something. It was a free pass to the dressing room. Suga said, looking in your eyes: "Come to meet us after the concert! Better opportunities really come for the ones who deserve them."

4) How he confessed: You lived by yourself for a while, and you wanted to visit your family on Christmas. But your plans went down the drain when your boss called you asking you to hand him earlier an article you were writing. It was Christmas eve already, and Suga, your best friend, called you: "Hi! How are you? Are you with your family?". "Ahh, I couldn't go. Work issues, you know. I'll visit them later. And you? You were going to spend this time with your family too, right?", you said. Suga, instead of answering your question, just asked you another: "Are you at your place right now?" . "Yes. I'm spending Christmas eve here." "Just wait.", Suga said, and turned off the phone. You were extremely confused. What did he mean? You didn't think about that anymore, until, two hours later, you heard someone knocking on your door. It was Suga. You said surprised : "Suga! What are you doing here? You should be with your family now!". "Well, I... I was just passing by... actually...I just wanted to give you a gift, and give myself a gift too. Here, Merry Christmas!" , he aswered, while handing you a big box. You were really happy and touched. "Thank you so much!! You didn't really need to!!! But what you got for yourself?" you asked him, while opening your gift. "My gift... is being able to spend Christmas with the person I love the most.", He said with his cute smile, looking at you with lovely eyes.

5) First gift he gave you: the coolest coat you've ever seen

6) Favorite couple activity: staying home and watching Netflix together

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In Exo, I ship you with...Sehun

1) What he loves about you: he loves How hardworking you are/ How you are his partner for life/ How you talented you are/ How affectionate you are/ How you fit perfectly in his arms/ How you dress up so well/ How you bring him peace/ How he can always count on you/ How wise you are

2) What you love about him: you love How cute he is/ How cool he is/ How playful he is/ How he is always interested in everything related to you/ How he cares about you and always prays for you before sleeping/ How he is your best friend/ How he comes to you all happy like a puppy

3) How you met: You were a really famous writer, known throughout the country, and even internationally. You received a really peculiar request from a tv Channel: they were going to produce a new drama based in the life of a writer, and they wanted you to show a little of your daily life to the main actor, so he could incorporate that into his acting, and everything would come out more authentic. You thought it would be interesting, ao you accepted the invitation. Sehun was excited with his first main role in a drama. You could see how he was really into learning everything from you when you met. You explained him all you could: how your job worked, how you got inspiration, How sometimes you struggled. You were surprised by, despite of his cold face and cool style, how innocent and bubbly he actually was. At the end of the day, Sehun thanked you and promised: " I will write you something. That's my homework! Let's keep in touch! I'll be the second greatest writer of this country!"

4) How he confessed: Sehun and you were taking a walk and you saw a tarot place. You two were really curious about it and decided to get a tarot reading. You got a lot of insights about your carreer and life in general, but Sehun was specially interested in his love life. The woman reading the cards said to him: "Well, I see it's hard for you to understand your own feelings towards someone, and you can get confused. You don't know if you love someone or if you just admire them and see them just as a friend. But I'll tell you something: you've always knew. If you clear your mind and go back to the first time you met, you'll see you've always knew. And you can surely take the first step, because deep inside you know the feelings are mutual." Sehun and you left the place with a really big impression. Sehun was with a large smile on his face. "Sehun, you look really happy right now!", you said, laughing. He answered, in euphoria: "Of course! You heard what she said? Now I can tell you this with no fear: I love you, I really do. And I know you love me too!"

5) First gift he gave you: couple key chains (a kitten for you, a dog for him)

6) Favorite couple activity: travel the world together

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#kpop #kpop ships #personality ships #exo #sehun #bts #suga #submission

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paradise-of-guilty-pleasures · 4 years

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Shattered Reflections {2}

[Helsa RP- Fanfic]

Fandom: Frozen

Genre: Post-Frozen/ Canon Divergence

- Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Romance

Pairing(s): Hans/Elsa, Kristoff/Anna

Prince Hans is a mirror at heart, but wishes to shatter his reflections and correct his past mistakes. He returns to Arendelle, willingly surrendering himself to Queen Elsa’s judgement. Uncovering truths, unforeseen circumstances and a bit of je ne sais quoi, bring the Ice Queen and the Mirror Prince together in a way neither of them would have imagined.

A/N:

(( This is a collaborative RP Fic written by lovely fellow Helsa shipper FOW and myself. We RP for fun and just wanted wanted to share this story with fellow shippers, especially all my lovely shipper buddies over in the Helsa Discord Server. Long live the Province of Helsa! Thank you, Beta Reader Friends, your help is much appreciated. Hope you enjoy~ ))

P.S: ((This is the shortest chapter so far, I have a few more chapters ready to post, but I don't want to spam, posting them all at once, so I'll try post one chapter daily or every other day until the story is up to date.)) Previous Chapter: Chapter 1. Double Jeopardy

Chapter 2. Burn After Reading

Hans accepted the journal and his return to the dungeons without complaint, always polite. He was right: He never made a sound when he walked. He moved as silent as a shadow, but for the clink of his chains, which even then were quiet.

