#Damn I had to break the video in two parts because Tumblr said “too big!”

[espressoristretto-patronum]

Part 1 here

But where my heart really melts is here.

Poppy is immediately concerned about poachers finding the golden snidgets but Dorran reassure her.

At the words "You did what the poachers would never have. Remember that" Tori looks at Poppy because she knows Poppy needed to hear those words.

And Tori didn't speak a word in the entire scene as if she doesn't want to break the magic.

[vyeoh]

this is your chance: wax poetic about an Empires or DSMP character of your choice to a fan who is new to both. Explain why I should love them. I need guidance in this new and meme-populated land.

okok this is a lot of pressure haha. Spoilers for EmpiresSMP and DreamSMP below, obviously. I wrote a lot so prepare yourself, anon

I watch a lot of empires POVs but the ones I most anticipate every week are Scott and Sausage.

c!Scott (I'll call him Smajor for the sake of simplicity) starts off the series chilling, not really getting involved with the rest of the server, and staying aggressively neutral. After all, he's an elf. He has lived far longer than most of the other rulers already, and will most likely outlive them for many years. So, the best thing is to stick to his mountains and not get invested in the dealings of mortal affairs, maybe sometimes causing problems on purpose and dipping because what's life without a little spice right.

But then, this demon comes to the server, Xornoth. He's going around causing havoc and wants to send the world into an eternal winter, but he doesn't bother the kingdom of Rivendell much so Smajor stays tentatively cautious but ultimately unbothered. But then, the puzzle pieces start falling together. The first thing that the audience noticed was was Xornoth sounded like Smajor, but we mostly thought that this was just due to cc!Scott voicing both of them and there was nothing more to it. However, then, the people the demon starts possessing start chanting in elvish. The demon hates mortals, and the elves are conveniently one of the two confirmed not fully mortal races in Empires.

This culminates when Smajor stumbles across a cave that contains the backstory of the patron god of Rivendell, Aeor. Basically, there's two opposing forces, Aeor and Exor, and both have a champion. In a previous life, those champions were two brothers, where Aeor eventually prevailed and banished Exor. In this life though, the champions are - you guessed it - Smajor, and the demon Xornoth.

So now Smajor is like. Well fuck. It's my literal god-given destiny to be responsible for defeating this demon who is technically my brother, and if I fail the server gets plunged into an eternal winter. And I have no fucking clue what is happening because I've just been here on this mountain actively trying to stay out of the issues outside my kingdom. We watch him panic and teeter on the verge of spiraling for an entire episode, and when the followers of Xornoth go to the End to kill the dragon, releasing Xornoth's full powers, he fails to stop him. Smajor is a character who was used to being the smart one, the prepared one, the one who has the least deaths on the server. But he's also a character who runs away from his problems and ignores them. Before and during the dragon fight, we hear the desperation in his voice, as he's thrown into a situation he is wholly unprepared for, and it's bigger than him going to the Cod Empire to kill their king, or assisting in other people's plans to kill the codfather. He can't run from this. cc!Scott plays this scene so well as well, as I've said before, one of the best parts of Scott's acting is how he's never super dramatic, but he's so effective in the little things like inflection to make you feel, viscerally, the panic and dread.

So after the dragon fight, Smajor realizes, I can't do this on my own. I've tried and failed. So he gets allies. We watch him, someone who has so strongly been an isolationist, learn the benefits of allies and watch him learn to trust others and watch him learn how to get that trust in return.

My favorite thing about Smajor's characterization is that he's an incompetent protagonist, but not in the way of the "plucky young adventurer". He's capable skill-wise, and fairly jaded and very pessimistic. However, his issue is that up until recently, he did not care about the rest of the server at all, and by the time he learned to, it was way too late.

Also, in 3rd Life, cc!Scott and cc!Jimmy were canonically married and they reference it sometimes in Empires. Like, Scott goes over to the Cod Empire every so often both in and out of character to kill and/or flirt with Jimmy, the ruler of the Cod Empire, which may develop as a secondary plot into the future who knows. So ty Scott for giving the gays what they want o7

Now onto Sausage: his is a story of Icarus, his hubris and ambition being his downfall. He's one of the two followers of Xornoth, who promised him endless power in exchange for his servitude. He started the series being eccentric, but not outright unhinged, but slowly gets more and more extreme as the series progresses, as he gets brought more and more to Xornoth's side.

One of the best parts of Sausage's character, in my opinion, is how his gradual corruption affects the people around him. Initially, he got into a conflict with the Cod Empire and was allied with two other people in the Witherrose alliance. They were allies, but also close friends. The fandom liked to joke that the three had sibling energy, and I'm pretty sure the ccs played to that even more lol.

It was painful to watch the other two members, Gem and fWhip, watch Sausage get corrupted right in front of them, and see them desperately clinging on to this old idea of Sausage in their head because if they faced the truth, it would mean that their friend was gone. Eventually, they do finally cut him out of the alliance, leading him to fully commit to the side of the demon. Sausage felt very clearly betrayed by this, and declared the remaining two Witherrose alliance members to be enemies.

He gets more and more possessed, and we even see the other Empires, his enemies even, slowly realize that something is very wrong with the ruler of Mythland. He starts doing more and more evil things, like killing people more, making sacrifices to the demon, and eventually helping to kill the dragon to free Xornoth. So things are good for Sausage, for a bit. He won, and is more powerful than ever. Then he finds out: he's going to die. Xornoth's possession is slowly killing his soul, and eventually, his body going to be fully taken over and he himself is going to be trapped in the spirit realm. So how do you react to this? Over the next few episodes, we watch Sausage struggle between "the demon is literally killing me" and "the demon has given me so much, and I love it", all while Xornoth takes over more and more of him. We hear him exclaim that "don't worry!! I'm still about 15% there!" while trying to downplay every time Xornoth completely takes over his body. We watch him willingly oppose anyone who is trying to end the thing that is killing him.

My favorite thing about Sausage is that he is undoubtedly evil and proud of it, but he's also undoubtedly human. If you like to watch evil characters go absolutely feral, he's the guy for you. He makes the deal with Xornoth in the beginning, knowing and fully embracing the evilness of the demon, but at the same time he knows what he's doing is detrimental to both himself and everyone around him, but he's gotten in way too deep at this point, and to be fair the demon has held up its end fo the bargain, right?

Also, I would be damned if I don't talk about cc!Sausage's editing. Every one of his videos is like a movie. The way he does camera angles and uses music is so skillful- every lore scene feels like something out of a high fantasy action saga (think: LotR). Every big lore event I always wait in anticipation for Sausage's ep because his editing truly takes lore to another level.

I'm just generally very excited to see where this series goes. Empires is such a good mix of talented builders and good lore. Part of the reason why the series is so immersive for me, beyond any other lore smp, is that they have the settings to back it up. There is a certain charm to the DreamSMP's objectively terrible builds (with a few exceptions) but in Empires, the settings help sell the plot so much.

Another part of why I love EmpiresSMP is how much the ccs are involved with the fan community. I'm sure you've seen the memes about Scott being on tumblr, and Sausage regularly goes through the EmpiresSMP fanart tag on Twitter and likes art, even ones not related to Mythland. Most of the ccs, in fact, have brought up tumblr content on stream at some point or another. Like, several ccs have said that they read tumblr lore theories and hcs and stuff and sometimes take inspiration from them. Fun fact: Rivendell's church was inspired by my pinned drawing; confirmed by Scott Smajor himself. It's just such a good cycle of ccs and fans being excited about each other.

As for DreamSMP, I'm gonna be honest here, the only person I really am invested in in Technoblade. I started watching when he joined the server, and he's the only person whose lore I keep up to date with.

Techno's fun to watch because he's like the Deadpool of DreamSMP. Virtually unkillable, very skilled and scary, but consistently cracks jokes and breaks the 4th wall during plot. His POV is just fun. Like, he does wild plans and gives speeches and some of the stuff that happens to him should be called deus ex machine if it wasn't for the fact that Technoblade is the one who's doing it, and all the stuff is grounded in the fact that cc!Techno is just that good at the game.

