#oh and naturally maybe [sexuality?] questions re: say. having had a crush on someone who is sometimes Her sometimes Him could overlap here | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

girlwithonegoal · 6 months

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sorry but the only reason destiel even works is because wincest did it first and also better

i've been thinking a LOT about this and want to get it all out so here it is. if dean was truly in love with cas, he would not have hesitated to tell him so when he literally knew cas was about to DIE. we don't see that. we see shock, grief, disbelief (an angel loves me!), we see him trying desperately to process his best friend is leaving him but nowhere does dean say, or imply, with his eyes, or words, that he's in love with cas. of course he loves cas - cas is family - and cas is not exactly his brother, (closest is brother-in-arms), despite his insistence in an earlier episode - but he's not in the kind of soul-crushing love that cas is with him. he's not in love with cas, and can't be, because he's already in love with sam.

when dean dies, he gets as close as he possibly can to confessing to sam he's in love with him without actually crossing the line. he would never to that to sam - he would never do to sam what cas did to him - because he would NEVER do anything to make sam lose his agency (sidebar: not that cas doesn't respect dean. but his love confession is almost wish fulfillment - i'm going to confess to dean i love him and go out in a blaze of glory and then leave without dean ever even having to reciprocate because i know he doesn't love me back. and he's absolutely right).

dean has already had years and years of not having his own agency from john his whole fucking life! john did whatever he wanted to dean and dean took it because like hell was he going to subject sam to that bullshit. which brings us to sam and dean's childhood - not much is known of their early years before sam went to stanford and that's fully on purpose. we can almost see dean as not only a brother figure to sam but also a father figure. john leaving for weeks maybe even months at a time - how the hell did dean and sam manage to survive? by dean doing whatever he had to do. emphasis on whatever.

you see, john absolutely knows that dean is beautiful. whether you read their relationship as purely abusive or abusive with a sexual component - dean definitely did questionable things to get food on the table for sam, an aspect that's more in fanon that canon but reads true to the heart of the show. sam doesn't know because dean wanted a normal childhood for him. and dean would rather die and go to hell for 800 years than force sam to make a choice, make any choice, of a romantic and/or sexual nature related to him.

back to dean's death. this is again the closest thing to a love confession that dean can make - my baby brother - take out the word brother and it would be not only romantic but stunningly true - he raised sam, this child who grew up to be a man, this child who loves him - waiting outside sam's dorm for hours - can you picture him pacing in the snow, waiting for the one thing he wants but can't have??? why does that sound familiar? oh, right, because that's what cas said but in dean and sam's case it would be actually true. how cruel and unbelievably insane it is to find your soulmate in your brother, the one person you have that you love unconditionally, not just because they are your family but because you are in love with them, and you can never have them as long as you live.

re: american gothic and soulmatism. very different from crimson peak where thomas fully realizes the unhealthiness of the codependent incestuous relationship with his sister and wants to be free and happy with edith. but sam and dean don't want to be free. in their minds, they already are free as long as they have each other and only each other. not getting in all the other romantic relationships that the brothers have with other people bc it would take too long, but they already fulfill that need for each other and don't need anyone else...like i'm sorry i love my sister but i want to get married one day to someone else. if you read their relationship as purely platonic, it doesn't work at ALL.

the kripke early seasons fully leaned into the gothic horror aspect of it all and incest is definitely a part of that...dean and sam literally cannot live without each other. they can't do it! sam dies in dean's arms and dean can't even wait five fucking minutes without making a deal with a demon lmao. he can't eat. he can't sleep. their love is a perpetual resurrection; they keep killing each other and bringing each other back to life. because they don't know how to stop. they are a singular mangled fucked up entity. i read a fic once where the author described sam as hating his own body because it was separate from dean's and dean's whole presence was a phantom pain. and yeah. just yeah. they can't live without each other because they ARE each other.

seasons 1-3 to me are spn at its soul. that's it. cas only works as a side character, if he's a brother (like, purely platonically) to both sam and dean or just unrequited romantic love for dean. the trope of an angel falling in love with a faithless man who can't pray only works if dean hasn't been in love with sam the whole time.

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dynamics-of-an-asteroid · 3 years

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Dont suppose you have a copy of the interview you could share?

For you, dear anon~

His Dark Materials: Andrew Scott on life after Fleabag and Sherlock

We’ve loved him as both Fleabag’s Hot Priest and Sherlock’s menacing Moriarty. Now, he’s back on our screens in the new series of His Dark Materials. Polly Vernon talks to our TV crush

Andrew Scott is mortified. The actor – formerly Moriarty to Benedict Cumberbatch’s Sherlock, then the Hot Priest of Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s Fleabag, imminently Colonel John Parry in the BBC’s adaptation of Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials – arrives at the photographic studio, bang on the appointed hour, in a fawn cashmere cardigan with a fine gold chain around his neck, bemoaning “this terrible, terrible eye infection, which is making me so self-conscious. I’m so sorry. It isn’t that you’ve massively upset me before we’ve even started. It’s so annoying. But anyway…”

Scott, 44, is small, vivid, wiry and garrulously Irish, with a face that is not handsome so much as mesmerising, intense, sharply boned, symmetrical, startlingly expressive. Sequences of emotions so subtle and complicated that I can’t begin to identify or keep up with them ruffle his brow from moment to moment. And, yup, the whole thing is rather disrupted by his left eye. This is no light kiss of conjunctivitis. It’s a swollen, red, perma-weeping situation that engulfs the whole socket. Scott turns his face two thirds on to me, so the infection is largely hidden, which would probably help if we weren’t sitting in a brightly lit hair and make-up room with a massive, inescapable mirror fixed to one wall. “Oh God,” Scott says every time he catches sight of his reflection.

Stress?

“Let’s be honest,” he says. “Let’s not skirt around the issue. It’s being overworked and…” Scott’s eye begins weeping. “Oh my goodness. I am so sorry. Really, really very sorry.”

Wanna wear my sunglasses, I ask, holding them out to him.

“That would be a bit more weird, wouldn’t it? I actually did think about that in the taxi, but I thought that would be some sort of weird and screwed Invisible Man-type thing. I mean, it couldn’t be worse. And then we have to go and get our photograph taken. It’ll be one of those pictures where, you know, those creepy pictures… Of people crying?”

That’s what Photoshop’s for, I say.

“Anyway. Let’s just ignore it.”

I wonder if it’s particularly hard to walk around with an eye infection at a point in time where you’re not merely famous, as Scott is – a star of stage, screen and Bond film, winner of multiple awards, including, as of barely two weeks ago, a Best Actor Olivier for Present Laughter at the Old Vic – but specifically famous for being sexy.

In 2019, Andrew Scott became synonymous with, well, sex. While playing a character technically known as the Priest, whom the general public instantly renamed the Hot Priest, the spiritual support turned transgressive love interest of Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s supremely popular Fleabag, Scott became a cypher for the nation’s more exotic desires. A deliciously contentious pin-up. Ground zero on an earnest social media debate about whether the Priest’s relationship with Fleabag should be considered abusive, power imbalanced, “problematic”. And that was just for starters.

The Priest’s sexual iconography extended far beyond the limits of the show, becoming the subject of internet memes and real-life merchandise (visit online retailer Etsy for your £12 Hot Priest mug emblazoned with an illustration of Scott in priest’s robes, alongside the word “kneel”, a reference to a pivotal moment between the show’s lead characters, which takes place in a confession box, the climax of which, assuming you haven’t already seen it, you could probably take a stab at). There was an unprecedented upsurge in young worshippers, and women started bombarding social media “influencer” the Rev Chris Lee of west London with nude photographs. There was much foetid fan fiction.

To be publicly defined by so much sex, as Scott still is, a year and a half after Fleabag concluded, and then to be encumbered by something as visibly unsexy as an eye infection, I can see how that might make a chap self-conscious.

Scott isn’t here to rake up all that old Hot Priest stuff, mind. He’s here to talk about the second series of His Dark Materials, a lush, expensive fantasy drama based on the Philip Pullman books, jewel in the crown of the BBC’s autumn schedule. The series was filmed through 2019 and the beginning of 2020 and had all but wrapped before lockdown. Good timing, as it turned out, because the extensive post-production processes, unlike shooting, could be completed in isolation.

Scott’s Colonel John Parry is an explorer, the missing father of the central character, 14-year-old Will Parry. He’s a man who slipped into a parallel universe some years earlier, acquired a “daemon” – an exterior animal-formed expression of his soul, a female osprey called Sayan Kötör, voiced with public-pleasing symmetry by Phoebe Waller-Bridge – and never found a way back to “our” world and his son. I speak as a fan of the books, which you might describe as a darker, existential response to Harry Potter, although honestly? They’re better than that. The show is great, a deft, rewarding interpretation, and Scott is an exciting prospect as Parry.

Did he jump at the part?

“I did, actually. It was definitely something I was into. We were doing a play and it seemed like a fun thing to do.” Scott is one of those who slips into the third person when speaking about himself in a professional capacity.

Had he read the books?

“Yeah,” he says. “I think they’re extraordinary. The truth, but told on a slant. I love the way Pullman tells children about spirituality or religion in such an extraordinary, intelligent way. He doesn’t speak down to them. He talks to children’s souls.”

Given that Pullman effectively kills off God through the course of the books and Scott’s a lapsed Irish Catholic who has suffered his share of shame on account of the church’s grip on his homeland (more on which shortly), I’d imagine Pullman’s books talked to Scott’s adult soul too.

Presumably, he didn’t have to audition. Presumably, he never has to. Too famous for auditions?

“No,” he says. “Although I’ve always thought auditioning is a pretty good thing to do.”

Why?

“Because you’re able to understand, ‘Oh, this is the vibe here.’ You think, when you’re an actor, you don’t have much choice, but I’ve always felt like auditioning is a good opportunity for you to go, ‘Oh well, I don’t much like you either. I think you’re dreadful!’ ”

I don’t care that you didn’t give me that part?

“Yeah.” Scott becomes playfully, theatrically defiant. “I don’t care!” He flicks aside an imaginary rejection with a churlish hand.

Will John Parry and His Dark Materials be enough to eliminate all residual overtones of Hot Priest sexiness from Scott? Maybe. He is a fine actor, no question, entirely transformed from role to role. I saw him play Paul, a narcissistic, fame-addled touring rock star, at the Royal Court in 2014 in Simon Stephens’ Birdland, back when his deeply sinister Moriarty weighed almost as heavily on Scott’s reputation as the Hot Priest does now. I’d watched him become someone else entirely on stage. “Oh, you saw that?” Scott says, pleased.

I quote, “Am I cancer?” at him, his defining line from the play, as evidence.

“Oh Jesus. Oh f***ing hell. Oh my. I’d forgotten that line. ‘Am I cancer?’ ”

The Hot Priest association hasn’t left him yet, which is why I find myself asking what it’s like to be the very definition of sexiness.

“You get invited to more parties.”

Better parties?

“Yeah.”

Better than during his Moriarty phase?

“Definitely.”

It must be fun to find yourself le dernier cri in sexy, according to the whole nation.

“Yeah, that’s fun,” he says. “I didn’t really like being associated with scary. It’s not what I’m interested in being, in life, being intimidating to people. It’s not part of my nature, whereas being sexy to people…”

That is part of his nature?

“Well, they’re very different things.”

They’re both about having power over people.

“I suppose they are, yes.”

So did Scott, bored of scaring people, say to Phoebe Waller-Bridge, writer and star of Fleabag and a long-term friend (they met in 2009 while starring in Roaring Trade at the Soho Theatre), “Write a role for me that will make everyone think I’m just really, really sexy now”?

“That’s such a good belt. Are they two ‘Gs’?”

“Exactly.”

——————————

Andrew Scott is not the easiest interview. He’s utterly charming. Really, just a delight. In between prostrating himself for the offence of his eye and apologising for not turning up the first time we were scheduled to meet (ten days earlier; a delayed Covid test result meant he couldn’t make it), he ensures I have a good time in his company. He is playful. He makes me laugh. His every utterance is delivered as a grand performance. (“Shhhh! Just… Shhhh!” he implores, placing a finger against his lips while expressing frustrations over the mindless jabber of social media, and he does it so powerfully, he compels me to be quiet, breathlessly to await delivery of his next line.) He finds elegant ways to flatter me. He laughs at my jokes and is terribly taken with my belt.

Yeah. For Gucci.

“Oh. Ha ha! I thought it was the Golden Globes. I love the Golden Globes. Ha ha!”

And of course, he’s Irish. Clichédly, melodiously Irish, which makes everything sound softer and jollier than it might otherwise.

As for the actual business of being interviewed, of answering straight questions with straight answers, finishing off sentences, offering more than a slip-slide of vagaries punctuated by vigorous hand gestures, none of which translates into print? He’d rather not.

He tells me, as he’s told other journalists before, this is because he’s interested in navigating the line between “privacy and secrecy”, then says he’s aware he’s sometimes “got away with secrecy under the guise and respectability of privacy”, as if signalling potential incoming slipperiness, which means I prepare to throw every trick in the book at him.

First up: amateur psychology.

Might Andrew Scott’s gayness be at the heart of his reluctance to speak more freely? Perhaps. This is no scoop. He’s been out for almost as long as he’s been famous. “I mean, as a civilian, I was quite young [when I came out], you know? But then, as a celebrity…”

He tails off, allows me to fill in the blanks. This is another of his evasion tactics. I can’t very well quote Scott on the presumptions I make about things he never quite says.

He had to have another coming out?

“Yes. And I have another one coming up.”

He has another coming out coming up?

“Yeah.”

So that will be, what? Tier 3 gayness?

“Tier 3, yeah.”

Scott grew up in Ireland at a time when it wasn’t legal to be gay, which could certainly seed an enduring reluctance towards carefree openness in a person. He invokes the concept of shame more regularly than the average interviewee. He was born in Dublin in 1976 to Nora, an art teacher, and Jim, who worked at an employment agency. He has one older sister, Sarah, and a younger one, Hannah.

He was shy, so started attending a children’s drama course.

Did that help?

“Yeah. Acting to me is not pretending to be someone else. It’s more like, this is who I actually am. The lie that tells the truth,” he says. I am none the wiser. He was clearly talented. He went from adverts to his first starring role in a film aged 17 (Korea, directed by Cathal Black), won a bursary to art school but took a place at Trinity College Dublin to study drama instead, and ditched that six months in to join Dublin’s Abbey Theatre. He’s been gainfully employed in the field ever since.

How Catholic was his upbringing?

“Well, there were Catholic priests in my life,” he says. “None of whom I wanted to have sex with.”

Does it amuse Scott to know he inspired a mass fetishising of priestly ranks? That in 2019, the Hot Priest would make, “Can you have sex with a Catholic priest?” one of the most googled terms of the year?

“Absolutely f***ing mental,” he says.

Homosexuality wasn’t legalised in Ireland until 1993, when Scott was 16.

“I always think, if I’d had a boyfriend then, which I definitely did not…”

No?

“No.”

He knew he was gay, though?

“No. No, no, no, no!”

Was he suppressing it or not thinking about it?

“I would say suppressing. Definitely suppressing. I don’t believe people just don’t think about it.”

An upbeat, cheesy jazz remix of something or other starts playing outside the room.

“Oooh, this is the soundtrack for this bit of the interview,” says Scott. He wiggles his shoulders to the music.

I switch to strict dominatrix interviewer mode. Focus, I say. You were about to tell me something good.

“Oh, shit, was I? OK. I think what’s really insidious is that people don’t ask you about sex or… People wouldn’t say, ‘Are you gay or are you [straight]?’ And the lack of directness is very damaging. They just didn’t go there.”

Does he think his family, friends, the people closest to him knew then that he was gay?

“No,” he says. “I don’t think they did know. Or maybe they have a suspicion, but they think, I want to be respectful, so I’m not going to ask about that. Then [when you do come out], people say, ‘Oh, I’m glad.’ You know? If you do talk about it. So I suppose what I feel now is, talking about sex or sexuality is important. Really important.”

Having said that, “There’s still getting rid of the shame. In a situation like this, 10 or 15 years ago, I would have been…” He fakes shock, horror. “Oh no! Polly’s just asked me about [he switches to a whisper] that.”

Scott will talk about his sex life only notionally. No specifics. For 15 years, between 2001 and 2016, he was in a relationship with the actor turned screenwriter Stephen Beresford (Scott starred in Beresford’s 2014 film Pride). Ever since, he’s refused to answer questions about his romantic life.

And he’s not going to talk about it now, I presume.

“No.”

What if we talk about it opaquely?

“OK.”

Where does he see himself, domestically, in an ideal world? Married with kids whom he’ll, I dunno, adopt or have via surrogacy?

“I like it. It’s bold. Am I going to adopt or…?”

Get a surrogate?

“I definitely think that’s something I would be open to.”

Great, I say, with blatant sarcasm. Thanks. How specific.

“Ha! I’m sorry. OK. Have I got any children at the moment? No. How can I… [explain]? OK. I was with a friend of mine in Dublin…”

His partner?

“No, no, no. Not my partner. Ah ha. I see what you were…”

Teasing. Yes.

“Ha! Yes. So, I was with a friend in Dublin and we were walking around and he was looking at apartments and I was like, ‘What about this place here?’ You know? And he said, ‘No,’ and I said, ‘Why not?’ and he said, ‘I don’t live a heteronormative life, so I don’t want a heteronormative house.’ ”

What’s a heteronormative house?

“Two up, two down thing. He goes, ‘I can live in a loft or a weird space. I don’t need those things.’ He was so proud of it. He really owned it. I think where a lot of one’s pain comes from is when you go, ‘I should want that.’ And so, to answer your question opaquely, I have kids I adore. I love children, genuinely, and I had a very happy childhood. But I also feel, if I don’t have kids, that’s all right. I think I would’ve attached a lot of shame beforehand, with not living a particularly heteronormative life… Even with being gay, there’s a sort of way of being gay that’s acceptable. And I don’t feel that any more.”

He feels you can be unacceptably gay?

“Exactly. Exactly!”

I ask when shame shifted for him and Scott says it was when Ireland voted overwhelmingly in favour of same-sex marriage in the 2015 referendum, which felt, he says, “like acceptance, genuinely. And I remember going out to this gay bar in Dublin and this girl came up to me, this cool Dublin girl, and she said, ‘What are you doing here? You need to go down to, I don’t know, blah, blah, this bar in some park.’ She was saying, ‘This isn’t the right gay bar for you. This is some shit gig,’ when the fact I’m in a gay bar in Ireland [at all] is a miracle to me, and then some person with a half-shaved head is telling me, ‘No, you need to go somewhere cooler.’ ”

His left eye starts weeping again.

“I’m so happy about that,” he says. “Even though I’m crying.”

I ask Scott if he has a game plan when picking roles, if he plots his course from Sherlock villain to Bond quasi-villain (he played Max Denbigh in Spectre) to sex icon, and, if so, what next? “No. Jesus, no,” he says.

We talk about the totalitarianism of social media, which he isn’t on, and share a mutual despair over it. “I thought it was something one would associate with the right, but actually, now it’s [the left] that is very ‘you’re this’ or ‘you’re that’. I find that quite frightening. It actually makes me feel ferocious.”

Is he not worried about being cancelled, of somehow saying the “wrong” thing, according to Twitter sensitivities, then having a thousand voices mobilised against him, demanding his firing, in the style of JK Rowling?

“I’m not,” he says. “I refuse to be. A very intelligent person I was talking to recently was writing a book and he said, ‘I’m going to get a sensitivity expert to have a look. I don’t want to get cancelled.’ I found that frightening.”

Is he rich? “Rich is the absence of worry about money,” he says. He can’t remember the last time he worried about money.

That must be nice.

“Of course it f***ing is. I think it’s a miracle. I really do. I was working in a French theatre in London for nothing – none of us was working for anything – and I remember the artistic director of the theatre talking about the fact we weren’t earning any money as some sort of virtue. I remember feeling really annoyed about that, like this isn’t good.”

This leads to an inevitable conversation about how the arts are suffering with Covid, including a segue down the Fatima route, the much shared government advert that depicted a young ballerina and suggested she retrain in something called cyber. “Her name’s not even Fatima,” Scott rails. “I think she’s called Desire’e. From New York.”

I mean to ask him about his experience of filming The Pursuit of Love with Lily James and Dominic West, stars of their own recent off-screen micro-scandal in Rome, just in case he lets any scurrilous insight slip, but our time’s up and it’s not as if Scott has much form on offering up scurrilous insight anyway.

Still, I feel grateful to him for meeting me halfway on the other stuff. And so I say goodbye to Andrew Scott, the UK’s foremost gay heterosexual lapsed Catholic faux-priest lust icon with a troublesome eye infection.

#''Tier 3 gayness'' is peak comedy #I'm not sure if I should put this in the tag but y'all can reblog if you need it on yours #long post #andrew scott

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gottlem · 4 years

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you belong with me (gigi x crystal)

a/n - some of this isnt proofread so im SORRY if it gets messy at the end it is literally 3am. also this is my first fic so pls be kind i dont know what im doing like at all. (also keep a look at for slight jackie x jan) this was inspired by someone wanting a fanfic based off of you belong with me by taylor swift and i loved the idea so here we are and i am sorry.

-----

Gigi and Crystal are best friends. Growing up living so close to each other made them an absolute power-duo, for years on end they have been inseparable at all times. When they were younger, Gigi would sleep over at Crystals every single weekend and neither of them would ever get sick of eachother. They spent their nights giggling at nothing and making pinky promises “to never ever not be friends” and that they would be each other's “favourite person” forever, because they didn’t know that life can get a tad bit more… complicated when you start to get a little older. Living in ignorant bliss of the impending doom of high school, they would spend their time in their own little bubble, making the most of each other's company. In their minds, it wasn’t a question whether or not they loved each other. The answer was there without even having to ask the question, but of course they were too young to fully understand anyway.