Given enough pen and ink, he proved to be a voracious writer. It helped that he had nothing better to do with his time, but he certainly took more time in getting his words down. He had to choose them carefully. He knew they could be used against him. For the moment, he wanted to stick to uninteresting topics. Just to test the waters. Yet, in spite of himself, his thoughts kept turning to his situation.

He never gave complaints. He rested without concern, and waited to see who would come for his letters.

Anna had NOT taken the news of the the 13th Prince's return to Adrendelle well, and far less knowing he was to be staying in the kingdom, even if he was to remain in the dungeon. Anna wished to go pay him a visit in the dungeon, just to punch him in the face again, but was prohibited from doing so. She was relieved that Elsa was not wasn't planning to contact the Prince either (at least outside the required daily journals to her).

Anna asked her sister why she even allowed the Prince to return to their kingdom, but even Elsa didn't know the answer to that herself.

Hans seemed to remain entirely neutral in the presence of the messenger. He insisted on folding over his journal pages and putting a wax seal on them (or rather, a splot of wax from the candle he wrote by, with 'XIII' scratched into it) to send to Elsa.

Whether the seal remained intact or not, he supposed he had no control. Perhaps it was better if he didn't know.

'Please burn after reading.'

'It's much different, writing a journal or letter that you know someone will read. Every word weighed like ounces of gold and scale often checked for accuracy. When one flake can tip the balances of someone else's opinion.'

'That is the way by which I lived in the Isles. Words spoken have echoes through later conversations, everything comes back as a scathing remark, or nitpick. Some days the picks go so deep or come from so long ago, one questions if they had any merit at all, or if they are going mad. I much prefer the dungeons. Would you believe, they echo less in Arendelle.'

'I said I was a prince 'in name alone', in truth all that means is that I have access to the castle grounds. I have found that the castle dungeons and the castle rooms are equally grim, and each echo their secrets to all in sundry. Neither prisoners nor princes are allowed their secrets, apparently. My father and brother are both ill, and have been for many years. My family didn't want to cut me off from visiting them, even if I am a treasoner. At least, not after they decided not to hang me I suppose. That proposition was short-lived. They have seen too well that scene, and they have no desire to see it again.'

'How grim. The Isles has a grim sense of humor. Or maybe it's just my family. I should never know, I imagine. I would hope to be there when my father dies, great man as he is, but I can't expect that time of mourning to be respected. Better to have taken my chances here. But chances at what? I don't believe in any gods. I don't imagine there to be a soul for me to save. My own peace, perhaps, but that's selfish even for me. My own inner stupidity, perhaps.'

'A tolerable first entry, I suppose. Have a nice day, your Majesty. My sincerest apologies to Her Highness for being inflicted upon her vicinity again. The Princess is welcome to throw things. -Hans'

Hard to say of that last part was a joke. It was a meandering, but that was simply what one got, with a journal.

Elsa read over the letter multiple times. It was not what she had expected, but it had given her a glimpse into his life, even if it was minimal. She had asked him for his thoughts and feelings, though she got more of the former rather than the latter.

The journal entry felt so stiff, but she thought since it was the first one that someone was reading it was understandable.

She read his request at the top of the page 'Please burn after reading'. She contemplated if she would fulfill his request, she had a candle at the ready, but she could not bring herself to burn it. Not yet at least, instead she folded the letter back up and placed it in her desk drawer under lock and key.

The next was sent with the same 'seal' as the first.

'Please burn after reading'

'Good morning, or whensoever you should read.'

'It would almost be easier if these were letters to and from, but then I could not stop myself from afflicting some persona on you.'

'My mother is an actress, you see. A very good one, but that is all she is good at. Acting, and picking one apart like a carrion bird. I have memorized Macbeth, and say the cursed play's name without fear, knowing I am more cursed than it could hope to be. For every character, an act. "For all the world's a stage and its people merely players," writes the Bard. It must be nice to not have to pretend, to be content. To not have to pretend to be content.' The repetition was no typo, nothing was crossed out or uncertain there.

'And yet, it all feels real at the time. It always does, no matter if the decision is conscious. Broken mirrors are unlucky, and I am by trade unlucky. But there are some things I would never admit to feeling, and some things I simply feel I cannot.'

'I have often wondered how Her Highness feels so much all at once. The Princess seems so full of life. Never take her to the Isles, it would be a shame to drain that charming nature. I wish this could have been avoided so to never temper her enthusiasm with jaded realities. But alas, Reality is a bastard.'

'Wishing you well,

-Hans'

So the Queen was actress? That was something Elsa had not known. She had studied much of the Southern Isles after the coronation, but much like information on Arendelle during the closing of the Gates, there was not much it (at least regarding the Royals).

Now she knew where Hans got his acting skills from.

There was so much dejection in his words, that it almost made her feel sorrow herself.

She wondered if he really incapable of feeling or if was another charade of his. If Anna was truly right that he had a frozen heart.

Again as she did with the previous letter, instead of setting it ablaze, she set it in her drawer with the other under lock and key.