However, the fact that he rarely takes anything seriously makes the few times Techno is 100% serious so much more impactful. His whole character has a basis in being perceived as inhuman and being treated as such, and therefore in return trying to hide his humanity. So, when he shows that humanity, whether that's fear, anger, or genuine love for his friends, it really makes you go "oh shit."

Techno's often said not to have character development, but I'd argue that while he remains steadfast in his moral code, he develops leaps and bounds as a person. Like, at the beginning, he's brought onto the server to help Wilbur and Tommy overthrow a government; them knowing he's 1) an anarchist and 2) very very powerful. His character was more of a plot device at that point and was treated as such in the canon. Wilbur and Tommy straight-up lie to him about their plans to establish another government after they overthrow the current one, while he was led on to believe that they were abolishing all governments in the area. But he isn't a plot device. He's a person, as much as he only shows the terrifying, blood god side of himself.

After the establishment of New Lmanburg (the new government its a long story), his friend Phil joins. And for the first time, we see him be fully human with someone and we see someone treat him like a human. Like, we saw glimpses before, with Wilbur and Tommy in Pogtopia, but Phil is the first person we noticeably see he trusts 100%. Then Doomsday happens, and Techno essentially retires to the tundra. During this time, we see Techno learn to be more human, first with Ranboo, then Niki when he establishes the Syndicate. In fact, the two of them, along with Phil, canonically throw him a birthday party, which is a far cry from his treatment in Pogtopia.

Techno's development is one of a god learning to be human, and I just think he <3

[icarushasfallenfromthestars]

That dream angst fuckin wrecked my heart..any chance for a part 2 with comfort(im not the og requester so if not thats fine its just OUGH my heart)

So both you and the og requester asked for a part 2, which means I'm definitely gonna do it! (I'd do it even if the og didn't ask so lmao) I HAD TO REWRITE THIS 12 GOD DAMN TIMES BECAUSE TUMBLR IS SHIT AT SAVING THINGS

I'm honestly so glad people enjoy my writings! Feel free to request more! My inbox is open and I have no requests lined up yet!

Once again. This is a completely fictitious story and version of Clay.

TW: Panic attacks, self deprecating thoughts,

Part one

Found (Outside The Screen) (Dream x GN! Reader) Part 2

"(Y/n)!"

His voice echoed through the house as you scrambled around corners to escape the possible wrath of your boyfriend. Or maybe even soon to be ex boyfriend.

Despite living in this house with him for a little over two years, it was beginning to feel like a maze. You couldn't tell which way was left and which way was right, your head spinning with panic as you gasped for breath.

He's gonna find you...

The house wasn't even that big, and quite an open concept, so you had no idea why you were finding it so confusing. All you knew at the moment was...

Get out.

Once your eyes landed on the door that lead out, you made a beeline towards it and flung it open. Maybe you should've known better than to attempt to run from the manhunt god...

The footsteps pounding against the floor not too far behind you startled you enough to jump outside and slam the door behind you in hopes of giving yourself enough time to run farther.

There were plenty of things failing to register in your mind as you ran down the empty sidewalks. Such as the poor choice (or lack) of shoes you were wearing, or even the heavy night rain pelting down on your shaking body.

Your lungs were burning.. But your brain had thrown itself so far into fight or flight mode that you had no care for anything around you, hardly blinking twice as the signs of unfamiliar street names flew past you.

Eventually, when you physically couldn't breathe any longer, you sat on a bench and took awhile to think. The consistent rain pelting down on your head was actually a decent grounder to help you snap yourself out of it... But that only caused more confusion and another wave of panic to wash over you.

Where... were you?

Doesn't matter. Don't go back.

Oh God... He hates you..

Why wouldn't he..?

He was too embarrassed to show you to his chat!

What did you do that was so embarrassing?

God.. What was so wrong with you that he stayed in his streaming room for days on end!?

Pulling your knees up to your chest, you choked back a few sobs, trying your best to keep what was left of your composure. Very quickly, however, you gave up on trying to hold yourself together and broke down, hiding your face in your knees.

Time seemed to pass by way too quickly but also way too slowly at the same time.. Like time itself was giving you the one finger salute. When you finally stopped crying, you leaned back against the back of the bench and gave a shaky sigh before you decided to attempt to think rationally again.

You had no clue where you were. Nothing looked familiar. What time is it? No clue, you don't have your... Your phone!

You quickly scrambled to your pocket to pull out the cellular device, and stared at the black screen for a few seconds. Anxiety was the reason for your hesitance as you stared into your reflection, frowning slightly. Without thinking twice, you pressed the button and the screen lit up with various arrays of colours.

78 Missed calls from Clay💚

2 Missed calls from George👓🇬🇧

7 Missed calls from Sapnap🔥

Was... He so mad that his friends were trying to yell at you too? You tilted your head slightly and scrolled through the other notifications on your lockscreen.

Twitter seemed to be losing their minds over your boyfriend's stream and wondering who the stranger was. Seeing the headlines flooded you with immeasurable guilt and you almost put your phone down again, if your phone didn't start buzzing.

You glanced down at the screen and say Clay was making call number 79... Man, he was persistent.. and he would probably continue to call until you answered...

Your finger hovered over the decline button, before slowly moving over and landing on the green one instead. "...Hello...?"

"(Y/n)...?" Had... He been crying...? "Oh my god! You're alive!" He gasped out with glee before giving a few sobs of... relief...?

"...You... Aren't... Mad?" You whispered very softly and hesitantly, your voice scratchy and sore from crying.

He sighed and there was a little bit of shuffling as well as a few male voices in the background. "No. Not in the slightest... Where are you? I want to apologize in person.. And when it doesn't sound like you're in a hurricane.."

You lifted your head up to look at the rain that was continuing to pelt down on you before looking around. "..I'm not sure.." You heard your partner echo your statement in question form as you looked for street signs through the rain. Glancing back at your phone, you saw the screen light up again, this time it was a warning label.

Your battery was almost dead...

"C-Clay.. My phone is going to die.." You murmured softly, your heart filling with dread as you turned down your brightness and closed any unnecessary apps.

There was a little bit of clattering and shuffling on the line as Clay hurriedly walked from the windows to the door, trying to see you from the home. "G-give me landmarks! Hurry!" He practically begged as you shot up from your bench, ignoring the burning soreness in your legs.

Spinning around quickly, you began listing off a few company buildings you saw, trying to shout over the rain and a few cars driving by. "Yeah-yeah! There's also that little sushi place beside the restaurant too.."

You heard the furious typing of his computer before another almost sob of relief. "You're on Rosewood Avenue... How the hell did you run that far? Okay, you're going to walk in the opposite direction of the sushi place until you reach a road called Miller Road, got that?" He waited for a verbal noise of agreement before continuing, "Once you get there, turn left and keep walking straight until you get to a steakhouse. I'll meet you half way, if you don't see me there, don't move unless you have to. Got it?" He asked firmly, with a small hint of desperation in his tone.

You rubbed your face as you mentally repeated the directions to yourself. "Yeah.. Yeah.. I got it." You began to walk along the sidewalks, your shoulders beginning to tremble from the water induced shivers trailing up and down your spine.

"..(Y/n)?"

"Yeah?"

"I lov-"

Your phone died..

Pulling the device away from your head, you pressed the buttons a few times before groaning and shoving it into your pockets as you began to walk.

Your mind was blurry but also hyper aware along the walk to the road where Clay told you to go. 'What was he going to say? If... He doesn't hate me... was he going to say- No.. no. He hadn't said that line in over a few months now.. No reason why he would say it now..' You mentally scolded yourself.

The rain didn't seem to be too keen on letting up as you walked through large rippling puddles. Your clothes were soaked, your hair completely drenched and you were pretty sure you were gonna need to buy a new phone with how much your current one was getting waterlogged..

You rose your arm to shield your face from the onslaught of water that a car had caused by driving through a large puddle before running your hand down your face.

Part of you was still a bit.. angry... at Clay... He had ignored you for so long and wanted nothing to do with you.. Then suddenly you spill hot coffee on yourself and then boom, you have the man more focused than when he has a good speed run seed. What about all those times you were begging him to come to bed, or at least eat dinner at the table with you? Did you only matter when you were in pain?

Biting your lip, you shook off the thought as you looked up again to see the steakhouse that you were directed to go to, the signs glowingly and people shuffling in and out through the doors...

