#like I do agree to an extent with both of them; but I don't think either one is going about it in a way that will work | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

simplylupin · 4 days

Text

Vertigo and Eddie Diaz

because the connection has been made between eddie's current arc and hitchcock's vertigo, i thought i'd give my two cents on the topic as a mediocre film student whose had to study vertigo for two years of her life

so here's a basic (very over-simplified) summary of vertigo for those who are unfamiliar

The protagonist, Scottie, is a policeman who took a break/was discharged/retired because he couldn't save a fellow police officer from falling off a building to his death

Because of this he suffers from vertigo and/or fear of heights

He's hired by his old friend Gavin to follow Gavin's wife, Madeline, for fear that she's been possessed by someone called Carlotta Valdez

He does so, and slowly falls in love with Madeline - and her him

We also learn that Scottie's best friend Midge is in love with him, but he's too obsessed with Madeline to notice Midge

Him and Madeline go to a church bell tower where Madeline seemingly offs herself by jumping off

Some time later, Scottie goes to Madeline's old hotel room, and finds a woman called Judy who looks exactly like Madeline

She agrees to go on a date with him

We, the audience, find out that Judy actually is Madeline (and vise versa). She was hired by Gavin to pretend to be Madeline.

Scottie grows more and more obsessed, forcing Judy to change her appearance to look like Madeline

He makes the connection that Madeline and Judy are the same person, and drives her to the bell tower

He forces her up the tower, over coming his fear of heights

Once at the top, they have a confrontation

A nun appears, scaring Judy and she once more falls to her death (really this time)

So, from what I've gathered, the loose connection between characters is:

Scottie = Eddie

Madeline = Shannon

Midge = Buck

Judy = Kim

The Nun = Marisol

Scottie's unable to save his fellow police officer. Eddie was unable to 'save' the people he pulled out the helicopter: "I pulled them out. But I didn't save them." Because of this he suffers from immense guilt and PTSD (as seen in his season 5 arc). He's unable to move on and this hinders him to a certain extent - just like Scottie.

After Shannon's death, he's thrown through the loop again, with the added bonus of him not having been able to save her too. Scottie's job was to save Madeline, and he failed at that, resulting in her 'death'.

Eddie is constantly trying to find a woman to fill that role of Shannon in his and Christopher's life; we see this with both Ana and now Marisol. He's looking for her in them. Scottie does the same - he visits the places he went with Madeline, he goes to her old room.

Eddie finds Kim, Scottie finds Judy.

For a little while, Judy helps Scottie get over and get closure on Madeline. She fills that empty space and allows him to move on. This is what I think Kim is going to do for Eddie.

She looks so much like Shannon but she simply isn't her. We know in later episodes that Buck is going to meet her and proclaim that she's "nothing like Shannon." There's a clear distinction there - Eddie is only seeing Shannon in her because he wants to, because he's still holding onto that idea. I think Kim is going to be the closing point of this ongoing search for Shannon's 'replacement'; someone who looks exactly like Shannon should be perfect, right? But when she too doesn't 'fill' that role that surely must spark some sort of realisation in Eddie, because if not her then who.

For Scottie, he feels betrayed by Judy. He brings her to the last place he saw Madeline, and ultimately, indirectly, causes her death. Obviously I don't believe Kim is actually going to die, but more the idea of her. She's the final chapter of him pursuing Shannon's ghost.

Midge is Scottie's best friend. They met in college and were engaged for a few weeks before breaking up. They spend a lot of time together, staying at each other's houses and going out. She helps Scottie through his vertigo and acrophobia, and tries to 'bring him back' in his grief. At one point, Midge paints her face onto a painting of Carlotta Valdez, showing that she's there and ready for Scottie's love, if he's willing to give it to her.

I believe, in this scenario, Buck takes on her role (for seemingly obvious reasons). Him and Eddie are best friends, they do so much together, he helps Eddie when he's struggling etc etc. Midge is the idea of the 'other woman', someone who is right in front of Scottie's eyes, someone whose always been there for him. However, Scottie is too obsessed and fixated on Madeline that he can't see this and continually brushes it away. You see where I'm going here...

Although Buck potentially doesn't even realize it himself, he has taken on Shannon's role in the Diaz family for years. Eddie already has the 'replacement' for Shannon that he's so desperately been searching for right in front of his eyes.

In Vertigo, Judy and Madeline are the same person, whereas Shannon and Kim are obviously not. However, the comparison still stands.

Scottie meets Judy and immedietely latches onto her because she looks so much like Madeline (duh) and he is so desperate for anything that'll keep Madeline's memory with him. He makes her undergo a series of phsyical changes (dyeing her hair, changing her wardrobe, her style etc etc) so that she appears more like Madeline - so he can get that closure and pretend.

Eddie clearly isn't going to do this to Kim. However, whatever way you spin it, he is projecting Shannon onto her. He saw her, and thought of Shannon, he pursued her because of that, he's doing all this because of Shannon. He is chasing that closure and that moment were he can be like 'Ah. I've finally found someone who can be Shannon for me and Chris.'

I doubt Kim is going to be around particularly long. As much as it sounds diminishing, she really is just a tool for Eddie to have this realization that nobody can replace Shannon, and that that's okay. He doesn't need to find Shannon 2.0.

Now, in Vertigo, when Scottie and Judy are arguing on the bell tower, a nun appears from the shadows and startles them - causing Judy to fall to her death. It's a very abrupt and out of nowhere.

The character of the nun, I think could represent either one of two things. Marisol, as we know, used to be a nun (i'm still not over this btw). That's a pretty straight-forward, clear cut comparison. The nun causes Judy to die, Marisol causes 'Shannon', and the idea of Shannon, to 'die'. This interpretation leans more heavily on Marisol and Eddie staying together, however, so I'm not sure.

The nun could also just represent religion as a whole, and Eddie's Catholic guilt particularly. Eddie tells Bobby that he only really married Shannon because he felt like he had to, he felt pressured into it because of his religious guilt. Despite this, "There was still a part of me that loved being married to her."

There's no doubt in my mind that Eddie loved Shannon. He did, they loved each other, and he still does love her - he always will. I do think that the choice of focussing on his marriage to her and how he "loved being married to her" is interesting though, he doesn't try to clarify that he was in love with her. This could just be because it's a given orrr

Whatever, not really the point.

The point is, the fact he's now "awakened" his Catholic guilt by finding out Marisol was a nun, must mean something for his upcoming arc. In Vertigo, the nun kills Judy. Here, his religious guilt 'kills' the idea of Shannon??

I'll definitely have more ideas about this later but this was my word vomit for now! Let me know what you think please.

(Also something I find funny is that the actress of Madeline/Judy is called Kim!)

#eddie diaz #shannon diaz #911 abc #911 spoilers #911 on abc #911 season 7 #911 season 7 episode 7 #buddie #evan buckley #eddie and marisol #eddie and buck #eddie and shannon #911 textpost #911 analysis

793 notes · View notes

wasawattpadkid · 1 year

Text

Housewife

Part - 12

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: Poly! ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating, homophobic slang

Part 1

You smacked Billy's hand away from the deviled eggs. "Stu please keep him away from the food." You begged with a casserole in your hands. Stu stood wide eyed with a slice of potato in his mouth. "Quit eating the food before I sit it out." You scolded trying not to laugh. The oven beeped making Stu check the food. "Pork chops are done!" Billy grabbed the oven mitts pulling the hot dish from the oven. "You can sit it here I've got hot plates down." You moved things around leaving room for everyone to sit.

"I'll make drinks." Stu grabbed three glasses pouring out what everyone wanted. "Do you need anything else?" Billy asked ready to help if you asked him to. You wiped your hands off on your apron looking around. "I think that's it. Thank you." Billy sat down at the table as Stu gave everyone their glass. The boys looked at the table like it was Christmas dinner. "Oh shit! I forgot to make the pie." You rubbed your face stressed. Cooking was one of your favorite things to do. Yet it could be the most irritating thing if one thing after another seemed to go wrong. The potatoes were a little over done while the vegetable casserole was a little too crisp around the edges.

"Hey." Billy's hands rested on your arms pulling you back to reality. "It looks great Y/n. Don't worry about a pie when you've already done this." He gestured towards the table full of food. "I wouldn't have room for pie anyways." Stu laughed. "I would." You and Billy both glared at the boy. "Actually I'm already full." You took a deep breath shaking your head. "Okay let's hope it tastes good." You said as you sat down. "It always does." Billy reassured you knowing you needed it. When setting the table Billy made sure to give everyone multiple plates. Stu however didn't need them.

You took a bite of your food mentally telling yourself you were a genius. Billy just stared in disgust at his friend. "What's wrong? Why aren't you eating?" You asked worried he didn't like the food. Stu had everything on one plate. The casserole was sitting in whatever oil you cooked the pork chops with. The deviled eggs sat next to the potatos getting the filling on everything else. It freaked Billy out. "I gave you a saucer for a reason." Stu looked up chewing on the food in his mouth. "What?" He said looking down at the extra clean plates on the table. "Oh! Well there's less dishes to do if I use one." Stu shrugged getting back to eating.

"I'll do the dishes just separate your food." You felt a little bad thinking the scene in front of you was funny. "Why does this bother you?" Billy looked at you like this was a universal opinion. "Why does this bother me? Look you've got your pork chop covered in broccoli casserole and there's deviled egg filling on it too." You took the chance to study Billy's plate. If the food could even be considered a little runny it had it's own plate. You agreed with Billy to an extent but it wasn't at all that serious. "It's going to mix together in my stomach so it really doesn't matter." Billy rolled his eyes knowing it certainly did matter.

Like a child Billy grabbed his plates moving over to sit next to you. "Are you serious?" You laughed even Stu was amused. "I can't eat if I'm sitting next to him." You just shook your head. "Okay besides obsessive compulsive over here, we do need to have a talk." Billy actually began to eat his food that you were sure was starting to get cold. "How long is Stu staying here?" Billy spoke jealousy evident in his voice. "Till we go back to school next week." You said before taking a drink from your glass. "My parents threatened to hire a maid so I couldn't throw any more parties." Stu laughed before shoving more food in his mouth.

You couldn't wrap your head around how parents could care so little about their child. "That's insane but we're getting off track. Stu in an ideal situation where would you want this to go?" You looked between him and Billy. "Can't we just hang out and see where it goes?" You liked the idea, it was one you thought about several times but it wouldn't work. "I wish we could but there's three of us involved. There's jealousy and guilt. Billy is already jealous you're staying with me." The boy next to you dropped his fork holding up his hands. "Hey I'm not jealous." Both you and Stu looked at him with straight faces. "Okay maybe I was a little jealous. Sue me."

"I want this to work out. I want to be able to call you both mine eventually." Billy laughed at his friend. "That's not going to work. I'm not having the world think I'm some sort of fairy." Stu just shot you a look. You weren't sure how to address the situation. With a huff Stu started talking. "I don't care what people think and I know that you do. I'm not going to tell anyone anything you don't want me to. I figured you knew that by now." You knew this was something time would have to fix. Neither you or Stu could force Billy to be okay with himself.

"How's this? All three of us are in a relationship. No two people more than the other. No labels. What we do behind closed doors is our business." Billy continued to eat leaving you and Stu to wait for some homophobic comment. "Works for me." He said as he wiped his lips with a napkin. "Stu?" You questioned. The short haired boy was just surprised with Billy's acceptance. "I'm alright with that. What do we do in public though?" Billy perked up also wanting an answer to the question. "Well we could just say I'm the girlfriend."

"When we're in public you're my girlfriend." A discussion with Billy was him simply telling it like it is. Stu was so used to it he thought he actually had a say in something. You weren't having it. "Is that alright with you?" Stu thought about it for a moment. "I guess so. I don't care for labels. What about holding hands and things like that? Do I just wait till we get home?" Billy seemed disinterested in the conversation. He wasn't expecting so many rules to what should be simple.

"I don't care if you two hold hands or whatever. At the end of the day though the word on the street is that you're my girlfriend." Billy was dead set on this. It sounded like a possessive thing and part of it was. Most of it however was just the security of the title. "Okay then that's settled. My only thing is and I can't be convinced otherwise, there will be no cheating." The boys found the word "cheating" rather funny since this so called relationship was between three people. "What does that mean exactly?" Billy asked resting his elbows on the table. "It means we don't sleep with anyone who isn't in this room."

Stu could live with that but he wasn't sure of Billy's loyalty. "Fair. Speaking of sex though how's that supposed to work? I don't want you two fooling around while I'm away." His hand swatted the air between you and Stu. "I'm going to want one on one time with the both of you on occasion. I'm sure the two of you will want your privacy sometimes." Billy would be fine sleeping with you by himself but the idea of you and Stu alone bothered him. He realized that was hypocritical. "So me and Billy can screw around without you and you don't mind?" Stu asked earning a glare from Billy. The idea didn't bother you.

"Yeah and if one of you comes over after school to spend the night it won't be an issue. This has to be fair to everyone involved. I'm not saying we'll never all be together. I'm sure that most of the time I'll be with the both of you." You took a sip of your drink leaving a small moment for either one of them to talk. Neither of them did. "I want to make it clear that you two are not dating me. We are all dating each other." Billy and Stu gave each other a look one you had a hard time reading. "What's the difference?" Stu asked. You don't know why you thought this would be a quick and easy conversation.