She had pondered whether to have made his punishment writing letters rather than journals, but decided against it. She really shouldn't be writing letters to him, no matter how curious she was to get questions answered. She chose journaling because it was more informal and open for him to write the thoughts and feelings she requested, since it seemed to have been the way avidly written in his confiscated journal.

Though she should have realized upon her request that he probably wouldn't be as open to her as he was to himself and there was no way of knowing if what he wrote was truly himself or just another persona he hid behind.

The next letter was a trifle less organized. Still, however, with its carved seal.

'Please burn after reading.'

'Good whenever, Your Majesty. Assuming you read these at all. That sounds rather like a greek punishment, writing letters to one who never reads them. Although, it sounds a bit like a religion, too, doesn't it? Ah well. Philosophy is the act of asking a thousand questions and debating about answers none will ever have.' What an opener.

'I had thought this story to be one I and my crew had made up in a collective fever, utter nonsense brought upon by unfamiliar waters and frayed nerves. Reflecting on Arendelle, however, I think perhaps it may have been entirely real.'

'Once upon a time, I and my crew met Sirens.'

'We were on the Conch Cat, my ship, as a captain some years ago, shortly before my admiralty. I have since kept the Conch Cat, though it now likely has a new captain, in light of my removal from the Navy. That stung worse than any sentence for treason, but I digress...'

' We had traveled some way through a storm somewhere in the Pacific, and that storm was hellacious. It threatened to rip the mast down even with the sails pulled up, but as we sailed on, soon it halted. As if someone had snuffed a candle, it had gone, replaced with a fog so thick that one could not see the forward bow from the stern. We could only drift slowly and pray that both fog and storm relented before we found somewhere to become a shipwreck, but the fog was, at least, peaceful. Some minutes into our silent crawl across the water, we began to hear ringing laughter and singing. We could all of us understand the language we heard, but the voices sounded foreign- indescribably so. They sang a familiar song, about a woman missing her sailor fiancée. '

'My heart is pierced by cupid,'

'I disdain all glittering gold,'

'There is nothing can console me'

'But my jolly sailor bold.'

'We looked into the water, and found there a woman, with lily-white skin and long waving hair under the water, graceful as any fish, and with a silvery tail of shimmering scales in our amber lamplight. It was bizarre and curious, so of course every man leant to see (and likely, a part of that being that she wore no scrap of cloth, but mine was a purely scientific curiosity, if you'll believe it).'

'There was more than one, but it was one with long raven hair that I could best see from my position. Every man listened to their singing, and each looking over the sides, before I alone realized what was happening.'

'I called to the men to get back to their posts, and barely managed to grab the helmsman and drag him back by his collar, before one of the sirens leapt up to try and grab him. He still has scratches on the side of his face (that he swears to others were from a jealous lover). I recall that one having ringlets of red-gold hair, though I caught only a glance as she tried to nab him. Men jumped back from the sides, some grabbing others, and returned to their posts. I, however, remained curious. Why had they not affected me so much as they had affected the men? Some men had to be tied to rails, why should I be different? So I ventured forward again with a lantern, foolish as I am.'

'Your heart is pierced by cupid'

'If a man may be so bold,'

'But I have nothing for you,'

'For mine is beating cold.'

'They did not care for this addition, and our Barrelman managed to pull me back this time.'

'I ordered my men to pull the sails down and speed through the fog, damn the consequences and the mast as well, so we did. Someone launched a canon, it sounded as if it hit rocks but we had seen none. We survived the sirens, fog and storm with shredded sails but an intact mast by only the grace of any god listening, and escaped. We all drank ourselves to sleep that night, and spoke of it as a fiction the next day.'

'I think perhaps, after all, it was no fiction. But I only tell the story to men of the sea, who are used to a little fabrication and strange stories. I never tell it as a fact, but it is. Who would believe? I'm glad to tell it as a truth to someone."

'My best to you, always; -Hans'

His writing was less elegant than it had been the day before, with perhaps some scratching-out and scribbling that was uncharacteristic of his writing. The handwriting seemed less tight and controlled, the writing less thought-through. The send-off seemed almost careless in both its words and its handwriting. There was a curious section near the header of seemingly aimless hatch marks, to no real purpose. He just seemed a little less controlled and rigid than before. And perhaps, his topic of choice was stranger than usual. Getting a thought out that he would seemingly never otherwise have shared.

Elsa tapped her pen against her desk. His opener doubting whether she even read his journals made her want to send him a note of reassurance of her readership, now she was debating whether that was the right course of action or not.

His sea story though different than his previous entries, had piqued her interest. The tale of Sirens only a myth to some, but to her it read so real, for she knows Trolls are real and even her own powers were something that would seem like fiction to someone that hadn't witnessed them with their own eyes. The possibility of more Magic out there made her wonder if there was someone out there who's a little bit like her in the great unknown. Yet the sirens weren't the only thing that caught her attention in this letter, his lyrics of the song stood out to her

'Your heart is pierced by cupid'

'If a man may be so bold,'

'But I have nothing for you,'

'For mine is beating cold.'

It was mention of a frozen heart yet again.