Then there was another man, standing under a large black umbrella wearing a damp lime green hoodie...

Only you'd recognize that face anywhere where others wouldn't.. Standing in the street lights perfectly was your boyfriend, Clay.

Your heart trembled but also melted slightly upon seeing that he wasn't paying attention to his screen anymore. You. He was focused on finding you...

As you began to walk closer, you saw him lift his head and stare at you for a few seconds before dropping the umbrella and lunge forward to wrap you in a loving embrace. "I'm sorry.." Was the first thing he whispered, his voice almost as hoarse as yours. "I know.. that a simple apology will never excuse what I put you through... You cared for me, and even after a stupidly ignored you... You still didn't leave, or get angry. I don't deserve you, I know that, and you have every right to be upset, angry or whatever you're feeling right now.. Please, it doesn't matter how long it takes... Just let me make it up to you and let me prove myself worthy of your love again.."

Your lips parted in surprise as you stared at him, the streetlight poorly capturing his normal beauty, but still doing it well enough that you felt your heart soar. "Clay..." Your eyes traced his features, his puffy and reddened eyes and his cheeks stained with tear tracks, "You have a lot to work and make up for... I'm not going to forgive you immediately, but I'm not going to leave you.. We can work things out.. Together, okay?"

He eagerly nodded and gently held your face in his hands before pressing a light kiss to your forehead. "I'll break away from video editing and streaming for a while.. So I can focus on repairing things with you.."

You buried your face into the male's sweater, that was beginning to become soaked as well from the rain and you, and closed your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him.

"(Y/n)?"

"Mm..?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Clay."

[thefloatingstone]

Last time I made a playlist of recommended youtube channels to enjoy while in lockdown or self quarantine, I focused on individual videos while also recommending other videos from the same channel.

I thought I’d make another list only this time I’m going to be recommending playlists or series on youtuber instead of just individual videos.

This is gonna go exactly like last time, so check out any of these that might seem interesting to you, and hopefully I can give you something to look into if you want something to watch but don’t feel like watching a Netflix or Crunchyroll show.

Last time I tried to put this under a read more break but it didn’t work and I ended up posting this long-ass post on everyone’s dash. Well I decided to do so again here. hit J to skip to the bottom of the post if you don’t feel like reading this whole thing. If you’re on tumblr mobile; why?

In no particular order;

Cinemassacre movie reviews and topics

All of you already know James Rolfe as the AVGN. I started watching him before Youtube was even a thing, before he was even signed on with Screwattack. Back when his videos could only be seen on his own website (or for some reason included on the free DVD you got with the local video game magazines). However, I eventually outgrew the outrage style humour of the AVGN episodes... but then James started doing Monster Madness where he would talk about his love for horror movies, and this where I learned about his vast knowledge about movie history and even films I had never even heard mention of before! I think it’s safe to say, he got me to be interested in movie history just as much as movie production and film as a viewing experience.

I recommend this playlist which is a hodgepodge of James talking about old horror movie franchises, talking about his first experience with Power Rangers as someone who didn’t grow up with it, or how Bob Ross is a childhood hero of his. It’s an excellent play list that’s really laid back but you learn a lot of stuff from it. James is very informed for the most part and it leads you to wanting to check out a lot of these things too, just because he’s so passionate about it.

If I ever get over my weird hang up about speaking out loud, these are the kinds of videos I’d like to make.

Vinesauce Vinny: The Neverhood

Vinny is by no means a new Let’s Player, having been on Youtube for over 10 years now, but I only started watching him a few months ago. I started with this playlist when I saw he was doing The Neverhood, a game I had heard about but never seen played before. The Neverhood is a bizarre game, as a point and click PC game from the 90s where the entirety of the video game was made with stop motion and clay. Something that sounds so insane you would say it’s impossible if not for the fact that it exists. The claymation itself is extremely well done, and the game has a really weird and absurd sense of humour. Just the strangest things happen in this thing. Now couple that with Vinny’s very dry and straightforward delivery and you have probably one of the funniest Let’s Plays I’ve watched in a long time.

This is also “short” for a Let’s Play series. With only 4 parts to it, the longest video only being a bit under and hour and 30 minutes. It’ll still take up a good chunk of your time, but it’s not as daunting as some of the other Let’s Plays I’ll mention on this list.

Team Four Star: Pokemon Shield Nuzlocke

Exactly what it says on the tin. The guys from Team Four Star play Pokemon Shield with Nuzlocke rules. They’ve done several Nuzlocke runs in the past, but I find the Pokemon Shield is the best one they’ve done. Especially since a lot of the needless fluff and grinding has been edited out. So unlike some of their previous series you don’t see a lot of Kieran and Grant running in a circle for an hour trying to catch a specific pokemon or trying to get to a certain level.

It’s also hilarious as they have a lot of “house rules” for the Nuzlocke often involving the exercise bike they.... have..... for some reason.

It’s very good and the gym battles become SUPER hype with the Nuzlocke rules and the music.

Baywatching

Having been going to a few years now, watch Allison try her very best to go through and do a video series where she talks about summarises every episode of Baywatch.

.... Ever. Single. Episode.

She’s not even close to done yet (and now she’s introduced Baywatch Nights AS WELL) but her trying to explain the batshit insanity of this show, it’s over the top characters, it’s insane plots and behind the scenes weirdness with all the enthusiasm and love for this slice of 90s is amazing. Please enjoy a good thick chunk of inside jokes, silly character voices, and a whole lot of ?????

Brutal Moose: Shenmue

Probably one of the most chill channels on all of Youtube, Brutal Moose aka Ian, prefers playing games you wouldn’t think would make for good Let’s Plays. And maybe they don’t, objectively. A collection of playlists covering Truck Simulator, Nancy Drew, Hidden Object games etc etc, spliced in with old commercials from drive in theaters from the 50s,60s and 70s. Ian’s Let’s Play channel is great for just putting on and letting play for company while you’re drawing or grinding in a video game or playing Stardew or something.

I recommend his Shenmue playthrough as Ian completely fell in love with the game and went on to play both the sequel and the newly released third game. Ian genuinely adores the weird voice acting and all the menial tasks and mini-games you can do. I watched this a lot in 2018 when I was going through a rough time, and it really helped me in a strange way to just put Ian on and listen to him talk to the chat and drive a forklift around for like 4 hours straight before going to Tomato Mart or wasting all his money on the gacha machines.

A Measured Response to “In Defense of Dark Souls 2″

At some point, big name youtuber Hbomberguy made a video called “In Defense of Dark Souls II”. I’m not subscribed to Hbomberguy but I enjoyed his video on why Sherlock (the BBC show) is trash. (come to think of it I should have added that to the first list). And it seems the video on Sherlock was really good and well argued.... and it seems his “In Defense of Dark Souls 2″ video... was not.

Using subjective language, bad representation of facts, or simply outright getting certain information wrong, Hbomberguy′s video on Dark Souls II is, at best, a man trying to argue that he likes Dark Souls II because it is “Objectively good”, rather than simply accept he likes it... because he likes it.

MauLer is kind of an asshole, but I have learned more about dissecting someone’s argument and deconstructing what they have said watching his response series than I have in any english or debate class I have ever had.

The response is over 10 hours long, but this is because MauLer takes time with each and every statement he takes umbrage with, discussing what is being said, discusses why it is false or dubious, and then compares with actual facts and research.

If you ever want to know how to to distinguish subjective opinion from objective fact in someone else’s argument regarding... ANYTHING really, I highly recommend this series.

I may not like MauLer as a person, but DAMN if he doesn’t know how to deconstruct an argument in a logic, emotionless way.

John Wolfe: Maize

Maize is a stupid game. a Stupid stupid game.

It involves sentient corn, and underground secret genetics lab, a Russian bootleg teddy bear that hates everyone, sentient corn, and a crumpet.

This game IMMEDIATELY went on my wishlist after watching this playthrough. Please watch John try and figure what the actual fuck is going on in this Monty Python-eque weird black comedy. It’s stupid, it’s weird, it’s bizarre and it’s honestly one of the funniest games I’ve seen streamed.