"The difference is we are all equal here. If one of us feels left out or has an issue then we'll discuss it together. Does that make sense?" Stu nodded actually following along with every word you said. "I'm sorry am I boring you?" You asked Billy who seemed aloof with the whole idea of a relationship. "No but is all this really necessary? It's seems like a business deal." Stu had to agree with his friend on that. "It is necessary if you want this to be a long term thing. You are far too jealous to not have rules and Stu is far too sensitive." The short haired boy couldn't even argue.

"Okay fine." Billy wouldn't admit it but he knew you were right. "What about dates?" Stu asked and the question alone made that giddy feeling come back. "Dates should be all three of us." Billy added his two cents. "That's what I was thinking." Stu wanted the same thing you did. For this to be an equal relationship. You listened to the boys not seeing anything wrong with the idea. "Alright any dates have to involve all three of us. Is there anything else?"

You wanted to have hope, be optimistic for once. However the quickness of everything really bothered you. "I hope not." Billy half laughed with Stu nodding in return. "This seems fast right?" You weren't crazy. This whole thing happened in such a short span of time. Part of the reason being the murders. Billy and Stu weren't dumb they knew how quickly all of this developed. Billy was well aware of how swiftly he became infatuated with you. You would say it's because of the scheme you had planned but he knew it was more than that. Stu however just fell in love easily. He was like a stray dog, you feed them once and they'll keep showing up at your door.

"It is fast but it doesn't have to be." Billy tried to be the understanding and caring boyfriend you so desperately wanted. "Yeah! We could go out and try to do this the right way." Stu was all for a old fashioned relationship. He wasn't sure if you could have a gayish old fashioned relationship but you three would be the first to do it. You smiled. Atleast the boys were looking at the glass half full. Billy looked at Stu having one of those wordless conversations. You stopped trying to read them at this point.

The boys helped clean up the table, Billy was tasked with washing dishes as penance for his previous offenses. He knew it'd take more than some corning ware but he was willing to do it for you. "Me and Y/n were listening to some records earlier." Stu talked as he toyed with the record cabinet. "Is that so?" Billy continued scrubbing the glassware only looking up to glance at Stu. "Yeah. Did you know Elvis came in his pants on stage once?" You snickered as you swept the floor. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you tell me that?"

Stu laughed, one of his favorite activities was catching his partner off guard. "Hey she told me. If I have to know it so do you." The boy pointed at you making Billy turn around. His hands were wet gripping the counter he leaned on. "He's already screwed up enough don't encourage him." Stu smiled a big smile falling in the floor in front of you. "Please, oh please encourage me." He begged making you roll your eyes. "See what I mean?" Billy shook his head with a smirk wiping his hands off on a dish towel.

"Okay seriously that hurt." Stu said holding his stomach as he stood up. "Oh my god let me see it." Billy laughed at your aggravated tone. You lifted Stu's shirt just enough to check the bandages. Billy watched wishing he was still in pain so you could look after him. "You're not bleeding but remind me tonight I've got to change your bandages." Stu looked over at Billy trying to read his expression. He felt like shit seeing the wounds that covered Stu's abdomen. Everyone in the room knew who caused the damage but no one acknowledged it.

"I'm sorry about that." Billy said cracking his knuckles. His eyes were focused on the floor not ready to show off the look of guilt on his face. "It's no problem. I'm gonna have badass scars." You looked up at Stu once you taped down his bandage. "You're right about that." You noticed the tension between the two boys and you weren't sure what it was about. "I'm going to go put on some pajamas. You two okay down here?"

"We're not toddlers we can manage." Stu's words were only half true. They definitely weren't toddlers but they certainly couldn't manage on their own. You walked up the stairs shutting your bedroom door behind you. Billy looked up the stairs for a second making sure you were gone. "We should plan a date." Stu smiled at the boy. "Look at Loomis getting all romantic." Billy refrained from smacking him seeing he's done enough damage for while. "Yeah yeah, where would you want to go?" Stu was a little confused by the question. "Shouldn't you ask Betty Crocker?" He figured the impromptu date was to please you. Billy already had Stu eating out of the palm of his hand all he needed was for you to do the same. "I'm taking you both out ass-wipe. That's what we're doing now right?"

Stu hated how excited the thought made him. Billy never took Stu out for anything other than a rented VHS tape. The idea that he could have a semi-normal relationship with the man he's cared about for years never crossed his mind. "We could take her to an antique store or something? She likes those places, they make me sneeze." Billy rubbed his face with his hand. "Stu I'm trying my best here I'd love some cooperation. Where do you want to go?" Stu had no idea. He's never been taken out anywhere. He took Tatum shopping and Casey too but he's never had those favors returned.

"We could go roller skating!" Stu hadn't been to a roller rink since he was a kid. "I like the enthusiasm but stitches, high speeds, and hard wood don't mix well when you're involved." He wanted to be upset but Billy made a valid point. "That arcade opened up down town. Would you be okay with doing that?" It was a better plan than wearing dirty skates. "I'll be fine but you're going to get your ass kicked in Mortal Kombat." Billy watched a smile light up Stu's face. "Oh you're on."

"Who's on?" You asked walking back into the kitchen. Billy looked you up and down admiring the nightgown he picked out in person. "I'm turned on." Stu said raising his eyebrows suggestively. "Well turn yourself off because I'm not in the mood to be spit roasted." Stu's jaw dropped at your words while Billy just stood confused. "What?" Stu stood up whispering the definition into his partner's ear. You watched in delight as Billy's features grew serious and that sinister glint in his eyes returned. "You are more fucked up that I thought." His eyes once again scanned you from head to toe.

"You say that like you don't love it." You walked to the living room turning on the TV. Believe it or not you were just as evil as they were. Just in different scenarios. You majored in the psychological warfare department. "She's going to be the death of us." Billy groaned as you sat down on the sofa. Stu smiled walking backwards into the living room. He held out his arms dramatically looking at Billy. "What a wonderful way to go."

(if your name has a line through it Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you.)

Part 13

Taglist (closed): @katie-tibo @agustdeeyaa @bowlofceral @gonnapermashift @tati-the-fangirl @kozumewhore @tatijoestar @illyanam1011 @c4rved-pumpk1n @msghostface @gojosbucket @sammanna @lokigirlszendaya @reneki @fetusharryluvr @kadu-5607 @pumpk1n-writes @lovekeeho @tojisblood @zeysartzone @life-of-music3 @flyestvenustrap @littleblondesoprano @loomiscorpse @nicciekawegosblog @reneemunson @miss-puregotti @ksgsfsgaj @zoleea-exultant @briefwinnerpersonaturtle @mistydreamscape @l4venderia @nex-crowley @ashreblogsnow @brynaa223 @your-desire666 @billyloomiswhore4 @holyladyofsorrows @megluv1 @ellieswifeiya @yoluvrz @forallthstarsinthesky @madsothree @youcantbesirius @lubunnii @captainhowdysseptum @geekygremlin @madneedshelp

#housewife #billy loomis #scream #ghostface #scream 1996 #billy loomis x reader #ghostface x reader #scream fanfic #poly!ghostface #billy loomis ghostface #billy loomis masterlist #billy loomis smut #stu macher x reader #stu macher #stu macher smut #stu macher imagine #stu macher fluff #stu ghostface #ghostface x female reader

1K notes · View notes

antimony-medusa · 7 months

Note

Gonna be honest with you though if someone outright says “don’t ship my character with other people” or something to that extent regarding smut or whatever I don’t think there should be any ambiguity

I get your point about the nature of fanfic being inherently encroaching upon people’s images so that levity should be extended to otherwise uncommon avenues but I really believe hardline boundaries should be respected, end of, no discussion. If I see people violating creators’ boundaries for their characters Or themselves (and these can be intertwined, it’s not up to the audience to pick apart their boundaries, cuz I’ve seen people try to do that) I’m not going to judge them fairly and I feel like neither should you.

Lines can be crossed and intimacy (not even necessarily romantic!) is a very different monster than the other avenues of storytelling because of how it involves real life relationships seeping into character relationships. Its’s uncommon for people to be like “I wrote A’s character being tortured because I feel like A is tortured in real life” but they Can and Often do that with ship work. So I don’t know, I feel like you’re not affording this the right nuance.

Alright, so, this is another post I'm gonna slap with a discourse and long post warning right away, buckle in.

Yeah, I hear what you're saying, and this is not an uncommon opinion to have! It's still the opinion of twitter/x so far as I know, and I think it's probably the opinion of the bulk of dsmp fans here, as well. I know my posts get notes once they start circulating in hermitblr, but I don't kid myself that I have the majority view. I am posting to explain my views expressly because I know a lot of people don't agree with me!

And in this case we do have a difference of opinion. There's two sort of points as I see it in your posts— we have hardline boundaries about shipping/nsfw from some people, and everyone in the fandom should be abiding by those no exceptions or be thrown out of the fandom; and we have shipping boundaries but not boundaries for other things because shipping is uniquely boundary-crossing and terrible and invasive, in contrast to anything else we can do in fandom.

Taking the second part first, I just don't think that's true. Let's not forget, boundaries discourse started with SMPLive and SMPronpa, and it was not the shipping that caused the discussion, it was the death games. The first real fandom reckoning we had with the notion of boundaries as mcyt fandom was over gore and murder and portraying people in violent ways. Shipping was barely a blip on the radar. The way the discourse has developed now, shipping is framed as the absolute worst thing anyone could ever do with your public image, and everything else is fine, but that is not the case for everyone. Recently the Pirates SMP creators were asked repeatedly for their boundaries (bothered on twitter, really) until they gave them and thus we saw people being fine with shipping but not wanting family dynamic, or being against both shipping and gore, or being fine with shipping but not wanting to be gender bent or trans headcanoned, etc. Not everyone feels the same way about the same things, despite the us-american cultural viewpoint that romance and sexualization is uniquely bad but gore and torture is fine, that everything else is fine.

Like, if we're looking at DSMP, I think there are a lot of creators who would feel just as strongly if not stronger about fics in which their character died of a terminal illness than they would about a fic in which they kiss someone, for understandable reasons. But I see those tropes in the tags regularly!

I think if we are honest with ourselves, if we are going to hardline boundaries about things that are uniquely invasive or bad to do to a creator's character with the view that we are putting all of this up for the creator's approval, we need to accept that this excludes us from writing anything where a character is abusive or is tortured or dies of a terminal illness or is psychologically broken or is age regressed or is neurodivergent or is queer if the cc is straight or trans if the cc is cis or cis if the cc is trans or straight if they're gay— the list of things that would be weird to do in the face of the real guy is really long. And it has most of our favourite tropes on it!

I love writing autistic philza. It would be really fuckin' weird to go up to Philza and tell him about how I write his character as whumped and autistic. Come on now. (But that's within boundaries, so that's— fine? I really don't think it's fine!)

Which is why my stance is that we should be thinking critically about these things, and keeping the fandom seperate from the creators. Some of these things are just not for the creators. They're fine but they shouldn't go on twitter. Y'know?

The idea that shipping draws uniquely on the real person and leads to invasive behaviour but nothing else does— that nobody does "I wrote A being tortured because I think A is tortured in real life"— Look. I have been in the fandom a long time. I remember how all the abused tommy narratives fed right into people assuming his family in real life were abusive— and talking about this on twitter! Where he and his family could see! People did this with WIlbur and Techno too!

I remember people reading about trans tommy and then truthing that the creator either was transmasc or was going to come out as transfemme any day now, publically, on twitter and in his chat. I have seen people she/her tubbo to his face on twitter, with fancams. I have been in chat when people who have clearly assigned Phil "dad" start asking WILDLY invasive things in TTS. If you think that shipping is the only fandom behaviour that can lead to people drawing directly from the streamers for their work and treating the creators weirdly about it, you simply have not been paying attention.

The way the fandom insists on treating benchtrio as children despite the fact that they're almost twenty and viciously attacking their friends for treating them as adults and chiding tommy and tubbo and ranboo for inappropriate behaviour. The list goes ON.

So. The recieved DSMP wisdom is that we should TTS the streamers to check if it's okay if we write a fic in which they die of cancer. We should DM them on instagram to ask if it's okay if we write them as a gender or sexual identity they don't share. We should show up in their twitter mentions to ask if it's okay if we write them as a physically abusive parent.

No????????

My view on that is that it is frankly bizzare it is that we have decided that "asking creators for detailed instructions regarding porn or gore" (especially in TTS! When they're fucking at WORK and can't step away! Stop doing this to the hermits!) is normal and fine and responsible but "post your shit in appropriate places and leave the creators out of it" will make you a monster.

Once again, the experience of someone coming up and saying "i think of you as age regressed" and someone saying "i found this fic where you're age regressed" and someone saying "can I write a fic where you're age regressed" is not that different. In all cases you know that the person has been thinking about it and putting it out there, and in all cases you didnt seek out this information, it was brought to you. In all cases it's weird. Just do not bring this information up to them!