In her early teens, Crystal would slowly realise that if young Gigi and Crystal were a boy and a girl, everyone would have joked about them being together with them being so close, but since they had been two little girls, they were just best friends in everyone’s eyes. Crystal would also slowly realise that ‘just best friends’ isn’t really where she wanted to stay with Gigi, but that truth wouldn’t come for another few years. She learned about the term ‘lesbian’ when there was a rumour in the 7th grade that she was one. It hadn’t fully occurred to her that girls could like girls in that way, but when she did google what it meant on a random wednesday night, it seemed so obvious. Natural. Of COURSE girls can like girls, they’re so pretty! Needless to say, it didn’t take her very long to understand that maybe the rumour was actually true- but nobody needed to know that. Not even Gigi. Definitely not Gigi. To be honest, she didn’t know where her friend even stood on topics like this, but they had never even talked about boys, so she absolutely didn’t want to risk bringing up girls.

In 7th grade, Gigi already knew what a lesbian was. She heard talks about her best friend being into girls, but she paid it no mind. If Crystal was gay, she’d tell her, right? Gigi could be trusted with that kind of stuff. Either way, she wouldn’t bring it up. Maybe Crystal hadn’t even heard about it, maybe she was completely oblivious. Yeah. That must be it. It was around this time Gigi realised she herself might like girls. But it had nothing to do with Crystal. Nothing at all. In fact, the topic of relationships had never even come up between them. In 8th grade, Gigi started to get little crushes, exclusively on girls. This was the year she decided she was a lesbian. By then, the rumours about Crystal were long forgotten, but her friend’s sexuality was almost always in the back of Gigi’s mind. Crystal had never expressed interest in boys (or girls for that matter), but then again neither had Gigi. She knew she would have to come out to Crystal at some point - there was no WAY she was hiding a future girlfriend from her best friend.

One night in the summer before 9th grade, Gigi slept over at Crystal’s house. Just like old times, except now both girls had quite a big secret they were hiding from each other, completely unbeknownst to the fact that it was the exact same secret. Gigi was going to tell her by the end of the night. She was SURE of it. The hours passed like minutes and before the girls knew it, the sun had completely set outside and the moon shone down into Crystal’s brightly coloured bedroom (some would think it’s decor is all over the place, but Gigi would describe it as being perfectly Crystal). The pair had settled into a slow, but somehow not very sleepy conversation despite the time, by around 1am. If Gigi was going to tell her, it was now or never. Before she could change her mind, Gigi had looked Crystal in the eye and started with “I really need to tell you something”. She had rambled on about how much she trusted Crystal, and how much she wanted her to accept this. Crystal didn’t have any idea what Gigi could possibly be leading up to, but she did absoluetly not expect to hear “I’m gay, Crys” coming from her friend’s mouth at 1 in the morning.

The confession left Crystal speechless. Of course she didn’t judge Gigi, she was gay too! She was just shocked. How long had Gigi known? How long have they both known and didn’t tell eachother? It took Gigi’s tearful eyes and furrowed brows to tear Crystal out of her overthinking. Shit. She hadn’t even responded.

“Crystal. Are you mad? Oh my god you’re mad aren’t you? Or like weirded out? I can go if you want. I get if you’re like uncomfortable with me staying over now-”

“Gi”

“-I don’t have to sleep in your room. I’m sorry I told you. We never talk about this kind of stuff why did I think telling you would be ok? I-”

“Gigi!” Crystal shook Gigi’s shoulders to get her attention. Her eyes were bloodshot and Crystal cursed her brain for short circuiting when it did. She knew she had to tell Gigi now.

“Me too” her voice came out as a whisper, but it cut through the silence of the room with ease. It was Gigi’s turn to be stunned into silence. Neither of the girls said anything. Crystal just hugged her friend. She didn’t stop until they woke up in the morning. That week, Crystal let her eyes linger on her friend a little longer than normal every time they passed each other at school. She found herself re-typing text messages and doing anything to speak to Gigi. She knew what all this meant, but she would not tell Gigi. It was just a little crush. Everybody gets little crushes.

10th grade rolls around far too quickly than anyone would like to accept. Gigi and Crystal are as close as ever. Well, as close as ‘just friends’ can be, much to Crystal’s (hidden) dismay. Jan and Jackie, who had become very good friends with the pair in 9th grade, would constantly tease Crystal about her not-so-small-anymore crush on Gigi when the other girl wasn’t looking. Of course, Crystal hadn’t told them, but it wasn’t necessarily difficult for the couple to figure it out when she would stare at Gigi every chance she got. The teasing only got more painful about a month into 10th grade, when Gigi started dating the new student, Nicky. Suddenly, Crystal felt herself become awkward around her best friend - someone she used to feel so free with. It was easier to pretend she wasn’t falling in love with her when she was single. But now, now she had someone to be jealous of. Someone to remind her that clearly she’s just not good enough for Gigi. Every now and again, Gigi wouldn’t show up to their usual lunch table, leaving Crystal to third wheel with Jan and Jackie. On these days, Crystal didn’t bother looking for Gigi, she knew who she was with, and frankly she couldn’t bear to see them together. When she first saw the couple kiss, it made her stomach drop. Gigi was waiting for the bus when her friend sat next to her and made easy conversation. They were smiling and laughing until Nicky’s car (because of course she could drive) came to pick Gigi up. When she got in the car, the couple shared a moment far too intimate for Crystal’s liking. She pried her eyes away until she heard the car leave.

By Winter break, Gigi and Nicky had been dating for three months. Crystal wasn’t very familiar with how their relationship was going - she knew it would only hurt her if she always asked Gigi about it. If Gigi wanted to talk to her about it, she would bring it up, and apparently Gigi really didn’t want to talk to her about it. Crystal was fine with this. Well, Crystal was fine with this until there was a knock on her door at 11:58pm on a December night coming from the one and only Gigi Goode. Who was crying. Like, really crying. Crystal took the girl's hand and rushed her to her room, sitting her on the bed they had shared (platonically!!!!) many times before. She let her cry. Crystal had learned in her 16 years of life that sometimes, you just gotta cry. Still, the sight of her friend sobbing so much wasn’t an easy one to digest, nor was it one she had seen often.

After god only knows how long, Gigi’s cries had died down, she was in Crystal’s pyjamas (which Crystal thought was too much for her brain to handle right now, but considering the situation she pushed these thoughts the the back of her mind, as if she hadn’t tried that for the past year anyway) and she was holding a glass of ice water between both hands. It was Crystal who broke the silence.

“What’s up?” She was quiet, scared that speaking too loudly would cause the fragile girl infront of her to break down again. But she didn’t. Her brows furrowed and she had a look on her face that Crystal couldn’t quite place, something she wasn’t used to by any means after being friends for a good ten years now.

“It’s nothing. Me and Nicky just had an argument”

“And this is why you came to my house in hysterics in the middle of the night in Winter. Ok, sure.” She deadpans. Gigi gave her a look as if to say ‘you bitch’ but there’s a fondness behind it nonetheless.

“Ok fine. It’s more than nothing. It feels like all we ever do is argue anymore. We do like, two things; we argue or we mess around, yknow? And I’m kind of sick of it! It’s like I’m here for her to make out with and that’s all that we have going for us. That’s the only good thing. And shouldn’t there be more? Shouldn’t there be romance, and dates and shouldn’t we be able to be stupid in front of eachother and-” She started to cry again, though not as intense as before, definitely enough to stop her little rant. Crystal thought it was for the better, if she heard anymore of that she might start crying herself. She could give Gigi all of that. Hell, she already did for the most part.

Crystal was torn. She wanted to tell Gigi she should break up with Nicky. She knew it would be for the better, for both of them, but she still felt like it would be selfish of her to give that advice. She didn’t want to accidentally take advantage of Gigi, with her being in such a vulnerable space. So she tells Gigi the facts - well, she didn’t really have much (or any) experience so they could be completely false, but to her they seemed quite solid.

“Couples have honeymoon phases. They can’t keep their hands off each other because they’re so obsessed with this new person they have all to themselves and people get carried away. It’s human nature. But that dies down, or it should. Eventually. Couples argue. It’s healthy to disagree and make up every now and again but there comes a point where it’s just too much. I think you know where that point is. I can’t make it up for you, it’s not my relationship, babe” Crystal let the pet name slip without thinking too much about it. She was tired and it was a school night, and her friend was upset. She told herself it meant nothing. Gigi hugged her and fell asleep quite quickly, exhausted from her emotions having taken over.

Nicky was beautiful. Drop dead gorgeous. Painfully stunning. This was a fact, this was understood by boys and girls alike, gay straight or bi. Gigi was lucky to have her, or maybe she wasn’t. Crystal didn’t know anymore. She could see why Gigi had clearly fallen so hard for the french girl, with her fashion forward style and her thick accent that Crystal had no option to admit was just plain sexy. Again, this was all fact. Gigi was also beautiful. That’s why everyone loved them together. Aesthetically, their relationship just worked. But Crystal had a tear stained pillow and a broken girl to prove that aesthetics mean nothing unless there’s love there too. And Crystal loves Gigi. She always has, and probably always will. Crystal didn’t like Nicky. She didn’t like the knowing glares she would get as they passed each other in the hall. It was as if the french girl could read her damn mind and she didn’t like it one bit. It wound her up to no end. She also didn’t like how she would argue with Gigi until she would cry and cry and run to Crystal’s house, sobbing into her pillow. It became routine. The pillow was pushed to the side, specifically for when Gigi came to cry her mascara onto it. Nicky would always apologise the next day. Gigi would always accept it. Crystal felt more and more hopeless.

A few months later, the routine continues. Gigi sends Crystal a text one night in February at around midnight, to say she’s coming over (a new-ish development in the all too familiar routine) and Crystal prepares the signature glass of water and the tear-soaked pillow for her friend. When she opens the door after Gigi’s knocking, she is met with no tears. Actually, she is met with a smile. Crystal just stands there. Gigi walks casually up the staircase and into Crystal’s bedroom, taking the glass of water and sitting cross-legged on her bed, hugging the pillow, but not for emotional support - because it's just comfier. Crystal follows her, a million questions on the tip of her tongue. She sits opposite to Gigi.

“I broke up with Nicky”

Oh.

OH.

“Just now? Oh my god, are you ok?” Crystal hears herself replying before she even knows what to say, she’s glad she didn’t say something stupid.

“No actually, I broke up with her this morning. I was talking to Jan and Jackie about it earlier, but you weren’t there. Plus, I wanted to tell you like this anyways. Here. Feels like tradition. Like it’s come full circle.”

“Are you sure you’re ok though?” It’s honestly creepy to see Gigi so calm over Nicky, after all the tears she had spilled before.

“Yeah. I think it truly ended a long time ago.”

“Oh.”

It’s silent. Crystal feels tense. Like there’s something else to be said, like something else is going to happen. And she’s right. Because when she looks up, Gigi is staring at her, pupils wide and ears red. Crystal feels like she’s under a microscope. A breath gets stuck in her throat. Gigi giggles at it. She giggles and she inches forward. She inches forward and lifts her hands. She lifts her hands to Crystal’s face. And they’re kissing. They’re kissing and Crystal is smiling. When they pull away, Gigi has plump lips and a dumb smile on her face. Crystal loves it. They sit there for a minute, just staring at each other. Letting each other give the moment a second to sink in. When it does, they laugh. And then they talk about it. And then they kiss some more. And then they fall asleep. So what if it took Gigi a bad relationship to see what was standing right infront of her? Now they have each other, and that isn’t going to change.

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justcallmefox89 · 4 years

Text

Day Date

Jax has been in the Devildom for three months now. They’re getting closer to their crush and thriving at R.A.D., but there’s something strange happening at House of Lamentation. Jax enlists the help of their crush to get to the bottom of the mystery.

Written from the perspective of my non-binary OC Jax.

NSFW: mild make out/groping

My usual PSA - Always check in with your partner to make sure you’re on the same page sexually and emotionally. Respect each other’s boundaries and nos. Listening and communicating openly is one of the sexiest things you can do. PSA over. :)

Finally a day off from R.A.D. Maybe Arianthi can take me someplace new so I can sketch today.

I pause and reconsider.

Maybe not. She’s been a little off lately. Sad.

I haven’t said anything to her yet, but I’m getting worried.

I wander through the House of Lamentation, looking for the girl who has become my de facto big sister. I stop by the library first, but Satan is the only one there.

“Oh, hi Jax.” Satan looks up from his book and smiles at me.

“Hey. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” I smile back at him, happy to find him in an unusually good mood. “I was just wondering if you’d seen Arianthi anywhere? I can’t find her.”

Satan’s smile vanishes and his shakes his head.

“Maybe she’s with Mammon?” I try hopefully.

Satan scowls. “He didn’t come home last night. He’s on another gambling streak.”

It’s been like this for the past four weeks. What is going on with those two?

Arianthi and Mammon have gone from being inseparable to barely speaking to each together. He’s been spending more time away from home, drinking and gambling, while Arianthi has thrown herself into her work at R.A.D., spending more time with Diavolo and Lucifer.

“Again?” I start chewing on the inside of my cheek, upset. “I know it’s not really my business but I’m starting to get -”

“Worried?”

I nod.

“I am too,” Satan admits. “Even Levi has noticed something isn’t right.”

Shit.

When the ever oblivious otaku who barely leaves his room notices something is off, the situation is really fucking bad.

“She hasn’t been sleeping in their room either.” Satan drops another knowledge bomb on me.

“What?” I feel my eyebrows raise.

“Beel said he’s been finding her sleeping on the couch in the living room. And last week Lucifer found her sleeping in that room she and Mammon were renovating.” Satan frowns.

I feel my face scrunching up in confusion. “But there’s no furniture in there right now.”

A month ago Mammon and Arianthi had moved her private office into another vacant room in the house and started renovating the empty room. I had helped her paint it and refinish the woodwork.

He just raises his eyebrows and shrugs. “She was sleeping on the floor.”

“Well fuck,” I mumble.

Satan nods. “Exactly.”

“She hasn’t said anything to me about what’s going on. Has Mammon said anything to you?”

“Not a word.” He shakes his head.

“I’m going to try to find her, maybe drag her out of the house today. If she’s not working. On her day off. Again.” I let out a deep sigh.

He smiles at me wanly. “I hope it works. I think she’ll listen to you more than us at this point.”

“Message me if you see her?”

“Absolutely.”

I continue searching, poking my head in Levi’s room, checking the kitchen, even going so far as to pester Lucifer while he’s in his bedroom.

“Have you checked their bedroom?” He suggests.

“I-” Damned if I’ll admit I’m a little afraid to.

“Would you like me to accompany you?” Lucifer offers begrudgingly.

“Yes please!”

A few minutes later Lucifer pushes open the door to Arianthi and Mammon’s bedroom. We stand in the doorway silently, craning our necks to examine the space.

“It appears neither one is here,” Lucifer finally states the obvious.

“Satan said Mammon didn’t come home last night.”

Lucifer makes a tch sound of disapproval low in his throat.

“Arianthi didn’t go into work today did she?” I try not to get my hopes up.

Lucifer shakes his head. “I already messaged Diavolo. He hasn’t seen her.”

We both eye the door to the next bedroom then look at each other, playing a telepathic game of rock, paper, scissors. By benefit of being frightening as hell, Lucifer wins.

Damn.

I take the few steps to the next room over and rap on the door softly. When there’s no response I quietly ease the door open. Arianthi is sitting on the floor, her back pressed against the far wall, looking off into space.

She gives me a soft smile when she finally notices me. “Hey you. I haven’t seen much of you lately.”

“You’ve been working a lot with Diavolo and Lucifer on the exchange program,” I respond.

A pink blush dusts her cheeks and she looks at me guiltily for a moment.

“How are your classes going?” She finally asks.

“Good.” I amble over to her and sit down.

We stay silent for awhile, both of us lost in our own thoughts. I look around the room that just a month ago we had lovingly re-painted. The walls were now a soft mint green, the woodwork at bright, pure white.

Finally Arianthi turns to me with a mischievous smile, looking like her old self. “Sooooo............ how are things with Beel?”

I can feel the heat in my cheeks from my blush. “Fine. Good. Ok. Things are ok.”

She arches one eyebrow at me. “Just ok?”

“W-w-well, I mean, we’ve been hanging out a lot. We’re good friends.”

“Just friends?” She grins at me knowingly.

“For now,” I mumbled. “Maybe. Hopefully.” I heave a sigh. “I like him. A lot. But he’s also become one of my really good friends since I’ve been here and I don’t want to take a chance on messing that up, you know?”

“I get it,” she says, nodding. “What happens if you do take a chance and he wants the same thing you do?”

I stare at her like a deer in the headlights.

“Oh come on!” Arianthi knocks her should into mine. “You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about what it would be like to date Beel.”

I open and close my mouth a few times.

Of course I have. I also have realistic expectations.

She rolls her eyes and looks at me in disbelief. “You are one of the most confident people I’ve ever met. Why does that completely disappear when you’re around him?”

“I don’t know,” I mutter, closely examining the carpet.

“Maybe because he’s different? Maybe because you think there’s a possibility of there being something real there? Like a real deal, shoot for the stars kind of love?”

“I hate it when you’re right,” I say sullenly. “I won’t say love, I can’t say that yet. I know he’s special though.”

She knocks her shoulder into mine again, raising her eyebrows at me.

I swat at her, laughing. “Cut it out.”

“I’m just saying maybe it’s time to jump in the pool. Get your feet wet. Splash around a little bit.”

I roll my eyes and huff out a low laugh. “I’ll think about it.”

Arianthi raises her hands and smiles. “That’s all I ask.”

“Speaking of asking things......” I trail off and give her my best puppy dog eyes. “Could you maybe, possibly, venture out into nature with me today? Help me scout out some new places to sketch? Pretty please?”

Her smile instantly disappears, replaced by the stoic mask I’ve come to know all too well over the past few weeks.

“Um, I’m not feeling that great today hun. I think I’ve been working too much.” She gives me a sad smile. “Maybe another time?”

“Oh. Alright then.” I try hard to mask my disappointment. “Another time.”

I start to push myself off the floor, but she grabs my arm.

“Wait! I’ve got a great idea. Why don’t you ask Beel to take you? There’s a really pretty lake in the forest I think you’ll like. He’s knows the way and I bet he wouldn’t mind.”

“I-I wouldn’t want to bother him,” I stammer.

“You wouldn’t,” Arianthi says, smiling. “I’m sure he’d be happy to have a hiking buddy. And I know he likes spending time with you.”

“You think so?” I ask hopefully, blushing a little.

“I know so.” She pauses. “There’s even a picnic all packed up in the kitchen you guys can take with you.”

“Is this all an elaborate set up to bring me and your future brother-in-law together?” I eye her suspiciously, then grin. “Because if it is I accept.”

“Kind of,” she admits sheepishly. “Mammon and I were supposed to go out to the lake today, to get some time alone together. He, um, he didn’t come home last night though.”

Her smile wobbles a bit. “I don’t want to waste the food or anything, so I’d like you and Beel have it. You guys can have some time to yourselves, and you’ll be able to sketch something new.”

“Oh man,” I sigh and give her a small squeeze.

“Oh god, I’m getting a pity hug.” Arianthi gives a shaky laugh.

“I can stay here if you want,” I offer, worried about her.

“No!” She gives me a small push. “Go. Be free. Chase your tall, muscular, ginger dream.”

“I hate you,” I say, laughing, and stand up.

“I love you too.” She smirks at me.

I start to leave the room, then pause in the doorway. “You sure you don’t want me to stay? Or you can come with us?”

Arianthi makes a shooing motion at me. “I’m sure. Now go, get your man.”

I narrow my eyes her.

“Really!” She insists. “I’m fine. Go get Beel and enjoy yourself today. I’ll see if Asmo wants to have a spa day or something.”

“Ok.” I grin at her. “Thanks for this Arianthi.”

“I told you on day one that I had your back.” She returns my grin.

“I appreciate you!” I say as I leave the room.

“You better!” She calls out.

I walk down the hall towards the room Beel and Belphie share. I knock twice and wait until I hear a sleepily mumbled, “Come in.”

I slip inside and scan the room for Beel.

“He’s in the bathroom,” Belphie mutters out from under his pile of blankets.

“Oh. Sorry, I can go.” I turn to leave.

“Nah, hang on a second,” Belphie says. “Hey Beel! Your Jax is here!”

Your Jax? Sounds good. Very into it.

Beel comes out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a pair of low slung shorts, toweling his hair dry. He flashes me his signature adorable grin. “Hey Jax.”

“H-h-hey,” I stutter, flustered by his abs and wide expanse of muscular chest.

“What’s up?”

“Uh, um....” I blank.

Belphie bails me out. “Usually when someone comes looking for another someone that first someone has a question for the second someone.”

He gives me a sardonic smirk while Beel looks on in confusion.

“Y-yeah. Right.” I shake myself a little. “Um, Beel would you wanna go to the lake with me? For a picnic? I was wanting to sketch a little, and I thought it might be nice if we maybe went together......” I trail off.

“That sounds like fun,” Beel says happily. “Give me a minute to get dressed?”

I nod, smiling. “Wanna just meet me in the kitchen? I’ll get the food ready to go.”

“Sounds good.”

I quickly leave the room and head to the kitchen, feeling grateful when Levi is the only one who catches me skipping with joy down the hallway.

There are two large, insulated picnic baskets sitting on the kitchen island, just like Arianthi said there would be. I double check my backpack, making sure I have everything I may need. Suddenly a large hand comes down on my shoulder and I nearly jump out of my skin.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you,” Beel says, sounding apologetic.

His breath is warm against my ear and a shiver races down my spine.

“It’s ok,” I tell him, leaning into the warmth of his hand.

He hums happily and drops a kiss on the top of my head. “Ready to go?”

My brain short circuits at the feel of his lips. “Uh-huh.”

“Ok.” He grabs the picnic baskets in one hand and holds the other out to me.