Hollywood: a Celebration of the Silent Era

This is not a youtube playlist. I mean it IS, but what this actually is, is a TV series released in the UK in 1980 covering the Silent Film era. As it was made in 1980, it includes interviews with many of the silent film stars who were often still alive during this documentary’s production. Each episode covers a specific theme of the silent movie era. One episode is about comedies, one is about WWI, one is about Westerns etc etc.

It’s a fascinating series, because it focuses on the silent era which, in modern day, I think many people unfairly think of as “those first few years of movies before movies really became a thing.” And that’s such a shame and really not true. The artistry, camera tricks, and raw nature of this early era of film making is so important and produced films which can still be watched today easily, possibly even easier than a few modern movies as often the very fact that the films are silent means they are universal, regardless of what language you speak.

I think an episode or two might have been turned to private or copyright claimed in this playlist, but I know if you do a search on youtube you can find the episode uploaded by someone else.

Diamanda Hagan: Bonekickers

Bonekickers is the show Mathew Graham made before he went on to work on the new Dr. Who. It is about archaeologists and it is God-fucking-Awful.

It is.... look. Ok. I like Archaeology a lot. But this isn’t a show that’s bad “if you like history” or “if you know things about archaeology”. This show is bad because it doesn’t make a single fucking lick of sense, all the characters are awful and terrible, and even if you understand what’s going on in the story you’re still going to be screaming “WHY????” at the screen as each new baffling stupid piece of the puzzle slots into place.

Diamanda Hagan has 0 time for this garbage and she’s going to walk you through each episode to show you how truly horrible this piece of garbage is.

Cry Plays: Ori and the Blind Forest

With Ori and the Will of the Wisps releasing recently, now is a great time to go and watch Cry playthrough the first Ori game. an absolutely gorgeous piece of work with a beautiful soundtrack and really likeable character designs and a sweet story, Ori is a great game to put on, sit back, and just let it wash over you. Cry’s playthrough is also great because although its a Metroidvania game, Cry fast forwards the parts where he backtracks for a long period of time, so you don’t get stuck watching him run back and forth as he tries to figure out where to go next or anything like that.

Cry also recently started playing the sequel as well!

If you enjoyed this list at all, please consider tipping me for a coffee

☕️ Ko-fi ☕️

[meta-squash]

Your ADHD procrastination post has really stroke a nerve with me. I've had the same issue for years, but thought it's normal for everyone. Since about a year or so, I've been wondering if I may have an undiagnosed ADHD along diagnosed conditions. If it's not too personal, how else ADHD manifests in you? I hope it's okay to ask. I love hearing women's stories about ADHD because they are much different than the stereotypical image of it...

It’s not too personal! (FYI I go by they/them pronouns, but I am afab; it’s all good though!) Also, this got VERY long, I’m sorry! I’m verbose and have a lot to say, apparently.

So I personally have a weird relationship with ADHD. I was diagnosed with it (or some sort of attention deficit thing) when I was in like 3rd or 4th grade. I was briefly medicated but I think I was on Ritalin (I forget) and my child body couldn’t handle it; I was a zombie during the day and then when it wore off at night I was Evil and freaked out and wanted to fight everything. So I went off it pretty quick and didn’t get medicated after, presumably because my parents thought my ADHD wasn’t bad enough.

The reason they probably thought that is because my brother has Really Bad ADHD. Like, all the classic stereotypical symptoms and characteristics to the extreme: never shuts the fuck up, really damn loud all the time, extremely high energy, can learn pretty much anything in about 5 seconds but can’t actually hang on to an interest really (now that he’s an adult he can, but not as a kid), can’t sit still or pay attention in class, doesn’t finish homework, etc etc. I was able to mask mine and function enough to get through school just riding pretty much on my humanities grades alone. It sucked a lot but I somehow did it. I had an IEP (Individual Education Plan, which is a US school thing for kids with learning disabilities and such that allows for accommodations and assistance in school) but it didn’t do much except I think give me extra time on math tests because of my dyscalculia (I was in Special Ed Math my whole grade school career). My mother is an OT but I also think that (as you said) ADHD in afab people often manifests differently than in amab people, so I guess my parents just didn’t know what to look for and that’s why I never really got the same help as my brother.

I like to jokingly categorize ADHD into two distinct but overlapping types: Fast ADHD and Mush Brain ADHD. Fast ADHD (in my opinion; this may vary from person to person) is the classic stereotype symptoms. Fast ADHD’s focus problem is too much happening all at once. Lots of thoughts and ideas flying by and you get distracted mid-thought with another thought, or your train of thought gets really crazy but is super fast so your reply to someone’s comment might not make much sense to anyone else because they weren’t privy to your brain’s journey, or you go down a focus worm-hole and sit and do One Thing all day and forget to surface for things like food/water/bathroom. Fast ADHD has more energy (though when paired with depression that usually manifests as restlessness or anxiety) and is quicker to pick up new things. Mush Brain ADHD is kind of the opposite. Thoughts take longer, or you think of something and then it almost immediately disappears (for example, scrolling a website, seeing something that you want to google, you scroll for like 5 more seconds and think “wait, I completely forget what I was going to look up”). With Mush Brain ADHD it’s harder to have conversations because thought-to-mouth time is slower, rather than (with Fast Brain) lots of stuff is going on up there. Mush Brain often feels like, well, mush and like you can’t really form thoughts very well if you want to do stuff. It’s like you’re trying to focus on thinking a thought but it just slides away. Another way I’d describe it is having thoughts but it’s like they’re on a blackboard and they’re being erased as you think them, so they end up mostly smears. Obviously, this is just based on my own experiences as a Mush Brain ADHD person while my brother has Fast Brain ADHD, so this might be different for other people.

Both have lots of overlaps: executive dysfunction (that’s the big one), insomnia, auditory processing problems, hyperfixation (which is not a bad thing! I love my hyperfixations! They’re fun!), absolutely crap organizational skills, constantly losing things, really bad perception of time, detachment from the world (like you drift off into your own daydream, or things feel distant, but not quite the same as depersonalization/dissociating),  difficulty making choices, sensory processing disorder, crap abilities with money, rejection sensitive dysphoria, and often comorbid mental illnesses like depression, OCD, anxiety, dyscalculia/dyslexia, etc.

 Oh, and a lot of ADHD characteristics also overlap with depression characteristics (and a lot of people with ADHD have comorbid depression, so it really doesn’t help).

But I can tell you about my own experiences with some of these.

The Big One which is basically what that schrodingers motivation post is about, is executive dysfunction. People also call it procrastination (it only kind of is) or inertia. Basically, executive dysfunction is where the difficulty lies in starting the task. You want to do something, but you just can’t get going to do it. You get sort of paralyzed. It even happens with things you like. For example, when I made that post, there was a short (just over 100 pgs) book I wanted to read before the end of the day. It’s a good book! It’s on my reading list! I want to read it! But I just sat on my computer and watched dumb youtube videos because that’s what I was already doing and executive dysfunction makes starting tasks really hard. This happens to me a lot. It can happen with reading a book, or getting up to go to the store and buy groceries, or making a meal, or watching a movie. The movie-watching one happens to me a lot. Basically it’s the brain struggling to switch tasks; you’re scrolling tumblr, and that’s what your brain is focused on, and it doesn’t know how to switch from doing that to doing your bio homework or folding the laundry or whatever the task may be. This happens with “bigger” or more complex tasks too, like starting an art project or starting a new book, because your brain has to figure out all the components of that task (I need these items for my project and this amount of time and I need to use them in this order) which is overwhelming, or it needs to comprehend how “big” the task is (how much time/concentration should I try and commit to in order to read this book) which is sometimes hard to gauge. Oh, also this can happen if you’re interrupted in the middle of a task, whether it’s to do another thing or just to answer a question or something; it’s hard to get back to it because it’s another kind of switching tasks. Aside from the blackboard-being-wiped-thoughts, this is my biggest ADHD problem. I can go more into how I dealt with executive dysfunction in college and now if you want!