If you just think about it for a while, you see that there is an entire host of things that would be weird to force into the view of a creator, especially when you consider that half the time we got these clips from TTS information when we have no idea if the person answering knew the context of what they were being asked, if they were specifically aware of the creator/cc divide that the fandom works with, or if they felt pressured into it. Oh yeah, let's take a TTS clip from Tubbo when it was 2 in the morning for him and he was deep in a minecraft mod when someone asked him about alters and delusions and he was like "oh you mean like— when they can't help it? I guess that's fine." That definately counts as freely given, reversible, informed, enthusiastic and specific consent to show him anything we want at all times forever. That's never going to make him uncomfortable.

Think a little here.

So I think there's a lot of the fandom that we should not be putting up for the approval of the creators, and if we don't have a firm answer on if they would like potential edge cases, we should probably be thinking about it and keeping it away from them (and I would err on the side of caution), we should NOT be showing up in the TTS to ask them about narratives in which they're institutionalized, or making them a GOP conservative in fiction, or if Wilbur was canon about seeing them as a bottom, or whatever bizzare thing someone is cooking up now. Honestly if you think to yourself "I don't know if the creator would like seeing this", I would be much more comfortable if the two choices we were picking between there were "simply don't write it" or "write it but keep it away from them", and "harass the creator for an answer on this subject and only write it if they say yes" never entered the equation at all.

And to return to your first point, if we already have a class of fiction that we are keeping away from the creators because basic intellectual curiosity would show that it would be weird to show someone, I don't think it's the end of the world to go "okay, creator doesn't like NSFW, so we also keep the NSFW away from them, keep this shit off twitter, block them if you create it, don't show it to them" and then we archive lock it and continue on our little weirdo on the internet ways.

Now, I don't expect to convince you of this, the phrasing of your post does not indicate that you're open to discussion on this topic. That's fine. Nobody has to agree with me. But I grew up conservative christian, and I have already had people try and get me to throw people out of the community for their perceived sins where I was like "well, I really don't think this is that bad", and I'm really resistant to being forced to do that again. I don't think it's a healthy way to run a fandom, to be shunning people for what they're doing in fiction. Harassing creators in chat? Sure, I will block them from my events as untrustworthy. That's hurting someone in the real world. Writing something that I don't vibe with privately on the archive for an audience of 50 people? That is not doing harm to real people. As long as they're not showing it to the creators, I don't count that as offensive.

How's that for nuance.

#discourse #fandom meta #dsmp shipping #qsmp shipping #anon #ask #long post

500 notes · View notes

yandere-romanticaa · 1 year

Text

I don't think some people understand just how absolutely terrifying Mori is and I want to talk about it.

When you meet him it will most likely be in a casual place such as the street or the mall with Elise by his side, naturally. The little girl takes a swift liking to you and basically demands Mori to convince you to play with her and he obeys. It is honestly a little humiliating seeing a grown man beg for something like that but it is endearing in its own little way. Feeling bad for them both you agree and promptly make your way towards the playground where the three of you spend the day together, responsibilities be damned.

Before you know it, the physician and his daughter become something of a semi often occurence in your life.

Mori himself is silly - tripping all over his words, especially if Elise says something to him. There are times when the little girl says some of the most concerning things totally out of the blue but Mori always manages to shut her up, which feels out of character for him.

It feels like some sort of secret that you really should not hear but you decide not to pay any attention to it. Everyone has secrets to keep, a skeleton or two deeply hidden in their closets, you don't judge Mori for this.

He is greatly pleased with your easygoing attitude.

Mori often sits in his pitch black office, the scent of fine chocolates and cigarette smoke lingering in the air as his subordinates give him their reports but his mind is elsewhere.

He's half paying attention to the executive's words as he grabs a tiny heart shaped chocolate from the pristine red box, its surface shining brightly against the light that is lit close to him. He pops is in his mouth and savors the milky flavour, the sweet strawberry centre giving it that extra delightful kick which he oh so craves.

Mori indulges in the sweets and thinks of you as he does so. Yes, this is something you would love.

The gifts start pouring and pouring, each one more extravagant than the last. They range from fine sweets, good wine, beautiful clothing and letters which detail the senders feelings towards you. The sender never bothered to sign the letters but always made sure to add something like I'm always watching or Sleep well.

It was creepy.

You tell Mori about some of the gifts that are left on your doorstep but never go into full detail as you're too nervous of scaring him off. The older man always somehow manages to laugh the entire sitation away and tells you to not so worry so much. Don't you know that some people would kill to have someone so helplessly in love with them? He sits on your couch, legs crossed and with a cup of tea in his hands, which you served him of course. You talk and talk and his words give shallow comfort especially as time goes by.

Was he being too forward? Did the gifts not suit your preferences? With a sigh he just waves off his men, all while thinking to himself "Ridiculous, of course they love it!"

Mori thinks you're just shy. You just are not used to someone paying so much attention to you, especially to the extent that Mori is. He has eyes and ears everywhere, your apartment is under constant surveillance and not to mention that the apartment itself is bugged, allowing Mori to hear you speak and do your other daily activities.

He knows you better then you know yourself.

It does not take Mori insert himself in your life in more personal ways. No matter who, Mori always somehow manages to make the people around him look worse than he is and in a flash he orchestrates the downfall of your whole entire life. You lose your job, your home, your friends and family no longer speak to you.

Some, if not all are dead but you don't need to know that.

That is when he comes to you, when you are at your weakest, your most vulnerable. He drops the silly act like a mask and his true colours are exposed.

Mori Ougai is a monster.

But, would you rather sell your soul to a monster or be left in the streets alone, unloved and penniless? Truly, your life would be so much easier if you just submit to him and look, you don't even need to do that much! Eat the food he feeds and wear the nice clothes he gets you and you will be golden!! Just, be still and pretty, alright?

It's honetly so jarring to see Mori's personality shift - one minute he is the silly doctor you met and grew to like, the man who says dumb things in order to make you laugh, the man who was willing to beg on his knees for you to just please, wear this cute outfit, it is going to look so good on you he promises!!

And yet, the next moment he is cold, cruel and calculating, the head of the Port Mafia. He is a man of his word and his subordinates greatly admire and fear him, yes, fear. Do not forget that Kyouka literally started shaking when she saw him after she left the Port Mafia, almost everyone who is in close contact with the man is never the same person they were once before. He will make himself out to be the best possible option and you know that he is the reason why your life is in shambles but that's not even the worst bit.

It is the fact that you have two options. Do you go to the streets and die in the darkness, be it from starvation, dehydration or murder? Or, do you stay with Mori who all but guarantees your safety and comfort, under the condition that you can never leave?

He knows you hate him and he is perfectly content with that. You will choose him in the end, you always will.

That is what keeps you both up at night, one with glee while the other with terror.

🕊️ TAGS: @yanroma, @oneoftheprettynerds, @rosemary108233, @itssara-chan, @gettinshiggywithit, @ophticcus

#yandere #yandere x reader #yancore #yanderecore #yandere aesthetic #yandere imagines #yandere x you #bsd mori #yandere ougai mori #yandere ougai mori x reader #mori #mori ougai x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #yandere bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #yandere bungo stray dogs

2K notes · View notes

final-script · 9 months

Text

Take It Or Leave It… |LN4

Pairing: Lando Norris x Leclerc!Reader

Sumary: Where you love your brothers but…

Warnings: English is not my first language !!!There are probably many mistakes (I will correct them later)

Gif: sebxvettel

------------------------------

In her final moments, Hervé made them promise her older children that you would take care of their younger sister.

He made them promise that they would not let anything happen to her and that they would always be for her.

And wow they did… They treated you like a princess.

You could say you couldn't complain about anything… except for one thing.

Since you have use of reason and since you started having some "dates" you had begun to "hate" your brothers, there was no date that they did not ruin.

You had talked to your mom about it and she said that they were just trying to protect you, that they don't misunderstand you, you understood them and you were more than grateful to them.

But… You wanted to be able to experience the power you were with someone, however with your brothers, it was becoming impossible, they scared every boy you were with.

And to be honest, that was beginning to arouse you, to such an extent that you began to hide things from them.

Only your mother and Enzo, (which we can say that despite being the oldest, he was the least overprotective of the 3), were the ones who knew some things.

At the end of the 2022 season you had started to meet with Lando, he treated you wonderfully, enjoying every moment with him.

Very afraid to start something at first, but eager too.

I understood from the beginning that you want to keep the relationship private, unless you were sure that theirs was solid enough.

(…)

The moment they talked and decided to start telling it, the first to know were, their parents and your mother.

Perosas who respected their decision, but who recommended that at some point they should tell your brothers.

(…)

L- do you think you can go to Silverstone?

Y/N- of course, I will be like in every race.

L- with me. I leave myself speechless - it is my home race and in addition to my family, I would like to have you by my side, it's okay if you don't want to, I'll understand.

You could see a look of discouragement on his face.

Y/N- go with you, I was only surprised that you chose your home race to want to tell everything, I thought you wanted a little tranquility in the midst of all the chaos and considering that it will also be official in front of my brothers, even more.

L- chaos is something I am used to, I can handle it, on your brothers, at some point they will have to know, I do not care what is now, If that means I can have you with me, at least for a career, but like I said, I understand if you don't want to, I've respected your decision forever and will continue to do so, if you want to.

Y/N- who I did to deserve you. I cradle his face in my hands. - I agree with what you say, at some point they will have to find out, you have always respected me and if you want to tell everyone now, okay, I can also get probecho of this situation, everyone will know that you are mine.

We both laughed and kissed.

L- I will talk to the team and let you know that we will be one more this time.

Y/N- and I must warn mom not to come with her. L- and your brothers?

Y/N- when we get together, you will have your own answers.

L-hope to survive.

(…)

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous, talking about making everything public was one thing, but doing it was something else.

As we got closer to the circuit, everything began to become real.

My head generated all kinds of scenarios.

But one that I was sure of and boy had I been thinking about it, for nothing in the world was going to let my brothers get into my relationship.

I loved being protected, but it's time they let me live.

I came back to reality when the car stopped.

L- are you ready? I hold my hand before I get out of the car.

Y/N- list. A short kiss before he came down to open the door for me like an English gentleman.

As expected, many cameras turned to see us, so he took my hand tightly and together with his coach we entered the Paddock.

Inside, surprised looks and gestures were not lacking.

You had managed to calm down a little thanks to the grip of your boyfriend, but again the tension returned when in the distance and as if it were a joke, your 3 brothers were facing each other.

Y/N- I think now I should ask, are you ready?

L- I would be lying if I said yes, but... There is no turning back.

We were at the entrance of the hospitality of Maclaren and a few mentros was that of Ferrari, so as they had already seen us, we would simply wait for them to approach.

Finally they did, but before they spoke I stopped them.

Y/N- before they start acting like they always do, stop, I'm not going to let them mess this time, not anymore, I understand that they want to protect me, but it's time for them to let me live, don't misunderstand me, I love them, but already vast.

Lando's arm encircled my waist in a supportive manner.

Y/N- so... It's their decision, I take it or leave it, but I'm not going to part with it.

Judging by his expressions, my words were not expected.

A- Since when?

CH- Lando and your…

Y/N- Enzo? He was always the one who had something to say, but strangely he was completely silent.

E- I think I speak for all three, Where you hurt our sister, you are in serious trouble.

Lando released the air that had been contained and took the floor.

L- believe me, it's not in my plans.

Ch- since when?. He seemed to have recovered from shock.

Y/N - at the end of last season.

A- maman, you know?

L- she and my parents were the first to know.

CH- I think we can't say much more than what Enzo said, you'll damage our sister and most likely you'll get a slight touch on one of your wheels. I opened my eyes greatly.

Y/N- CHARLES!!

CH- which?!?!, I'm just saying.

Y/N- no one will touch anyone.

Everything went better than I thought and I was grateful for that.

Although she was sure that they would not remain silent and corner Lando as soon as they had the chance.

-----------------------

ANOTHERS

The Best Kept Secret - Arthur Leclerc X Reader

Grateful, Excited and Expectant - Lando Norris X Reader

#lando norris #f1 #lando norris one shot #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #f1 one shot #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #arthur leclerc imagine #arthur leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine

554 notes · View notes

thetravelerwrites · 2 months

Text

As a disabled person... a disabled person since I was very young (age 2) and will be until I die... I like stories that portray disabled people accurately. It's why I devote a lot of my writing to people with disabilities or chronic illnesses, because I feel like it's important. We don't get to see accurate depictions of ourselves in media, and that representation is dearly, desperately needed, which is why I write them.

I like stories that are well researched, appropriate to the condition, and display a breadth of knowledge on the subject. I like stories where the disability is true, real, and doesn't magically get better.

But... as a disabled person with chronic pain, who requires regular, painful surgeries and procedures to keep me alive... I also like the stories where there is a magical fix. I like stories in which the characters who are suffering and in pain, no longer have to suffer or experience pain. Because I dream of a time and place in which I no longer have to suffer or live through the pain of my conditions. And I don't feel like it's wrong to feel that way.

I can like both. I can appreciate both. I see the value of both. And I know there are a lot of disabled people who disagree, that fiction should be true to reality in terms of disability, and I understand and respect the argument. I understand why they feel that way, and to some extent, I agree. But fantasy is fantasy for a reason, and I can do or say or be anything I want to be in fiction. What I want is to see myself, but sometimes, I want to see a version of myself that isn't suffering. And I don't think that's unfair.