I stare at his hand.

Really? Does he really want me to? Ohmygod ohmygod. Get a fucking grip Jax. You’ve held a guy’s hand before.

Beel blushes and drops his hand. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he mumbles.

“I want to!” I reach out and grab his hand, smiling up at him. “I want to,” I repeat.

He looks down at me and grins shyly. “Let’s go.”

He tugs gently on my hand and we leave the House of Lamentation.

After 45 minutes of trudging through the woods Beel leads me to a gorgeous lake, surrounded by trees and wildflowers I’ve never seen before. He finds a large, clear patch of grass close to the lakeside and we kneel down, opening the picnic baskets.

We find a big, soft blanket and he spreads it out while I pull out plates, silverware, and cups.

“Wow, she went all out.” I murmur, pulling a bottle of champagne out of the basket.

“Mmm?” Beel turns towards me.

I show him bottle. “Arianthi went all out.”

“She did all this?” Beel looks at me in bewilderment.

Oops. Beans spilled.

I sigh. “Arianthi put all this together because Mammon said they would come here together today but-”

“He’s not home.” He finishes my sentence.

“She didn’t want it to go to waste so she thought we might like it,” I mumble, my shyness suddenly returning.

“I’m glad,” Beel says softly. “I’m not glad Mammon didn’t come home for their date,” he quickly amends. “But I’m glad I get to spend time alone with you.”

“Me too,” I say, grinning at him. “I’m just going to have water. Do you want any of this?”

I offer him the bottle of champagne.

He shakes his head, pulling out a container of sliced fruit. “Just water is good.”

He pulls out another container.

“Oh she made peanut butter cookies! I hope she made turkey sandwiches with the spicy mustard and that one special type of cheese she brings back from the human realm.....those are Mammon’s favorite. I bet she did......”

I chuckle as he eagerly roots through the baskets, excitedly commenting on each new container of food he pulls out. I discreetly pull out my sketchbook and pencil. His face, his smile, his pure unadulterated joy; I want to always be able to remember that.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been around someone who gets genuine happiness from such simple things. It’s nice.

I hum to myself, sneaking looks at Beel as he sprawls out on the blanket, sandwich in hand.

I sketch for a few minutes in silence. Suddenly, crumbs fall onto my sketchbook and I flick them away in irritation before snapping my head up to look directly into Beel’s eyes.

“Hi,” I breathe.

He studies my sketch. “Are you drawing me?”

He smiles in delight before he takes another bite of his sandwich.

“It’s not done yet.” I hastily flip the page and shove the sketchbook back into my backpack.

“Will you show me when it’s done?”

No. Of course not. Absolutely no. Never.

“For sure.”

Beel reaches into a picnic basket and hands me a sandwich. “Um, you should eat something before it’s all gone,” he says shyly.

He quickly puts some chips, fruit, and a cookie onto a plate and shoves it towards me. “I don’t want to eat all of it before you get a chance to have anything.”

Oh. My. God. My. Heart. It can’t take this. He’s too pure. Too cute.

We eat in silence for a while, enjoying the sunshine and the cool breeze blowing in from the lake, before I work up my courage.

“Hey Beel?”

“Mmm? What’s up?” He mumbles around a mouthful of chips.

“Can I ask you something?”

He nods, cramming the last part of his fifth sandwich into his mouth.

“Do you know what’s going on with Mammon and Arianthi? Did they get into a fight or something?” I hold my breath, hoping he doesn’t thinking I’m prying too far into his family’s business.

Beel slowly takes a sip of his water, thinking. “I don’t know what happened,” he finally admits. “But one night last week Mammon came home so drunk he could barely get in the front door. I was in the kitchen and I heard him. I carried him to their room so he wouldn’t wake everybody else up.”

Come on cutie pie. You’ve gotta give me more than that. We all know he’s been drinking way too much lately.

“Arianthi wasn’t in their room so I put him in bed. He started crying when he figured out she wasn’t there.” He pauses, looking uncertain. “Jax you have to promise you won’t tell anyone else this.”

“Of course. Not a word.”

“He told me Arianthi called off the wedding.”

“What?!”

Beel winces.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry. She hasn’t said anything to me about it. Are you sure that’s what he said?” I ask.

He nods sadly. “I don’t know what happened, but they’re both miserable. That’s why Mammon has been going out so much.”

I eat a chip, thinking. “Is it always like this when they fight?”

Beel looks scandalized that I’d even suggest something like that. “They don’t fight. Ever.”

I snort in disbelief. “Every couple fights Beel.”

“They don’t.” He pouts. “They have only had one fight, and that was before they started dating. And it led to them getting together.”

I fight the urge to kiss that cute little pout off his face.

“Ok, maybe it wasn’t a fight then. What else would make them upset with each other?” I’m stabbing in the dark now, anxious to nail down the problem.

Beel shrugs and takes a bite of an apple, chewing thoughtfully.

“Well,” he says after he swallows, “this all started about a month ago right? So what was happening then?”

I shake my head and eat another chip. “Nothing. Just classes. Arianthi’s work schedule was still normal. She didn’t start working so much until after........”

The light bulb clicks on and my stomach drops a little.

“After what?”

“Remember when Mammon and Lucifer went to the human realm for a week to run some errands for Diavolo?”

“Yeah,” Beel says. “Mammon whined until Lucifer gave in and let him tag along. So?”

“They quit talking and started acting weird right after Mammon and Lucifer got back,” I say slowly, hoping he realizes what I’m hinting at so I don’t have to come out and say it.

That would be a surefire way to torpedo this perfectly nice afternoon.

Beel looks at me blankly, waiting for me to connect the dots.

Shit.

“Do you think that there could be a chance that maybe Mammon did something on that trip that was a deal breaker for Arianthi? Something bad enough for her to want to call off the wedding?”

He scowls at me. “What? Like cheating?”

Afternoon torpedoed.

“I don’t know Beel,” I sigh. “That’s the only thing I can think of that would be bad enough that she wouldn’t want to marry him anymore.”

Beel opens his mouth to protest but I interject.

“Come on Beel. You know I’m right. She puts up with the witches’ pacts, and the get rich quick schemes, and the gambling, and the debts, and even the stealing to a certain extent. She’s been ride or die for him the entire time I’ve been here. Why would that change all of the sudden?”

He deflates a little. “He loves her so much. I really don’t think he would do that.”

My next question causes my chest to tighten. “Do you think Arianthi would....?”

Beel’s eyes widen in shock.

“I’m just asking!” I hold up my hands to placate him. “I really don’t think she would either, but I know she has history with Diavolo. Do you think maybe Mammon just misinterpreted something? Heard a rumor and ran with it?”

He shoves a cookie into his mouth and looks at me as he chews, considering.

“She wouldn’t cheat on him. He wouldn’t cheat on her. I know it.” He gobbles down another cookie. “I really think if Mammon heard a rumor or saw something he didn’t like they would have talked it out. At the very least we would have known about the fight. Mammon’s not exactly quiet.”

He smirks at me.

“True,” I agree with him. “If they had a fight at the House of Lamentation we definitely would have heard it.” I sigh in defeat.

Beel reaches over wraps an arm around my shoulders, cuddling me against his chest. “What’s bothering you? Beside them not talking to each other?”

I open up to him, soothed by his warmth and the feeling of his body next to mine.

“I don’t know. They were just so happy. And now they’re not even talking. Arianthi is working herself into the ground and Mammon’s partying it up. I know something bad happened. I know it. But they’re just avoiding it and it’s not making anything better. They were too happy and too good together to just give everything up like that. When you have something that great you don’t just throw it away over something stupid. You hang on to it as tight as you can. There’s too much bad stuff in this world to just give up something that makes you genuinely happy.”

His arms tighten around me and he presses a kiss to my temple. “Ok.”

“Ok? That’s it?” I’m flabbergasted.

I feel him shrug. “You’re right. I’ll help you figure out what going on, and then we can try to get them to talk to each other.”

“Really?” I twist in his arms so I can look at him.

He smiles down at me.

“They’re my family and them being happy makes me happy.” He pauses. “Plus, it would make you happy too. And I really, really like it when you’re happy,” he whispers.

I tilt my head back a little and look up into his big violet eyes. Beel reaches out and cups my jaw with one large hand. He leans towards me slowly, lips slightly parted.

I let out an involuntary sigh when he tenderly presses his mouth against mine. Warm, full lips part mine and he gently strokes my tongue with his. He eventually pulls away with a slight giggle.

“That tickles,” he murmurs, running his thumb softly over my lip ring.

“That’s not the only piercing I have that will tickle,” I whisper, shocked at my own confidence.

Beel’s eyes widen in surprise, then roam over my body hungrily. He surges forward, kissing me again with increased urgency, hands running up and down my sides.

I moan softly when my tongue touches his and he grips my sides tighter. His fingers grab onto the belt loops of my jeans, and he tugs me onto his lap.

I panic a little and scramble back slightly so that I’m awkwardly straddling his knees.

Oh fuck. We haven’t had this conversation yet. What if he’s not in to it anymore once we do?

“Are you ok? Did I do something wrong?” Beel asks, looking concerned.

I shake my head. “No. It was......awesome actually.

He smirks and reaches for me. “Then come back here.”

I lean out of his reach.

“Um. Ok. Well, here’s the thing. We haven’t really talked about ........certain stuff.” I blush and gesture at myself.

Fuck.

I look down at the ground, mortified.

The timing of this fucking blows.

Beel puts one hand on my hip, and uses his other to tip my chin up so I’m looking at him.

“It’s ok,” he says quietly.

I look at him stupidly, not quite understanding.

“It’s ok if you want to stop,” he says, then pauses for a moment. “But everything else is ok too. I’m ok with all of it. With whatever.”

He gives me a pointed look.

“Yeah?” I whisper, feeling extremely shy.

He nods.

“I like you because you’re Jax, not because of your body.” He flushes scarlet. “I-I-I mean, I do like your body. And I think you’re really cute. B-but it’s not all I like. I like who you are more. That’s what matters to me most,” he says, stammering a little.

Bolstered by his confession I scoot up until I’m straddling his lap, looping my arms over his shoulders.

“Is this ok?” I ask, a little unsure.

“Very ok.” He wraps his arms around me and leans forward, giving me the gentlest of kisses.

“Mmmm.” I deepen the kiss. He tastes like peanut butter cookies and something uniquely Beel, and I can’t get enough.

I nip lightly at his lower lip, gratified by the way he gasps into my mouth and the way his hips jerk up to meet mine.

One large hand slips under my shirt, his blunt nails tracing the lines of the muscles of my chest and stomach. I whimper his name, my thighs tightening around his hips. He huffs out a low laugh and presses a kiss to my neck.

Beel kisses and licks a trail up to my ear, nibbling on my earlobe. “You taste amazing,” he whispers into my ear.

I shiver at the feel of his breath and the sound of his deep voice.

“I wanna make you do that again.” He mouths at the sensitive point below my ear and slips one hand between us.

“Holy fuck,” I whimper when he cups me through my jeans and palms my erection.

“That is such a pretty sound Jax,” he mutters, before claiming my mouth again.

I arch against his hand as he continues to tease me through the thick fabric of my jeans. I finally break the kiss, panting a little. Beel’s mouth moves to my neck, dropping kisses down to my collarbone.

I manage to get my brain back online long enough to squeak out a request. “Beel? Can we slow down a little bit? Please?”

His hand automatically stills and he moves his head up to look directly into my eyes. “Whatever you want,” he says, nodding.

I sigh and lean forward, resting my forehead against his. “Thanks.”

Beel starts to say something, then hesitates. “Did it.....did it not feel good? Did I do too much? I just want to do what you like Jax. And for you to be comfortable.”

“It felt amazing,” I murmur. “I just, I like you a lot and I don’t want to rush anything. You’re really special to me. I wanna take things slow and keep getting to know you. Is that ok?”

He smiles at me sweetly. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s ok. You’re special to me too.” He suddenly frowns. “Can I still kiss you sometimes though? Because I really, really like kissing you.”

I laugh and kiss his forehead. “Yeah. Kissing is good. Let’s just chill on the other stuff for now though, alright?”

He hums happily and kisses my cheek before falling backwards, pulling me with him. We tumble onto the blanket, laughing.

Beel pulls me close and tucks me securely against his side, resting his cheek on top of my head. “Is this ok?”

“This is perfect,” I say, snuggling closer to him.

We spend the rest of the afternoon talking and cuddling, occasionally trading soft kisses. We head back to the House of Lamentation as the sun starts to set. We part ways at the kitchen; Beel goes off to find a snack and I go back to my room.

I flop onto my bed and pull out my D.D.D., quickly composing a message to Arianthi.

The picnic was AMAZING! I owe you so big. How was the spa day? Come to my room if you want to talk later.

I toss my D.D.D. onto my pillow, then reach for one of my textbooks. I spend about twenty minutes muddling through the finer points of ward magic before I message Arianthi again.

Ward magic is haaaaarrrrddddd. Come help me please?

I would ask Satan, but he sort of scares me.

Another twenty minutes passes and Arianthi still doesn’t respond. Which is weird, because she’s the type of person who responds to texts immediately.

I stand up and toss my book onto my bed, deciding to just go see if she’s in her bedroom.

And if she’s not there I’ll check Asmo’s room.

I open my door and jump a little when I see Beel standing there, hand poised to knock.

“Hey. Miss me already?” I tease him and smile.

“Asmo just called me,” he says, looking unusually serious.

“Is he ok?” I ask, worried.

“He’s out on a date with Solomon and he said Mammon just walked into The Fall.”

I can feel my eyebrows draw together. “I thought Arianthi was with Asmo. She said something about a spa day when I talked to her before we left this afternoon. And she’s not answering her D.D.D.”

Beel shakes his head, getting more agitated by the second. “I don’t know. I just know what Asmo told me. He said Mammon’s really drunk and starting to cause problems. Asmo and Solomon can’t get him to calm down. I need to go get him before he causes more trouble and Lucifer finds out.”

“What can I do?” I ask without stopping to think.

He hesitates, biting his lower lip anxiously. “Would you come with me? I don’t want to do this by myself.”

I reach out and grab his hand, lacing his fingers with mine. “Let’s go.”

He smiles at me in relief and tugs on my hand, starting to walk to the front door.

Ok Mammon, time to figure out what’s going on with you.

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luobingmeis · 4 years

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(do not re/blog please!!!)

(i also mention sexual stuff so like. be warned? i’m literally just word vomiting beneath the cut)

so not to be dramatic for a hot second but this is one of those things where i was like “hmm maybe i can just talk this out with one of my friends and have a listening ear” but that would just divulge into me getting too anxious about. so many things. but, having gone through many (personal) things recently, somehow “realizing that i may have a very complicated relationship with romantic attraction yet also being a lesbian” has. uh. how do you say. really fucked with me.

bc like. idk how to word it. i can get attached/infatuated very easily but also i have. very bad commitment issues? and that makes it very hard to distinguish anything???? and ngl it stresses me out so badly bc like. i’ve been talking to a girl (like texting and stuff) for almost two months and it feels Natural to say “oh yeah i like her i can see this going somewhere i think” but i also am sitting here literally unable to distinguish romantic feelings from friendship and like. i’ve come to the realization that so many of my friends are like “oh you just Know when you have feelings for someone” and maybe i’m just picky or maybe i just need more time or maybe? something else???? like ngl it’s kinda terrifying bc im talking to this girl and it feels Natural and i like talking to her and she’s super fun and nice and we seem to get on well so i’m like “oh yeah i can see myself dating her i think” and, while of course dating is complicated 100x more bc of the pandemic and also just general dorming in college, i feel like if there is something there i should be more Committed? or more definite?? but i literally go in and out of “oh yes this is a crush” and “we’re just talking” and i literally don’t know what i’m supposed to be feeling????? and this is not the first time this has happened??????? like ever since 2017, i feel like i go in this cycle of “infatuated crush ---> get anxious/realize it was just infatuation ---> feel guilty/drown myself in work to make an excuse/brick myself off” and this is the first time in a while that i’m wishy-washy bc i Like talking to her even tho im so bad at texting and im terrified that it’s gonna fuck this up and like i can imagine going on dates with her (this is in a no-covid scenario like yes ik rn it would be very Not Safe to start dating Now) and it feels Natural but i feel like i just can’t get myself to feel that Spark like. i want to! i very much want to! and i feel like maybe i’m just thinking too much into it and i need to also understand that i probably really can’t Know until there’s a meeting in person (which i don’t think that’s gonna happen bc 1. going back to college and 2. most importatly, pandemic) and like people have told me that!!!! that i can’t always just Feel something through a screen and need that in-person contact. but i just keep getting hung up on the fact that i have such a hard time distinguishing from infatuation and a crush/love, and then a crush and friendship. and like it’s stressful!!! bc it really almost feels like natural to say “oh yeah this is a crush” bc 1) it’s been over a month and i haven’t gotten bored/made myself stress ghost and 2) it’s not like the act of dating her is out of the question, and i feel like i Could. but. is there supposed to be a spark??? bc i am literally sitting here and cannot distinguish between crush and friendship, and sometimes i get a pang of “oh yes i am in this for the long run” but is that just infatuation?? or, tbh worse, is that just...... me liking the attention?????????

but then sometimes i just. get a compliment from a separate friend. and i’m suddenly like “oh shit i’m in love with her!!” and then have to deal with whatever those feelings are, even if it’s just infatuation for like 5 hours

(and then there’s the complication bc i know i feel sexual attraction towards women and that just kinda makes my head spin more bc how can i be so sure about that but literally be having an on-going crisis abt romantic attraction)

anyways this is becoming long and ngl im kinda nervous but

tldr: for years, i thought i was just a lesbian who was picky and had commitment issues and now i have had the time to think about my complicated relationship with specifically romantic attraction and now i’m sitting here unable to distinguish my feelings from romantic and just friendship and idk if this is just. a typical experience. or something else. bc the idea of romance/dating isn’t Out Of The Question but i am also terrified and i’m fearing that my “sparks” were just infatuation at the idea of getting attention. but then, the other side of things is that dating and romance doesn’t seem Far Off, i just..... can’t pinpoint what i’m feeling. bc i don’t know!

#this is a whole hot mess of me talking abt types of attraction #anyways either i dont really get love/crushes or i just feel it differently #bc idk how i can say ''oh yeah i can see myself in a relationship with this person''#and then not have an actual grasp on what im feeling #akjdskjdsjkd whoops

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devil-kindred · 4 years

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Get to Know Me - raisinghellinotherworlds

Saw @pd3 do this and though I’d give it a go!

1. Name : Siren (it’s a pseudonym!)

2. Nationality: American

3. Age: 27

4. Birthday: January 29th

5. Zodiac sign (or your primal zodiac sign): Aquarius

6. Gender: Female

7. Sexuality: Heterosexual

More below the cut

[[MORE]]

8. Your looks (add a picture or describe yourself)

For the record this is the only recent picture of myself I like and this is about as much of my face as you’ll ever see bc I know my angles.

9. What do you/did you study?: I went to school for a Bachelors in Arts with and emphasis on Sciences but never finished it bc 1) college is expensive and 2) I don’t know what I want to do career-wise so there’s not a point in going back anymore.

10. What’s your current job like?/What job would you like to have?: I’m a service desk associate at a department store. Something where I could deal with less people bc boy does this job push my patience sometimes.

11. What is your birth order?: Firstborn/Oldest.

12. How many siblings do you have?: Technically four, but only two living.

13. Do you have good relations with your family?: My immediate family. My siblings are closer to each other (but they’re only two years apart) but we get along. I also have a good relationship with my parents though I’m not as close to my mom as I could be it’s hard to forget the not nice things your parent say to you as a kid.

14. How many friends do you have?: Lots though only a few I see/talk to on a regular basis.

15. Your relationship status: Single.

16. What do you look for in a SO?: Intelligent, kind, has a sense of humor.

17. Do you have a crush?: I guess.

18. When was your first kiss?: WHY *sighs* I was... 25.

19. Do you prefer serious and meaningful relationships or casual dating/one night stands?: I’ve... never been in an actual relationship? I’d like to say serious.

20. What are your deal breakers? Being rude, cheating, and treating me like a child/you know what’s best for me/someone in need of saving (new flash, i am not your princess peach/some damsel in distress. If you need to rescue someone I am not your girl).

21. How was your day?: It’s still early into the day and I go to work in about an hour and a half and I get to close so we’ll see!

22. Favourite food & drink: French Fries. Or anything with potatoes. I’m a fiend. And Dr. Pepper or Coffee.

23. What position do you sleep in?: On my side/stomach on the part of the bed that’s against the wall.

24. What was your last dream about?: It was... highly NSFT and no, I will not go into detail.

25. Your fears: I’m not a fan of spiders or bugs of any kind really, I hate clowns, and I don’t like thunderstorms. Or tornados.

26. Your dreams: Move, either out of state or out of the country.

27. Your goals: See above.

28. Any pets?: A bird, Momo.

29. What are your hobbies?: Writing, playing video games, and reading (fanfic or books)

30. Any cool places in your area?: I’m sure there are but I live in a town surrounded by corn and other farmland so... it’s anyone’s best guess.

31. What was your last awkward situation?: The other day when a customer stared at me for a solid three minutes when I explained that due to the pandemic we’re no longer offering one of our services in an effort to reduce contact.

32. What is your last regret?: That I didn’t realize the true nature of some people who I no longer speak to sooner.

33. Language/s you can speak: English, Spanish (I’m so rusty though), a little bit of French, and a teeny tiny bit of Japanese.

34. Do you believe in astrological stuff? (Zodiac, tarot, etc.): I believe in my many things so yes.

35. Have any quirks?: Uh... I mess with my hair when I’m nervous? & the more nervous I get my (already high) voice gets higher and will go up several octaves the more nervous I get?