A blank piece of paper sitting in front of her as she continued tapping her pen.

How would she even address him, even in a simple note? She kept hovering her pen over the paper ready to start writing, but pulling away as her mind went blank yet again.

Maybe she need not tell him, but show him that she read his words. Without much of a second thought at the center of the page she wrote:

' I believe.'

Short and simple, but to the point. She folded the paper, like he did his and now it was time to seal. She placed the wax, but the Arendelle seal didn't seem right. She poured more wax and this time with her magic made a snowflake to replace it.

The note was done, now it was whether or not she would choose to send it.

She cleaned off her desk, placing his recent letter with the rest under lock and key. The note she just wrote in her hands, she played with the edges as she looked at her snowflake insignia. She was lost in her thoughts, when a knock at the door startled her.

"Your Majesty," The head guard seemed uncertain at first. "Your prisoner seems... off, today. He hasn't expressed any change in particular, he just seems off in a way I can't place, my instincts say something is wrong. Do you have any thoughts or direction? He also insists that he would like to wash his own clothes, but I consider that too dangerous, and frightfully curious for a previous prince." The head guard frowned. He had been doing his job for some years, but something about all this felt wrong, and he couldn't quite say how. Something beyond the laundry.

Elsa sighed. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention Captain."

She had noticed a change in Hans in the way he had written the journal, but had not thought much of it, but now that the captain voiced his concern there was no ignoring that there was something definitely off with Hans today.

"I think I have to go see him myself, in order to decide a proper course of action." It was something she had not planned on doing, but she felt she had no choice now, she had allowed Hans to return so he was her responsibility.

She still had her note in hand as she stood up from her desk and walked towards the Captain.

The guard nodded. "Excellent plan, your Majesty. I will be there to maintain your safety." The Captain assured. That was what it always was, his job. But he took pride in it.

#Helsa #Iceburns #Hans x Elsa #Frozen #frozen fanfiction #Shattered Reflections

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the-magic-lava-lamp · 5 years

Text

The Great Suburban Showdown

Summary: What is Padmé supposed to do when her husband of 15 years leaves her because he’s in love with a man? And not just a man, a close friend.

(For the purpose of this story, Obi-Wan & Padmé are the same age, 42. Anakin is 38. And the twins are 15.)

Ships: Obikin, Skysolo

Word Count: 3,225

Chapter: 5 - Looking for Space.

A small glass of perfume sat on a dresser. It was the small and delicate glass with a large daisy stopper blocking any leakage.

It sat there, absolutely still, as a pair of hands quickly picked and pulled from the array of products sat around it. But with that speed came clumsiness and the hands just darted to fast on the pull-back of some lipstick and down came the bottle. Knocking it off the counter and revealing the ring of dust that had been living underneath it.

Padmé paused for a moment before peeking over the lip of the dresser to find the tiny bottle. The rounded broken piece was rolling just the slightest bit while the rest of the tiny shards bathed in the small puddle of the scent leaking out.

Anakin had given that perfume to as a small Mother’s Day gift when the twins were around nine. Kneeling down, she intended to start cleaning the mess up but she hesitated. The tip of her finger laid frozen in the burgundy puddle as a wave of emotion fell upon her. She’d been holding back on truly coming to terms with what her mind and body ached for. But looking at the old shattered gift on her hardwood floor...the gate was opened without her permission.

A flood of tears finally broke past her eyes and rolled down her cheeks, the heat from her previous restrain could almost burn her skin. In an instant she was near hysterical. Her breathing was rapid and short as it became harder for her to push-back the devastation. More then anything in her life she wanted to call Anakin...she wanted him with her. But at the same time she was desperate to shove him away entirely.

The palm of her hand curled over her mouth in an attempt to block some of the sound from breaching the thin walls of their home. She did not want the twins to her any bit of this breakdown, they didn’t need to see their mother so...sad. It would just be too hard for them and they didn’t need anymore stress so she just needed to be strong, she was usually extremely good at that. It was enough that she’d broken down when Anakin had given them the news. There’d be nothing more now.

A deep breath or two and she was off the floor and on her way to collect the dust-pan and broom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rain was coming down hard and banging against the bedroom window with loud pops. But it was nothing compared to the storm in Leia’s eyes. Luke felt a sense of dread as he crossed the white carpet towards the chest against the wall. The room was dead silent as he sat and swung his bare-feet just a few inches above the soft floor, teasing static-shocks tickled his skin.

Part of him was glad that he could finally sit and talk with his sister about everything but another part was just hoping for it to be over quickly. Deep down he knew they just weren’t on the same wavelength for the first time in their lives and talking about it would just bring that all to light.

Leia turned in her chair, arm resting on the back as a cool stormy breeze came in from her open window. “So what have you been thinking?”

That was a let-down. He’d been hoping for Leia to go into her own troubles first so that he’d have time to think about what he wanted to say. He swiped his finger across the worry lines in his forehead and thought about his laughing fit with Han. “I’ve been...-You know, I’ve been wondering how Dad’s been doing.” He couldn’t bare to look up to see Leia’s reaction.

“I don’t know how you always manage to do that.” She whispered and played with some loose thread on her sleeve.