#Personal #The Traveler Speaks #Disability #Disability in Media #Disabled Representation #please feel free to reblog

202 notes · View notes

hugsandharrystyles · 1 year

Text

Like a Virgin

yayayayayaya first post!

i meant for this to only be smutty and short, but it's a bit angsty cause that's how i am :) happy happy ending, though

word count: 6,757 (sorry)

warnings: heavy sexual content, unprotected sex, cursing, all around filthy stuff

summary: Harry Styles is your best friend and wants to lose his virginity to you, but he doesn't think you feel the same.

Harry Styles wants to have sex with you.

The thought has been silenced by years of a platonic relationship, but lately, as he's seen you become more in tune with who you are, especially your body, the thought has been pushed to the front of his mind.

You've always been, without a doubt, the most beautiful girl in the world to Harry, but growing up with someone who's claimed you're best friends and nothing else, makes you see them in a different way. And that's what you've always said. Harry is your best friend, and nothing would ever change that.

The thing is, Harry wants nothing more than for you to be the one to take his virginity. Harry wishes for nothing but for you to be the only person he has sex with for the rest of his life. The both of you have always been quite touchy-feely, even to the extent where it definitely borders on the line of platonic and romantic. And Harry could take the fall for a lot of the touchy gestures, but you have your fair share of seemingly meaningless touches too. The way you sit in his lap anywhere even if there's an empty chair. The way you comb your fingers through his hair and kiss his head when Harry's laying on your chest for a cuddle. The way you hug him from behind anywhere and anytime and run your palms across his belly. The way you smother his cheeks with kisses until he's drowning in his own blush any chance you get. Anything and everything you do seems to make his stomach churn with admiration and make his head dizzy- knees weak. He just wishes the feelings were reciprocated.

"Harry, are you sure I look okay in this?" Your sweet voice awakes him from his fantasy. He props himself up on his elbows on your bed and just about gets on his knees to worship you when his eyes meet you. You're both about to go out clubbing with a few friends and decided to get ready together as per usual. Your unconditional beauty always seems to surprise Harry no matter what. Your outfit makes his jaw drop a bit and his dick stiffens in his pants. He tries really hard to think about turn-offs, but with you standing in front of him looking as good as you do, nothing can come to mind. "Harry." You snap your fingers in front of his face.

"Sorry, what did you ask?" He questions, a blush creeping up his cheeks and to the tip of his ears. You stifle a laugh.

"I asked if you think I look okay."

"Yes, yes. You look... okay," He agrees. You narrow your eyes down at him.

"Just okay? I really want to look nice tonight. I seriously need to get laid. It's been ages," You cry dramatically. Harry's face deepens into a frown. "Hey, what's with the frown, you whiny pup?" You cup his jaw between your fingers so his cheeks smush and lean over him, giving the sadistic man a perfect view of your tits.

"Nothing, I'm fine," He lies through his teeth, his eyes looking anywhere but yours. You squint in dismay and slowly crawl your way to sit yourself on his lap. The sigh he lets out could almost be mistaken as a whimper. He thanks God that your sitting on his thighs and not a bit higher.

"I can always tell when you're lying, H," You whisper, your hands running through his hair to manipulate an answer out of him. He practically purrs from your touch. "Now, fess up."

"It's nothing, really. I just- I was just thinking about how I need to put myself out there. Don't want to be a 40-year-old virgin," He laughs bashfully.

Your stomach churns.

"Right," You sigh and move off him. Harry looks at you confused as you walk back to the bathroom.

"Hey, Y/N, did I do something?" He calls after you, following you into the bathroom. You finish the last touches with yourself and turn to look at the worried boy. Your face softens.

"Harry," You whisper, closing the distance between you two as you walk over to him. You wrap your arms around his waist and gaze up into his eyes. "You know I love you more than anyone, right?" You ask, sliding your hands up his chest. He nods in agreement, and you can feel his heart rate going a million miles an hour as you place your hand over his chest. "Say it," You demand.

"Yes, I know you do," He whispers, practically putty in your hands. Your hands slide up to cup his face.

"And you know that I would do anything in the world for you?" You purr, ghosting your lips over his cheek.

"Y-Yes," He stutters. Out of an impulse moment of desire, you stand on your tippy-toes and place a light kiss to the corner of his mouth. Harry practically moans, his hands flying to grip onto the sink behind you, caging you in.

"Good," You say, placing a kiss to his throat before abruptly pushing him away and grabbing your things.

"W-What?" Harry basically whimpers.

"C'mon, silly boy. We don't want to be late," You declare and grab his hand, dragging him downstairs and to his car to make him drive.

He's in for one hell of a night.

Harry could not have been happier. You literally had not left his side the entire night. You had dragged him into the bar, found your friends in a booth, and plopped yourself on his lap for the entire night. He didn't know what had gotten into you, but he wasn't going to complain. Barely anyone batted an eye at the behavior of both of you. Harry was getting antsy, though. He was itching to touch you. As sooon as he was about to raise his hands from your lower thighs to higher, he heard his name being called.

"Harry, c'mon, let's go get some drinks," His friend Armand suggested. Armand had already slid out of the booth they were all sat in and was waving Harry on. Harry almost whined when he felt you tug on his hair.

"You go on by yourself, mate," Harry answered, leaning himself into your neck since you were sitting sideways across his lap.

"C'mon you whipped man," Armand chuckled, grabbing Harry's shoulder and giving it a harsh shove. Harry's cheeks were flaming. He heard your angelic giggle and felt you slide off his lap. Immediately he felt empty.

"Go on now, pet," You whisper in his ear before pressing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"Fucks sakes," He mumbles under his breath before getting out of the booth and moping to the bar alongside Armand. Once they reach the bar, the ordered their drinks, and Harry waited impatiently.

"Dude," Armand laughs, noticing how Harry was literally itching to get back to you.

"What?" Harry snaps.

"Hey, hey. Take it easy, would ya'?"

"Sorry, man," Harry lightly laughs.

"What are you going to do, H?" Armand sighs.

"What are you talking about?" Harry feigns confusion. Armand gives him a knowing look. "Okay, shit. I don't know. Every time I think I might have a chance, she says some friend shit, and I feel like we're back to-" Harry stops talking when his eyes wander back over to your table where he sees you hugging some man he's never seen before. An attractive man, at that.

"What are you lookin- Oh, shit." Armand stops. You're laughing loudly at whatever the man just said and playfully shove his shoulder. Harry's heart feels like it just got ripped out of his chest and stomped on repeatedly. "Dude-" Armand begins, but Harry cuts him off.

"It's alright. Always knew I wouldn't be enough, huh?" Harry laughs in self deprecation. On his left, he catches a glimpse of a girl who's been eyeing him since he got to the bar. He smiles and walks towards her.

It's now or never.

"Hello, my name's Harry."

Your eyes are searching for Harry everywhere in the bar, but it's no use. It's been twenty minutes since Harry and Armand went to the bar, and Armand came back about five minutes ago- with a suspiciously guilty look on his face- and said Harry had disappeared.

"I'm getting worried. I really wanted to introduce him to my cousin, Ben, but-" Your sentence gets cut off.

"Wait- who?" Armand interjects.

"Um, my cousin? He was over here while you two were at the bar. I told Harry we might see him tonight, and I wanted them to get along," You explain.

"Ah, shit," Armand exhales.

"What?" You pry, your eyes glaring at your friend sitting in front of you.

"Well, here's the thing," Armand begins with a guilty laugh. "We didn't know that was your cousin, and he got... upset."

"Are you serious? I literally showed him pictures of my cousin before we left. Where is he, Armand?"

"I think he's trying to... put himself out there right now," Armand explains.

Your heart drops.

You rise from the booth, hearing your friends shout for you, but you aren't paying attention to any of them. You're a woman on a mission, and nothing could stop you.

You search the dance floor, but to no avail. You're about to give up, but your eyes catch something you wish you could have never seen. Down the dark hallway that leads to the bathroom, you see Harry and a woman you don't recognize properly making out. It's like knives being plunged into your chest. And to think, you were going to tell him how you felt tonight.

"Hey, bitch, take a picture, it'll last longer." You're snapped out of your thoughts when you hear the most annoying voice in your life aiming in your direction. "Yeah, you. Are you deaf?" God, someone gag her.

"Y/N," You hear his voice in return. Your gaze settles on his hands that he still hasn't taken off of her waist. He seems to understand where your eyes have gone because he quickly loses his grip on her and backs away like she's slapped him.

"You know her?" The girl asks.

"No, no, he doesn't," You spit and turn on your heal, practically running away towards your table to collect your things. When you reach the table, all eyes are on your, and it's as if everyone is expecting you to explode.

"Y/N-" Armand whispers, still heard over the loud music of the club.

"It's okay," You murmur back. You're about to make your escape when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You turn and meet Harry's guilty eyes, flinching away from his touch as if you've been burned.

"Y/N," Harry's voice is flooded with emotion, but you don't want to hear any of it. I mean you really have no reason to be mad- it was never official.

"It's fine, Harry. You got what you wanted. I'm h-happy for you," The words seethe from your teeth.

"Are you seriously upset right now?" You hear from behind you.

"Harry don't-" Armand tries, but he's cut off.

"No- seriously. You have no right to be upset. You've been leading me on ever since I've known you, and when I actually thought I had a chance- I see you parading yourself around for some random guy I don't even know!" Harry is practically fuming. Tears are streaming down your cheeks when you finally turn around to face the dickhead. Harry almost feels bad.

Almost.

"Are you done, or do you want to call me a whore and a tease some more?" You ask.

"If the shoe fits," He whispers in anger.

"Harry, what the hell, dude," All your friends are grumbling in anger against him.

"What?! What?! How am I still the bad guy?" He asks.

"Harry, do you remember this morning when you were at my house?" You break the moment of silence.

"Well, no shit, yeah."

You hate this side of him.

"We were on the couch, scrolling through my phone. Do you remember what I showed you?" You ask, your head cocking to the side. You're barely holding it together.

"No. Enlighten me," He answers, his voice reeking with sarcasm.

"You remember me showing you pictures of my cousin, telling you how he was in the area and we might see him?"

You visibly see the change in him- the shift back to his soft being.

"Oh, God-" He holds his stomach, as if he was about to get sick. And he does. He's scurrying off to the bathroom before anyone could say anything, and without hesitation, you're following hot on his tail. He's busting through the bathroom, you right behind, getting several questionable looks from the men at the urinals. He sprints into a stall and falls to his knees, you also to collect his hair and rub his back as he gets sick.

"Oh, Harry," You whisper, brushing his stray curls out of his face. Once he's done emptying the alcohol from his body, he's turning to look at you, and he crumbles.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry," He cries, his hands shielding his face as he brings his knees to his chest.

"Har, sweetheart, let's go home," You encourage him, but he doesn't move from his spot on the nasty bathroom floor. You have no choice but to move next to him and hug him into your chest, your throat tightening as you breathe in the girl's fruity perfume radiating off his body.

He prefers floral smells anyways.

"Harry, baby, c'mon," You mumble to him.

"No, no," He whimpers.

"I'll run us a bath, c'mon," You bribe him.

"Us?" He questions, head finally lifting from his hands, and you try your best to ignore his swollen, cheap lip-stick stained lips and cheeks.

"Yeah, let's go, babe," You motivate him, standing and reaching your hand out to him. He carefully slips it into your, giving you a squeeze before finally getting himself off the floor. He's practically clinging to you as you both exit the bar. Once outside, you slip your hand into the pocket of his pants to retrieve his keys. "I'll drive, 'kay?" He nods solemnly and heads to the passenger side of the car. You climb into the driver's side and start the car, revving the loud engine to life. You turn on some light music to fill the silence and start the drive to your house. You feel his eyes on you the entire drive but choose to not comment on it. About halfway through the ride, you feel his hand shakily lay on your thigh, gripping it as if to remind him you're there. You gently place yours on top of his.

Once you've finally placed the car in park, you get out of the car without saying a word. Your anger and annoyance of the situation is settling in, but it doesn't overcloud the commiseration you feel for him. He slowly gets out of the car and mopes to the front door, following you in your steps. You anxiously unlock your door and let the both of you inside. You throw your keys on your entryway table after locking the door. You kick your shoes off at the door, Harry doing the same, and you mope up the stairs. You don't hear his heavy footsteps following, so you turn around to see what he's doing. Your eyes meet his pitiful, puppy-dog ones, and you angle your head up the stairs, suggesting for him to follow you, and he does so slowly.

Once you finally reach your bedroom, you make your way to your bathroom and turn your tub faucet on- the tub that just barely will hold two people. You set the temperature and turn to see Harry cautiously standing in the doorway.

"You sure about this?" He asks, his voice not above a whisper.

You think about it for a moment, more to just be petty.

"Yeah," You whisper back, meeting his eyes. You both stand there awkwardly, suddenly not knowing what to do next, but then your eyes catch sight of the lipstick stains on his lips, cheeks, neck, and upper chest, and you instantly feel the need to get rid of them. You slowly walk towards him and grab his hips- hearing his breath catch- and place him against the bathroom counter. "Stay and brush your teeth while you’re here," You lightly command and go to retrieve a cloth.

You're glad to see Harry’s finishing brushing his teeth when you came back with the cloth and you wet it with the flowing bathtub water, making a mental note to keep an eye on the fullness of the tub. You reach past Harry and put the cloth in the sink before reaching to unbutton his shirt.