36. Your pet peeves: People in my apartment building slamming the front door all the damn time.

37. Ideal vacation: Somewhere with nice scenery and where it’s calm.

38. Any scars?: Quite a few small ones on my head from a car accident when I was just a baby (I went through a window- got a few scrapes but other than that was unharmed) and one on my hand (it’s on both sides of my hand too) from when I was toddler and got bit by a dog.

39. What does your last text message say?: “I’ll let you know when I get some gameplay posted!” I have a sideblog for casual TS4 gameplay. Was telling a friend that I was going to post new stuff soon.

40. Last 5 things from your search history: No thanks! It’s all just checking if a word is really a word and spelling anyways.

41. What’s your [Device] background?: Lockscreen is a wallpaper from FFXV ft. The Chocobros; Hope Screen is Sam & Evie.

42. What do you daydream about?: Writing mostly.

43. Describe your dream home: Decent amount of space, a library room to hold all my books... good lighting, comfy.... preferably NOT in the middle of nowhere.

44. What’s your religion/Your thought about religion: I am not a fan. Particularly of Christianity but everyone has their own beliefs and in that regard, to each their own. Just don’t try to convert me bc the answer is f*ck no.

45. Your personality type: INFP.

46. The most dangerous thing you’ve done?: Climbed onto the roof of the shed when I was little because I got something stuck up there.

47. Are you happy with your current life?: For the most part!

48. Some things you’ve tried in your life: Gymnastics, Ballet, etc.

49. What does your wardrobe consist of?: Lots of t-shirts, jeans, shorts, flats, boots, etc.

50. Favourite colour to wear?: Black or Blue.

51. How would you describe your style?: Extremely casual.

52. Are you happy with your current looks?: Kinda? I really need to cut my hair because it’s gotten so long it’s annoying. But I can put up with it until it’s safe again bc pandemic. My hair is not that important I assure you.

53. If you could change/add something to your appearance - impossible or not - what would it be?: Oh God, could I be taller? Like at least 5’3”? Which is still teeny but better than my 4’9” ass.

Do you have any piercings or tattoos?: I have 3 piercings and three tattoos (two finished, one in progress)

55. Do you get complimented often?: Maybe? I’m oblivious to the point that you could have a flashing neon sign with the compliment written on it and it would probably still go over my head.

56. Favourite aesthetic?: Biker Chic!

57. A popular trend that you dislike: Neon.

58. Songs you’re currently obsessed with?: Blessed Be - Spiritbox.

59. Song you normally wouldn’t admit you like: If I like a song, I like it. But if I have to pick one, I know everyone hates Despacitio. I know, ok but I really like the original version bc I like the sound. Latin music always has a fun groove to it.

60. Favourite genre?: Rock & Metal.

61. Favourite artist/band/genre?: Type O Negative, Pallbearer, Ice Nine Kills. Give me all the goth rock/metal and just fun metal in general.

62. Hated popular songs/artists?: Oh boy... don’t hate me but I um... don’t care too much for T Swift? And I’m not a fan of country.

63. Put your music on shuffle and list first 5: Devil’s // Door - VCTMS, Karasu - The GazettE, Path - Apocalyptica, I Walk the Line - Halsey, Drumming Song - Florence + the Machine

64. Can you sing or play any instruments?: I can kinda play bass but I’m still learning so it’s just like... the very bare basics.

65. Do you like karaoke?: I’m very self-conscious so no.

66. Own any albums?: Yes, though majority are digital.

67. Do you listen to radio? What stations?: Yes. I have it on for background noise in my room in which case I don’t pay attention to it, but I have XM radio in my car where I listen to Octane/Liquid Metal/Turbo.

68. Favourite movie/series?: The Dark Knight trilogy or Hellraiser or Nightbreed.

69. Favourite genre of movies/books/etc: Horror, Sci-fi, and fantasy.

70. Your fictional crush/es: Too many. Look at my OCs and their SO’s and you’ll find a bunch of them.

71. Which fictional character is you?: My friends would say Mira Jane from Fairy Tail. My bestie says Mercedes from Fire Emblem Three Houses (minus the devout part bc... I do not have nice feelings re-religion. You do you though!).

72. Are you a shipper? List your otps, if so: Yes, and once again you’ll be reading for eternity. So I’ll sum it up as too many to list.

73. Favourite greek god?: Apollo.

74. A legend from where you live that you like: It’s said that before big disasters happen in the town I live in + the surrounding areas, that you’ll see a panther. Supposedly one has been seen before at least 4 different bad things that have happened over the years. I’m in the midwest though so take that as you will.

75. Do you like art?: I do but I don’t really have a favorite. ... I am kinda partial to Van Gogh though.

76. Can you share your other social media?: I have a Pinterest but since my other social media has my name (which I also share with an OC whoops. That’s what I get for being indecisive and going the first name the name generator gave me) I’d rather not. If you ask and we’re friends I’ll probably give it to you but...

77. Favourite youtubers?: I don’t really watch too many anymore but I’ve been watching a lot of jacksepticeye’s gameplay. Aside that I tend to just watch channels like PlayStation Access or Outsidexbox.

78. Favourite platform?: Instagram

79. How much time do you spend on the internet?: More than I should, I’m sure.

80. What video games have you played? Which one’s your favourite? Uh, if I had to list them all you’d literally be reading this for eternity. To sum it up, I mostly play RPGs/JRPGs, open-world, survival horror (my fave), and a few (emphasis on few) FPS. Favorites are (once again with a limit): Bioshock, Dragon Age, Mass Effect, Until Dawn, Silent Hill 2, and Fatal Frame.

81. Your favourite books (manga also counts): do you know how f*cking hard this question is as someone who’s a bookworm? Ok, ok um... Gotta have a limit or I’ll never shut up... um... Three favorites: The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern, Horns by Joe Hill, and American Gods by Neil Gaiman.

82. Do you play board/card games?: On occasion! They’re best with bigger groups but alas, my apartment is rather small and I don’t have a lot of space for multiple people so I don’t play them often.

83. Have you ever been to a night marathon in cinema? No, but it sounds fun.

84. Favourite holiday: Halloween!

85. Are you into dramas?: As in, tv dramas? Kinda? I have a friend on lived in SK for a time and got into K-dramas so I watch them with her from time-to-time when she visits.

Would you use a Death Note if you had one?: No.

87. What changes would you make in the world, no matter how impossible, if you had the power to?: Oh boy... make everyone get along, ensure everyone could live their life to the best possible, etc.

88. Could you survive a zombie apocalypse?: Possibly.

89. If you had to be turned into a paranormal being, what would it be?: I’m going with mythical instead of strictly paranormal but... a vampire!

90. What would you want to happen to you after your death?: As in to my body? Cremate me. To my stuff, give my books to a good home and take care of my bird.

91. If you had to change your name, what would be your pick?: Most people call me by my middle name already since I got tired of people calling me the wrong name (& I like my middle name better) and insisting my first name was actually a nickname (it’s not, it’s the same as the musician I’m named after) so if I were to eventually be bothered enough, I’d have it legally changed to my middle name.

92. Who would you switch your life with for a week?: I don’t know to be honest. I’m fairly happy with my life so I think I’d just not switch.

93. Pick an emoji to be your tattoo: 🌊

94. Write 3 things about yourself - only one of them must be true: I took karate classes for several years, I’ve never dyed my hair, I’ve had two jobs thus far.

95. Cold or hot?: Cold I guess? If we’re talking in reference to seasons give me cool (aka Fall).

96. Be a hero or be a villain?: Hero because being a villain would mean I’d have to be mean to people and I can’t even pick the mean options in video games without feeling guilty so...

97. Sing everything you want to say or rhyme?: um... no? I’m not quite certain what this means but I’m going to go with no?

98. Shapeshifting or controlling time?: Shapeshifting!

99. Be immortal or be immune to everything aside from natural death?: Immortal.

#get to know me #get to know siren #my face #please DON’T REBLOG #my apologies to anyone on mobile #i put a read more and it shows up if i view my blog in my web browser but isn’t showing when i view it in the app!

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johnlockficclub · 5 years

Text

Author Q&A Recap

We have to say, @prettysherlocksoldier was very lovely and everyone had a great time bantering back and forth. So much fun, that for space we’ve kept it to just the questions and answers:

@sherlock-nanowrimo: Did you have any headcanons as you wrote this fic, that didn't make it into the story?

@prettysherlocksoldier: Not exactly, but I did sort of come up with the whole idea originally with the concept for Irene's radio show, and I wanted initially to have her somehow in that capacity work to set John and Sherlock up, but it didn't really come together that way and I wish I could have spent more time with her radio show.

@elwinglyre: I loved the bantering that you included in this story. What inspiration did you use to write it?

@prettysherlocksoldier: Truthfully, I tend to write dialogue how I speak. And I'm EXTREMELY dry and sarcastic with my friends, so it just comes out of that with a characterized twist. WELL OKAY so they are all like different sides I guess. John bridges the gap between sarcastic Dani and supportive friend Dani, and Sherlock is "I would never dare say this to your face but I am thinking it very loudly" Dani.

@elwinglyre: It sounds like you like to write kind of stream of consciousness at times. How much do you generally plan out in your writing. The dialogue is spontaneous but the rest is…? I’m always interested about this.

@prettysherlocksoldier: I always try to be a planner but I am a pantser at heart. Any time I attempt to outline it goes off the rails fairly quickly and I just let it, so most of it ends up being spontaneous. The only thing I pay fairly close attention to is the chronology, especially with a holiday story which has a set deadline (ie Christmas). I don't want to mention it's been a week and that would be New Years or something, so I keep track of that but otherwise I'm a mess.

@blue-posey: I love the play on words and puns and turns in your writing, but esp ‘every silver lining

@prettysherlocksoldier: I really don't know haha! Again, I guess I just sort of write like I talk. And, being an English major and a writer and generally a hopeless romantic, I am also occasionally very poetic (coughmelodramaticcough).

@blue-posey: Well, it is poetic. As is the way Sherlock sees John throughout the book: golden hair, snowflake on his cheek etc.

@prettysherlocksoldier: I've seen too many Hallmark movies, I will put a snowflake on every eyelash within reach.

@sherlock-nanowrimo: What draws you to writing unilock stories? This was our first time reading unilock as a group and some folks hadn't ever read that trope before. It was a big hit

@prettysherlocksoldier: Well, at the time, I was in university, so that was a big part of it, but then I also just think it's a time of such potential, whether undergrad or grad school. I mean, school takes up so much of some people's lives, especially someone like John going into medicine, and those are formative years. So I like playing with the idea of meeting someone at this point in your life where everything is changing and you're trying to find your footing and settle into your own skin, and then here comes someone who shakes all that up and you sort of have to decide if you're going to grow TOGETHER or just keep forging your own path. It's a high-stakes time period and I'm just drawn to the dramatic potential in it, I suppose.

@elwinglyre: I also liked your foreshadowing in this with the elevator (going up and going down—so naughty and nice). And your whole pulling out the angst at the end with Sherlock. Great build up.

@prettysherlocksoldier: I love sort of...innocuous foreshadowing. Like it won't be HORRIBLE nothing TERRIBLE is going to happen because that's simply not what I write, but anything could come around again and suddenly have new meaning. It's just harmless turnabout haha.

@blue-posey: Can I say I did a fist-in-the-air jig when John said about ‘nice’ boys asking for nudes! It was really good to see it spelled out like that, esp coming from a male character.

@prettysherlocksoldier: I love John being this like...perfect stereotype of a Jock Jackass and then he's just...not. And it sort of unseats everyone around him and that's fun too. And I make everyone as raging liberal feminist as I am so there's also just that haha.

@elwinglyre: So… the big question: how do you feel about writing sex scenes???

@prettysherlocksoldier: OH MY GOD SO AWKWARD OH MY GOD I don't do it very often because I just... It is so difficult for me, I can't put my finger on why. When I do write them, they're either harried or I'm focusing more on the emotion because I just don't know how to make "thrust" sound sexy I just don't knowwww.

@sherlock-nanowrimo: There were a number of details we loved, departures from frustrating aspects of canon. Like Molly not having a crush on Sherlock because everyone knows he's gay. And John happily admitting he's bi. Did you have any intent to knock down some canon stuff or did it just come natural?

@prettysherlocksoldier: I think a lot of that comes out of unilock more than any particular intent of mine. Like, it's 2016 or whatever it was at the time, they're young, they're at a liberal universe in a world city, like I just...can't fathom Sherlock would not be out. Especially with someone like Irene around him, who I always make a supportive influence. John is a little more complication because of that jock persona and he might have some reservations about being open about his sexuality, but I just... I mean, growing up in a conservative home and environment that did not take kindly to me coming out, I just don't make much time for it in the worlds I get to create. Maybe I'm trying to rewrite my own history, but hey, the world's rough enough with even fictional gay people having to feel unsafe being themselves

@blue-posey: And talking about openness, I love how casually John says he’s bi

@prettysherlocksoldier: That moment actually meant a lot to me because it's like a chance for him to correct an assumption, and yes Sherlock is listening and that's part of it, but it's I think the moment when we're like OH WAIT HE MIGHT BE INTO IT and it's So Softe.

@wildishmazz: When they nearly got pornographic near the end, were you toying with the idea of someone having to say the title to them?

@prettysherlocksoldier: I almost ALMOST had them do the classic bump-the-microphone-and-everyone-hears-you-boning, but decided against it haha.

@sherlock-nanowrimo: as we were reading the part with Mary, I know I tensed up wondering just how it was going to go. But it wasn't toxic at all - -she made an effort to reconnect, but accepted her defeat with grace.

@prettysherlocksoldier: I have a hard time making Mary a rival. Maybe because I don't think she ever really was haha! But also I was disappointed in where her character ended up going and she deserved better and I am going to give it to her goshdarnit.

@blue-posey: I also loved this:

“Love conquers all,” the blond quipped, slowly lowering himself down beside Sherlock, back scraping against the wall. “No, it doesn’t,” Sherlock scoffed, turning through the pages. “It merely temporarily blinds people to flaws; it doesn’t actually conquer anything.”

I know it reads a bit defeatist, but I think it’s not.

@prettysherlocksoldier: I love a Sherlock who has sort of...put up this shield of cynicism around love simply because he doesn't think he'll find it, so it's easier to think the whole thing is stupid. I mean we've all had a bad breakup and been like NEVERMIND LOVE IS A SHAM for a while. Not to be a monster, but I always thought of Sherlock as someone who loves very deeply, just never expresses it because he perceives himself as unloveable.

@wildishmazz: did John assume they were on the same page re: having been on dates and so therefore being dating?

@prettysherlocksoldier: John, god bless him, I think totally thought he was like courting this dude and doing it up right and being Super Romantic, and then Sherlock is just like BUT YOU DID NOT EXPLICITLY STATE.

@blue-posey: @tildathings wanted to ask how you choose the radio station for the set up.

@prettysherlocksoldier: Oh god that is actually kind of embarrassing, so to be fair it was VERY LATE and I was DRIVING and I was VERY BORED but do y'all know that like late night advice radio show with that gravelly voice woman, Delilah?? I just thought what an Irene version of that would be like and everyone else just kind of came out of that and got their own shows and then it was just at a radio station and it's all Delilah's fault.

Thanks everyone for joining us for back to school fic! Many thanks to @prettysherlocksoldier for chatting with us!

#johnlock fic club #you're on the air

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forehead-enthusiast · 4 years

Text

A Buncha Tag Games (and yet not all of them)

tagged by: @eggyukhei mwah

tagging: this is a LOT of games so i’ll only tag @atinyphobe @nsheetee and @veonjun for the SECOND (2nd) game. if they or anybody wants to do any of the other games, absolutely go for it and say i tagged you <3 i’d love to see what you guys say!! (also, tk if you felt like you wanted to answer my questions from the second game i’d be interested to see!)

One:

tell me the first song that made you stan your current fave group and why did your faves attract you so much?

ok SO the song that probably got me into rv 100% (also yes ik this blog is 99% nct but rv is my forever fave no question) was probably ice cream cake!! i had been a casual listener of many groups up until that point and had never really stanned anyone, but icc was so infectious i found myself watching it over and over. i had heard happiness and be natural before but hadn’t really listened too closely, so icc was the song that captured me. after that, dumb dumb only cemented my love for them more, and the red is still one of my favorite kpop albums to date. rv attracted me primarily because of their incredible vocals and their versatility in genres and concepts. i still get so excited wondering what they’ll tackle next!! they’re just soooo unique and have one of, if not the best discographies of any group. i cannot stress enough, I. Love. RV!! also they’re funny and gay so. anyway stream monster once it drops uwu

Two:

rule: answer the ten questions and write your own!

1. what is your favorite song that’s been released during quarantine? ooooo honestly??? probably something off of Sawayama. literally every song bangs so hard i highly recommend that album to anyone!! i can’t pick a favorite off it but who’s gonna save you now is awesome and xs is just,,, chef’s kiss

2. what is your greatest mishap when you tried cooking? (or something you’ve witnessed) one time, while making soup at my late grandmother’s house on her like gas stove, i put a lid on a pot and somehow that led the pot to be engulfed in flames. IN MY DEFENSE i was like 7, and i’m great at cooking/baking now

3. what’s your go-to outfit or article of clothing? oh i love a nice dress. they can be casual or formal, and you look like you put effort into your outfit except i didn’t because i didn’t have to match anything yo!!!! also shorts have trouble fitting me cause i’m a weird body type so dresses tend to be very comfy for me

4. what is your comfort food? am i allowed to say like all food??? eating in itself is comforting,,, that sounds depressing but also i just like eating yummy food. i guess i’d say like my dad’s fried rice?? its my fave and no one makes it like him soooo

5. what singular moment in your life would you like to relive? i couldn’t tell if this meant like, a good moment you want to re-experience or go back in time and redo a moment and fix it. it’s kind of a hard question so i might cop out and go with a bit of a silly answer: i want to relive the hi touch with astro...... i wanna look at rocky’s beautiful eyes and touch moonbin’s hand ok,,,,

6. what is your favorite line and/or character from a movie, show, or book? i got a bunch but a few off the top of my head are genie lo (the epic crush of genie lo), ty lee, suki (atla), klaus, and ben (umbrella academy)

7. if you could only choose one ice cream flavor and pizza topping/style for the rest of your life, what would it be? ice cream flavor: this very specific one from a local store that is banana ice cream with strawberries and oreo mixed in. it is heaaaavenly. as for pizza topping, i love a breakfast type pizza with an egg on top and like sausage and stuff!!!

8. what is the worst injury you’ve ever had or witnessed? funny enough, i’ve actually gotten badly injured quite a few times, and always on the face!! god hates me. the worst was probably when i hit a metal bench with my face and it took a chunk out of my cheek. i still have the scar! as for “witnessed” i accidentally broke a grown man’s rib once as a child, so i guess that would count.

9. would you rather explore the unknown of space or the bottom of the ocean? oceaaaan!! i answered this in some other game, but i like how mysterious and yet close the ocean is. like proximity wise it’s so near, yet there’s an insane amount we know nothing about. that’s so frightening but so intriguing

10. if you could be any cartoon character, who would you be? my first thought was literally “kirby. eat fast” GOD my followers are gonna think i’m just a glutton and they’re not even gonna be wrong im dying. but uhh idk mulan or smth?

my questions:

what is your go-to feel good movie?

are you the type of person who’s indecisive about buying, or the type to impulse buy once you see something you like?

do you prefer chocolate-y or fruity candy?

what idol do you think is most similar to you? (not your bias necessarily)

do you have any silly dealbreakers? if so, what are they?

what do you do to unwind?

what is a small thing you like to do for people you love? (be it sending memes, remembering their favorite shows, etc)

what’s/who’s your favorite myth/mythological being?

what is a non-typical pet you would want to have?

do you say pronounce data as day-ta or dah-ta?

THREE

rule: bold the statements that apply to you, italicize your aspirations, then tag nine people.

AIR ༉⋆͙̈

i have small hands / i love the night sky / i watch animals and birds when i pass them by / i drink herbal tea / i wake to see the dawn / the smell of dust is comforting / i’m valued for being wise / i prefer books to music / i meditate / i find joy in learning new truths from the world around me

FIRE ༉⋆͙̈

i don’t have straight hair / i like to wear ripped jeans and overalls / i play an organized sport / i love dogs / i am not afraid of adventure / i love to talk to strangers / i always try new foods / i enjoy road trips / summer is my favorite season / my radio is always playing

WATER ༉⋆͙̈

i wear bracelets on my wrists / i love the bustle of the city / i have more than one set of piercings / i read poetry / i love the sound of a thunderstorm / i want to travel the world / i sleep past midday most days / i love simply lit dinners and fluorescent signs / i rewatch kids shows out of nostalgia / i see emotions in colors not words

EARTH ༉⋆͙̈

i wear glasses or contacts / i enjoy doing the laundry / i am a vegetarian or vegan / i have an excellent sense of time / my humor is very cheerful / i am a valued advisor to my friends / i believe in true love / i love this chill of mountain air / i’m always listening to music / i am highly trusted by the people in my life

AETHER ༉⋆͙̈

i go without makeup in my daily life / i make my own artwork / i keep on track of my tasks and time / i always know true north / i see beauty in everything / i can always smell flowers / i smile at everyone i pass by / i always fear history repeating itself / i have recovered from a mental disorder / i can love unconditionally

FOUR

the ultimate tag: answer whichever ones you want to because there are a lot and then tag a few blogs you’d like to get to know better!