“What?” Luke blinked as his sister straightened her back and sighed.

“Make me feel like such a bad person.” She shook her head and turned away for a moment or two, looking out her window.

Luke felt a flash of guilt that wanted to turn itself into anger just for the sake of being defensive but he quickly shut that down before it even had the chance to start. “Why do you say that?”

“You just have this way of....-” She paused and it was easy to tell she was having more than just a difficult time explaining her thoughts (the kind of thoughts that Luke expected she’d been holding back for years). “You’re so level-headed. I just can’t be that. Right now, I'm so mad at dad that I-” she stopped again and looked down to collect herself. She was a bit like their mother in that way, never wanting to let her guard down in-front of her family.

“I don’t want to see him...like at all.” She shrugged. Luke nodded because he’d expected that from her. He knew her too well not to. “I feel like there’s nothing he could say to me right now that would make me want to...and I feel really bad about that but at the same time-” She swallowed. “I’m just so mad at him.”

“That’s a normal reaction, Leia. I know we definitely aren’t experts on a situation like this but that much I can say for sure.” Luke’s eyes were soft and wide and it only served to piss his sister off even more...but at herself rather than her brother.

“God, Luke you’re so calm about all of this. I feel like-...like I could explode from how stressed and angry I am.” She stood and started pacing her floor. “I’m too much like dad. I hate that.”

That comment stung Luke a little. The way she said it with such resentment well, it hurt him just the same way it would hurt their father to hear. “That can be a good thing, Leia.” He spoke softly with an earnest voice. Leia stopped pacing for a second to look at him.

“Maybe it can be. But right now, I don’t feel like it is.” She shrugged and Luke tried to keep the hurt from showing on his face. “It probably doesn’t help that my relationship with dad has already been...rocky lately.” She sat back down.

That was true and it was something that had been brewing through the family for some time now. The two of them could easily fall into fights and it was sometimes difficult for Luke or his mother to understand. But it wasn’t hard to tell that it was a little painful for the two of them. It just came down to the fact that his sister and his father were so similar that it caused them to butt heads constantly. They were both quite impulsive and...angry.

Luke could almost hear those past shouts in his head again from that specific summer where they just couldn’t get on the same page. The relief off school release and joy from fresh green grass was nearly ruined by the fights.

“You’ve always been more sympathetic to dad so I can see why this is bothering you.” Leia frowned.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He narrowed his eyes slightly.

“Just that...you’re so close to dad. The two of you get each other. I feel like I never had that with him.” She picked once more at a loose thread and Luke felt something drop in his stomach. It felt like more of his life was crumbling to pieces, more problems that he didn’t even know existed were coming to light. Sure, he knew they fought but he never know just how much it hurt his sister.

“Leia-”

“Never mind. I just wanted to see how you were feeling.” Her hand waved in the air in an attempt to dismiss him and Luke felt defeated. He rubbed behind his ear and thought it best to just leave Leia to herself. But as he stood he couldn’t help but feel as if he was abandoning her. “How have you really been feeling?” she added quickly before Luke could see himself out.

‘Overwhelmed’ was on his mind and the tip of his tongue but he restrained himself. He wished to unload much of his stress to her, just to get it off his chest. Maybe even tell her what he’d yet to tell anyone in his family but he didn’t want to give her anything more to stress over so he held back. “Drained but...it’ll get better soon.” He nodded and Leia seemed dissatisfied with that answer but accepted it nonetheless.

“I’ve also been meaning to ask you something else!” Leia suddenly looked highly amused and it was a refreshing change so Luke welcomed whatever tease was coming his way. He leaned against her wall, arms crossed. “That party we went to...” She trailed off with a smile and Luke was suddenly very, very nervous. “You disappeared for a bit and the next day, before everything went down, you were very happy.” She looked mischievous and though he knew she was way too perceptive to miss such a detail, he had hoped she’d forgotten amidst the drama.

“Oh yeah, I was talking to Wedge. He surprisingly had the time to tease me about showing up to an actual party.” He shrugged and Leia looked at him with her eyebrows raised in the air but she quickly gave it up. But he knew that she was onto him.

“Alright...well I’ll see ya later, buddy.” She smiled, half-hearted at best and Luke made his way out of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anakin was especially good at making himself look smaller. Sometimes, when Obi-Wan looked at him it was hard not to just take the man into his arms. When Anakin was upset, he felt it deep within himself just the same. One of the worst parts of this whole mess was having to witness such emotions from the man he loved.

Anakin was leaning with his back against the couch to better feel the warmth from the sun-spot coming through Obi-Wan’s window and it was a breathtaking image. Golden sun-rays threaded through his hair and glazed his entire body and there was a peace there that was soothing. As he admired all that it was and all that he would miss, it occurred to him that maybe the man needed to actually hear some of that love that was on his mind.

“Anakin?”