Auditory processing issues is another thing that I deal with, although to a lesser extent than some people. It just means it’s harder for your brain to process sounds/talking. Part of this, for me, is because if someone is talking to me but there’s other noises (music, other conversations, general loudish ambiance) going on around us, my brain treats them all as equally important and I can’t focus in on the person talking. Another part for me is in my experience I seem to process conversation different from explanation. If I’m talking back and forth with someone about something and it’s not terribly important, I’m fine. If they’re trying to explain something to me, give me instructions, or read a passage of text to me, it just does not stick in my brain. If I’m helping my best friend with her grad school applications, I have to read the sentence she’s asking me check, I can’t have her read it to me. If she does read it to me, I’ve realized that I try to imagine the words as text in my head so I comprehend it better (it doesn’t always work). Auditory processing issues means that a lot of my conversations in public with people who are not my close friends (and therefore easier to pick out from the noise because familiar and/or easier to predict because familiar) are filled with a lot of me going “what?” Retail conversations with customers are slightly easier because there’s at least a mild “script” that they’ll stick to, usually.

Another one I experience is organizational problems. This one was bad enough that I actually went to a tutor-like thing to help me with it for most of grade school. Basically, I had no ability to organize tasks like doing homework or other activities, so things would get forgotten/lost/never even written in the calendar/etc. I couldn’t do projects because I couldn’t (and still kinda can’t) organize far enough into the future. I didn’t know how to break the project down across multiple days or weeks and make it manageable without totally forgetting pieces of it. I’d forget to write down homework when the teacher wrote it on the board, or I’d write it down but forget to do it. Or I’d do it but misplace it or leave it at home. My perception of time was also really crap; I couldn’t read an analogue clock until I was in maybe 6th grade? Even now I sometimes have trouble. It was hard to know how much time I had to allot to certain projects because I didn’t really have good perception of how hours fit in the day and how much time until homework is due and stuff. (Which meant lots of finishing things in class minutes before I had to turn it in and stuff. Once in uni I completely forgot to do an Entire Essay; luckily it wasn’t a class I needed to graduate.)

Along with this is losing EVERYTHING. I misplace things CONSTANTLY. I’ll put something that’s in my hand down to get a cup of tea or something, or even just to like, move a blanket, and I’ll forget where I put it. I’ve solved this problem with Important Things (wallet, phone, and keys always go next to my bed, for example, and rarely move from there if they’re not in my pocket. All important papers go in my Important Papers Folder as soon as soon as possible) but I lose regular stuff all the time. I’ll be working on an art project, I’ll put my glue stick down to reach for a piece of paper, and lose the glue stick in the time it takes to pull the paper towards me. The other day I was brushing my teeth and I put the toothbrush cover down to say hello to the cat and forgot where I had put it down once I had followed her to the next room. When things have a Place it’s easier, but I’ve learned to live with going “Where the FUCK did I put this thing? I had it a second ago!” at least once a day.

The “Mush” in “Mush Brain” is another big one for me. I don’t know if this has, like, a name? Or anything? It’s just what I call it. The best description for it would either be that blackboard description from above, or like you’re struggling to get to a thought through a lot of mud. Oftentimes I’ll have a sort of concept of a thought but not something full, and I know it’s there, but I can’t get to it. This is really apparent when I’m trying to remember a synonym for something, or trying to elaborate on certain concepts or pull ideas from texts. It doesn’t happen all the time. I was an English lit major in uni, so this affected me a lot back then. It’s sort of a similar feeling to reading the same sentence over and over and not registering the words, except it’s in your own brain instead. This kind of goes away for me when I’m writing/typing. Writing this out is easy (minus me forgetting the word executive dysfunction for like 5 minutes) but if you were asking me to explain this aloud I would struggle, probably. This is probably because I can stare at what I’ve written to see what’s missing or edit my thoughts, which I can’t do while I’m speaking, and also can’t do to other people’s interactions with me.

Just a general inability to focus is also one I struggle with. It goes with the “mush brain” to an extent but I think it’s different. It’s more like my brain doesn’t want to, well, focus on anything. If I’m just messing around on my laptop, that means I end up clicking back and forth between tabs endlessly because nothing is holding my interest. If I’m trying to read or do anything “intellectual” or “academic” it means I just can’t get myself to read or I can’t keep my thoughts on what I’m trying to write no matter how hard I try. Nothing holds my interest for long enough, it’s like brain restlessness. I try and concentrate on doing something, watching something, reading something, and my brain just slides away from it.

Rejection sensitive dysphoria is something I experience on a more minor level. It’s something that also overlaps with anxiety and depression. Basically, it’s a really intense emotional reaction to (perceived) rejection. For example, if my best friend says something to me with a certain tone or gets mad at me for doing something minor, my brain just goes “She hates you! She doesn’t want to be friends with you! You should isolate in your room and never speak to anyone again because you’re so annoying and terrible!” I know that’s mostly incorrect (although I also know I’m quite annoying and that’s another ADHD characteristic; knowing you’re annoying someone in some way and having no idea how to stop) so I can fight it but sometimes I do end up holing up in my room for a little bit. Things like criticism (whether towards you or towards, like, an essay or something) can also trigger this reaction. So can things like having an expectation that you’ll be good at something, and then failing at it or just not being as good as you’d hoped. (I developed a sort of defense mechanism for this one of never expecting to be good at things and never expect higher than a C in a class.) It also can come with a sense of feeling inferior around people doing similar things. It happens to me a lot here on tumblr, actually, because I’ll write a meta about something, and then read someone else’s good meta on the same thing, and feel like I’m an idiot and they’re really smart and nothing that I wrote was insightful or good. It happened to me in uni a lot too. It also happens to me kind of...secondhand, now. What I mean is, my best friend/roommate is extremely smart. Like genuinely one of the smartest people I know and an incredible thinker, straight A’s at uni in a degree she created, etc. She still gets imposter syndrome herself and feels like she’s not smart, and when she says she’s not smart, I feel bad for her but I also feel really terrible about myself, because if she thinks she’s stupid, then what am I? But again, it’s an overreaction to perceived rejection. It still sucks though.

There’s some evidence that ADHD comes with a whacked out sleep schedule. And not just insomnia (although that too, I know this because it’s 7am and I haven’t slept yet lol), but also Delayed Sleep Phase Disorder. Which basically means that most people’s circadian rhythms start slowing down so they’ll go to sleep around like 11pm-1am-ish, give or take. ADHD circadian rhythms are shifted so often we start getting tired around 3am or even 4 or 5am. (This is different from insomnia, btw, with DSPD you can fall asleep fairly easily, you just get tired later in the night; with insomnia it’s an inability to or difficulty in falling asleep quickly.) I always thought I’d just gotten my dad’s night owl genes, but it’s more likely that it’s the ADHD. I also have at least mild insomnia and it takes me a million years to fall asleep a lot of the time.

Hyperfixations are the Fun part of having ADHD (in my opinion). They can get in the way sometimes but they’re also really comforting and nice. Hyperfixations happen when you find an interest and it’s basically all you want to think or talk about, and you relate to the world through it, and you want to learn everything about it. It’s also a characteristic of autism. I’m not autistic, so I don’t know if there are major differences between ADHD hyperfixation experiences and autism ones. Anyway, often hyperfixations stick with you for a good amount of time, depending on the strength, and then you might find something else to focus on. Some of my hyperfixations have lasted a few months, some up to 4 years. A lot of ADHD people rotate through the same or similar ones. For example, a hyperfixation I had back in 2011-2014/15ish was Les Miserables. I then found a different thing to hyperfixate on. This past year I have returned to Les Mis. Hyperfixations are usually pretty cool, because it’s usually something you really like and enjoy learning about or doing and it’s kind of like the thing your brain would rather be doing/focusing on.

Personally, I’ve lived so long without ADHD medication that I’m fairly functional without it just due to coming up with personal adaptations and stuff. The thing that I have the hardest time with/that upsets me the most is the Mush Brain part, which also gets worse when my depression gets worse. I really would love to have clear, quick thoughts whenever I want. It’s frustrating to hold a conversation or try to write creatively and quickly when it takes forever for thoughts to fully crystallize in my brain and then come out my mouth or fingers. Right now I don’t have very good health insurance (all blame to covid layoffs) so I can’t really do the meds thing but I often wish I could. My ADHD is definitely not as intense or severe as some people’s. I have friends, and also my brother, who struggle a lot more than I do, and with different things

Holy hell this was so long. Feel free to message me if you have any questions! Or if you want me to elaborate on some of the things I do to deal with stuff.