"This okay?" You ask.

"Anything you want," He answers. Your quickly flick to his before focusing back on what you were doing. You shed the shirt off his body and toss it carelessly into your room somewhere. The sight of his bare chest makes you want to worship him because, God, he's so beautiful, but then you catch one more glimpse of the tacky lipstick, and those thoughts are pushed to the back of your mind.

You reach past him and grab the damp cloth again and start washing him off. You start with his angelic face. You gently wipe the stains off his cheeks and then his lips, all while seeing tears drowning his eyes. His hands reach out to hold onto your hips, but you push them away.

"Don't touch me until she's washed off of you," You whisper, and his tears fall. He nods lightly. You squeeze his arm gently to let him know you're not trying to hurt him.

Harry feels the worst he's ever in his life. He can see the brokenness in your eyes, and it kills him to know he's the one that made you like this. He's always so soft and gentle with you- talks so sweet with you, and he knows he's scarred you. He acted like a jealous fratboy, and he's disgusted with himself- literally sick to his stomach.

Once you finish cleaning the last of marks off him, you use the towel to wipe his hands off before tossing it to the sink and leaning your forehead against his chest. He sighs contently and runs his fingers through your hair.

"Can still fucking smell her on you," You whimper agitatedly and remove yourself from him.

"'m so sorry," He whispers.

"I know. Just fuckin' hurts," You explain, and he nods in understanding. "I understand, Harry, I do, but I had literally shown you pictures of my cousin this morning! And, I know it seems like I've been leading you on, but I was just so scared of messing everything up between us. Like- if I told you how I feel, you wouldn't feel the same, and everything would just be weird," You explain your side. You genuinely do understand why he did what he did, but it's still inexcusable.

"I was just so angry. I was too busy gawking at you this morning to pay attention, and it's no fuckin' excuse, but I'm completely enamored by you, and it drives me crazy- makes me act crazy. I fuckin' blacked out," He explicates. You sigh and take his hand in yours, rubbing small shapes into his skin.

"I just can't get the image of you and her out of my mind."

Harry exhales loudly in shamefulness. He's about to say something when the sound of water splashing on the floor is heard through the room.

"Ah, shit!" You yell and run to turn the faucet off. Harry scurries to grab towels, both of you having to laugh at the audacity of the situation. You drain some of the water out and turn to face him again with a small smile on your face. "Guess we should get in," You laugh.

Both of you are staring intently at one another as you both start to shed clothes. You've both seen each other in underwear but never bare.

"Still okay with this?" He asks.

"Yes. Are you?"

"Yes."

The final confirmation makes you both strip down to nothing. Neither of you even feel the need to cover yourselves because you're so comfortable with one another. Your eyes drift to places they shouldn't, and they're immediately widening at the sight in front of you.

Harry is thoroughly gifted.

"You're a fucking temptress," He whispers in awe.

"And you, Harry?" You refute. Both of you take a moment to gawk. "Am I the first to see you naked, Harry?"

"Yes," He whispers bashfully.

"What a reward that is," You establish.

"Stop," He softly laughs, and you allow yourself to laugh with him.

"Uh- let's get in before the water gets cold," You suggest, and he nods his head in subconscious agreement. He anxiously holds out his hand to you, and you slowly put yours in his. It's familiar and warm and eases some of your worries. You wish you had more will power to stay angry with him, but the way he looks at you makes you crumble. You're sweet, soft boy is eating himself up inside, and you can see it on his face.

He steps in first, making sure the water wouldn't burn your beautiful skin and leads you in too. He sits down against the back of the tub and gently puts his hands on your waist to bring you to sit down, leaning against his chest.

"Is- Is this okay?" He asks, arms floating awkwardly in the air because he doesn't know what to do with himself anymore.

He doesn't ever want to hurt you again.

"Yes, Harry, it's okay," You sigh and lean against him. The hot water makes him feel even warmer than he usually is, and you relish in it. You try to make yourself comfortable, but you can't with how tense Harry is. You take a deep breath and take his hands in yours and wrap them around your stomach. "Breathe, H," You whisper and turn to the side, nudging your nose against his jaw. You feel him take a few deep breaths, and you're both sinking farther into the water as he relaxes. "There you go, sweet boy," You mumble and rub your hands against his.

"Can't call me that," He finally speaks.

"And why not?" You ask, turning your neck a bit to see his face.

"'Cause I'm not." He says so quietly you could barely hear.

"Harry-"

"No, Y/N. I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am. I-" He pauses to take a deep breath. "I fucking made you cry," He chokes.

You pause for a moment, not quite sure how to respond because yes, he did say incredibly awful things and act out of line, but his feelings were valid.

"Yeah, never raised your voice at me like that before," You mutter.

"And I won't ever again," He answers, his voice growing stronger as does his arms around your waist. "Best thing that's ever happened to me, and I go and fuck it up."

You turn around so your straddling his waist. You notice he visibly blushes, and his hands are, once again, lost in the air. You stifle a laugh and drag them to your sides, giving them a squeeze.

"Yeah, you were an ass tonight," You comply, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

"The biggest," He whimpers in self pity.

"The meanest." You kiss his other cheek.

"Stupidest," He mutters, sighing when you place against the middle of his throat.

"But you want me?" You clarify.

"Need," He corrects. "Never needed or wanted anyone other than you. Didn't think I could have you, so I tried to settle for lesser."

"Much less," You softly giggle.

"Much, much. Didn't even smell good. It was like kissing a pineapple." You both laugh at that.

"Very funny, but I don't want to think or hear about her ever again," You sigh, resting the side of your forehead in the crook of his neck, and he brings his hands to gently slide up and down your back.

"Only person in the world for me. Only person ever," He mutters and kisses the side of your head.

And you both stay like that for awhile, just breathing each other in after so long of wanting until you feel something hardening between your legs.

"Um, Harry," You quietly giggle.

"What?" He asks, confused as to why you're breaking the sweet moment to laugh at him. You lift your brows to say 'really?' and quickly adjust your hips over him, so he knows what you're talking about. "Oh, fuck," He whimpers and stares wide-eyed at you. "Shit- I'm so sorry-" He hides his red face in his hands.

"What are you apologizing for? I'm flattered, babe," You say, still laughing.

"Then why are you laughing," He whines against his palms.

"Jeez, sensitive little thing," You exasperate and take his hands off his face, keeping them in your hands instead. He glares at your jibes and mutters something inaudible under his breath. "What was that?" You ask, taunting. Something shifts in his eyes, like he's done putting up with your jokes. And very suddenly, his hand leaves yours and is now wrapped around your throat. Your eyes are bulging out of your head, and your mouth is dropped open out of surprise.

"I said you won't be laughing very much if I just slipped it inside, huh?" His voice is condensing and so much like nothing you've ever heard him sound like before. "What? Nothing to say?" You almost want to laugh at how dominant he's trying to be. A smile slips, and you immediately feel his grip on your throat tighten deliciously. "I know you're wet. Even through the water, I know you're turned on. You know how I know that?" He questions.

"How, Harry?" You whisper, eyes drifting to his lips every few seconds.

"Because I'm your best fucking friend. Isn't that right, Y/N?" He laughs sadistically, and the heat between your legs grows.

"You're more," You say and grip his arm that's holding your neck. You run your fingers gently up and down his arm, trying to break his dominance, and it works.

"My precious girl," He whispers, eyes drowsier and heart beating faster. His hand moves to hold the side of your face instead, and now it's your opportunity to take dominance over him. Your hand now wraps around his throat, tighter than he was holding yours. A gasp slips through his submissive lips.

"Don't think that with a little bit of choking I'll be falling submissive to you. You're still very, very bad," You clarify. He whimpers and nods his head, lips puckered. "What's with the pout?"

"I want- I wanna-"

"What? Spit it out."

"A kiss," He whispers, face inching closer to yours.

"A kiss?" You laugh. "I don't want your shared lips anywhere close to my untouched ones."

"Y/N," He cries, face ducking into your shoulder. He lightly nips at the crook of your neck.

"Hey! Knock it off, wolf boy," You both laugh.

"Then let me fucking kiss you. I've waited so, so, so long," He whines, head hitting the wall of the tub in dramatics.

"Should've waited a little longer, and it would've been my lips on yours, not someone else, huh?" You taunt.

"Thought you wanted to forget about it," He complains.

"I do, but you shouldn't get off without any teasing," You explain. He huffs and nods his head. "C'mon, let's get out. The water's getting cold."

Once you're both out and dried off, you lead him into your bedroom and onto your bed. Neither of you bother to put on clothes as the sexual tension is high. You sit on the side as you watch him approach you.

"Y/N," He mumbles, standing above you with hunger and pleading in his eyes. "I want to touch you," He begs.

"Do you deserve to?" You question. He huffs a whine and falls to his knees in front of you. His head falls to your knees. "Harry-"

"Please," He begs, his hands circling your calves to keep a hold on you. You're at a loss of what to do. No man has ever actually gotten on his knees and begged for you. Your hands find his hair and thread lightly through it. He basically purrs and moves his head farther up to your thighs. Your breath shakes as you feel him breathe into your thighs. "Please," He begs again, drawing out the word longer this time. When he thinks he's caught you off guard, his head moves farther up, and his hands separate your thighs. You gasp and right as his tongue is about to make contact with your pussy, your grabbing his hair by the roots and yanking him away as far as he'd let. He's still incredibly close, and you can feel him panting against you.

"Nice try, slut," You breathe and tug on his roots again.

"Just let me please you," He pleads, voice gruff.

"Don't act like you're doing this just to please me. Know you're just a starved man trying to get what he wants," You correct him.

"Fuck it, so I'm selfish. I don't care," He says, his voice getting stronger. When you don't let up, he goes for what he wants again. He snatches your wrists in his hand and holds them against your stomach, and before you can shut your thighs, he's pushing his face in between them, finally getting what he's wanted for years.

"Harry!" You moan loudly, trying to get your hands from his hold, but it's no use. He won't let you win this time, and you submit to the pleasure he's giving you willingly. He feels you release your tension and smiles against you.

"Good girl. Just enjoy it," He mumbles and dives back in. He lets go of your wrists and spreads your thighs apart even farther, making you scooch back on the bed to give him more access. His tongue is everywhere all at once, and the noises he's making makes it seem as if he's enjoying it more than you.

"That's so fucking good," You moan as he sucks your clit into his mouth and nips on it gently. Having never done this before, he's going off of his animalistic desires, and it feels heavenly. He's just doing what his instincts tell him to. His tongue moves farther down to your soaking hole, and he pushes it in as far as it can go and circles it inside of you, his nose pressed into your clit as he shakes his head vigorously side-to-side. "Holy shit, you're insane," You cry and fall back against your bed.

"Take it," He grunts and somehow opens your legs farther.

"You're crazy," You laugh in pleasure and place your hands in his hair again. He's grunting and moaning, and the vibrations add to the bliss you feel. He laps around your entrance for a minute before going back to your clit and flicking it fast with his tongue. You almost lose it completely when you feel one of his fingers tease your entrance. Your eyes meet his, and you nod in silent agreement. He doesn't waste a second before pushing it slowly into you, his eyes widening at the feeling.

"Fuck, it's tight," He moans.

"Think about it being your big dick instead," You moan, and he whines. "Make me cum, and I'll think about letting you put it in," You stutter and relish in whatever he gives you.

"Fuckin' watch me," He grunts and doubles down. He suddenly adds another finger and doesn't give you time to adjust before rapidly pushing it in and out of you with his tongue still flicking against your clit.

"Fuck, baby." Your moans are uncontrollable, and you feel your stomach tightening in euphoria. It feels stronger than anything you've ever felt, and you try to push the crazed man away.

"Don't you fucking dare," He practically growls when you try to push him away by the forehead.

"It's too m-much," You moan and continue to try to slow him down with a weak attempt.

"C'mon, angel. You're about to cum. Just take it," He encourages you and gets back to work.

"H-Harry, I think I'm gonna-" You're cut off by a loud moan escaping your lips and the dam breaks. You're squirming away from him, but he doesn't let you go as you orgasm. You feel as though you see through space and time as you cum because has ever felt so good but so strong. He takes all that you give him and doesn't let up. Luckily, his hands now hold on strongly to your hips because the extra penetration was almost too much to enjoy.

He always knows exactly what you need.

His tongue slows as you come down, but it never leaves.

"Harry, please, let me breathe," You weakly laugh and once again try to push him away, but he grunts in return.

"Let me finish," You hear him mumble. His tongue moves to your leaking hole and licks up whatever he can find, letting nothing go to waste. "Tastes fucking incredible," He moans. "Can't believe you've been keeping this from me. Greedy woman," He slurs.

"Enough," You whine and move away from him, closing your legs. He groans and moves to kiss his way up your body instead. "You've done that before," You accuse him.

"No, just dreamt of it for so long," He corrects and kisses your cheek. You slightly spread your legs to let him lay on top of you. The feeling of his weight on top of you feels incredible. He allows you to calm down and continues to pepper kisses against you.

"It's your turn," You smile against his forehead and press a quick kiss to it before flipping you both over. You lay on the bed on your side, facing him and gawk at the sight in front of you. His dick is practically weeping, and your mouth waters in excitement. It's perfect. It's long and thick and incredibly hard. The biggest you've seen by far.