Long brown hair flicked behind him as the man craned his neck to get a look at Obi-Wan. He smiled with a tenderness that hadn’t been around in a few weeks. In fact; the last time he recalled seeing that look was when Anakin had found Obi-Wan’s old Barry Manilow greatest hits record just a week before everything went down. He’d put it on with the intention to tease but instead found something lovely in the way ‘Can’t Smile Without You’ had changed the mood, mostly Obi-Wan’s. Anakin couldn’t quite stop teasing him and his laughter had just become uncontrollable. It felt like ages since he’d last heard the man laugh like that or felt the delightful vibrations of it when they kissed. There was a hidden red wine stain on his carpet that always reminded him of that evening.

He felt the weight of their situation fall upon his shoulders again. But for once it was refreshing to greet it because he knew Anakin was feeling it too and it would only draw them closer together in this moment of self-pity.

“You have something to say, old man?” He shuffled upwards to plop right down on the cushion next to his partner and smirked. Obi-Wan just melted.

“I can never tell if you’re brooding or just day-dreaming...” He waved his hand out slightly towards the air of where Anakin had been sitting. “The facial expression is always the same for both.”

“You always look bored.” He retorted and Obi-Wan scoffed with offense. “Unless, of course, you’re thinking about me. How could I miss the way your eyebrow twitches whenever your thoughts turn...dirty.” He sighed with clear pleasure and dramatics. He got a smack in the arm for that.

After a moment of laughter, they fizzled into silence. Comments like that couldn’t truly be pulled off anymore. After having to face the consequences of what their relationship truly was...it just felt gross.

“How are you feeling, dear one?”

“I think we’ve been through this before, Obi-Wan.” He shut that question down with amazing speed. “I’d rather not have our relationship just become one big therapy session, you know?” His eyes narrowed with the white-hot anger that was so purely Anakin.

Complete silence was never complimentary to his apartment, it made it seem a lot smaller and annoying. But maybe it was actually that it wasn’t complementary to them. A big part of their relationship was the way they could talk to each other. Hours upon hours spent in conversation and not that boring chit-chat kind. No. It always meant something. Even their arguments were long and drawn out with no breaks for air. That was just how they clicked.

It’s when things got silent...that’s when it was bad. They were mad or upset enough that they didn’t dare want to open their mouths and risk saying something they’d regret-

“I don’t think my relationship with Padmé is the only relationship that I ruined.” Anakin’s shoulders rolled back from letting go of such a heavy sentiment. He usually did break their silences.

There was intense anger instantly but even Obi-Wan had to admit...there was truth to it. He opened his mouth to reply-maybe argue-but Anakin was already doing something he was really good at. Flying off before he had to deal with the consequences.

The door slammed shut behind him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Padmé was trying to enjoy the beautiful sunny Sunday before the dread of work tomorrow and he dishes were keeping her delightfully busy. At times like this, she almost felt like nothing had happened and she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

But most of her initial anger had subsided. She just wasn’t the type of person to hold onto anger. Level-headed, that’s what her mother called her ever since she was a young girl and it was something that just came naturally to her.

She ran her fingers through her hair and felt that sinking depression in her chest. The kind that only lasts a second or two before you flash back...feeling as if you might’ve just made it up. A plate dropped gently back into the sink and her eyes landed on the drain. She stared down into it with an intensity that would seem odd if her mind wasn’t somewhere else entirely.

“Mom?”

“Leia!” The smiled that took over her face was beautiful and full of relief. Though she’d nearly jumped into the air from shock. She giggled lightly after her minor scare and Leia fell into a laugh too.

“I just wanted to ask if you wanted to get some breakfast?” Her daughter smiled with so much love, eyes that mirrored her fathers in a lot of ways. Maybe not in color but...so much more.

“I would love to. Why don’t you go ask your brother if he’d like to come and I’ll finish up here?” She gestured to the plates and Leia nodded, taking off up the stairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Luke darted down the stairs when he heard the bell ring without really thinking it through. His mother and Leia had gone off for a breakfast which he decided against, just to give Leia some time with her alone. And he was left to think himself to death.

He swung the door open and had to hold back an actual gasp. “Han!” He pulled his sweatshirt down a little instinctively as the man looked him up and down. “What are you doing here? I told you that I didn’t want you to meet anyone yet.”

Han laughed. “I know. But is it that weird for you to just have a friend over-? Are you wearing pants?” He dragged his eyes down Luke’s exposed legs and the man rolled his eyes but shifted nervously anyway.

“Yes. I’m wearing pants...shorts, this is just long...-anyway” Luke waved his hands about after pulling on his sweatshirt once more and tried to ignore Han’s chuckles. “Why are you here?”

Han shrugged, standing back a little and smirked. “Dunno. Was driving around and I thought you might wanna do something. You said it was boring around here and hey, I can make anything exciting.” He was attempting to look passive about it but Luke could read people very well. Han’s eyebrow twitched nervously.

“I think you mean annoying.”

The way Luke huffed playfully and popped his leg out a touch made Han’s heart stop for a second but he was an expert at playing these things off- “So um, should I be tellin’ your family that I’m just your really attractive friend or...?” He looked over Luke’s shoulder to see if he could spot the guy’s sister.

“You’re lucky no ones home-”

“Is that why you’re walking around without any pants on?” Han asked as he glanced in every direction of the home when Luke finally allowed him inside.