[bandzrus]

Tattoos (One-Shot)

Machine Gun Kelly x Reader

Masterlist

SUMMARY // requested by @icalldibsonharrystylesandluke – “if your requests are open, would you consider doing some mgk one shots, blurbs or whatever? That would be highly appreciated”

NOTE // I’ll be honest and say writing this scared me because I’m not actually that familiar with MGK – I basically only know him because of The Dirt, so disclaimer for OOC behavior and incorrect information.

WORDS // 2314

TAGLIST // @divaanya @icalldibsonharrystylesandluke ((okay I am so sick of tumblr not wanting to let me tag people this is so stupid))

***

              You’d started dating Colson around the same time he’d gotten the call to play Tommy Lee on The Dirt, which meant you got to come along to New Orleans with him.  It was great for you; you’d always wanted to travel there and now you got to do it with your boyfriend and watch him make what you knew was going to be a killer movie. You weren’t allowed on set all the time, but it was easy to keep busy sight-seeing around New Orleans and checking things off your bucket list.  It was even better when Colson had a day off and the two of you could do things together. But whenever you were allowed you could never wipe the smile off your face.  You’d grown up on Motley Crue and now you were watching your boyfriend bring their music back to life.  It was nothing short of surreal.  One of your favourite parts though was watching the transformation from Machine Gun Kelly to Tommy Lee.  You often spent time in the makeup and costume trailer with him, and it blew your mind.  It was weird watching your boyfriend morph into one of your idols.

              You’d help him go over lines, watch him practice twirling drumsticks, and film little behind-the-scenes stuff on his phone for him.  It was kind of a weird way to spend quality time with your boyfriend, but it was a lot of fun.  The whole trip was by far the most amazing experience of your life, but if you had to pick one thing that you loved above everything else from the trip, the times you helped Colson wash the makeup that covered his tattoos off were your favourites.  

                You beamed as Colson walked off the stage set.  You’d been watching them perform Motley songs all day for a gig scene and they were honestly incredible.  With all the screaming extras, it almost felt like you were at the real thing.  You could still tell it was weird for the other guys, but performing was like second nature for your boyfriend.

              “You guys were amazing up there!” you congratulated, throwing your arms around his sweaty neck.

              “You really think so?”

              “Yes!  You look just like the real deal, and if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were a first-rate drummer!” you gushed.

              “That was the last scene we had to film today, so we can go back to the trailers if you want.”

              “Ooo what are you implying?” you teased him, pulling back to give him a cheeky grin.  He just laughed.  “I’m just teasing, I know you’re probably exhausted.”

              “I mostly just want to get this wig and makeup off,” Colson confessed, leaning down to give you a little peck on the lips.  You nodded your head.  Giving you a big smile, he grabbed your hand and the two of you bid farewell to the rest of the cast and crew.  It was getting close to dinner time and the sun was starting to sink below the horizon, painting the sky every shade of pink, purple and orange and making everything seem golden.  You looked up at Colson as the two of you walked hand in hand back to his trailer. He had that post-show glow that you’d seen well over a dozen times.  And you had to admit he looked really good in the leather pants and jacket.  Just like a rock star.

              A few more crew members were milling around the trailers when the two of you arrived, one of them being the girl who helped style all the boy’s wigs, Cassandra.

              “Hey, you’re back!” she greeted, putting down the book she’d been reading and jumping to get the door of the makeup trailer.  “Ready to get that wig off?”

              “Yes.”

              “I’ll try to be quick so you can hop in the shower and get the makeup off,” she smiled, ushering the two of you inside.  “I’m sure Y/N won’t mind helping with that.”

              You blushed a little as Cassandra winked.  Colson just laughed and plunked himself down in the makeup chair as Cassandra went to work ungluing his Tommy wig.  Pulling out your phone, you switched it to video.

              “How’d the shoot go today, babe?” you asked your boyfriend, capturing the moment.

              “Fuckin’ rocked it!”

              You laughed as he threw up the devil horns.

              “We did so fucking good we get the day off tomorrow.”

              “Really?” you squeaked, ending the recording and putting your phone down.

              “Yup, we can go to that restaurant you wanted to check out,” answered Colson. “They’re filming some other stuff tomorrow so we’re off the hook.”

              “I guess that means on break tomorrow too,” remarked Cassandra, slowly pulling the wig off Colson and placing it on the Styrofoam head on the makeup counter.  With nimble, practiced fingers she began working at his flattened hair to get it loose for washing.  You were always amazed how flat makeup and costume people could get actors’ hair underneath the wigs.  Propping yourself up on the counter, you watched her work in comfortable silence until she was finished.  Ruffling his hair to signal she was finished, she flashed you a smile.

              “All done, pal!”

              “Thanks Cas,” said Colson, getting up from the chair.  You reached for his free hand as he waved at her with the other as the two of you left the makeup trailer.  Colson’s trailer was on the other side of the lot, but you didn’t mind the walk.  The air was still warm and any alone time with your boyfriend no matter how small was always nice.  Grinning up at him, you tugged at the sleeve of his leather jacket.

              “Think you’ll get to keep some of this stuff afterwards?” you asked him.

              “Not sure, but I’m kinda growing fond of the pants,” he replied, grinning.

              “They look good on you.”

              “You sweat buckets in them but they look fuckin’ rad.”

              The two of you arrived at Colson’s trailer and you opened the door.  It would have been dark inside, except Colson had installed one of those disco-type lights that spins around and shines little circles of colour everywhere that he always left on.  Dropping your purse on one of the seats, you watched your boyfriend shrug off the leather jacket and unbutton his leather pants. Stretching, you missed seeing all his tattoos, especially the really big piece on his back.  It was your favourite.

              “It’s so weird seeing you without your tattoos,” you commented.

              “Yeah, it still weirds me out every day.”

              “Do you want to eat something or take a shower first?” you inquired, flopping down on the couch that ran under one of the trailer windows.

              “Shower.”

              “Then pizza?”

              “Yes!”

              “Sounds like a plan,” you smiled.  You watched him tug off the leather pants and toss them onto the back of a chair before sliding open the bathroom door.  The bathroom on the trailer wasn’t huge, but it did have a shower which was pretty luxury.  Leaving it open a crack, you heard him start the water and wait a minute or two for the water to get warm.  There was the usual bumping and thumping and then you couldn’t help but grin when over the sound of water you heard him humming ‘Girls, Girls, Girls’.  Relaxing on the couch, you kicked your feet up and entertained yourself by watching the lights go around and around the cabin of the trailer.  It was hypnotic and you probably stared at them for well over five minutes before you heard Colson calling for you from the bathroom.

              “Hey babe,” he called.

              “Yeah?”

              “Mind helping me get some of this shit off?  I can’t reach.”

              “Sure.”

              Sliding off the couch, you opened the door to the bathroom.  It was all steamy and warm inside, and Colson’s boxers had been discarded on the toilet seat.  You couldn’t see into the shower because the glass was all fogged up.

              “Want to just open the door and hand me the cloth?” you asked, rolling up your sleeves.

              “The water’s gonna get everywhere if I open the door.”

              “How do you want me to do this then?”

              “The shower’s not that small, get in here.”

              “Pardon?” you squeaked.

              “Get in here!  I can’t reach and I want this stuff off!” he chuckled opening the shower door just a crack to peek his head out.  “Take your damn clothes off!”

              You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks as you shook your head at him.

              “Oh my god,” you laughed.  “Fine!”

              Your cheeks flushed darker and darker as Colson watched you pull your shirt up over your head and wriggle out of your jeans.  Standing there in your underwear, you placed your hands on your hips and looked at him.

              “I said take your clothes off,” he said, gesturing at your undergarments.

              “All of them?”

              “Yes, all of them.”

              You bit your lip.

              “Fine.”

              Undoing the clasp of your bra, you let it join Colson’s underwear on the toilet seat before you did the same with your panties.  

              “There, you happy now?” you huffed, even though there was a smile on your face.