"Don't want you to do anything you're uncomfortable with or don't want to do," He whispers shyly, and you want to laugh at how quick he becomes submissive.

"Trust me, I want to," You assure him. "Look how pretty you are," You mumble and press a kiss to his jaw as you run your fingers lightly up and down his stomach. He blushes furiously and juts his lips out, aching for a kiss. You smile instead and gently run your fingers around his cock. He gasps in surprise and moans sweetly. You kiss all around his stomach as you begin to jerk him off slowly- really making him feel everything.

"It's so good, oh my God," He moans.

"Yeah?" You ask, and he nods his head, eyes clouded with submission.

"Let me put it in," He whimpers, and you laugh.

"So needy," You whisper and give him a harsh squeeze that makes him moan loudly. You're glad he's not shy about the noises he makes. It's so hot.

"What if it's just the tip?" He pleads. "I'll just put the tip in. Just wanna feel you- be close," He's babbling almost incoherently, and you shush him quietly.

"I guess that's okay. Just the tip, though," You remind him and lay on your back, signaling for him to lay over you. He does so quickly and takes his cock in his hand. He runs it all over your pussy to get himself wet and teases your entrance with the head. You squeeze his jaw in your fingers to grab his attention. "Just the tip."

"Yes, yes, okay," He rushes out. He meets your eyes, and you nod your head encouragingly. He breathes heavily before pushing just barely in.

Even the tip is a stretch.

"Oh my God," He cries into your neck, and you rub his back soothingly as you try to contain yourself. "Please, just a little more," He begs.

"Don't be greedy," You stutter, and this feels more like a punishment for the both of you. He groans and bites onto your shoulder to hold himself still. The primal need to sink into your tight, warm, wet pussy is high, and he doesn't know how much longer he can do it. He moves his hips slightly so the tip slides out. He rubs it over you again, slapping your clit lightly with it before pressing the head of it into you again. He pleases the two of you like this for a minute.

The thing is, his cock is so big it's hard to tell how much he's giving you. Even the tip is so thick that it feels like he's pushing a few inches in, so when you're suddenly gasping out because his pelvis is flush against you, it takes you by surprise. And it takes you more by surprise when you hear his loud moan after finally being all the way inside of you and then feel his heavy load spurting far into you.

"Holy fuck," He's moaning uncontrollably, and you're just laying there in awe. You watch as he orgasms and sit watching him until he comes down. You don't even have the heart to continue punishing him anymore as you see the tears running down his cheeks. You hug him into your neck and softly moan as he allows his weight to press against you. "'M'sorry," He whispers. "Want to make you feel good too."

"You've already done so, so good, Harry."

"No, just give me a minute. I'll be ready to go again," He assures you.

"Okay," You giggle and already gasp at feeling him hardening inside you again.

"Just run your fingers through my hair, angel," He whispers, and you follow his orders. He was right. You feel his cock hard as rock inside of you again in no time.

"You too sensitive, or can you keep going?" You ask, making sure he's okay to continue.

"Please, I can go all night," He says cockily, giving you a sly smile. He lifts himself up a bit so he can start moving in and out of you slowly and sensually.

"Oh, God, it's so good," You cry, feeling so full of him. "You're so big- fucking everywhere."

"I know, baby, just take it for me," He whispers lovingly and presses a kiss to your cheek. He's not sure if you still don't want him to kiss you, so he makes due.

"Harry, God, please kiss me," You whine.

"A-are you sure?" He pants. He's trying so hard not to cum again.

"Yes, yes, yes," You plead and cup his cheeks. He leans down, softly placing his lips against yours, and it feels like both of your worlds stop. He's still moving slowly in and out of you, and it adds to the sensuality of the moment. Nothing's ever felt so good, and both of you are both stunned by the intensity of the moment. He finally has to part for air, but you're whining and trying to pull him back. He notices tears running down your cheeks, and he stops his movements.

"Hey, hey. Y/N, are you okay?" He asks, voice filled with concern.

"So good," You assure him. "Just- it's so intense," You cry and wrap your arms around him.

"I know, sweet girl. I feel it too," He whispers, a tear leaking from his eye onto your cheek, and you both smile. He starts moving again when he has your consent, and it feels like the intensity is making you both start to approach your orgasms. He leans down to kiss you again and starts moving a bit faster.

"Harry," You continue to moan.

"Fuck, I love you. Can I say it now? My cock is deep inside you, so I guess it's okay, huh?"

"Oh, God. I love you too," You cry and feel his cock throb inside you. "I'm gonna cum."

"Me too," He whispers and connects your lips once again as you both orgasm simultaneously. It's like nothing either of you have ever felt before, and it makes it that much stronger.

He lies down on top of you once you've both finished. You're both panting heavily.

"I belong to you," He whispers and circles his arms around your waist.

"I'm yours," You whisper back.

#harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles

822 notes · View notes

astraltrickster · 10 months

Text

I want to introduce a disability concept that I've been calling paradoxical stigma.

What is paradoxical stigma? It's the stigma against:

1) The actually disabling traits of a disability that's in the spotlight for the parts of it that are convenient to accommodate, and/or

2) The diagnosis of such a disability itself,

Due to the assumption that the spotlight renders it "destigmatized" and no longer in need of support.

As of right now, at least around this corner of the internet, the most obvious examples of this are autism and ADHD. It's become disturbingly common for people to treat those like Diet Disabilities That Don't Actually Count. It's been really interesting to watch the popular attitude about these disorders shift from "autism is either a tragedy or an excuse depending on 'severity', and ADHD is just a myth used to drug kids into complicity instead of teaching them actual skills", to "actually these are real disorders that affect people in all aspects of their lives", to "I GUESS they're real disorders but honestly EVERYONE has them can't we worry about more SERIOUS ones?" and...not in a good way.

It comes up...partially as a legitimate backlash to people with these disorders who think that invisible disability and/or neurodivergence begins and ends at their experience, and...yeah, that's a problem all right, in fact if I had a dollar for every asshole who looked at my struggles with things like keeping my space clean or not fucking up my medication doses DUE TO ADHD and went "well I have the same diagnosis and I don't have THAT problem to THAT extent, obviously you're just lazy and careless", or saw me having an AUTISTIC meltdown and called it "bullying" or worse because I get loud and insisted that I NEED to CONTROL that CHOSEN BEHAVIOR if I want to not be a Bad Person, or heard about how AUTISTIC overstimulation defense measures play into my trouble with cleaning and insisted that well THEY'RE autistic too and don't have that specific problem so this is clearly weaponized helplessness because I just don't WANT to learn to do better, I'd...probably have a lot more assistive tech. I also get really, really frustrated and upset when people use RSD to mean "if you ever criticize me that's the height of ableism, no matter how much I'm actually fucking up and hurting you" - especially since it's so often invoked as a defense against being lightly criticized for ACTUALLY harmful behavior and as much as it sucks there IS no substitute to make that more emotional-dysregulation-friendly beyond basic kindness in criticism. That attitude exists. It's bad.

And yet, theoretically, I think we could all agree that the response to that should NEVER be to reinvent the old "ugh, those aren't REAL disabilities, those are just EXCUSES that LAZY PARENTS make for kids being kids, what they need is DISCIPLINE" stereotype of the 90s-2000s, just now aimed at those same kids as adults, in ostensibly supportive spaces - or arguably worse, to revert all our understanding of support needs to the externally judged high-functioning/low-functioning dichotomy.

What really sets this apart as paradoxical stigma, rather than just garden-variety lateral ableism, is that 1) we CAN theoretically all agree that reinventing those stereotypes is a terrible response, yet many people do it anyway, and 2) these stereotypes are invoked not only because of that intracommunity misbehavior, but both within and outside of disabled spaces, because of the illusion that you can bring up those disorders and have them taken seriously because fidget toys and stim videos and weighted blankets are popular now. An event having quiet rooms, or backlash to Autism Speaks being visible outside of autistic spaces, will be taken as "proof" that autism stigma is over forever and anyone who complains about it is just a whiner who doesn't know how good they have it...even when what they're complaining about is, say, being barred from migration. Paradoxical stigma is enacted by people who think that they, alone, are standing up against someone who's throwing others under the bus to continue to progress their own limited agenda...when in fact they're speaking a very popular shitty opinion, that MANY of the people making that claim would disagree with HEAVILY once separated from the "crab bucket reflex".

As a personal example, the result is that when I'm looking for assistance, I'm...hesitant to bring up those diagnoses, because I know I'm going to be written off as "obviously a high-functioning low-support needs scammer who just doesn't WANT to CONTRIBUTE TO SOCIETY and EARN things" - even by people who otherwise agree that people should be allowed to survive even if they truly are the living strawman lazy bum who has nothing wrong with them but just WANTS to lay around eating junk food and doing drugs all day, AND that disability deserves to be respected, isn't black-and-white, and affects everyone differently; somehow when these combine in the context of my diagnoses that have had a very sanitized version of themselves "destigmatized" on TikTok, they cancel out into blatant reactionary sentiment indistinguishable from what I'd hear from my shitty token Republican uncle.

So, that's paradoxical stigma. Feel free to use the term if you find it useful.

#disability #serious tag #and yes it is applicable to issues other than disability #if youre seeing parallels to this in how same-sex marriage passing nationwide in the us #was the beginning of a big downswing in support for queer rights because what ELSE could these entitled freaks POSSIBLY want #you are correct! they are VERY closely related! not quite identical because it wasnt almost equally intense within the community as outside #but i wouldnt call you wrong if you wanted to use the same term!#speaking of bringing back the high-functioning/low-functioning dichotomy - it is NOT lost on me #just how many people dont take me seriously as a Real Autist because im usually ''well-spoken''#therefore i CLEARLY cant have support needs that are hard to aestheticize right???#as if that kind of misconception isnt EXACTLY WHY we moved away from functioning labels in favor of discussing support needs

419 notes · View notes

adventuringblind · 10 months

Text

Daddy Issues Finale

Max Verstappen x reader

Genre: Angst and hurt/comfort

Request: no but they are open for Max, Charles, Lando, Oscar, and possibly Danny Ric if y’all have any ideas

Summary: Finally needing both fathers to leave you and Max alone, you start making steps towards going no contact to protect yourselves. Suddenly, the reader finds herself in an unlikely situation and once again finds herself dealing with their fathers.

Warnings: Read the title… it literally says daddy issues. Most forms of abuse are mentioned in this fic, so please proceed with caution. Sort of kidnapping. Reader is drugged. Also, this isn’t proofread because proofreading is hard, and I am lazy.

Notes: we’re back in third person! Also, the reader gets so fed up and becomes a slight menace. I totally was not expecting it to get this dark but here ya go!

Masterlist // Part one // Part two

Max was well aware he needed to do something about this situation. He just didn't know what yet.

It had been a few days since he found her on the floor. Eye's puffy and cheeks tear stained. He felt every bit of restraint he had snapped in him. He knew that logical thing to do was try to go no contact woth both fathers. But that didn't stop him from wanting to punch both for what they did to her.

He'd convinced her to get away for a while. So you headed out with Kika for some 'girl time' as she called it.

Max, on the other hand, was sat on the couch with Pierre, Lando, and Charles. Trying his best to give an explanation of what happened without getting to detailed.

They were nosey, though. So Max was bound to spill eventually.

"He hit her- twice."

The three other men stared at him in shock. Their mouths agape at what he'd just confessed.

"That explains her behavior when I picked her up from the airport." Lando sighed.

"What are you going to do about it, Mate?" Piqued Charles. His hand rubbing against his head to try and process what he'd just heard.

"I don't know yet if I'm being honest."

They all were aware of the bags under Max’s eyes. How his voice sounded so broken. He’d seemed so happy just last week. Thinking his father was finally going to let him breathe. Jos technically did, but he turned that frustration to you instead.

Yesterday Max was given her phone. She had set it in his lap and said everything he’d need to know was in your texts. One rule neither had ever broken was going through each others phones without permission. Both sides had parents that loved to invade privacy. So the two had come to the conclusion that they would communicate what they felt needed to be at that moment.

Y/N had struggled to talk about what happened the last few months. So she just gave Max her phone and let him read what had been texted to her. It was a little easier this way. He could get find what he’d needed to know and maybe get some questions answered and she didn’t have to struggle to get the words out.

“The things they’ve said to both of us are awful, but this a new extent of that.” His voice wavered. His friends doing their best to comfort him. They all knew it was bad. It was obvious after he started joking about it like it was normal. “We both have their numbers blocked. So hopefully that will keep them away for now.”

“Well your dad showed up at your door. Do you think he might do it again?” Pierre’s voice, albeit gentle, had an urgency about it.

Max groaned and flopped backwards further into the couch. The thought hitting him like a train. His dad could show up unannounced, again. “We’ll have to move.”

“There’s an open apartment in my building.” Lando quickly suggested. “We could have sleepovers!”

It didn’t take long for the two to get the apartment. Even less time for getting everything moved in. It wasn’t too far away from where they had been living, and everyone wanted to help get them out of there as quick as possible.

Everyone had agreed not give any ideas that they had moved. Privacy becoming important for the two lovers. Both stopped their online presence aside from Max’s professional one. He doesn’t even run that account, his PR manager does. He’d had a conversation with her talking about how he’d been having some safety issues.