Luke whipped around and smacked his arm. “Shut-up, will you?” He restrained his giggle and narrowed his eyes but Han was enjoying it. He turned, maybe to smack him again, but he took a shy turn. As soon as they made eye contact Luke felt his cheeks turn rosy and he looked down. He couldn’t see Han’s face but the man was helplessly admiring him.

Han coughed into his hand. “So you wanna do something or what?”

Luke tilted his head as an idea popped into his head. “You mind doing me a big favor?”

“I’m not too crazy about favors, kid.” He crossed his arms, leaning back on the railing of the staircase.

Luke titled his chin down, smirking at his floor and shrugged. He paired that with a soft sigh before looking up and sadly batting his eye-lashes. “Oh come on, just this one...for me?” He reached out and took Han’s hand, patting it between his own while he bounced a little on his feet.

‘I’m really in for it with this kid, aren’t I?’ Han quietly thought to himself as he rolled his eyes and put on a passive face. “Alright fine.”

Luke grinned. “That was quick. Was nearly ready to start fake crying.” He teased and Han’s eyes widened.

“Don’t tell me you can cry on the spot, kid...?” He wagged his finger and the blonde smirked, nodding his head.

“Oh yeah I can. One of my many talents.” He laughed, not thinking much of it at all.

But Han was silently hoping he’d never actually perform that talent. He was already proving to be kind of weak when it came to Luke and if there was crying involved...‘Shit. He really was in for it.’ “Just spit it out before I change my mind, will ya?”

“I want to go see my dad and I need you to drive me there.”

#is this chapter bad??#let me know your thoughts #pleaseeeeee #Skysolo #obikin #star wars #Star Wars Trilogy #star wars prequels #Anakin Skywalker #Obi-Wan Kenobi #Padme Amidala #leia organa #Luke Skywalker #Han Solo #Star Wars fanfic #my fanfiction #title is a john denver song!!

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burntheupholstery · 5 years

Note

Omg I’m a year late to the party, but I just stumbled upon your old Jiang Cheng posts by chance. Does he really wind up forever alone by the end of the novel, never to reconcile with WWX again?? No post-ending extras or anything to amend it? I started out with the donghua last year and came out of it mostly shipping JC with happiness, now I only recently got into the audio drama and novel from recent media hype. If this is true, I’m going to be so freaking crushed. Tbh, I care more about (1/2)

seeing a XianCheng reconciliation, or just JC happy or at least at peace -period-, than the WangXian gay antics we were denied in the donghua. I need my YMSJ bros if nothing else, gdi. Or just my fave JC to not be miserable again ;;; (2/2)

Ohh man. AFAIK, that’s his fate, yes.

See— When I was super into MDZS (I’ll follow through with the donghua, don’t worry about that) I read a whole bunch of Jiang Chen fics in one go and read loads of meta and it tired me out so quickly because his story is just so tragic? You can follow my current interest from my posts, and I usually gravitate towards the audience second-favorites. And most of them turn out to be emotionally gut-wrenching in that— that rarepair way?? like the hole in your chest that’s just been punched out by a good piece of angst— well I LIVE for that shit but Jiang Cheng’s stuff just got to me.

SO yes if you want to see a good Jiang Cheng/happiness story you’re gonna have to write it yourself.

I’m also very happy with the SangCheng content I see popping up everywhere due to the donghua, but what I ship is platonic and/or romantic YMSJ and … there’s not a lot of that in the english-speaking fandom. Getting back into the chinese one is intellectually draining so… I’ve let it slide? So hey, if you want to chat about happiness/JC hit up my DMs.

(Not to mention I always headcanoned JC has this Dashing Beauty with long hair — don’t tell me it won’t go well with that whip and all that purple — and the donghua design [WHILE STILL VERY. HOT.] disappointed me a little soooooo)

#mdzs #snowy-sims #jiang cheng #ramble shamble

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previousloversandmuses · 5 years

Text

The Intern - Part II

PART I

ABOUT: Y/N, a young, intern who gets quite the opportunity.

WORDS: 1200

WARNINGS: Sexual tension, a gross old professor who makes the reader uncomfy!

A/N: I hope you guys like this new series! If you have any ideas for it, please, fill free to ask! Also, sorry for it being so short. Next part will be up tomorrow. Everyone is welcome and encouraged to leave me feedback and to ask questions. I want to hear your input.

A few days had passed, and let me just say, I definitely got settled in. The boys had been hammering out songs left and right. Everyone seemed to be having ideas for everything, hell I even gave my input. The only person who couldn’t think of anything was Roger.

He would sit on the couch in the studio sulking or pouting like a little girl, snapping at people left and right. He laid down his drum tracks of course and the occasional harmony, but when it came to lyrics, he was at a complete loss.

“This is bollocks!” Roger screams, kicking the door on his way out of the studio.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to think of something,” I add.

He sighs and sinks down on the wall of the studio, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

“What if I don’t?” He asks, looking a little defeated.

I bit my tongue for a moment, trying to figure out what to say. Of course, he would, but he’s going through writer's block, I just don't want to worry him.