PERSONAL

name: sarah

nickname: bells

birthday: april 17th

zodiac: aries

nationality: chinese american

languages: english, some spanish, some korean

gender: female

sexuality: baby bi bi bi~

height: 5′10

BLOG STUFF

inspiration for muse: i suppose nct since i write for them the most?? but i feel like sometimes i come up with the idea before i think of a member so sometimes the muse is just my own fantasies oops

meaning behind my url: i made it at a time where loads of idols were getting bangs and honestly i believe most of them look infinitely better without them, thus i was and still am enthusiastic about foreheads.

blog established: like winter of 2018...?? i think

followers: over 2.5k but most deactivated/left during my hiatus lol

FAVORITES

favourite animals: sharks, chickens, snakes, cats, penguins

favourite books: the epic crush of genie lo and then iron will of genie lo, PERIOD

favourite colour: pink and purple!!

favourite fictional characters: lol, again, genie lo, ty lee, suki, klaus, ben, and just a few more: richard and evelyn o’connell (the mummy), dave (dave), michael (the good place)

favourite flower: sunflower

favourite scent: baking chocolate, heating butter, blackberry, wisteria

favourite season: probably spring! i like warmth but not HEAT

RANDOM

average hours of sleep: ugh idek i sleep horribly

cats or dogs: both, but unfortunately i’ve never had either

coffee, tea or hot chocolate: tea but then hot chocolate

current time: 5:29pm

dream trip: go to paris and eat loads of pastries and enjoy the fashions and beauty of the city, and also learn to bake better maybe?

dream job: actress

hobbies: making jewelry, drawing, singing, reading comics

hogwarts house: according to the quizzes, all of them. people who have just met me think slytherin or gryffindor, people who i’m friends with think ravenclaw or hufflepuff, people who know me really well know you can’t box a person into oversimplified archetypes :’) in my assessment of myself, it varies by the day, but i think perhaps gryffindor today?

last movie watched: hot fuzz (a classic)

last song listened to: summer breeze by sf9

no. of blankets you sleep with: like 2

random fact(s): i won lego building competitions as a child, one of my dream roles is anastasia from the musical named after her, i played violin for a very short time, i bake the cakes for all my family and friends’ birthdays, i have strangely strong grip strength

SIX

10 songs i can’t stop listening to:

love me 4 me- rina sawayama

cherry- rina sawayama

in & out- red velvet

crush culture- conan gray

manic- conan gray

the king- conan gray

summer- pentagon

told you now- jeremy jordan (originally sung by sam smith)

fuck this world (interlude)- rina sawayama

someone who loves me- sara bareilles

#these were sooooooooooo fun!!#thank you for tagging me eggy #i feel like i maybe exposed myself for being a gluttonous fool tho #lmaoooo #fr tho try these games out!! so fun #sarah.tmi #tag games

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vorefluff · 5 years

Text

if anyone is curious

This is legit how I come up with new storylines and things. This is just a copy/paste of something I sent my girlfriend when I was in the middle of Figuring A Thing Out.

Featuring a new character, Hue and a drawing of him! Mostly this is about Blaze tho, and some stuff about John too. It sorta goes all over the place - the moment it seems like ‘oh this is what this post is about’ it switches on you.

Warnings: Lots of “so anyway”, no proofreading, completely filled with lowercase sentence starters, fragments, cussing, a couple vague s*xual references. It’s a brain barf.

[day 1]

This is Hue. He's a werewolf boi-o and one of the shortest characters i've made so far, clocking in at 4'10". you can just barely see his bite scars under the arm hair I decided that John shouldn't be entirely partner-less because Blaze decided to be stubborn and not embrace the gay. Cause that's just unfair to john. Like, Blaze said no, John respects that, so John moves on.

No matter how much I rlly rlly want the two to be together.

so anyway is seems that John has a Type. smol grumpy and easy to fluster I mean, in terms of potential romantic partners. in terms of Hotness and potential one-night-stands and such he's more physically attracted to guys in snappy suits and confidence like raknu but also not raknu himself because it'd be weird to bang your boss.

[day 2]

[insert some Spoilery Things about Alchemy Brothers from my World Of Glass And Bone and my character I’m basing Hue off of. This is also a first - usually I don’t base one character off of another. I did it in this case to absolutely make 100% sure that Hue’s personality doesn’t end up being like a Blaze2.0.]

[....] cause like, yeah, I made him with the intent of finding an Actual Partner for John, but I don't want that to be his Entire Personality. I don't want him to just be off-brand discount walmart version of Blaze. I've never done this before k. Like, usually I make characters, and then decide relationships to other people, not the other way around. And now I'm just Worried and low-key Freaking Out that he won't be seen as anything more than a Blaze-wannabe.

[day 3]

so THIS is how love triangles get started, huh - throwing in Hue threw a wrench into things. so like we got John and Blaze, right? they're like. bestest buds. John is like, the only person that Blaze really actually feels completely comfortable around. and like, a big part of the reason why Blaze doesn't want to be in an Actual Official Relationship is a lot of smaller very valid reasons.

1) he's in denial that it's even a thing he wants at all. All relationships end in Bad Things - either death as Blaze outlives them, or breakups, or deception and misunderstanding, or other Fun Things like that. So why the fuck would he want to put himself through that again?

2) he still gets nightmares about Alex and not over that 3) all past relationships have been either abusive or at least a little bit Toxic - including alex (just as the nature of the culture, and the social power difference between people and vampires, toxic masculinity, just straight up assholes with a pretty face, ect) and that's just sorta the standard, normal thing that Blaze expects to happen with relationships in general. So it's showing a little bit of growth on Blazes part by saying no to the perceived toxicity, but still misunderstanding what a normal relationship is.

4) he's still not sure he's part gay. Like, he was Trying Out A Thing with Alex and he didn't get enough time to process it or really tell if that's something for him.

5) Blaze is asexual and sex-repulsed, and John is Horny. Not that John would do anything that Blaze is uncomfortable with - just the idea that Blaze is holding John back from something that he really wants to do while simultaneously being really stuck on the idea of monogamy and being uncomfortable with the idea ofo John being with anyone else sexually if they're in a relationship.

6) and fear that if he says yes then He's Stuck. can't back out, can't break off, without losing John completely as a friend (which is not something John would do even if they did break off for whatever reason). but it's still intense fear, and strongly supported by the idea of 'history repeats itself'.

7) he's also still low-key weirded out by the thought that John was assigned female at birth and while he's Getting Better at that and normalizing it. Being closer than friends before he's finished sorting things out in his head properly only brings up those weirded out feelings more intensely and more frequently until it becomes a potential point of conflict. If they were to ever be a thing, it'd take a lot of time before it started up, for Blaze to be 100% okay and Chill and properly sort through his head around John being trans. Not that Blaze would ever insult or weaponize that against john or anything, just personally working through centuries of stigma/sterotypes/ect and trying to get to a point where that thought isn't weird or bad anymore.

and a few other little reasons here and there but those are the big main ones in the way between a Blaze and John relationship. and I've been trying to keep that in mind when writing stories between them, cause John would totally go out with Blaze, and if Blaze didn't have those blocks, then he'd totally be open to a relationship with John too.

Like, blaze low-key has a crush on John too. And I ship is so hard. And I want it to be a thing but I feel it's unfair to Blaze's character and all the stuff he has to work through himself before he's mentally stable enough to be able to have a healthy relationship with anyone.

and like maybe if no one else existed, yeah, sure, they'd get together at some point but like John isn't going to wait years for the possibility of a relationship with a person who already said 'no'.

So anyway, Hue comes on scene, right?

John is spending more time with Hue and due to the nature of time being limited and the fact that often John operates seperately in Hero Team Missions (he's a spellcaster where the others aren't - he can do a lot of behind the scenes things that the others can't)

Blaze finds himself really really wanting John's company more which makes him question why the fuck and therefore come to the realization that yeah okay fuck fine he's part gay but what the fuck ever John's with someone else already so.

so he's trying to shove down those annoyin' fckn feelings of jealousy, and also starting to distance himself from John and also throwing in some self-hate for missing his chance because Everything Blaze Does has to be low-key toxic (bad blaze stop it-)

and once there's something you Want that's out of reach, suddenly you start forgetting about the reasons why you didn't go for it in the first place when it was available which means at least some of the other barriers are temporarily forgotten - at least, until John is available again, then they'd re-surface with vengeance and more self-hate because now-is-you're-chance-what-are-you-waiting-for -

so anyway Blaze is a (valid) Dramatic Bitch who can't make up his goddamn mind

And right now I'm trying to figure out the new dynamic, and how things end there.

I'm like maybe 20% sure that they might end up turning it into a poly relationship instead of a love triangle

John would be down for that Hue would be down for that

it all just depends on Blaze and his dumb stupid (meant lovingly, they're still valid) limitations and quirks and trauma and shit.

there's nothing solid yet but the idea of it being turned into a poly relationship is rlly appealing to me

also

blaze needs a therapist

I'm pretty sure that's the first time I've said that and I don't know why I haven't said it sooner but Blaze needs a therapist.

vampires getting therapists isn't something that ever happens for lots of stupid and dumb (not valid) reasons but maybe maaaayyyyybeeeeeee Raknu can pull some strings, talk to some people, ya know. Maybe try and find a therapist who's willing to come in and try and talk to a vampire with hundreds of years of Shit.

raknu can claim it's for the good of the team, and teamwork, and shiz. I mean, having a vampire on a hero team at all is a New Thing, Blaze was one of the first. So obviously, there'll the other New Things that arise from this, that can bypass stupid rules

well I guess for Blaze to see a therapist Blaze would have to actually be willing to ya know.

see the therapist

that's more unlikely than raknu being able to call one in that's open to it

Blaze does not have a very good opinion on therapists. Blaze thinks they're all quacks and wishy-washy idiots

siiiiiiigh

blaze why why do you have to be this way like, you've got a whole bunch of Good Things that you could've had why do you have to be stubborn

all of these good things literally just hinge on you.

it's okay though

blaze is just taking the scenic route the long way around to Good Times.

I think what would be required for Blaze to see a therapist would be for someone he sees as similar to him - not wishy-washy, negativity and toxic central, similar opinion of therapists in general - to go in and see one first, and actually be helped and have their life improved.

then maybe blaze would give it a try and-

ooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

heheheheheheh

AHAHAHAHAHAHA

this is where it comes full circle!!!

This is perfect!!!!

Hue!

it all comes back to HUE!

Hue goes to therapy which then convinces Blaze to accept therapy which means Blaze can actually Work Through Some Of His Shit

and then we can have a valid Poly Relationship with John and Blaze and Hue and it wouldn't have been possible without Hue which low-key starts them off in a positive relationship, which is bolstered by John really liking Hue, and therefor Blaze has someone else he can Really Actually Enjoy And Feel Comfortable Around instead of being stuck on just John

Bonus Little Story Thing For Making It This Far:

Blaze tentatively kisses the top of Smol John’s head, giving a hesitant little smile. John blushes and grins, leaning against the vampire.

Glancing up though, Blaze sees Hue with a raised eyebrow and a an amused smirk.

A very intense possessiveness washes over Blaze. Blaze makes direct eye contact with Hue.

“aAURG!! wHAt the HECK!!!” John exclaims as Blaze’s teeth firmly rest on his back, pressing him into the tongue protecting him from the vampire’s bottom teeth.

Blaze lifts John up from his hand like that, pulling his tongue in and bringing John with it. John fumbles for an oxygen tank from his pockets.

Blaze maintains eye contact with Hue the entire time, swallowing the small form.

Hue is amused, a little disturbed, but mostly confused.

Finally Hue breaks the silence. “Couldn’t resist such a snacc, huh?”

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multipandombabe · 5 years

Text

The only reason for a fight

🍃 here! on the podcast david said the only reason he can imagine for getting in a physical fight is if someone was sexually harassing his girlfriend. so i used that as a prompt for this. also this is long as hell so if anyone actually reads the whole thing you have my heart:

“So are you gonna let me buy you a drink or what?” he asked.

Here you were standing in the shadow of some random stranger, a confident smile on his lips and a drunken brightness in his eyes. He had targeted you right next to the bar’s bathroom as you were walking out. He stopped you with a casual, “Hey, do I know you from somewhere?” and as soon as he had your attention he was talking your ear off. He wanted to know your name, how old you were, what brought you to that bar, what you did for a living, on and on. You could see now that he was just massaging your ego a little before he swooped in with the question he’d been waiting to ask.

“Oh, sorry, no. I actually have a boyfriend,” you responded awkwardly. You scanned the crowded bar behind him at the mention of your boyfriend, trying desperately to find your escape.

Your eyes finally fell on David’s across the room and he looked at you inquisitively. You returned him a wide-eyed look. A plea for him to come rescue you from this uncomfortable moment. He understood the message and started to shuffle toward you through the fray.

“Oh what, he doesn’t let you drink?” the stranger asked with a patronizing smile. “Are you gonna get in trouble?”

“No,” you laugh feebly, trying to pretend his persistence wasn’t irritating you. “It’s no biggie, just think it would be a little weird.”

At that moment David reached you two. He was being tailed by a drunk Zane and a mostly sober Scotty.

“Speak of the devil,” you laughed, pointing him out to the guy you’d been speaking to. He whirled around to face David, standing quite a few inches over your boyfriend’s 5’10” frame. “This is him? Dude, you’re not taking care of your woman. Where’s her drink?” David rolled his eyes a little, but kept his cool. “Did you want something babe?” he asked, reaching out and placing a hand around your waist. He spun you around so that you stood next to him, facing this outsider in a pair. “Yeah, let’s go grab something,” you suggest, trying to lead the conversation to a natural close. This guy wasn’t about to let you get away that easy though. “Hmm see, you’re not keeping her satisfied man,” his voice shook a little with laughter at the double meaning in his own words. “Maybe I should take her off your hands.” “No thanks,” you quipped. “Alright sweetheart,” he said, hitting the dreaded word with brutal condescension. “Just let me know if you get bored with this guy and need someone who can show you a little fun.” He winked at you. “Yo dude, can you back the fuck off?” David asked. His voice was still calm. He was always level headed at his core, but you could feel the grip on your waist tighten a little. He was pissed, but good at hiding exactly how pissed. You figured you’d have to leave this bar soon after this or David would be staring daggers at this guy all night. “Chill David,” Zane slurred. “We’re all… friendsss here. And we’re just like hanging out so every— everybody relax.” The sight of a drunk Zane trying to mediate the little row made you laugh out loud. “Yeah he’s right, let’s go get that drink,” you giggled. “No more for Zane though. See you around man.” You gave a tiny wave and turned away from the stranger, happy your friends were there to diffuse the tension. The second you had pivoted, though, it seems you were wrong about that being the end of things. “See you baby,” he said and reached out a hand, smacking your ass hard. That motion was like lighting a stick of dynamite. This douchebag had accidentally triggered a Rube Goldberg machine of chaos and David was at the helm of it. When you had turned David’s feet had stayed planted for a split second longer. That was enough time for him to watch the man in front of him reach out and touch his girlfriend. Without warning. Without permission. And without remorse, which was clear from the laughter that painted his face. David swerved around your body, jostling you to the side. In a moment he was in this guy’s face, a venom in his voice you’d never heard before. “You don’t fucking touch her!” David shouted, spit flying out of his mouth at the man in front of him. “Fucking apologize asshole.” “And if I don’t?” he asked. He towered over David. Not only was he taller, but he was built too. David’s slender gait was no physical match for him. You could tell he knew this and to him there was no threat in provoking David. He was just having fun. “Or I’ll fucking kick your ass pussy,” David spat. “Yeah, I’d love to see that,” the stranger responded, laughing. You could see why he found the situation so funny. David had no chance in hell against him and a deep fear suddenly blared up your spine. “Dave, Dave please,” you tugged at him desperately. “It’s not worth it.” You really wanted to scream, “Look at him! He could kill you if he wanted to,” but you didn’t want to crush your boyfriend’s already bruised ego. You kept pulling, but it was no use. David wound back one of his hands, bound in a fist, and socked the stranger right across the face. He flinched. The punch surprised him, but he just shook it off and returned one to David. Unfortunately, the impact was much greater. So much greater that David was already laying face down on the floor by the time your brain registered everything and a scream left your mouth. You were blinded by your adrenaline and shock in the next moments. Time seemed to come in waves instead of linearity now. It felt like you were watching your own body instead of participating. Like you were lightheaded and drunk. Each moment kept hitting you without expectation. You were on your knees, rolling David over to face upward. You were shaking him and he was blinking up at you in confusion. You felt Scotty accidentally kick your arm when he lunged to hold the man who attacked David back. The bouncers were on you, yelling about you guys getting the fuck out of there if you’re gonna behave like that. You were outside sitting on the curb examining David’s face. You traced the bruise along his jawline and you both winced. He held the tissue from your purse to his face to catch the blood falling from his nose and mouth. Suddenly you were in the backseat of an Uber, unsure of how you’d gotten there. You didn’t realize you were crying until a tear rolled into your mouth. “It’s okay,” David said, his voice muffled by the tissue. “I’m honestly alright y/n.” You were coming to your senses now and you drew in a few sharp breaths, trying to calm down. You assessed the situation. Scott was in the front passenger seat of the car, an uneasy look on his face. Zane was seated directly behind him in the back, with you in the middle seat and David behind the driver. “Me?” you asked, realizing suddenly how embarrassed you were to be crying. You wiped your tears. “Baby your face is…” you trailed off. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to say. You didn’t want to rub it in. “You should see the other guy,” he joked. “Oh baby, he’s fine. Believe me,” Zane threw back. They shared a laugh. David pulled the tissue off his face and jammed it in his pocket. “Look bleedings gone anyway,” he shrugged. A bit of dried blood was plastered across his bruised cheek, but otherwise he was right. “My thumb hurts more than my face,” he whined. “You’re not supposed to tuck your thumbs in when you punch someone David,” Scott said from the front seat. He was starting to relax a little too after hearing the other two boys joking around. “You’re lucky you didn’t break your own thumb on top of being knocked on your ass.” Everyone laughed. You tried to smile too but your face just tightened into a grimace. “I’m really fine,” David said, but you weren’t convinced. The boys spent the rest of the ride with their vlog cameras on David, re-enacting the story. They embellished it with jokes, something about David versus Goliath, and gave the viewers a tour of the damage along David’s chin. You knew he was over the whole thing. He was hyped on the adrenaline and the fact that he was getting content. You couldn’t move on so quickly though. It wasn’t just the pain that you guessed was probably making his head throb. It was the potential assault charge thy could’ve happened. It was the DACA situation. It was the fear that the little punch could’ve turned into a much bigger problem if things were slightly different. The thought that you caused this just kept panging in your head over and over. When you finally got to David’s house you were in full nurse mode. You had him sitting on his bathroom counter, a bag of frozen veggies stuck to his cheek as you used a wet washcloth to gently wipe the blood from his lips. Zane and Scott were long gone and it was just the two of you. You finished cleaning him up, pulled the makeshift ice pack away from his face, and stepped back to look at him. “David,” you winced. “It’s so bad.” He twisted his torso around to look at himself in the mirror over the counter. “Nah, it’s not that bad. I think it looks kinda badass actually. Now people know not to fuck with me.” At that you sighed and dropped your head against his shoulder. He wasn’t going to let you feel guilty. It wasn’t his nature, but nonetheless you felt like you were crumbling. “Come on, look at me.” he said, putting a finger under your chin and lifting your head. “I’m alright. Deadass. I swear, okay?” You nodded feebly. “But fuck David. That could’ve been so much worse. You can’t just react like that cause some dickhead is messing with you.” “Not messing with me,” he shook his head. “Messing with you. No one gets to touch you but me.” He dropped his hands from your face and slide them around your ass, lifting you toward him a little. He knew you loved when he held your ass when you were making out or he was fucking you. He was trying his best to melt the tension in you. “It’s not worth it,” you tried to counter. “It is worth it. It’s the only thing that’s worth it. That motherfucker deserves to get his ass beat. I really wish I could’ve fucked him up but I tried my best.” He laughed half-heartedly. You tried to smile back him. Although the swelling in his lip was finally going down and his black t-shirt masked the blood that had spilled, you could still see the carnage fresh in your mind. You leaned forward and kissed him as softly as you could. Just a peck on the lips. An apology. But he was too indulgent for his own good as always and he leaned into it. His lips parted, kissing you deeper until he pulled back with a distraught look on his face. He shook it off quickly. “David,” you chastised. “I’m fine,” he shrugged off your concern and went to lean in again. You pulled away. You weren’t about to let him hurt himself again. You placed your hands on his knees and slowly snaked them up his thighs. You had suddenly thought of a better way to apologize. Your hand reached where his dick was resting inside his jeans and you glided your hand slowly back and forth over it. “Can I try and make you feel better? Please baby?” you whispered, looking directly in his eyes. He just whimpered and nodded. With painstaking slowness you reached for his belt buckle, undoing it and letting it clatter loudly on the bathroom floor. “Pants down,” you said sternly and he obliged you. He lifted his butt off the counter and shimmied his jeans to his ankles. You could see his dick stiffening in his boxers and you took one last glance up at him. He was so pretty, even when he was disheveled like this. His jaw was imbued with a deep purple, which was mixing with the darkness of his five o’clock shadow. His lip was split a little on one side. His hair was a mess. He smelled like sweat and blood. Even so, he radiated charm and smirked back at you as if inviting you to continue despite the mess. You placed kisses along his thighs, starting at his knee and working toward the hem of his underwear. You finally inserted your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pulled his dick free. You paced yourself with the process. You started by licking a circle around the head, letting a little spit drip from your mouth to wet the shaft. His whole body twitches under you at the sensation. His fingers gripped the edge of the counter, turning his knuckles white. “Don’t tease me baby,” he winced. You took him in your mouth slowly, letting a little laugh echo from your throat. The vibration around his cock made him lose his grip on the counter and lace his fingers in your hair. You let him catch his breath for a minute, taking his dick out of your mouth and looking up at him. He gulped and let go of your hair, returning his hands to the counter. “I like having your hands in my hair,” you reassured him. “I like feeling how badly you want it.” You maintained eye contact as you dipped down to the base of his cock and ran your flattened tongue from base to tip. Tired of teasing, you took all of him that you could fit into your mouth. Your hand worked the rest of the way in matched rhythm. His hands found your hair again and he helped guide you up and down as you sucked his dick. “Baby, right there. Please don’t fucking stop. Please baby. Please.” His words just made you moan along his cock. He bucked his hips upwards unintentionally. “Sorry! Shit that feels so fucking good. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.” He tried to stop himself from completely facefucking you, although you weren’t making it easy on him. You pulled his dick out of your mouth entirely, licked up the side once more before deepthroating him. You pulled up instantly, as it wasn’t your strong suit, earning a little gag and a trail of spit. He breathed out heavily, appreciating the effort, and throwing his head back against the mirror. “Fuck. You feel so good baby. Fuck. Fuck,” was all he could mumble. You used your own spit to jerk him off for a second before returning him to your mouth. You felt his fingernails dig into your scalp a little. “You’re gonna make me cum y/n.” He warned you. You sucked harder, letting him know where you wanted it to go. His cock twitched in your mouth as he understood your movements. “Fuck,” he was nearly yelling at this point. “I’m gonna cum. Please don’t stop.” You milked the last few seconds for all they were worth until you felt his release fill your mouth. He shuddered through his orgasm and let out a loud moan. His breathing was fast and shallow as he leaned back against the mirror. You let him catch his breath while you kissed his dick once, mostly for your own benefit, and then kissed his thighs, knees, wrists, and fingers. Every surface you could see earned a kiss. “How was that?” you asked. “Amazing babygirl,” he panted. “Feel better.” “Oh definitely.”