              “Yess,” grinned Colson, pulling away from the door of the shower so you could slip in.  There was actually more room in the shower than you were expecting, and the water was nice and hot.  Colson had cleaned off a lot of the makeup, but there were still patches on his back that you could see were still covered.

              “It’s nice in here,” you remarked, letting the warm water hit your skin.

              “It’s nicer with you in here.”

              “Oh my god, you’re being so sappy today!” you chided, grabbing the washcloth from his hand.  “Turn around so I can get this makeup off.”

              Doing as he was told, you slowly started wiping off the makeup.  It was pretty heavy duty stuff, and even though he had managed to get most of it from his front, your favourite tattoo was still hidden under the stuff.  Holding his bicep with one hand, you used your other to gently uncover his tattoos. You smiled a little to yourself as you realized how much this felt like you were unearthing dinosaur bones or buried treasure.  Rubbing the cloth over his shoulders, you carefully wiped off more of the makeup.

              “Can you rinse this?  There’s a lot of this stuff,” you said, handing your boyfriend the washcloth since he was closer to the stream of water.  You leaned into his back and rested your cheek against his arm as he wrung out the cloth and handed it back to you.  

              “Thanks for doing this by the way,” he said, planting a kiss on top of your hair that was starting to get wet.  You rubbed your thumb over his as you took the washcloth back.  It was nice to spend a quiet alone moment with him after a long day, and the hot water felt really nice.  Going back to your scrubbing, you slowly uncovered more tattoos, working your way from his shoulders down his back.  He’d been in pants all day so they didn’t paint up his legs, but everything from the shoulders down to them had been.

              Finally you got to your favourite one, the Salvador Dali piece.  Wringing out the washcloth, you squeezed next to Colson to wet it again.  You smiled up at him, your chest bumping his arm.

              “I know I’ve said this before, but I love your tattoos,” you told him, tracing one of the ones on his shoulder with your index finger.  “Especially this one.”

              You started washing the makeup off the Salvador Dali, tracing bits of it with your other fingers.  Feeling Colson shudder a little under your touch, you giggled.

              “Sorry,” you apologized, uncovering more of the piece.

              “’S okay, just tickles a bit when you do that.”

              “Is that so?” you grinned devilishly, doing it again.

              “Hey, cut it out!” laughed Colson, turning around so you couldn’t tickle him anymore.  

              “You still have makeup on you!” you protested, trying to turn him back around by grabbing him by the sides of his arms.  He wouldn’t budge.

              “Don’t fuckin’ tickle me or I’m gonna start swinging!” he warned, doing fake karate moves with a huge grin on his face.  You just laughed.

              “Fine, fine, I’ll stop,” you promised, smacking him with the washcloth. “Turn around, I’m almost done.”

              Guiding him with your hands, you went back to cleaning the remaining makeup off Colson’s lower back until the whole tattoo was uncovered.  Hanging up the rag, and tracing one last teasing finger over it, you wiggled in under the water with your boyfriend.

              “You’re such a tease!” nagged Colson, referring to your tickling.

              “Yeeaaah, but you like it,” you replied cheekily, putting your head under the water and running your hands through it.  You felt his hands come to rest on your hips.  Wiping water off your forehead, you rested your arms on his shoulders and smiled before giving him a little peck on the lips.

              “That’s it?” he asked, feigning being hurt.  Shaking your head and rolling your eyes, you kissed him again, longer this time, letting your eyelids flutter closed.  Pulling you closer by your hips, Colson kissed you back.  This was hands down the best vacation ever. Colson, New Orleans, Motley Crue; it was a dream come true.  Surrounded by steam and warm water, you peppered a few more kisses on your boyfriend’s lips before you pulled back.

              “Do you still want to get pizza, or do you want to stay in here and get pruny?” you asked him, cocking an eyebrow suggestively.  The two of you were chest to chest as warm water cascaded down your back.  You watched him think about it for a second before he answered.

              “Pizza and sweats.”

              “Really?”

              “Yeah.”

              “Okay,” you smiled.  “Pizza and sweatpants it is!”

***

This took so friggin’ long to write I’m so sorry!  I kept getting distracted by TNFT.  Plus I don’t know much about MGK so I hope this doesn’t suck.  I don’t think I’ll do any more MGK requests just ‘cause I don’t feel that comfortable writing about people irl.  The Dirt characters yes - the real guys, not so much.  

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Time travel rescue pt.2; 11th Doctor x teen reader ft. Queen

*Author’s note*

Okay ya’ll so I hope you enjoyed the first part, now we get to pt.2 where Freddie and Roger take up majority of this chapter, so you get to see the craziness that I hoped I managed to get in based off of stories of their friendship and videos of them together so I hope I did this wonderful soulmate shipping justice. However fair warning that P**l Pr**ter makes his appearance so prepare your stomachs.

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@ixchel-9275

@waddles03

@platawnic

@bensrhapsody

@queendeakyy

@kairosfreddie​

@geek-and-proud​

____________________________________________________

The next morning I woke up and found myself in a hotel room of sorts.  At first I didn’t know what happened, it was all such a rush last night I—I had this dream that I had gone back to 1975 and actually met my favorite band, and that Roger actually allowed me to sleep in his room.

“Morning (y/n).” I heard that familiar soft voice call out from the kitchen.  Oh god it wasn’t a dream. I am actually in 1975 and I really did—or well currently meeting the band and Roger did give me his room for the night.  I looked up and said.

“Morning Roger.”

“How’d you sleep last night? The clothes work okay for you?” he asked.

“Yeah they—they worked out fine.”

“You hungry? I’m making eggs and cutting up some bread and bacon, I hope that’s alright.”

“That’s fine. I’m—actually quite hungry.”

“Well come on over to the kitchen and I’ll put an extra plate.” I got out of the bed and followed him to the kitchen.  I sat down at the kitchen island bar and he said again, “I don’t know how you like your eggs, so I made them scrambled which is what I prefer. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Well then you’re lucky that scrambled eggs is my favorite. Besides sunny side up makes me yack.”

“I know right, why do people claim that’s the best way to make eggs?” he exclaimed.  Wow so Roger Taylor and I have the same view on how eggs should be prepared, that’s amazing.  He handed me my plate and he asked. “Shall I prepare a cuppa?”

“I wouldn’t mind a cuppa.”

“Coming right up.” He then prepared me my drink while he had some coffee.  As the two of us sat down around the island and ate he asked me. “How are the wounds?”

“Doesn’t hurt as much as it did last night. You and your friends really know how to be doctors.”

“Well even though Brian and I would’ve been different doctors, I don’t think we did too bad. But I will need to change out the bandages and put some more antiseptic cream on it. Just to be on the safe side.”

“Whatever you think is best Roger.”

After breakfast, he put away the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen and that’s when he grabbed the first aid kit under the sink and guided me over to the couch.

“Alright, let’s see how this looks.” He then took a pair of scissors and slightly snipped an area of the bandage before slowly unwrapping it allowing my arm to breathe.  Once the bandages were off, I could see the gnarly scars that I now bore on my arm. Long and thin but thankfully not so deep that I need stitches. “Well it seems to be closing up quite nicely. With how bad they were yesterday, I was beginning to think they wouldn’t. At least not in this speed.”

“Guess I just got enhanced healing powers or something.” I joked. He smiled and rubbed some more cream on my scars before taking another roll of bandages and wrapping it around my arm.  Just as he was about to finish, the door suddenly opened and there stood Freddie all dolled up and ready to head out.

“Let’s go my darlings it’s shopping time!”

“In a second Fred, I’m still wrapping up her arm.” Roger told him as he went back to wrapping my forearm delicately. Freddie came over and sat on the other side of me and he asked me.

“Did you sleep okay dear?”

“Yeah, like a baby actually.”

“Good. That’s just what you needed after what happened to you. But are you sure you don’t want to make a police report about this?” he said as he stroked his fingers through my hair.  Aww Freddie god bless you, why were you taken away from us so soon? We really could’ve used you in today’s society.

“I’m sure Fred. Besides I doubt they’d believe me. I didn’t even see their faces. They wore black masks over their faces so I couldn’t even see their faces.”

“Alright darling. Well once blondie’s done here, I know just the thing to help boost your spirits up. A nice, well deserved shopping day.”

“There, I’m done.”