The two were relieved when they made it to the next race with no parents in sight. Y/N however, was still on edge about sitting in the Redbull garage. Max was understanding about it and said he could see if Christian would let her sit by him to watch or maybe in the Alpine garage with Kika.

She went for the second option. Waiting until the very last second to give Max a kiss before the race. Then she made her way through the paddock to locate Kika.

She was so close to the safety of the Alpine garage. Close to being able to enjoy the race and watch Max do what he loves. Until a familiar face had her doubling back to the safety of Redbull. Or maybe nowhere was safe.

People were closing in on her. Her breath becoming increasingly restricted in her lungs. She needed to get back within eye shot of Christian. He knew some of what happened. Enough to know that if he saw Jos around the Redbull garage, to have him escorted away. He’d probably be busy though, and she didn’t want to distract anyone.

She did feel a little better after seeing Max in first on the screen. Her eyes leaving the path in front of her for a measly ten seconds. Only to find herself falling to the ground.

She gathered her bearings and made a move to get back on her feet. Until she felt a hand in her shoulder.

“It’s been awhile,” Came the voice of Jos Verstappen.

Max had an amazing race. He was excited to win, but he was also excited to find his lover. He didn’t see her during the podium celebration. Most likely due to the crowds. He’d try to locate her in the Alpine garage when he was don’t.

As he was walking around doing his media duties, he locked eyes with Pierre. Pierre who was holding hands with Kika. Kika who was supposed to be with you.

Max excused himself from the reporter and jogged up to his friend. “Kika, do you know where Y/N is?”

“No, sorry, I haven’t seen her all day. I thought she was with you since she hasn’t answered my texts.” She explained.

All three passed looks of confusion before they all became determined to find you.

Max was texting and calling you repeatedly. Praying that neither of your fathers had actually shown up. He finally ran into Christian who was trying to congratulate him on another win. Max, however, only hear the sound of you crying from his memories. Concern flooded through Christian as he watched Max delve further into the panic.

“Max? Are you alright? Can you tell me what’s going on?” He voice calm but urgent enough to get Max to come back to his senses. Now clinging to the sound. Using it to ground himself.

“She’s missing.” He breathed

“Who? Y/N.”

Max frantically began nodding his head. The desperation to find her clearly evident.

“I’ll ask around the garage if anyone has seen her. Why don’t you check your driver room and take a minute to breath.”

He didn’t want to take time to himself. He should be looking for his love. Christian made a point though, he wouldn’t be able to think rationally if he didn’t calm down.

Now he sits alone. Letting the tears escape. Still attempting to call her only to be greeted by the cheery voicemail recording.

When he’d calmed himself down and it didn’t feel like his head was spinning, he began his search one more. Retracing the possible path you might have taken to the Alpine garage.

It seemed everyone was searching high and low for her now.

There were only so many places you could be.

Max was startled by the sudden sound of his phone ringing in his pocket. Disregarding the caller ID, he simply answered “hello” without any hesitation.

“Is this Mr. Verstappen?” Asked an unfamiliar feminine voice.

“Yes, who am I speaking with?”

“This is a nurse from the general hospital.”

Everything after that was a blur. He hardly focused on the details. Only running back to his drivers room to find his rental car keys and his wallet.

He ran into Lando on the way. Making his best attempt at explaining while rushing around to grab his things. He hadn’t even bothered changing back into regular clothes yet.

“How about I drive and you change in the backseat.” Lando shot Max a wink and despite everything going on, Max managed a smile. At least he knows where she is now.

Everything happened in a whirlwind. One minute she was on her way to see Kika and the next she was gripped by the arm and told not to make a scene.

Her survival instincts kicked in. Knowing she should listen to the man who is determined to make her and Max’s lives miserable. He really needs a new hobby.

She wanted to scream as they passed by Redbull again, but something in her stopped her lungs from doing so. ‘Why is defending someone you love easier than defending yourself?’ She thinks to herself as the two exit the paddock entirely.

It doesn't take long until Jos is shoving her into the back seat. She complies, knowing he's unpredictable.

When she finally is in the car, she notices the figure on the drivers side starting the car.

Her father had come along too.

"Isn't this considered kidnapping?" She asks sarcastically. The car pulling put and starting the journey to an unknow destination.

Neither of them speak. It's unsettling and eerie.

She wanted Max. She needed Max. She knew if she wasn't back before race end that he would be frantic.

They'd tried so hard to be safe and private at the same time. Maybe they should have just made a public statement. Now, everyone was going to find out in the most dramatic way possible.

"Are you going to murder me?"

"No, now shut up, or I will." Spits Jos.

"I would if just told me where we're going." She shrugs. Knowing she's making them aggravated.

If Jos hadn't taken her phone, this would be a very different situation. She curses whoever made women's pockets so small.

"Fine, if you need to know so bad, im taking you home. Far away from Max. Back where you belong." Her Father shouts. Knuckles are turning white from gripping the steering while so hard. "You two are bad influences on each other. You tell each other lies about your families! I've done some research, and I think maybe you're hallucinating. I'm taking you home where you can get help." He explains.

This time, she didn't say anything. The tears weren't stopping. You knew your father had said things like this before about your mom. Going as far as to try and get her diagnosed with any kind of mental disorder that fit.

It never worked because she never had symptoms of anything he was suggesting. How was he expecting to make it work this time?

The answer came sooner than expected. A moment she slipped into the back of her head to escape left her open and vulnerable.

A needle was jammed into her leg by Jos. A cold feeling spreading through her body. She had no idea what it was. Only that it wasn't good and she needed to get out of this car.

The adrenaline from her flight instincts kicked in, and her breathing picked up. They were on a slower street. One lined with small shops and pedestrians. If she was going to jump, now was her chance.

Without thinking, she opens the door and launches herself towards the sidewalk. The people around either running away or running to help her.

She vaguely remembers someone asking what happened and if they should call somone.

"Max" was the only thing she could get out before tumbling into the darkness.

Max rushs inside the emergency room. Lando dropped him right outside the door before trying to hunt down a parking spot.

"How can I help you?" Asks the nurse. A little startled by his sudden appearance.

'I'm looking for someone."

It didn't take long before he was being led back to where they had been keeping her.

Relief flooding through his veins when he layed eyes on her. Trying and struggling to sip water through a straw.

Her eyes went wide when she saw him. Flinging the blanket off and swinging her legs over the side like she would just walk to him.

He rushed over to her and gently laid her back down. Her pupils are blown, and her body is swaying side to side. Confusion takes hold of Max. "What happened to her?" He asks the nurse.

"She has a minor fracture in her wrist and a gash on her knee from the impact of the sidewalk. We're still running tests to see the specific drugs in her system, but we do know for sure she was drugged." The nurse explains.

Max feels his stomach lurch. "I don't understand. What happened to her?"

"My apologies, I thought the authorities had spoken to you already. I'll send them in to explain."

Max's head is reeling. The love of his life was drugged, and who knows what else. It doesn't matter what any reporter says. He's getting extra security.

Tears slip from his eyes as he holds you. "I'm sorry, love."

"Why are you sorry, Maxy? You're here." She slurs. A smile graced her lips despite the situation.

The sound of heavy boots makes Max look up. The girl on the bed is now entertaining himself with his fingers.

"Are you family?" The officer asks.

"Yeah."

"We should step outside."

Max got up from his place beside her on the bed. She looked at him, tears welling in her eyes. Struggling to comprehend what was happening.

"I'll be right back." He soothed her. Placing a kiss on the top of her head.

Max followed the officer outside and closed the door behind him.

"We have reason to believe she was kidnapped. Witnesses told us she jumped out of a moving car and then almost immediately passed out."

Max's mind went in so many directions at once. How could this have happened? How did nobody notice?

The officer opened a manilla envelope and slid out two pictures. "These are the suspects who we caught trying to get her back in the cat. Do you recognize them?"

Max's hand flew to his face. He couldn't get words out. He was about to sink to his knees before Lando came around the corner. Seeing him about to buckle and reflexivley running up to him. Lando pratically catchs the Dutchman and helps him get steady on his feet again.

Lando tries to get his bearings. He was about to ask Max what happened when he notices the officer and, more importantly, the pictures.

"Isn't that your dad, Max?" Max just shakes his head yes. Releived Lando is there to say what he's trying to.

Lando leans in closer, the officer surprised at the action and almost pulling away. He stops, however, at Lando's next words. "And isn't that Y/N's father?"

It didn't take them long to have the young woman discharged from the hospital. Lando driving the two home and helping check the apartment for any potential threats.

The two males could tell she was feeling awful. The doctors flushed her system with water and put a cast on the fracture. The two were exhausted.

Lando said his goodbyes and told Max to call if they needed anything. including someone to stand guard.

Max had texted everyone on the ride home that she was back safe.

A new question on his mind: What happens now? Both your fathers had been taken into custody. Mainly on the charge of kidnapping. But the officer said they could testify and get them put away for longer.

Could the two of you manage that? The side of him that wanted to make his father happy said he should go bail him out. On the other hand, the two would finally he safe. No more anxieties about awful parental figures doing unwarranted things.

Both could start to finally get the healing they deserve.

It took some time, but both came to the conclusion to prosecute. The day of the trail came far to quickly for you to prepare.

There was supposed to be a race this weekend, but it had been postponed until later in the evening due to many of the racers wanting to testify.

When both were found guilty, the couple started crying. The thought of being free from the awful cloud looming over them finally set in.

Nether of them could believe is was this good.

When Max won the race later, it was the most emotional either had ever been. Max let himself be proud of his achievements.

Months later, the two had begun to heal. A slow process. Both are patient and understanding with each other. Trying to communicate as much as possible. Finding outside help to help guide them.

Security at the paddock had gotten better. She never felt vulnerable. Mainly because someone was always with her, and Christian let her sit next to him during races. He'd joked, saying that you already look like you belong there, so he might as well just give you a job.

And as the two lovers lie in bed together, they reminisce. How their daddy issues brought them together.

373 notes · View notes

alwaysgodownwiththeship · 9 months

Text

"Got Any Better Ideas?" Aziraphale's Conviction and Crowley's Resignation

I was watching that scene in 1x06 again, and something clicked for me that never any sense to me before. In fact, it explained a couple things in season 2 .

See this scene is beautiful, heartbreaking, and hilarious all in one. We see yet another example of how much Crowley cares about Aziraphale... And we see Aziraphale making a bizarre move to (?) attack Crowley, then make a childish threat that won't matter given that they're both about die.

Before, I just assumed that he was just saying whatever thought ran through his head.

Now I get it.

Recap: Crowley realized that Gabriel and Beelzebub told on them Satan. Satan, who was now coming to kill them all. Crowley was this close to giving up, and then Aziraphale picked up his sword.

There's only one reason why: Aziraphale wasn't going to give up. In that moment, Aziraphale chose to fight Satan. He knew he would likely die trying.

(Psst! Past self: He's not giving Crowley some weird, friendship ultimatum!)

He's terrified. But resolved. And he knows this really will be their last conversation.

And Crowley gets it. He might not have believed that they were going to survive Satan's arrival, but he hadn't quite put together like this: If he isn't able to come up with another plan, Aziraphale will take up his sword against Satan and Crowley will have to watch him die.

So Crowley got a better idea, remembering Adam's power, he decided to give the human(s) the choice and protect it alongside Aziraphale.

Season 2

This is part of larger ongoing dynamic where (unless circumstances allow Crowley to give Aziraphale a better plan which actually addresses the problem) Aziraphale will act, like choosing to help Jim!Gabriel. If he thinks it's the right thing to do, he'll do it, regardless of the costs. It won't deter him at all.

Crowley learned that about him some time ago.

He saw Aziraphale lie to save Lot's children despite fully expecting to go hell for it.

(Plus Aziraphale straight up lied to God about the flaming sword that time, right? UMM... Why didn't he fall????)

So there Crowley is, apologizing(?), dancing, and lying about the full extent of the danger they're in.

I don't agree with Crowley's actions, with the lying especially. (Seriously, Crowley? Tell Aziraphale about the Extreme Sanctions!!) But Crowley is resigned to help at this point because he knows Aziraphale will be in danger anyways and he knows that when Aziraphale has made his mind up, he won't change it. Crowley can only offer his help or provide a different solution.

And since their communication problems are so big right now, their dynamic is to work around each other rather than with each other.

Right from the very beginning, their conception of the problem is very different.

Crowley: We're exposed to danger because of Gabriel, we have to find a way to hide Gabriel/ourselves from Heaven and Hell.

Aziraphale: Jim!Gabriel (innocent like Lot's children/rather childlike himself) is in danger, we have to find a way to hide Gabriel from Heaven and Hell.

TAKEAWAY

-Crowley wants them both to stay away from the toxic plans of Heaven/Hell so they can be safe together.

-Aziraphale wants to directly interfere with the plans of Heaven/Hell when he feels the responsibility to do good.

Takeaway on the ending of season 2:

When their perspective on the problem is so different to begin with, the breakup makes a little more sense to me. Though no less horrible.

(Wild Card: Heaven is the symbol of what is right and good? Aziraphale since when??? UGH, I have to meta more about this: Aziraphale's (and Crowley's) belief in the ineffable plan and how it affects his idea of reform/fixing the institutional problem of Heaven.)