#david dobrik imagine #david dobrik smut #david dobrik blurb #submission

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lady-divine-writes · 6 years

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Klaine one-shot - “Blackbird Singing in the Dead of Night” (Rated PG)

Kurt goes roaming through the woods on the outskirts of Dalton, trying to clear his head. He gets lost, and while he's alone, he runs into a feathery confidante who listens to him gripe about his love life ... or lack thereof. (3645 words)

Notes: This is a re-write, but I think I might like this one a little bit better. It's literally 180 degrees different from the story it's based off of. Please let me know what you all think. :) Also I know you guys are all going to get the twist in the first few paragraphs. You don't need to tell me xD

Read on AO3.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night … take these broken wings and learn to fly … all your life … you were only waiting for this moment to arise …

Kurt had started singing to punctuate the quiet as he walked the grounds of Dalton Academy, but the more he focuses on the words, on what they mean to him, the more they bring tears to his eyes.

How is it that, by taking a step forward, he’d managed to take so many steps backward?

He’d come to Dalton to escape the bullying he’d been enduring, unchecked, for years at his old high school.

And it worked.

But it came at a price, larger than the hefty one his father had to pay to enroll him here.

Behind Dalton’s red brick walls, where he’s free to be his true and authentic self, he feels more confused than ever. Wasn’t coming out supposed to be the difficult part? But he’d gone through that with flying colors (aside from the roided up jock who’d threatened to kill him). He had the support of his father and his closest friends. And to top it off, he’d found his new sanctuary - a school where he could walk down the hallways with his head held high, and absolutely no fear of being tossed into a dumpster or shoved into a locker.

He should feel complete. Fulfilled.

But he’s not quite there yet.

There’s something missing.

Being accepted for who he is was only half of the dream.

Finding love with someone like him was the other half.

How often had he lamented the fact that he couldn’t walk the halls of McKinley with a boy, or take a boy to prom?

He still can’t, but at Dalton, theoretically, he can.

And when he’d imagined his mythical boyfriend, he didn’t have anyone in mind.

But now, he does.

For all intents and purposes, he’s in love.

And as far as he can tell, the boy in question loves him back …

… as a friend.

Kurt thought he could handle that, thought he could be the supportive bestie while his crush explored his options, and the boundaries of his sexuality, but it’s harder than he thought it would be.

It’s kind of breaking his heart.

Whoever said better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all can go die in a fire because this – this ache in his chest that gets worse every time Kurt sees him, that keeps him awake at night, that grows thorns and pierces his heart with every breath – sucks.

Kurt stops singing but keeps walking, his feet carrying him past the lacrosse field towards a tree line at the edge of the grounds that he’s never explored before. He knows it’s part of Dalton since the outermost limits of the property are surrounded by a high stone fence that you have to drive through when you arrive on campus. Every inch of the grounds are patrolled by security day and night so, technically, it should be safe.

Still, it looks like the kind of place a lone protagonist might get murdered by a masked man with a chainsaw, even at four in the afternoon.

But Kurt can’t help himself. He keeps walking. He has to make it there. Those trees – looming tall, each topped by a thick crown of green leaves blotting out the sky - seem to be calling him, as if they know of his confusion and have the answers he seeks.

Kurt sighs. He knows he must be lonely – or going insane – if he’s about to consult with trees. Too bad he didn’t bring his phone. He could have called Rachel. Or Mercedes. They’d drive over in a snap bearing popcorn, chocolate, and a stack of old musicals to help him through this crisis.

The only reason he didn’t?

He’s embarrassed.

Leaving McKinley for Dalton, leaving New Directions for The Warblers, was supposed to solve all of his problems.

He doesn’t feel like admitting it didn’t.

He’d feel silly and shallow telling them why.

He walks deeper into the woods (if he can call it that), far enough that he can’t see the towers of Dalton when he turns around. Far enough that he can’t see anything but trees behind him … and that’s when he realizes his mistake. Having turned a full circle twice, he no longer remembers in which direction he came. He’s not a Boy Scout. Kurt Hummel doesn’t do the outdoors. He doesn’t hike.

He has no clue why he chose to start now, alone, and without a link to civilization.

Great. Just great. He came out here to the solitude of nature to find a solution to his problems, and he created a bigger one.

He’s going to die.

In retrospect, that might solve a few of his problems. Plus, it would be poetic. And what else could he ask for in a death (other than it happen in a hundred years instead of today)?

Calm down, he tells himself. You’re not going to die. If he just stays where he is, security is sure to happen by eventually. Or another student. He can’t be the only person who’s ever decided to go walking through these trees.

Kurt turns another circle, squinting through the cluster of trunks, trying to pinpoint a navy blue jacket, or a security officer’s uniform.

Or one of those red cloaked monsters from the movie The Village.

Those vibrant red cloaks remind Kurt of the letterman jackets worn by the jocks at McKinley, how he would jump out of his skin whenever he saw a hint of one turning a corner, or passing by the choir room when he was alone inside, and his blood turns to ice. He holds his breath, listening for the sound of footsteps in the dried leaves, the snapping of twigs, overcome by the feeling that he’s not alone.

That he is, in fact, being watched.

He swallows hard, his heart a lump so heavy, it almost drags him to the ground. He considers calling out: “Hello? Is there anyone there?” when he hears a scream – loud and piercing, coming from nearby. He freezes, the sound just about stopping his heart. He grabs his messenger bag, slung around his shoulder, and hugs it to his chest, since it’s the only thing he has with him that can be used as a weapon. He mentally inventories the items inside: two pencils, his spiral bound notebook, his calculus text book, some sheet music - hardly anything he could use to fend off an ax murderer. The calculus book weighs about ten pounds, so if he threw it hard enough, that might slow down his attacker. The pencils are his best bet, but they, unfortunately, are a close quarters sort of weapon.

The sheet music is entirely useless, unless he finds himself pursued by a homicidal maniac with a penchant for show tunes.

Kurt remains still as solid stone, waiting to see if that scream will happen again, even though he knows it would probably be a wiser decision to run. He may not know which direction the dorms are, but anywhere but here seems like a good direction to go. As his feet come close to acting on that decision, he hears the screech again - closer this time.

It doesn’t sound human. That’s a positive, he guesses.

But it does sound like it’s coming from directly above him, and that’s a definite negative.

Kurt rolls his eyes up, his body shaking as he visualizes the kind of creature that might make that sound poised in the branches above him, waiting for him to notice it so it can pounce on him monster movie style. But it’s not above him. It’s in the tree beside him, up and to the left, on a branch growing perpendicularly out from the trunk and stretching its woody fingers over his head.

It’s not a monster. It’s a raven, peering down at him with what seems to be a curious expression on its feathery, black face.

The two consider one another in silence. Then, unexpectedly, the bird opens its beak and emits the same, guttural screech. Kurt yelps in surprise.

“Oh, Jesus Christmas! Do you have to do that?” he snaps. He hasn’t seen a real live raven before so he never knew they sounded like that – like an old man choking on toast. But there is a sense of gravitas to this moment. From the little he knows about ornithology, ravens are rare in Ohio. If he had his phone with him, he’d be taking a ton of pictures right now.

Maybe he could show them to Mr. Phelps, his life science teacher, and bring up his grade.

He makes a note to never forget his phone on any outing he takes ever again.

He steps back to get a better look at the black smudge of an animal inclining questioningly at him. It caws, head bobbing left and right, watching him with keen interest.

“What am I doing here?” Kurt asks, assuming that’s the only question this bird might have for him, seeing as Kurt has been asking himself that same question for the past several minutes. Why the heck is he in this forest? What did he think he was going to find in here?

The raven caws.

“I’m just … going for a walk,” Kurt explains. “Clearing my head. Trying to get my thoughts in order. I’m … actually struggling through some things. Relationship sort of issues … or the lack thereof.” Kurt blinks at the raven staring down at him and frowns. “And … you’re a raven. You don’t understand a word I’m saying.”

The raven recites a series of mimicked word segments that sound unsettlingly like an answer. Then it sits on its branch and tilts its head – its default position for waiting for Kurt’s response.

But Kurt knows it’s not. He knows rationally that a raven, as intelligent as they are, is not asking him questions, nor waiting for an answer. But Kurt is tired – emotionally beat. He has things he needs to get off his chest, but he has been hard pressed to find a non-invested third party ear anywhere.

He had originally intended on commiserating with the trees. He’s in no position to be picky.

Besides, he just needs to vent. He doesn’t necessarily want someone to solve his problems, just to listen.

Considering his limited options, bird it is.

Alright, he thinks. Here goes nothing.

“If you want to know, then here it is.” Kurt sighs, and for all of the ridiculous this is, it seems the raven takes a step closer and leans a hair in. “I transferred to Dalton expecting everything in my life to change for the better. And it has, for the most part. I feel free – free to be me for the first time in my life. With a few minor exceptions, Dalton is everything I could have asked for and more … except for one thing.” The raven takes a step closer, tilts its head in the opposite direction, and continues to stare, patiently waiting. Kurt stares back at it, expecting it to tire of him and fly away just to prove his point, but it jerks its head up as if encouraging him to continue. “You see, Mr. Bird … can I call you Mr. Bird?” The raven clucks. Kurt takes that as a yes. “There’s this guy. His name is Blaine. He’s my best friend, and I would never, ever want to lose his friendship, but …” He cringes at how clingy he sounds. How whiny. “I don’t want to sound reductive. I don’t want my life to be about needing a boyfriend, because it’s not. My life is about me. Me, me, me. I know that. I really do, but … it feels so good having him around - having someone standing in my corner, cheering me on, holding my hand when things get rough. Someone who isn’t my dad, or my friends from Glee. Someone who looks at me and sees the things that have been so hard for me to see my whole life.” Kurt puts up a defensive hand, as if afraid the raven is going to butt in before he gets the chance to finish. “Don’t get me wrong. I’ve always known that I’m better than Ohio, better than McKinley, better than the bullies and the drama. I don’t necessarily need him to point that out to me. I can stand on my own two feet.” Kurt shakes his head. “But it’s nice, you know? I don’t need a boyfriend. But I’d like one. I’ve never had a boyfriend before, and I’d like it to be him.”

The raven ruffles it wings, clucks softly, and Kurt can’t help the crazy feeling that the thing honestly seems interested.

“I’m sure you know,” Kurt jokes to get over the awkwardness that he’s pouring his heart out to a bird. “Flying all over, you must stumble upon people falling in love from time to time? An impromptu proposal in the park, or friends skating on the Auglaize River in winter, discovering for the first time together just how much they love one another? Or maybe I’m just a silly romantic, and I should get my head out of the clouds. I want a chance with him so badly. But, if it was meant to happen, shouldn’t it have happened by now? I mean, we have coffee together every day, we sing flirty duets together …” Kurt shoots a nervous glance around on the off-chance other ears are overhearing this part of the conversation. There aren’t any. It’s just him, the raven, and the trees. “I thought … all of that meant something. But I think I just made it all up in my head? Didn’t I? I mean, what did I expect? For him to show up at my bedroom door with a red rose and say, ‘I’ve been waiting for you my entire life. Please go out with me?’?”

The raven hops down a few branches closer to him.

“It’s not just that he’s handsome,” Kurt muses with a far off look. “He’s talented, kind, charming ... I’ve never met anyone like him. I look up to him. He’s confident, and so damned sure of himself. Sometimes it’s almost like he’s not human or something. Or … you know … too good to be true.” Kurt leans back on an obliging tree and exhales. “And you know what they say – if something’s too good to be true, it usually is.” Kurt picks at a sliver of loose bark, working it away from the trunk as he talks. “I wish I was better at the casual flirting thing, you know?” He asks the question, expecting an answer. When he doesn’t get one, he makes a face for being stupid, but feels compelled to continue. “I wish I had some kind of sign, that I knew for certain he and I are on the same wavelength. That he’s not just that way with everybody. That he’s interested in me … as more than a friend.”

Clouds pass overhead, and the sky suddenly darkens. From what Kurt can see of their grey silhouettes, it looks like it might rain. The raven twists to look over its shoulder, at the sunlight barely breaking through the cover, then back at Kurt, giving him an apologetic sounding caw, and Kurt knows that their conversation has come to an end.

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Go on.” Kurt waves the bird away. “I know you’ve got … raven things to do. Thanks for the ear. I’d better get going, too … if I can find my way out of this place.”

The raven hops up to a higher branch, ready to launch, but before it spreads its wings, it gestures ahead with an emphatic nod. Kurt looks in that direction, and with a hint of understanding, points.

“That way?” he says, feeling the stupidest he has since this began. But considering he’s lost, he’s not about to look a potential gift horse in the mouth. “Dalton is that way?”

The raven caws. It sounds affirmative.

“Well, thank you very much, Mr. Bird. I’ll be seeing you … I guess.”

The bird nods again and takes off. It circles once overhead, then flies away. Kurt watches the raven go, swiftly climbing higher, disappearing above the leaves. Kurt wishes he could fly away, too. Not from Dalton, per se, but from himself for a while. Take a break from his hectic life and his confusing feelings so he can come up with an answer to this. Pluck up the courage to do what he wants to do and ask Blaine out. Birds have long been thought of as messengers of the natural world, right? Maybe this raven, appearing out of nowhere in a place where it shouldn’t logically be and listening to his woes, is the sign Kurt was looking for.

But a sign of what exactly?

Only Kurt can answer that question. No mystical bird can make that decision for him.

And he can’t expect the universe to lend him a hand twice in one day.

***

It’s around eight o’clock in the evening when a knock on the door of Kurt’s room lures him out his ear buds and the super angsty playlist he’d compiled earlier just for the occasion. It was a combination of show tunes he’d been narrowing down for an upcoming audition, along with some standard ballads, and a few top 40 tunes he thought Blaine would appreciate.

Songs they could be listening to if they were in his room together, lying side by side on his bed, sharing his ear buds, and enjoying the rain that had been falling steadily for the last few hours. Kurt always thought of rain as romantic, but right now, it only seemed to emphasize how lonely he felt.

“Who is it?” Kurt calls, puzzled because he’s not expecting anyone.

The halls have been quiet since before dinner time. It’s Friday night, and a large majority of the boys in his dorm head home over the weekend … including Blaine. He would be, too, except he has a huge project due in lit class on Monday. Besides, Finn would be spending the weekend attached to Rachel’s hip, and he wasn’t in the mood to act as third wheel. When no one answers, he says, “I’m coming,” and gets up to open the door. He fully expects to find the hallway empty, himself the victim of a good-natured practical joke, probably by Jeff or Nick. They’d been hounding him lately to tell them what’s up. They always seem to be the first to notice when something is bothering anyone. But instead, he comes face to face with Blaine, standing somewhat strangely with one arm tucked behind his back. Kurt’s face lights up.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Blaine says, a guilty look on his face. “I’m sorry. I know it’s late, but I waited till the dorm emptied out because I wanted to get you alone.”

“No, no, no. That’s okay.” Kurt steals a quick glance at Blaine’s outfit. He’s out of uniform, and a bit less casually dressed than usual in pale yellow slacks and a short-sleeved white button down, with a black-and-white checkered sweater vest over that. His hair is slicked down, as per usual, but it looks more meticulously styled.

Like he’s going on a date.

Which brings Kurt’s attention to the state of his own clothes - half dressed in his uniform, blazer gone, tie loosened, top button unbuttoned. He’s barefoot, and his slacks have to be wrinkled to the high heavens. He’s not sure that his room is Blaine’s last stop, but he feels like he should excuse himself for a moment to change.

“Shoot,” Kurt says, crossing his arms over his chest self-consciously. “What’s so important that you waited until now to talk to me?”

“Uh … you are, actually.” Blaine pulls his hand from behind his back, and with it, a single red rose. It’s positively exquisite – the single most beautiful rose Kurt has ever seen. “Because I’ve begun to realize that maybe I’ve been a tad too subtle when it comes to my feelings towards you. I’m not good at romance, Kurt. I know how to act it out in song ...”

“You’ve told me that before,” Kurt interrupts, his eyes leaving the rose to focus on Blaine’s face.

“I know. But what I want to re-iterate is the I don’t want to screw this up part. Because I think there’s a chance that I have been. I’ve been stumbling through a mess of new feelings, most of them for you, and I haven’t been handling them well. And for that, I apologize.” He takes Kurt’s hand, raises it, and slips the rose between his fingers. Then he leans forward and whispers: “I’ve been waiting for you my entire life, Kurt. Please … go out with me?”

Kurt looks at Blaine, and his beautiful rose, in awe. How had he gone from hoping for exactly this to it showing up at his doorstep in one day? Kurt had no idea. He wasn’t that lucky. “How did you know …?” Kurt shakes his head, disbelieving, unable to complete that question. Because Kurt can only come up with one answer, and it’s too impossible to believe.

That raven wasn’t necessarily a sign, he tells himself.

Maybe his luck is simply changing.

Falling in love with your best friend? It happened every day, didn’t it? Why shouldn’t it happen to him?

“Call it intuition.” Blaine shrugs, smiling as Kurt puts the rose to his nose and sniffs. “Or … we can say a little birdy told me.”

#klaine fanfiction #Klaine fic #klaine #frankie writes

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sexywmatsui48 · 6 years

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Acceptance | Chapter 10

Previously: PROLOGUE - CHAPTER 1 - CHAPTER 2 - CHAPTER 3 - CHAPTER 4 - CHAPTER 5 - CHAPTER 6 - CHAPTER 7 - CHAPTER 8 - CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

Tonight, something was definitely not right with her.

Jurina grabbed the bed sheet and pulled it up to cover her nude form, a frustrated groan escaping her lips as she stared helplessly at the dark ceiling above her head. The bedroom had fallen instantaneously quiet, only the sound of Nana’s soft breathing reminding her that she wasn’t alone. The naked girl laying by her side wasn’t saying a word nor making a single move, yet Jurina could practically feel Nana’s questioning eyes boring into her, evidently curious to discover the reasons behind her unusual sexual impotence.

On this Friday evening, Jurina had used the opportunity that Mayu was absent and spending the night at Yuki’s place to invite Nana over. Her hope was that the feminine presence would procure plenty distraction to finally get out of her head a certain long, dark-haired stripper. However, nevermind Nana’s powerful charms and indisputable technical skills when it came to the sexual field, Jurina hadn’t been able to truly enjoy herself since she arrived.

At first, when she had welcomed the girl into her apartment, Jurina was pretty confident that Nana would successfully be able to put her in the right mood. Soon, she found herself greatly disillusioned. The sensual curves of Nana’s attractive, gorgeous body. The provocative, dirty words Nana had playfully whispered inside her ear. The pleasant touch of Nana’s slender, expert fingers that had teased her member through the fabric of her boxers, until completely stripping her bare.

Unfortunately, none of Nana’s usual, clever tricks had managed to produce the desired effect. When a voice inside Jurina’s head was urging her to pull herself together and take advantage of the situation to take her mind off things, her body was manifestly not on the same page. No matter how willingly she had accepted every one of Nana’s advances, and meekly allowed the older girl to do as she pleased with her body, the latter stubbornly refused to respond to any verbal and physical stimulation.

The feeling of Nana’s warm insides enveloping her sex as Nana climbed on top of her and slowly rode her should have been sufficient to finally fire up her sexual desire, but Jurina was forced to note that it wasn’t working as she expected. For a little while longer, she let the older girl to continue and set the pace – convinced that the tide would surely turn in her favor at minute now – only to have her hopes ultimately crushed.

Despite Nana’s best efforts, she wasn’t getting excited.

She had faced nothing but Nana’s astonishment when she had decidedly seized the other girl’s hips and asked her to stop. The stripper had opened her mouth a few times, as if she wanted to protest, but had complied when she had firmly yet gently repeated her demand, Nana removing herself from her lap and quietly lying by her side the moment after.

“It happens to everyone,” Nana’s soft, reassuring tone eventually broke the silence between them. “Don’t worry too much about it.”

“It never happened to me before,” Jurina immediately retorted.

“Maybe you’re not in the mood for it today,” Nana confidently added. “Is something troubling you lately? Do you want to talk about it?”

Jurina tilted her head in Nana’s direction, considering her offer. Of course, Nana was perfectly right: she had indeed not been herself lately. More than three weeks had already passed since her last encounter with Rena at The Blue Moon and, despite the painful way in which they had parted, the beautiful stripper still haunted her nights. Returning to the club to see her again? It was simply inconceivable.

Jurina would never be able to erase from her head the stupor she had witnessed in Rena’s eyes upon the revelation of her true nature.