“But you will,” I state, sitting down next to him, pulling the cigarette from his lips and taking a drag. “There really is nothing to worry about Rog, you’ll get it! You just have to wait for the inspiration to come.”

He sighed again, pulling another cigarette from his pack.

“You can keep that one,” He added, winking.

I took a deep breath, thinking about the past week.

The Professor’s advances had grown tiring, and it had only been just a few days. He’d constantly touch me, whether it be placing his hands at my hips, or coming up behind me as I was bent over. My level of comfort was sliding downhill quick.

“Y/L/N,” You heard, “I need to borrow you for a moment.”

You didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. So, sighing again, you dropped your cigarette to the ground and smashed it out with the heel of your boot.

“Coming,” You huffed, walking inside.

“What, no goodbye?” Roger teased, smiling up at you.

You stared back at him, a smile creeping onto your face as well.

“Y/L/N, I haven’t got all day!”

And with that you ran inside, leaving Roger alone with his cigarette.

You were conjuring up quite the sweat as you leaned against the record paneling, a cigarette hanging down between your fingers.

“How was that?” Brian questioned, standing behind the mic in the booth.

You looked up at Freddie, he has his fingers on his chin in thought.

“Well It’s your track darling, you tell me how it was.”

You smiled and leaned into the microphone to speak.

“You want me to play it back?” You asked.

Brian smiled and nodded his head, pulling a chair over for him to sit on.

And so you pressed play and then came Brain's vocals singing;

“In the year of '39 assembled here the volunteers

In the days when lands were few

Here the ship sailed out into the blue and sunny morn

The sweetest sight ever seen”

You cut it and looked over to him, he looked as if he was deep in thought as well.

“How was that?” You asked him, cocking up an eyebrow.

“Maybe I should stick to playing guitar?” He winked, pushing his chair away from him.

Brian began walking out of the studio.

“Don’t you want to hear the rest?” You pondered, watching him untangle himself from the numerous amounts of wires which were wrapped around him.

“Not really, if I’m being honest,” he laughed. “Where’s Roger?”

You turned around to look for him, only to see him slumped on the couch, sound asleep.

“Think he’s taking a beauty nap,” You answered. “Want me to wake him?”

“Please,” Brian replied, finally making his way out of the booth.

You looked over at Roger, he truly was taking a beauty nap. He looked so soft and so much less like Roger as he slept. He looked peaceful and unstressed. He also wasn’t talking which was a plus for you.

You were so distracted by him you almost missed Freddie dumping a glass of water on him.

“Fuck,” Roger spat, shooting up from the couch. “What the fuck, Fred?”

Everyone in the room burst into a cackling mess as we watched Roger stumble up and begin to shake out his hair like a wet dog.

“Well drama queen,” Brian giggled, “time to get this show on the road.”

“Is he singing now?” Freddie asked, throwing a towel at Roger.

“Seems he is,” Said Brian, flopping down to where Roger sat before.

Roger looked at Brian with furrowed brows, throwing his towel across the room.

“Since when?” Roger asked, leaning next to you on the paneling.

“Since now, don’t worry, I’ll guide you through it.”

Freddie laughed as Roger rolled his eyes, pushing himself off the panel and into the studio.

“It seems we're being blessed with Mr. Taylor’s angelic falsetto.” Freddie sings, winking at you.

“Angelic falsetto,” You quipped. “Since when?”

“Since forever.” Deaky finished, now taking a seat next to Brian.

And so you sat in awe watching Roger belt the most beautiful sounds you’ve ever heard come from a living creature. Your eyes seemed to paint his face, looking at every vein and every crinkle, admiring him from behind a sheet of glass. So, after what felt like hours, he finished ;).

He was covered in a sheen of sweat when he walked out of the booth, glistening like an angel dipped in honey, that now you realized, you really wanted to lick off. And at that moment, you thought about just how badly you wanted to make sweet, sweet love to this beautiful man.

Walking with the boys out of the studio, you had almost forgotten your Professor had left to run errands. It was nice without him there, no pressure, and no discomfort.

You looked out at the sky and started to stretch, you hadn’t stood up in a while and Lord knows, after what you just saw, stretching is something you desperately needed.

“So,” Roger started, “Who wants some food.”

“Me,” You almost yelled, startling the boys.

“Christ, someone’s hungry,” Deaky said, poking your stomach as he passed you and into the house.

The other boys followed suit, along with Roger who looked physically drained.

You turned the opposite way though, pulling your car keys from your pocket and walking towards your car.

“Oi,” Roger yelled from the door. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Out!” You replied.

“Out?” He asked. “Out where?”

“I drove past a pub on the way here and I’m just dying for some chips!” You scream back, turning the corner.

As you were opening the door to your car you heard footsteps pounding against the graveled drive. Turning around, the boys stood there catching their breath as they walked towards you.

“We're coming too,” Said Brian, hopping into the passenger's seat. “Nice car by the way.”

“Thanks,” You smiled, sliding into the driver's seat.

“Yeah,” Roger said, just above a whisper. “A really nice car.”

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