#good omens #good omens meta #aziraphale #crowley #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #aziraphale defense squad #aziraphale meta

401 notes · View notes

esamastation · 6 months

Text

Part forty-two of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty, forty-one

The Turks have arranged everything. Sort of. The charcoal burner's house is long abandoned and remote, not close to any main routes, so it would be private. In the books, both Sephiroth and Angeal are taking part in a classified mission with the Turks, which has been approved by both the Director of the SOLDIER program and the Acting Director of the Turks. It would take someone higher up in the Public Security Department to delve deeper than that, and since the President had already given his seal of approval, there's not much even Heidegger can do about it.

"And Rude is bringing everything we'll need to survive," Reno finishes. "Starting today, your priority is sorting out whatever is going on with you, free of distractions, external stressors and hopefully of further incidents."

Sephiroth still seems to be stuck on the getting his shit together part of the mission and apparently isn't sure whether to be insulted or not.

Angeal clears his throat. "And what are we supposed to… do, exactly?"

"Hell if I know," Reno shrugs and nods at Sephiroth. "Figure you'd sort it out by yourself, with your new spooky… whatever it is you got going on. You seem to have some idea."

"Uh," Sephiroth answers.

Eloquent.

Angeal runs a hand down his face. Then he laughs. "Okay, I have to admit. I'm impressed. I didn't really think you'd do anything, but - I'm impressed." And more than slightly intimidated by the connections and liberties the Turks have, but that's not exactly new. "How long do we have?"

"Until further notice, or until someone back in Midgar gets antsy," Reno shrugs. "I'm thinking maybe don't worry about time. If you need more, we will arrange some."

Huh. "This is really that important, then?"

Reno gives Sephiroth a look and then looks at Angeal. "Yeah," he says, a deceptively easy answer.

That's… somehow a little disconcerting. Certainly Sephiroth is invaluable to the program and to the company, but this… this is beyond VIP treatment.

"I see," Angeal murmurs and clears his throat.

Sephiroth finally shakes himself loose from his surprise, enough to look first somewhat sheepish - and then intrigued. "So, I can do whatever I want here?"

"Pretty much," Reno agrees, without any care for how alarming the question is. "And if you need something to further your whatever, we'll get it for you."

"Nice. And there will be no other missions if I don't want to do them right now?" Sephiroth asks.

"You can do them or not as you'd like - none of them have higher priority than this, and they can be delegated to other people, if it comes to that."

Sephiroth runs a hand over his chin. "And if I want access to some material that might be to some extent classified?"

Reno narrows his eyes. "Like what?"

"Haven't decided yet," Sephiroth answers flippantly. "But it might come up."

"... Great. We'll review case by case when we come to it," Reno mutters. "Though you know it's a bitch to get stuff shipped here, right? We're on another continent."

"Yes, yes, it's very impressive," Sephiroth says dismissively and thinks about something for a moment. Then he looks at the charcoal burner's house with a discerning eye. "And you'll be staying here too?" he then asks, glazing at Reno. "To watch us?"

Reno shrugs, unapologetic.

Sephiroth eyes him for a moment and then turns back to the house. "Very well. It will do."

"... Awesome," Reno says and motions. "Go, make yourselves comfortable or whatever. I'm going to walk the perimeter and set some traps."

"Mmhmm," Sephiroth answers, already striding back into the house with a proprietor's casual confidence, and Angeal can just imagine the furniture soon to be rearranged inside.

He hesitates before following and looks at Reno. "What is this really about? It's not just that Sephiroth lost control, is it?"

Reno considers him. "Well, duh, no," he says. "It's the stuff he's been saying in between."

And the abilities he seems to be on the verge of developing. "What's the official view on what's happening to Sephiroth?" What are they expecting from him?

"There isn't one," Reno says and arches his brows meaningfully, and then turns to go.

Angeal's face tightens, and he knows he probably doesn't understand the implications… but then maybe he does. All this effort and all the stuff that's been going on… whatever it is, the company is looking forward to benefiting from it greatly. And they want no one messing with what is happening before they do.

Angeal thinks of the moment Sephiroth communed with the old tree the day before, and for a moment he really wishes it was Genesis here with him instead. Genesis would actually know how to handle all of this. Angeal isn't even sure if he can ask Genesis about this, if he can talk to him about this!

Never mind the fact that Genesis probably has his hands full with whatever is happening back at Shinra Building… the aftermath of Sephiroth's incident and whatever Professor Hojo was doing…

Angeal turns to head inside.

… Where Sephiroth has begun poking around the house, and, of course, is already moving furniture around.

"I see you are all for this," Angeal comments.

"I'll take all the extra time I can get," Sephiroth mutters while carrying a little table to the middle of the main room. "Though I am not exactly happy about being under Turk supervision, I'll take it over the alternative."

Angeal hums, looking around and then deciding that Sephiroth probably doesn't need - or want - his help in decorating. "What's the alternative?"

Sephiroth grimaces and goes to move a bookshelf.

Okay then. Ominous. Angeal sighs and sets the Buster Sword down to lean against the wall near the door, right beside Masamune. "You know they expect something to come from this. For you to… to make it worth their while."

Sephiroth half laughs and half scoffs. "I just bet they do," he agrees and picks up somewhat dusty cushions and considers them with a frown.

Angeal folds his arms. "Are you going to?" he then asks, worried.

Sephiroth pauses and looks away, dropping the cushions by the table in the middle. "No," he says finally. "I don't imagine I will. Regardless," he shakes his head. "This is the next best thing to a full-on seclusion, and I am damn well going to make the most of it."

Angeal doesn't know what that means, but it doesn't matter. "Okay," he says and draws a breath. "Guess we'll… just stay here for the time being, then."

Sephiroth hums in agreement. "Guess so. Does it bother you?"

"No more than anything else around Wutai," Angeal admits and looks up at the ceiling. "We were already looking forward to a prolonged stay in someone's abandoned home. This place is honestly an improvement."

Sephiroth relaxes a little. "Yeah. And hey, the people here weren't chased out or killed by Shinra. That's something."

Angeal looks at him curiously. "How do you know that?"

"The original owner left a scrap piece of letter behind. Apparently they were invited to the capital," Sephiroth says.

… Sephiroth reads the Wutai language? Huh. Angeal didn't know that.

"I guess that's good to know," he says and then sighs. "Okay, so. This… thing you're doing. Your energy alignment stuff. Is there anything I can do to help? What do you need?"

Sephiroth hesitates between moving some jars around and looks at him. "I need a proper cleared training area," he says and offers him a wry smile. "At least as big as the training room back at Shinra Building."

"I can do that, yeah," Angeal says. "Anything else?"

Sephiroth thinks about it for a moment before setting the jars back down. "I'll let you know."

Angeal nods and gets to it. There's not much he can do when Sephiroth refuses to trust him, but… he'd do what he could.

Hopefully by the end of it, it would be enough.

Time for a training montage.

#Fanfiction #ffvii #Ff7 #svsss #angeal hewley #sephiroth #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #reno of the turks

308 notes · View notes

simplydnp · 29 days

Note

hey there!

I kind of consider you the resident dnp expert (at least in dnp culture) so I wanted your opinion on a question that's been building for a while now.

What are the boundaries for dnp now?

There are so many things that I feel have changed even in the last four years: writing smutty rpf was Gross and Weird, along with art along that line, speculating about their relationship was ABSOLUTELY a no-go, all things that I see happening on Tumblr now. And I'm not saying that's a bad thing!! I'm just acknowledging things have changed over time. They're different people now and so are we, and the "we know you know" era is lots of fun.

I was browsing reddit today (bad idea, do not recommend) and came across a post from a new Phannie asking if DnP were in a relationship. And while I agree that we cannot say for absolute certain that they are, the responses had a VERY different vibe than on here, emphasizing how bad the speculation was (true) and essentially saying "don't even think about that, just enjoy their content." (or something to that extent.)

Which... is very different from this here website in which we joke about them being horney for each other constantly lmao.

Being a very rules-driven person, I like expectations to be made abundantly clear for pretty much everything. So that's why I want to ask: Is there a line here? Are we crossing that line? How defined is that line? (All of this, of course, I recognize is your opinion and yours alone, and if this is posted I encourage anyone else to share their two-cents in a respectful way.)

Obviously, trying to find out where they live/things like that is very clearly crossing a boundary. But is there some sort of limit or boundary I (and tbh the rest of the phandom), in your opinion, should be keeping in mind?

thanks xx

hi!

'resident expert' is a hefty title, i'm just here trying my best!

'what are the boundaries for dnp now?' is really a great question. cause the thing is, we used to know. there used to be a fairly well-defined and mostly agreed upon line, and ever since the dapg revival in particular, the line keeps moving.

i'll be honest, i never really saw phanfic as rpf, even though it is. my stance on phanfic is the same as dnps: it's a beautiful expression of art and creativity and is so, so important. they've always been pro-fic (even though we subjected them to some absolutely horrific crack fics), so i don't think 'smutty' fic has ever been gross or too far. they've given their blessing, and, as the conversation has been in fandom communities the last few years, rpf isn't 'for' the people in them, it's for the fans. so i digress.

art is much the same way. they love art! they even included art of them kissing in a tumblr tag video back in the day, so to say that's not allowed especially after they're out is kind of crazy to me.

i think the line with stuff like that was showing it directly to dnp--tagging them in explicit stuff, that kind of thing. but creating it? go for it! it's always been a green light. (i think fans have previously overpoliced this and we lost a lot of great fic, art, and community members over it)

browsing reddit is always a Choice. i've never participated on dnp reddit before but i am aware that it is an entirely different space than here. something that's important, i think (and i think you think this too as you're asking about them), is to respect the fandom rules of the place you partcipate in. tumblr is generally one of the most phan-positive places on the internet, especially publicly facing. we make a lot of relationship jokes, particularly because we run on the assumption it's already true, based on what they've both said publicly (mostly dan).

i won't comment on reddit specifically just because i'm not a part of the community there, but the speculation about dnp online was a Lot for a long time. but the worst part of it was the stalking, the digging into personal lives, the contacting family members--that is what was bad. dnp have always had a connection--and, honestly, they kind of love flexing it and kind of always have. they absolutely play into things now, but they certainly did even way before coming out too. i think a certain level of speculation was to be expected, especially in that era of online fandom. but it wasn't just the 'teenage girls' who cared, the media did too, and so did many others.

i think one of the biggest differences now is 1 the awareness of 'our' past and trying to make up for it, and 2 the broader societal conversations about parasocial relationships.

you see this reflected on the snippets ive seen from dnp reddit and dnp twitter. they tend to be Very 'cautious' about the words they say, often undercutting perfectly reasonable statements with 'but whatever their relationship is'. on one hand, they don't want to cross a line, and i can respect that. on the other hand... it's 2024 babes. they just put out merch of them holding hands. dan's directly, intentionally, and explicitly called phil a bottom on dapg. they reacted to all of the pinofs, made jokes about 'theyre touching', and even joked about the tackle being 'wrestling 👀'. dan posted half-naked catboy pics and showed us phil was taking them. the 'watch your step babygirl' tweet & their reactions to it. phil is credited in WAD. they're making threesome jokes about themselves as a unit. i could go on and on.

to me, there's a few things that have 'moved the line' for us, so to speak.

1 - DAPG returning. for the last few years they specifically were not a duo (for projects) anymore. (and no, not because they hated each other). they just weren't. they wanted to focus on their goals and projects. they didn't have to resurrect dapg, but they chose to. marketing and money aside, they knew that if this went over well, it would well and truly revive the 'dan and phil' brand again. it would be specifically returning to being a duo in the public eye. (however they've also fully embraced this in all aspects, including merch, videos, and general attitude)

2 - pinof reacts. even though they'd been out since 2019, we hadn't had regular joint content from them since before that, therefore, while they had become more comfortable with themselves and their 'outness', we hadn't (in terms of them making explicit gay jokes together). so i really think dnp had to de-fang a lot of the 'theyre touching' of it all, because we didn't really know where we stood on it anymore. i think they succeeded, too. we couldn't be here, with the content of the last 3 months, without them tackling it head on (well, as head on as they're want to do).

3 - dapc. genuinely another big shift. they did this for the real fans. purely a passion project, and a specific choice in doing the handhold. they know what we're like. and this wasn't a brief, unplanned, unscripted moment. it's a specifically blocked out scene. they know it's opening a door, and they chose to. this is doubled by the fucking iconic merch selling, and furthered by phil's twitter likes of arguably romantic phanart, and then dan's full straddle like.

even throughout the current 6 months of revival, the line has moved. i don't know where it will settle. dnp keep moving it, in my opinion, and, genuinely, i don't think it's going to leave much to the imagination. as you say, obviously not the stalking or the contacting, but beyond that? especially here on tumblr? i wouldn't get too worried. obviously people will have their opinions, but as long as you're generally respectful and recognize that humans will see your posts and humans interact with them, i think you're good.

my rule of thumb is anything they intentionally put on the table, we can joke about or at the same level. but in terms of art/fic? go off, live your dreams. dan and phil would want you to.

#i didn't include a cut because people don't always look under them and this is generally a whole statement. feel free to add things.#there's specific discourse i dont partake in. doesnt mean you have to avoid it entirely. but just dont bring it up to dnp and you're fine.#dnp #dan and phil #phan #<- for the fandometrics #c.text #answered

98 notes · View notes