Nevermind how many times Jurina kept repeating to herself that she had undoubtedly been rejected and she ought to move on for her own mental sanity, it was easier said than done. Rena had left such an imprint on her heart; she had awoken new feelings within her. If only she had bravely held her tongue for a few more weeks, then she would have been able to relish Rena’s presence in her arms a little while longer.

Buy herself more time.

Delay the inevitable a long as possible, until the harsh reality came crushing her fantasy of finding someone who could fully accept her for who she was.

At night, when she couldn’t find sleep and remembered with anguish what she had irrevocably lost because of her abnormality, Jurina couldn’t help but curse being born different. If she could have been the girl Rena wanted her to be, then maybe they would have had a future together. But it was all over; there was no turning back now that Rena had discovered the dreadful truth about her.

“Why don’t we try something else? Something new?”

Nana’s voice suddenly jolted her out of her thoughts and, progressively coming back to reality, Jurina brought her full attention back on her. “Something new?”

“Yes. A position we never tried before,” Nana suggested, stroking Jurina’s arm sensuously. “Or maybe I could fulfill one of your fantasies?”

“A fantasy? I don’t have any.”

Nana leered at her slyly. “Oh come on, everyone has a fantasy. Don’t you have a crush on a celebrity? A singer, an actress. Whoever it might me, we could do some fun roleplay.”

“Wha-” Jurina couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It was true she had explored her sexuality and played many different sexual games with Akane, but she had never ventured into that kind of territory. “Wait, you are really serious.”

“Of course,” Nana grinned maliciously. “You don’t need to tell me who it is, only to play along and pretend that she is me. I’ve already done this plenty of times: I promise you will enjoy it. What about an idol? They are pretty popular nowadays.”

“I have no interest in idols,” Jurina scoffed.

Nana raised an eyebrow. “You don’t? But I’m sure there has to be a girl that you like. There is always someone.”

Jurina smiled uncomfortably at her. “I know you’re only trying to help me out, but I’m not sure I’m in the mood for some roleplay.”

“You didn’t try to deny it,” Nana smirked in victory. Leaning forward, her lips trailed over Jurina’s jaw, then down her neck, leaving a few wet kisses along the way. “Trust me. It will be fun.”

“No, it’s not a good idea,” Jurina tried to backpedal, catching Nana’s wandering fingers as they were sneakily pulling the bedsheet below Jurina’s chest. “Really, it’s going to be fine. The money is on the table. Just take it and lea-”

Jurina gasped when her lips were abruptly captured into a possessive kiss, widening her eyes in stupefaction at Nana’s action when the kiss was broken, and the stripper’s mischievous expression fell on her. “What does she look like? Long, dark hair? Attractive? Confident personality? Something is telling me that this is your type of girls. Am I wrong?”

Jurina swallowed in unease: she didn’t like the dangerous direction this conversation was taking. Even less when Rena’s image invaded her mind so easily, as Nana was describing her with such disturbing yet astonishing accuracy. “It’s best… It’s best if we don’t continue,” Jurina controlled her voice with an effort.

“You would like to have sex with her, don’t you?” Nana ignored her protest and smiled suggestively, running her fingers down Jurina’s exposed chest. “If you could have her right now, what would you do to her?”

Unceremoniously, Nana’s right hand cupped her sex underneath the bedsheet.

Jurina shuddered at the contact, fluttering her eyes close when Nana slowly began stroking her. Trying desperately to regain some semblance of control over the situation, Jurina tentatively raised her arm to reach Nana and stop her, only to have her determination falter midway. Much as she didn’t want to admit it, Nana’s dirty talk had placed strong, impure thoughts inside her head, triggering her sexual arousal.

“That’s it. Don’t repress your inner desires.” An amused, knowing smile adorned Nana’s features while she increased the pace of her motions around her sex. “You can do anything you want with me. Anything.”

No, this is not… This is not Re-, Jurina tried to struggle against the sweet temptation, but knew she was already far too gone when she felt her member pulsating, at last giving her what she had wanted all evening. Jurina’s breath came in quick shallow gasps, a bright flare of lust springing into her eyes when she met Nana’s proud, almost insolent gaze.

Nana perfectly knew the effect and influence she was having on her; she could feel it distinctly between her fingertips.

Jurina straightened up in bed and reached for Nana’s hand, already half-regretting her action when she pulled her fingers away from her stiff member. She was more than conscious that her imagination was playing tricks on her mind and it wasn’t actually Nana that she was seeing anymore, but she couldn’t find the will nor the strength to care. As Rena’s face lingered in her memory, overlapping for a brief instant with Nana’s, it was more than obvious that the girl pleasuring her right now had unraveled her darkest secret. Yes, she wanted Rena so badly. But she didn’t only want to possess and freely ravish every inch of her skin; she also needed her undivided acceptance and love.

Two things that she would never have.

“Turn around,” Jurina’s voice came out husky, heavy with lust. “I want you. Now.”

Nana’s sudden smile had a spark of eroticism that sent her pulses racing. “Finally,” Nana reduced the distance with her lips, meeting hers in a gentle drugging kiss. “We’re getting somewhere.”

When their mouths parted, the stripper playfully nibbled on Jurina’s earlobe before complying to her demand, and turning her back on her. Jurina kneeled down and positioned herself behind her, her hands not wasting time to explore the soft lines of Nana’s naked back. Nana’s hips instinctively began moving in anticipation when Jurina’s fingers reached her waist, then moved lower to caress her inner thighs.

Jurina slipped a finger through Nana’s folds, finding the waiting warmth, the telling wetness that signaled her readiness. It was all the invitation she needed to seize Nana by the waist and, poking the tip of her hard member at her entrance, penetrated her without hesitation. From Nana’s lips came out a soft cry, that soon transformed into somewhat of a low moan when Jurina slowly pushed inside, deeper and deeper.

Jurina’s eyes were transfixed watching as her sex went all the way in, before sliding nearly all the way out, repeating the same process a few times. As sensations overwhelmed her and she knew Nana’s body could now fully take it, she allowed herself to get more aggressive, letting her sexual desire rage through her. Jurina moved back inside Nana and took her hard and fierce, plunging deeper.

Nana tightly clutched the bedsheet beneath her for support as Jurina pumped into her at a steady rhythm, the sound of their bodies slamming hard together progressively filling the air. While Nana was now moaning more loudly than before, Jurina’s breath was coming out in pants, and she knew she was on the brink of losing it. In the middle of her frenzy, Jurina vaguely distinguished Nana’s slightly erratic voice encouraging her no, urging her to continue, but she knew she wouldn’t have been able to stop even if she wanted.

Jurina slid her hand between Nana’s legs, determined to share the pleasure and have the stripper come with her. Alternating between caressing and squeezing her sensitive spot, she suddenly felt Nana convulsing around her sex, shuddering and shaking as a last moan of ecstasy slipped through her trembling lips.

Jurina thrusted one last time and held herself still, exploding inside her in a long, intense climax. Jurina collapsed on top of Nana’s back, panting from exertion, before coming back to her senses and summoning the little energy she had left to roll off her and flop onto her back. Lazily throwing an arm over her forehead, Jurina listened to the sound of her own heart pounding violently, contemplating what had just happened.

They laid there in silence for a while, giving each other enough time to fully recover from the pleasurable experience, until Nana’s soft murmur sounded in the bedroom. “So it’s her. I should have it seen coming after what happened at the club.”

Jurina frowned, trying to make sense of Nana’s enigmatic words, before turning around to look at her. “What are you talking about?”

Nana’s eyes widened in realization. “You didn’t notice it, did you? While were having sex, you whispered someone’s else name. Rena’s name.”

Jurina stiffened at the revelation. Hastily, she searched her memory to try and recall when such a thing could have possibly happened but to her greatest dismay, her mind was a complete blank. How come she couldn’t remember it at all? Her stupefaction gave way to a progressive feeling of unease, realizing what she had involuntarily said in Nana’s presence. “Nana, I…”

“Calm down. I don’t mind,” Nana chuckled softly. “Besides, it was the whole purpose of this little game, wasn’t it? To have you fulfill one of your fantasies. But there’s something I don’t understand,” Nana’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Rena likes you too, doesn’t she? So why are you here with me, and not with her?”

Jurina averted her gaze, her chest clenching in pain as her last encounter with Rena came rushing back with vivid clarity. Those last dreadful minutes that had signed the end of their short and fragile relationship. “She discovered the truth about me and…” Jurina steadied her voice with an effort. “And she rejected me.”

Jurina turned away without waiting for a reply, not wanting to be subjected to Nana’s pity. The room fell abruptly quiet, Jurina realizing in dismay that her emotions were getting the best of her when she felt a few silent tears sliding down her cheeks. All of a sudden, she heard the mattress slightly shifting behind her back, caught off guard when she felt Nana putting an arm around her waist and holding her close.

Jurina didn’t know where this unexpected affectionate gesture was coming from, yet she didn’t once try to break free from the comforting embrace.

Jurina jolted awake when she heard the doorbell ringing.

Forcing her eyes open, she laid still, wondering for a moment if she had heard correctly. The complete obscurity surrounding her taught her that it was still not morning, and her tiredness was a clear indication that she hadn’t slept that much. Tilting her head to the right, she extended her arm to grab the Smartphone laying on the bedside table, blinking when she noted that it was barely past 11PM.

It wasn’t incredibly late, yet she didn’t remember expecting anyone else tonight. Mayu was staying at her girlfriend’s place, and wasn’t supposed to be back until tomorrow afternoon. If she had made a last-minute change of plans or forgotten her keys, Mayu surely wouldn’t have failed to warn her. Just in case, Jurina checked her messages: she hadn’t received a single one from her best friend.

In fact, the sole company Jurina was expecting for the evening was currently lying naked in her bed. As Jurina stole a peek at Nana, and observed the latter turning in her sleep, she got concerned that the doorbell might have also woken her up. To her relief, the stripper’s eyelids remained tightly closed.

Jurina placed her phone back on the table and took a seat on the side of the bed, listening attentively to her surroundings. When not a sound could be heard anymore, she ended up thinking it might have been a mistake after all, until she perceived two distinct, soft knocks on the front door. No, she hadn’t imagined the whole thing: she effectively had a mysterious, unexpected visitor.

Jurina pushed herself to a standing position and slowly made her way to the closet to grab some clothes to put on. After opting for a simple pair of shorts and a tee-shirt, she hastily got dressed, and headed towards the bedroom door. As she was about to open it, she briefly paused to glance over her shoulder in the direction of Nana’s sleeping form, until stepping out and carefully pulling the bedroom door behind her.

Switching the living room’s light on, Jurina groaned in protest, taking a moment to adjust to the unpleasant, bright light entering her eyes still bleary with sleep. Mechanically combing her messy shoulder-length black hair with her fingers, she approached the front door, once more wondering who could possibly be visiting. As her fingers settled on the handle and she was about to open, a small, hesitant voice suddenly sounded on the opposite side.

“Jurina, are you here?”

Jurina’s eyes shot open, suddenly wide awake.

As her heart began thumping erratically, her body stiffened, her hand remaining frozen on the door handle. This feminine voice: she could recognize it anywhere. But it was impossible; Jurina immediately tried to reason. Her imagination was, for some weird reason, still playing tricks on her mind after what had happened with Nana.

Yes, there was no other explanation possible.

“Jurina, if you’re here... Please open the door. I need to talk to you.”

No, it’s not possible. Jurina shook her head in disbelief when she heard that voice again. It can’t be… It can’t be her.

Jurina came back to her senses and shakily turned the handle, curiosity getting the best of her. When the door finally opened and her eyes fell upon the girl waiting in front of her apartment, she was left utterly speechless. In front of her very own eyes, was standing a familiar twenty-six-year-old long, dark-haired girl. A stripper she had not seen in three, excruciatingly long weeks. “R-Rena?”

“I was afraid you wouldn’t open,” Rena sighed with relief.

Jurina swallowed, nervously holding her breath, and still having a difficult time believing the improbable sight in front of her. “What are you… How did you find me?”

“Your friend Mayu came by the club to talk to me,” Rena explained, her whole face progressively spreading into a smile. “And I’m so glad that she did.”

“Mayu did?!” Jurina said incredulously.

“I had no way of contacting you, and you haven’t visited the club in three weeks. I feared… I feared I would never see you again.”

Jurina’s lips parted on a shocked breath. So many conflicted thoughts were currently juggling in her head; she was forced to clutch the side of the door to steady her unbalanced steps. First, Rena’s unexpected apparition: God, she had truly missed those adorable small brown orbs. Then, the astonishing revelation that Mayu had gone to the club and talked to the stripper behind her back.

But most of all, the genuine, worried look Rena was now sending her.

If Jurina wasn’t fully awake right now, she would be convinced she was having the weirdest dream of her life.

“But the last time we saw each other, you…” Jurina’s voice grew thick with emotion, a suffocating sensation tightening her throat. “You rejected me. So I thought… I thought it was over between us.”

“Rejecting you? No, I would never…” Astonishment touched Rena’s face, until embarrassment darkened her features. “I’m so sorry if I hurt you that day. I didn’t know what to say, or how to react. You left me completely stunned. I think I needed time to fully grasp what it meant; what it meant for both of us. The following week-end, I was going to explain you all this and tell you that it didn’t matter and I accepted you for who you are, but… you never came back.”

At those very last words, a wave of hope fluttered through Jurina’s chest. How many times had she dreamed of hearing those words? How many years had she waited for someone to fully accept her? However, her joy didn’t last, her cautious side soon taking the upper hand. What if she was only understanding what she had always wanted to hear? What if she was misinterpreting Rena’s intentions?

Before jumping to conclusions, and take the foolish risk of having her hopes dashed, she absolutely needed clarification. Her stomach knotted with anticipation. “What did you just say?”

“I want to be with you,” Rena’s tone was gentle yet assured when she took a step closer, not afraid anymore of invading Jurina’s personal space. “So, can you… Can you please forgive me for the pain I caused you?”

Jurina unconsciously shivered, whether from the confirmation she had just obtained or the pleasant touch of Rena’s fingers tenderly brushing her cheek, she wasn’t entirely sure. With their faces so close, Jurina could feel Rena’s soft breathing delicately tickling her skin, the urge to press her lips against Rena’s smooth lips and remember their taste harder to resist as the seconds went by.

But fate dictated otherwise.

“Jurina, is everything alright?”

Jurina stiffened when she heard a familiar, sleepy voice calling her from inside the apartment. By the way Rena instantly looked over her shoulder and her beautiful smile vanished, Jurina knew she had not simply heard the voice, but also clearly recognized its owner. “W-Wait,” Jurina stammered, apprehension gripping her. “Let me explai-”

Jurina failed to react in time when Rena pushed the front door and moved past her, her eyes landing on the other girl who had appeared on the bedroom’s doorstep. “I refused to believe it, but it was true.” Rena’s dark eyes showed the tortured dullness of disbelief. “This evening at the club when I wasn’t here, you really slept with Nana, didn't you?”

“It’s not…” Jurina felt as if her whole world had suddenly crumbled around her feet. “It’s really not what you think.”

“And it was not just a one-time thing,” Rena continued, her features contorting with pain and sorrow as the evidence was standing right in front of her eyes, in all its naked glory. “Even after that, you kept sleeping with her. Please tell me this is not happening. Please tell me it’s not true.”

“Rena, it’s not what you think,” Nana suddenly intervened, stiffening when Rena glared back at her with burning, reproachful eyes.

Jurina tentatively tried to catch Rena’s arm and her attention with it, only to have the other girl abruptly yank her hand away and take a resolute step back towards the front door. Understanding that Rena was planning on leaving, Jurina’s eyes widened in alarm and took a hurried step forward, desperately searching her mind for something – anything - that could possibly calm Rena down and force her to listen.

But Jurina knew it was already far too late when Rena turned one last time in her direction and she witnessed a new, dark emotion flashing in Rena’s eyes, one she had never seen before directed at her: anger. Despair swept through her, understanding how deeply she had managed to hurt the older girl with her actions. When Rena span on her heels and left the apartment, Jurina - filled with endless guilt, pain and sorrow - didn't try to hold her back.

#wmatsui #matsui jurina #matsui rena #wmatsui fanfic #fujita nana #JuriNana #SKE48 #AKB48 #Acceptance #chapter 10

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existentialterror · 7 years

Text

A humble compendium of asexual dating advice

Happy asexual awareness week! I’ve been aware of (my) asexuality for 2.5 years now and am currently happily dating a couple very wonderful gentlemen. I’ve been asked for advice, and it’s also come up at ace meetups. While I can’t speak for everyone, I’m going to write what advice I would have liked to hear. Maybe you’ll find it useful too. For seeking out potential partners, I’m going to assume that you want to find a broad dating pool, and also that you want to avoid unnecessarily painful rejection. Some rejection is going to happen and in fact will always happen in any dating situation, of course. But while being ace is nothing to be ashamed of and isn’t something terrible you have to “warn” a potential partner about, there are a lot of very nice people who are just incompatible with ace partners, and our goal is A) for you to be happy, and B) for you and them to realize this incompatibility as early on as possible.

Online dating sites

I’d find the biggest dating platform in your region among the age demographic you’re looking at. As you might imagine, being in a big city or being open to long-distance dating helps. For a lot of places, that platform is OKcupid. Here’s my strategy:

Mark yourself as “asexual” in addition to other relevant romantic preferences.

Then, mention it again in the text of your profile. Asexuality is an umbrella term, so quickly describe what that implies for dating you. I like the phrasing “I identify as X, which for me means...” (This tip brought to you by several iterations of refining my okc profile, interspersed with new dates gradually getting less confused about what my actual preferences were. Trial and error: it works!)

After this, you can sort matches by asexuality. But there are also people who aren’t ace, but wouldn’t mind dating an ace person. I recommend the Chrome plugin “OkCupid (for the non-mainstream user).” Among other settings, it has an “asexual-friendly” setting that filters through a person’s question for ones relevant to ace dating, and shows you their answers on their profile page. Turn this one on and leave it on.

Click and message away!

Oh, yeah, especially if you’re a lady, you are probably going to get some sexual messages anyways, and you might get some messages asking you about the ace thing. All I can say is use that block/report button liberally, or just ignore them. (Screenshot the really weird ones to show your friends for a good horrified laugh. And then report the senders.) You can respond to anything if you want, but even if someone’s apparently completely nice and polite and is just curious about how the ace thing works, you still don’t have to respond to them - that’s not what you’re here for. There are also some ace-specific dating websites. I think the idea is neat, but haven’t tried any, and every ace person I’ve talked about them has said the same thing, but maybe you’ll be the first.

If you’re not sure how to describe yourself, I endorse this mindset about orientation labels being about communicating preferences. You might find it helpful too.

In person You can ask people out in person too! You don’t have to disclose being ace on the first date or anything, if sexual preferences haven’t come up. That said, I recommend getting it out there early on - see “The talk” later down.

If there’s a social or friend group you might want to date in, and the circumstances are right - the group is at least somewhat LGBTQ+ and/or sex positive, etc - maybe try to have it be known that you’re ace. It’s not a big deal, and it’s a reasonable thing to bring up if the conversation turns to sex, dating, etc. I like it because it’s an extra screening measure - if people approach you for dating, they’re more likely to have a sense of what’s in store. Even if they don’t know, a lot of dating starts with people telling their close friends that they’re crushing on so-and-so or “who is that, they’re so cute”. Even if the person gushing doesn’t know, their close friend might know and be able to tell them. Also, being visibly ace is pretty cool, and you might be able to help other people come to important realizations about themselves.

Polyamory

Obviously not for everyone, but if you think polyamory sounds interesting and there’s a local poly community (or you’re connected to ones via friends, internet, w/e), it might be worth checking it out. This can expand your dating pool - there are lots of people who dislike the idea of not having sex, but are more than willing to date people who don’t want to have sex, if they can get sex elsewhere. I also suspect poly communities also tend to be more aware of and cool with LGBTQ-ness and unusual preferences about sex, like not having it, but YMMV. If there are meetups around, or places where the poly people congregate, it might be worth going as a social adventure and seeing if the people there seem like the kind of people you can hang with. Poly dating is like normal dating, but a little weirder because we don’t have all the cultural scripts for things like “when do you tell a partner you’re dating someone else” or “what kind of small talk do I make with my metamour”. In general, communicate and be kind. I like the books More Than Two and The Ethical Slut. (I do worry there’s a minority of aces out there who really aren’t into to the idea of polyamory, but think it’s the only way they can date without ‘inflicting’ themselves on sexual people, and I want to be clear that if this describes you: hang on, don’t do polyamory, and look around some more. There are lovely people out there who will be thrilled to date just you, and it’s worth taking the time to find them.)

“The talk” At some point, you are probably going to want to have some kind of actual conversation in which you say you are asexual and what that implies for dating you. This might not be necessary if you’ve already talked about asexuality a bunch, but even if you think the other person knows, or it was on your dating profile so they really ought to know, have it anyways. They might actually not know, or they might have questions. It’ll also open up the floor for any concerns, and ensure that everyone is on the same page. I recommend doing this early on, when the stakes are low and both of you are still feeling things out. My guess is that it’s slightly better to have this talk face-to-face, but if distance bars or if you’re very shy, I’d say 100% do it via a text medium. Especially if you’re worried they’ll be weird about it. It’ll give you the space to choose your words carefully, and it’ll also mean you’re more likely to get a response that’s more thought out and truer to what the other person actually thinks, rather than their immediate first reaction. Fortunately, after this, you won’t have to talk about all this awkward boundary stuff again. Just kidding.

All the talks that come after

You have to keep talking about comfort and boundaries and what you want. This definitely isn’t ace specific. We’re messy people with bodies and lives. The edges of my comfort zone have changed over time, maybe from person to person as well, and they might for you too. Your partner will have them as well, even if they’re not ace. I have this sense that society has sort of a pattern of what a typical romantic or sexual encounter looks like - what kind of touching or contact happens, in what order, over what timeline - and that if that’s what you both want, you don’t have to talk about it much, but if you want something else, you have to clearly explain what that is. Maybe I’m wrong and nobody’s dating actually looks like the first case. Either way, once I’m getting physical with people I’m dating, even after we’ve had the “yes I’m ace” talk, they or I generally start another, more practical talk. I always feel like these talks are a little bit like pulling teeth, but even if you feel that way too, they’re good to have. There are some things that don’t naturally come up (or get remembered) long before you get physical, but that it makes sense to establish early on in the process:

Places on your body you don’t want touched

Activities or escalations you definitely don’t want to do right now

Kinds of sensation or touch you don’t like

Kinds of sensation or touch you do like

Ask your partner what their answers are too. They might be like “I’m up for anything” or they might not be. (Particularly if they’re ace too!) While I remember boundaries, I tend to forget the answer to “what kind of touch do you specifically enjoy” right after a cuddle session, and have to re-derive it from experimental evidence, at which point it sticks. I wish everyone had secret google docs about their gushy physical preferences for their dates to refer to. This is a tangent but I think it’s a great idea. Anyway, note is that you don’t have to precisely define all of your preferences right now in this conversation - you’re just giving them a road map for right now. You’ll keep having versions of it as things come up - “little to the left, ooh I’m ticklish there, not good”. It’s also reasonable to lay out some broad boundaries or preferences and then be like “okay, explore.” Expressing a positive response to your partner doing something nice (”that feels amazing”, etc) is highly recommended. Tips -

This article from Captain Awkward is not quite about this topic, but it’s relevant and sweet and powerful. You’re going to keep talking about preferences and boundaries and desires as long as you’re romancing, so you’ll figure it out.

If you’re up for it, giving each other back massages is good and classic practice for communicating your desires about touch.

Make sure you’re enjoying things and don’t have reservations

Finally, as things go, check in with yourself and/or the other person. Are you enjoying things? Are they enjoying things? Does anything feel off? To ask yourself: Do you feel safe, respected, and happy? If your boundaries are being disrespected or criticized, or you find yourself being talked into things you don’t enjoy, get out of there. If you’re just not enjoying yourself, or something feels strange or bad, still consider getting out of there - you don’t need an airtight reason - or at least talking to the other person. You deserve to be enthusiastic and happy about a relationship! If the other person rejects you and it’s because of the asexuality

I’m sorry, I’ve been there and it sucks. Maybe you're into someone and they just can’t do relationships without sex (or whatever - some fundamental preference incompatibility.) Maybe they can do ace relationships sometimes, but not right now, or not with you. Maybe that’s not even the real reason, but asexuality felt to them like an acceptable, no-one’s-fault reason to offer, so that’s what they told you. (Rejection is by no means an ace-specific phenomenon, but I think it feels worse when it’s pointed at something you knew was going to make dating hard, or part of your identity, or something you’re already a little unsure about. I don’t know if this is universal, but when a relationship is going south, I sometimes catch myself wondering if I should offer to start having sex with them. “If I do, they might like me more, or get back together with me, or spend more time with me, and it wouldn’t be that bad, and...”

And here’s the thing: every single time I think that, that’s my brain trying to solve the wrong problem. It probably wouldn’t work, plus I’d be miserable, and I should not do the thing. I’m not going to say this is 100% always true for you too, but if you start wondering the above, I invite you to STRONGLY CONSIDER that your brain is lying to you. Your boundaries are important and meaningful and you don’t need to compromise on them.) Ultimately, whether it was kind or not, they don’t want to date you, and there’s nothing you can do to change that. Sit tight, feel your feelings, take care of yourself. You didn’t do anything wrong by being asexual or by having a boundary. Once you feel like it, dust yourself off and get out there again.

Finally, of course, your worth and your happiness don’t depend on you dating anyone at all. But it is nice, and if you want to, you can. Good luck, fellow aces!

#feel free to share #asexual awareness week #ace awareness week #asexuality #light writes #polyamory #procedural knowledge

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akakpoptrash · 7 years

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Camp Days | Pt. 1 | Jeonghan

The camp store was one of the few places in Camp Half-Blood that was barely ever used. No one really ever needed anything, and if they did they usually just got it from the Hermes Cabin.

Jeonghan sat comfortably on the checkout counter, as he sat gossiping with Seungkwan. “It just doesn’t fit his head shape.”

“It doesn’t fit anyone’s head shape.” Seungkwan said, as he stood next to Jeonghan, but behind the cash register, “It’s just a bad fashion choice over all.”

Jeonghan looked up from his phone that he was messing around on, “Not completely true, Joshua can pull off a beanie.” He said thoughtfully, before going back to his phone.

“Still, I think he needs to burn it.” Seungkwan said, as he looked over towards the door to see a certain angry daughter of Ares [who Jeonghan definitely had a crush on] walk into the store.

She was mad. No. She was more than mad. She was pissed. She angrily stomped her way into the camp store.

“Just ignore him, they said. He can’t do anything too bad. He’ll get bored eventually.” She mumbled angrily under her breath.

Seungkwan looked over at Jeonghan who was still on his phone, as the long haired boy hadn’t bothered to look up from his phone at all. “Who are you even texting?”

“Mingyu.” Was Jeonghan’s short reply, as he slid his headphones out of his pocket, plugged them into his phone, and placed one of the buds into his ear

Seungkwan laughed quietly to himself as he realized that Jeonghan wasn’t going to look up from his phone -and notice that his crush was in the same room- any time soon. ‘This is too good’ Seungkwan thought to himself with a grin.

“Bored my ass. Tell that to freshly dyed puke green camp shirts.” She groaned to herself as she looked around the store quickly, trying to find the clothing area.

Her eyes quickly landed on the slew of bright orange camp shirts on the far wall, and she quickly headed over there. The display wall was floor to ceiling shelves with each cabin having a row to itself. Scanning over the shirts quickly searched for the shirts with the Ares symbol on them, and as if her day wasn’t bad enough, the size of shirts that she needed were placed on the very top, above all the others.

If she had been any other Ares kid, this would of been fine, as most of them are way taller than normal, but she wasn’t any other Ares kid. No, she had to be the short Ares kid, didn’t she?

“Can I get some help over here?” She called out, as she saw the two boys up at the counter.

Seungkwan looks over at her, “Give us a second.” He calls back to her, as he sees her predicament. His mind coming up with a plan at a lightning fast speed that would put S.Coups to shame.

“So what do you think of that one girl over at the Demeter Cabin, the one who started this year?” He asked curiously, having talked to the girl in question for the first time earlier in the day.

“Don’t even think about it?” Jeonghan said, not bothering to look up from his phone.

“Come on she is cute right?” He didn’t really have an interest in her but he was trying to pry some good info out of Jeonghan, as well as keep him from knowing about y/n being here till the right moment.

Jeonghan rolled his eyes, “Yeah but like I think 90% of the camp is cute.” he said offhandedly. The fact the he was a son of Aphrodite made him attracted to everyone, he saw no gender when it came to love, and he wasn’t defined by any sexual orientation.

“For real though, don’t let Woozi hear you talking about her.”

‘Finally, something.’ Seungkwan let a small grin slide onto his face, glad to be getting some juicy details. “Does he have a thing for her?”

“I know nothing. You heard nothing.” Jeonghan caught the younger boy’s eyes, and he gave him a hard glare. “Okay?”

“Nothing at all.” Seungkwan answered, hiding his grin. Woozi gossip was hard to come by, he wouldn’t let Jeonghan take this away from him.

Satisfied with the younger boy’s response, Jeonghan went back to texting Mingyu.

“Fucking Hades.” She let slip, as she looked around. Of course there was no step stool, or anything of that nature to help her get some shirts down.

‘I only need like a foot and a half,’ she thought as she tried to think of a solution. ‘It’s not that high up. I could climb it, like I’ve climbed higher. This is nothing compared to The Lava Wall’

Stepping up on the bottom shelf, she starts to climb. It’s harder than she thought, the shelving is slick and she keeps having to move the shirts back with her foot while trying to keep her balance.

The first time she loses her footing she has only made it to the second shelf from the bottom, before she stepped on a shirt and slid right off the shelf. The next time she made it one shelf higher than before, her hand accidentally grabbing a shirt instead of the shelf.

“Hello, I need some help over here.” She called out as she stared angrily at the shirts that evaded her. ‘Didn’t they say it would only be a second? Not five fucking minutes.’

Seungkwan looks over at Jeonghan who is locked in his own world, totally distracted by his music and Mingyu, before he calls out, “Be right there.” with a smirk on his face.

Jeonghan feels Seungkwan poking him in the side a solid five times before he bothers to pull out a earbud and pay him any attention.

“What is it?” Jeonghan says with a groan.

Seungkwan let’s out a giggle, “I’m going to go take my break. Cool?”

“Yeah, sure,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes and pops his earbud back in. Turning up the volume and drowning out any reply Seungkwan may make.

Seungkwan heads to the back, of course he stays within hearing distance because he knows the angry Ares cabin leader was about to snap, and he didn’t want to miss it, but he knows to stay out of sight.

She swears on the River Styx if no one comes in the next three seconds she will actually fight someone.

Weaving her way through the aisles, she heads back to the counter, where she saw the two boys at when she first entered the store. ‘Your kidding me!’ she thinks as she crosses her arms and looks at the vision in front of her.

The worker who she thinks was the one replying to her is sitting on the counter, glued to his phone, and definitely not on his way to help her.

Jeonghan wasn’t the one putting off helping her, but she doesn’t know that. Right now she is seeing red. Her anger at Jun, at being too short to reach the shelves, and at being straight up ignored have her short fuse at its limit.

She storms up to Jeonghan, standing square in front of him, and she rips his headphone right out of his ears. Both startling him and getting his attention.

“When I call for help, I am actually needing help. Listen it’s your job, right? So, why do I have to come up here to get some help after I’ve yelled for it? Honestly, I wasn’t yelling just to hear my own voice.”

She was upset, her day has been rough. Now though she is pissed. Ares would be proud of the fire she is about to let loose on this poor boy.

‘Oh great River Styx. When the fuck did she get here?’ Jeonghan thinks to himself.

He looks at her standing in front of him with his headphones in her hand and drops his phone onto his lap in shock. ‘Is she actually talking to me? What do I say?’ He thinks to himself as he runs a hand through his hair anxiously, unconsciously looking ten times more attractive when he did.

“Are you even paying attention, I called for help like two or three times, yet you are just up here sitting on that hot ass of yours playing on your phone. Are you for real?”

Jeonghan is so caught up that the beautiful girl that he has had a crush on for ages is standing in front of him that he isn’t processing the words she is saying.

“Were you even planning on helping me? What kind of help even are you? Just playing on your damn phone.” She is on a roll at this point, words rolling off her tongue as her cheeks flush red to match her anger.

‘Hades, she is so beautiful,’ He thought to himself, and he stared at her, loving the way her eyes lit up brighter than Hestia’s hearth when she was angry. It was like she stole his breath, or maybe she stole his heart.

He didn’t understand what it was about her that had him feeling this way. He was a son of Aphrodite, it should be him taking breaths and stealing hearts, not her.

He was a romantic, or maybe he was just a creep, but Jeonghan had never actually talked to her. He usually just watched, admired her from afar. He should be a little upset. Like the first time his crush is talking to him, she is yelling at him, but all he can think is, “You are so beautiful when you are angry.”

“And let me tell y-” She stops. Did she hear right? She thinks that she had to offer heard wrong. She isn’t beautiful, she is an Ares kid. Ares kids aren’t beautiful, they are ugly, crass, and rude not to mention the terrible case of resting bitch face that they have.

‘Hades did I just say that out loud?’ He prays to the gods that he didn’t, but she stopped mid sentence and is just staring at him in shock. That’s it, his life is over. He is done. He prays to be dragged to the depths of hell.

Jeonghan dropped his head down, trying to hide his embarrassment, and the blush that is blooming on his cheeks. The store is quiet. She isn’t saying anything. Jeonghan thinks he knows what is coming. The ultimate rejection, why would she accept his feeling he is just a weak flower boy, and she is the Ares cabin leader.

“Re-really.” She stutters out, blushing, her voice has gone squeaky.

At the sound of her reply, Jeonghan completely understands with his knowledge of his mother’s domain. He gives her a soft smile as he loses all his insecurity.

“Didn’t you say you needed help with something?” He said as he hopped the counter.

All she could do was nod her head as she tried to come to terms with the fact that the most attractive person in camp not only complemented her, but also was being so soft in general towards her. As most people were never soft with Ares’ kids.

Jeonghan looked as his crush became a shy stuttering mess in front of him after one compliment. He grabbed her hand and decided that after seeing her reaction from one compliment he never wanted to stop complimenting her.

Seungkwan stood in the doorway of the break room watching everything go down with a smile on his face, “I’m better than Cupid himself.”

#seventeen #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #percy jackson au #son of aphrodite #jeonghan au #jeonghan fanfic #jeonghan fluff #seungkwan #kpop fanfic #kpop au #kpop scenarios #jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #kpop fanfiction

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theconservativebrief · 6 years

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Bad boys are over. Man-children are over. Lovable losers are over. The women of America are too busy being re-traumatized by the discourse of #MeToo over and over again to want to fantasize about doing the enormous emotional labor required to heal troubled men of their wounds and shape them from tortured frogs into perfect Prince Charmings.

No, instead, American pop culture has officially entered into the era of the wholesome bae. Which is to say that this is Noah Centineo’s universe now, and the rest of us are just living in it.

More accurately, it is Peter Kavinsky’s universe. Peter Kavinsky is the character played by Noah Centineo in Netflix’s breakout high school romantic comedy To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before. He is the crush object of the summer, and like all great fictional crush objects before him — Jake Ryan, Jordan Catalano — he is known universally by his full name.

In the brief time since To All the Boys premiered, Peter Kavinsky has become iconic for his wholesomeness: his willingness to drive all the way across town to get Lara Jean her yogurt smoothies, his decision to drink kombucha at a house party because he’s driving and also it’s supposed to be good for your digestion, his instinct to keep the popcorn bowl from getting overturned in a middle of an impromptu pillow fight.

Peter Kavinsky is beloved because, unlike his predecessors, he is not actively a bad person, and that is still new and exciting in the world of teen movies. He is not performatively woke or intellectual or tortured or given to especially grand gestures, and that is what makes him appealing: He is most celebrated for reliably doing small things, for showing up, for exuding a sense of honest wholesomeness.

But Peter Kavinsky is fictional, and as such, his ability to spin out endless new content for the internet to sigh over is limited. Noah Centineo, on the other hand, is a real person who can fuel endless new GIFs, one who is taking full advantage of his rise to fame to energetically pursue the mantle of the internet’s most wholesome boyfriend. His media strategy since the premiere of To All the Boys seems to be pointed with military precision toward the archetype of the moment.

Like his most famous character, Centineo is not trying to be especially woke, or especially intellectual, or especially artistic, or especially cool. He’s going for a much more basic appeal, like a Tiger Beat cover star who is not entirely asexual: the emotionally healthy soft jock. The wholesome boyfriend. He is a hot guy who is also reliably nice. That is his whole thing, and it is damn effective.

When To All the Boys came out, Centineo picked up a million Instagram followers overnight. Within a month, he’d gone from 800,000 followers pre-To All the Boys to 9.5 million. Now he’s at 12.8 million. His fan base is so fervent that he had to devote part of an interview with Jimmy Kimmel to politely asking them to stop following him around in real life. “I love your love!” he said. “Just don’t follow me.”

Centineo’s rise to fame is a kind of case study in the appeal of the wholesome internet boyfriend, and why this archetype has taken on a particular urgency here in the draining final months of 2018. Here’s how you become the central crush object of the internet in record time, and where you go next.

The first stage in Centineo’s conquest of the internet’s collective heart was to create a certain slippage between himself and Peter Kavinsky. To All the Boys fans were all reliably swooning over the same three Peter Kavinsky moments — the time he has his hand in Lara Jean’s back pocket and then kind of twirls her around, the whole thing with the popcorn and the pillow fight, the time he bashfully splashes her from the hot tub — and within days of the movie’s release, director Susan Johnson had said in interviews that all three moments were Centineo’s idea. Peter Kavinsky might be fictional, the publicity narrative suggested, but the man behind his best moments was actually alive.

The To All the Boys press team also began to heavily imply that maybe Centineo and his co-star Lana Condor were in love in real life, too. (Lana Condor has been with her boyfriend for years and said so, but that didn’t stop a fun press narrative from building.) The adorable picture of Peter and Lara Jean cuddling that appeared in the movie was actually a behind-the-scenes picture of Centineo and Condor napping between takes, it was revealed. Centineo and Condor referred to each other as “the love of my life” all over social media.

“I love Noah. I think he’s the greatest guy in the world. I mean who wouldn’t?” said the prescient Condor to Elle. “He’s the internet’s boyfriend.”

BuzzFeed’s AM to DM morning show got to the heart of the question: Are people thirsting over Peter Kavinsky or Noah Centineo? “As a genius once said, ‘Why not both?’” responded internet thirst expert Nichole Perkins.

While the line between the Peter Kavinsky character and the Noah Centineo public persona became steadily blurrier, Centineo himself was busy on a press tour, giving interview answers that could have been mathematically calibrated in a lab as the perfect good-girl bait.

Asked to describe his perfect date, Centineo volunteered a story about a time he swapped books with a girl and just spent three hours reading with her.

how is this kid real??? like???? i mean???? i would die???????? someone take me on this date like today?????????????????? pic.twitter.com/jii46EQMPs

— Preeti Chhibber @ NYCC oh god too soon tho (@runwithskizzers) August 29, 2018

Asked how he got so good at flirting by Allison P. Davis for the Cut, he delivered this impromptu monologue on the nature of love:

“Am I flirting?” he laughs and leans and looks down at the floor. “I don’t know — I’m fucking so romantic. Like, such a romantic — it’s not even funny. I can’t help it. I swear to God, like, every day, the majority of my day is sentimental. You know, I’m thinking about past relationships I’ve been in, how I miss them so much or what I would do different, or why I wanna be with them again, or just moments I’d like to go back to or I know why I shouldn’t go back, and then you know, it’s just constantly love, love, love.”

Specific or even all that interesting? Not really. Kind of basic? Extremely. But that, after all, is part of the point: the wholesome boyfriend doesn’t have to rise above basicness. He just has to love love, without cynicism or irony. He’s the hot guy who is also consistently nice, who is aware of his emotions and unashamed of them.

Centineo kept hitting his wholesome boyfriend marks with the relentless force of someone who sees his route to superstardom and will not be stopped. He showed up shirtless to an interview and did it without coming off as a complete douche. He did a puppy interview for BuzzFeed, and a perfect boyfriend video for Elle that also had some puppies because look, why not. He became so relentlessly wholesome that not even a leaked nudes scandal could hold him back.

Currently, Centineo’s gone about as far as Peter Kavinsky can take him, and as with any star on the brink of overexposure, he’s facing a certain amount of backlash. The staff of Jezebel has formally dissolved their relationship with internet boyfriend Centineo — “Whatever we (the staff of Jezebel as a whole) had with Centineo (who has never met any of us, to the best of my knowledge), it’s OVER” — citing in part the extreme basicness of his social media presence (the boy loves an inspirational quote). In a recent New York Times profile, his single-minded push for attention was just on the verge of coming off as desperate rather than endearing.

At Lainey Gossip, Kathleen Newman-Bremang is reading the warning signs. “Internet Boyfriend is a designation you get on the come-up,” she writes, citing the previous examples of Michael B. Jordan and Tom Hiddleston. “You either leverage it in your favour (MBJ) or get so drunk off its power you try too hard and become a caricature of yourself (Hiddleston). Where will Noah Centineo fall?” Being the internet’s flavor of the month is not exactly a recipe for career longevity.

But for the moment, Centineo’s month is not over. He remains on top of the world, at the pinnacle of internet boyfriend-ness. The Cut has proclaimed him “the best thirst architect the internet’s ever seen,” lauding his “Stanislavski dedication” to playing “a simple, suburban-mall kind of crush.” GQ looked into what all the fuss was about and came to a simple conclusion: “America Is Horny for Wholesome.”

One of the side effects of the increasingly public gender struggles of the past few years is that they’ve made a lot of previously attractive romantic archetypes seem a lot less appealing than they used to.

How do you sigh over the Johnny Depp-like wounded bad boy when actual Johnny Depp maybe beat his wife? How do you swoon for the stalwart Mel Gibson-like action hero when actual Mel Gibson is on tape telling the mother of his child she deserves to be raped? How do you root for the sweet shy geek to get the hot girl to notice him when shy geeks are joining the incels because they can’t get hot girls to notice them?

In a time when the world is getting ever scarier, and a little romantic escapism would be a welcome refuge from thinking about whether we’re about to put a second man accused of sexual misconduct on the Supreme Court or we’re going to wake up to find that we are in a nuclear war with North Korea, it’s getting harder and harder to find a romantic fantasy that still feels safe.

That’s part of why To All the Boys, with its relentless tenderness and sincerity, became the kind of movie that people watch over and over again on a loop. (“I never rewatch movies,” people keep telling me, “but I watched it twice.”) Its entire ethos is that of nice, kind people working hard to be nice and kind to each other, and that atmosphere has immense currency in the Trump era; you want to live in it. And that’s the Peter Kavinsky fantasy: a boy who will never, ever do anything cruel and will always tell you that you look really pretty today. The hot guy who is reliably nice.

And that’s the fantasy around which Noah Centineo has relentlessly curated his public image. He has made an exact science out of being the internet’s most wholesome boyfriend, at a time when all people want is someone wholesome. So even if he isn’t able to parlay his current viral fame into career longevity, he’s still managed to be exactly what this moment in time needs.

Original Source -> Noah Centineo and the rise of the wholesome internet boyfriend, explained

via The Conservative Brief

#IFTTT #The Conservative Brief

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