“Marvelous my darlings, let’s go!” Freddie stood up gracefully and raised his hands over his head and clapped them once.

“Hold on you rotter, we still need to get dressed. I’d rather not go out in my pajamas in the bloody cold.” Roger guided me towards the bedroom once more and I said to him.

“Uhh Rog. What am I gonna wear?”

“Just relax love, I’m sure I got something.” He went through his closet and pulled out a pair of denim jeans as well as a queen hoodie that looked like he had taken from Deacy.  He also took out a fur coat and said. “Will this do?”

“Yeah. Again I really appreciate you sharing your clothes with me.”

“Like I said last night, it’s no trouble. When Queen was first starting off, we barely had enough money to buy new clothes so we pretty much shared clothes with each other. I think we each had a chance at wearing one shirt for different photoshoots on separate occasions.”

“Wow I—I never knew that.” Liar. Of course I knew that, I’ve seen the pictures of the guys wearing the same shirts on tumblr that someone posted.  Once again I got changed in the loo and once I got out, Roger went inside and proceeded to do his health and beauty stuff.

While he brushed his teeth and brushing through his long blonde hair, I couldn’t help but stare at him.  Now I’ll admit, I did fall for the handsome 1970’s Roger Taylor (in fact 70’s and 80’s Roger I had a crush on) but then my crush slowly faded away and turned to something else, it’s like I—kinda pictured a sorta brother-sister relationship.

“Could you take any longer getting ready Rog? I swear you take longer than me!” Freddie complained as he leaned up against the bedroom door.

“It’s called a miracle Fred. And envy is an ugly thing on you.” Roger teased to which Freddie flipped him the bird.  God they really were soulmates, I can’t imagine just how hurt Roger was finding out Fred died when he was just about to see him in a matter of minutes.

“Are we ready to go yet?” Freddie whined as Roger fluffed his hair out and shook his wild mess of hair like a lion shaking his mane and said.

“Alright you impatient bugger. Let’s go (y/n).” I was then put in between them and we left Roger’s room.

As we drove through downtown London, we soon came across a shop that closed down before my time but it was starting grounds for both Roger and Freddie, Kensington Market.

“Hope you don’t mind coming here love. We would take you to Biba but that’s all the way on East London and we’re scheduled for a rehearsal by noon.” Roger said.

“I don’t mind. I’ve—heard some good things about this place.”

“You know Rog and I once had a stall in this joint together before I officially joined the band.”

“Really? What did you guys sell?”

“Oh any old clothes that we could find. Though I’ll never forget that jacket you and Brian tried to sell. That was my favorite jacket.”

“Well then you shouldn’t have had it on the rack then, should you?” Roger mocked as he shut the engine off after finding a parking space. “Plus it’ll be cheap and not as crowded as the stores are right now. Last minute Christmas shoppers and all.”

“Agreed.” We all got out and quickly walked inside the market.  And inside I saw anything and everything.  From antiques, to bridal wear, clothes, furniture, everything small and large you could imagine. “Whoa.”

“I know it’s a little intimidating at first but no worries lovie, you’ll get used to it.” Roger said as he wrapped an arm around me.

“Alright my darlings, let’s head down memory lane. To the clothing stall!” Freddie then dragged us down the store almost towards the end of the building where a clothing stall was all set up.  Behind the counter there was a young black woman with an afro, she wore a Christmas sweater and jeans and was sucking on a lollipop.  “Well I’ll be damned. Billie. Billie Tyler?” she looked up and grinned.

“Oh shit no. Freddie Mercury and Roger Taylor! Never did I think I’d see you two bastards here again.” She grinned.

“So you’re working our stall now?” Roger asked.

“Yeah. Ever since you two boys got all rich and famous, I went ahead and took over the stall.”

“Well hate to burst your bubble but we’re still not rich and famous.” Said Roger.

“What? After all the big success you guys did at the Rainbow last year?”

“That’s the thing. We don’t get paid on our tours. In fact just recently we left our first company because they screwed up our payments. Our manager didn’t even want to give any money so that Deacy could marry Veronica.”

“What?! Those stuck up bastards! I hope Deacy got the wedding he deserved though.”

“It was a small court ceremony but it was still sweet. Although had we had the money, I would’ve planned the perfect wedding for them.” Said Freddie.

“Oh please Fred, you’d invite half of London along with all crazy people you invite to the after parties.” Said Roger.

“So who’s this? Little groupie?” she asked gesturing towards me.

“No. This is (y/n).” Roger said introducing me. “(Y/n), this is Billie Tyler. When Fred and I worked here, she worked at the boutique just across from us. We’d hang out and have lunch on our breaks, she was basically our first fan.”

“Nice to meet you Billie.” I said reaching out a hand to her.  She shook my hand immediately and she said.

“Nice to meet you too (y/n). How’d you come across these two lugs?”

“Poor dear got jumped last night, thankfully Rog was around to help her out.” Said Fred as he placed a hand to my shoulder.

“Oh my god—are you okay?”

“Yeah. Just a really bad scratch along my forearm but nothing too bad.”

“Well I would’ve honestly preferred to run into Bri had I been jumped but I’m glad you had Roger to help you out.” Roger looked at her crossly and she playfully stuck her tongue out at him. “So what brings you three here to Kensington market?”

“Well darling, we were hoping to get (y/n) some clothes. She—kinda came with just one set of clothes and has been sharing Roger’s style since last night. So we’re hoping you might have something that just screams her.”

“I think I might have some stuff. Come with me (y/n) and we can get you out of those boy clothes and into some stylish clothes I have.” She took my uninjured arm and pulled me into the stall and took me towards the changing room she had installed in the back room.

It was then I was given the full 1970’s fashion show.  Both Billie and Freddie practically took me and started treating me like a doll, forcing me to try on clothes, hats, coats, bell bottom jeans, the whole nine yards.

“And I’m telling you it’s flea-bitten Fred. I wouldn’t even dream of someone wearing that!” exclaimed Billie dramatically.

“Oh don’t be so dramatic darling, I think (y/n) would look cute in this.” He said holding up a ragged old fur coat that looked like it hadn’t seen the light of day in years.

“You guys do realize she’s a person. Not a doll, let her speak for herself once in a while.” Roger said.  He turned towards me and mouthed out, ‘I’m so sorry.’ I waved it off.

“Alright then, why don’t we ask (y/n) what she’d like?”

“Yes let’s. (Y/n) darling please tell Billie and that devil mind of hers that you’d want this coat over the decade’s old 60’s coat. This just screams you.”

“Ah, ah, ah! No antagonizing the fashion star here Mercury.” Billie warned him.

“Actually guys, something did catch my eye earlier.” I then hopped off the podium and went over to a large brown jacket that had fur ends on both the sleeves and along where the front part meets with the zipper.  

It had an elegant pattern on it, kinda reminded me of old Norwegian drawings that I once saw back in 1031 when the Doctor and I were helping out against the threat the invading reindeer people (I forgot their real names, plus it was in Norwegian tongue so I just called them the reindeer people).

But anyways, I looked cute and it wouldn’t make me stand out as much.  I picked out a cute sweater, a scarf that almost kinda resembled what the Doctor could’ve worn, and one of the many pairs of bellbottom jeans I was given.

“How’s this?”

“Oh my darling, it’s like looking at a Renaissance painting. You are—phenomenal.” Freddie praised.

“But something’s missing.” Billie said.  She then went over to the hats and picked out dark grey flat cap.  She handed me the hat and I placed it on top of my head. “There. Now you’re an aesthetic.”

And that was that.  I got a few sweaters, a couple of turtlenecks, bell bottomed jeans, some boots similar to what Deacy always wore throughout the 1970’s, and any brown furred or faux fur coat that Billie had.  When everything was rung up, Roger asked.

“Okay how much do we owe you Billie?”

“For you guys it’s on the house.”

“Oh no, no, no darling we’ve got some money to spend now since we left the bastard at Trident and switched to EMI. Now how much?”

“I’m feeling generous today. Plus I hadn’t done a fashion show like that in years. Most customers just demand my stuff and that’s it. So this time it’s on me. But if you want a payment, come by next week after the New Year.” Freddie and Roger looked to each other and that’s when Freddie said.

“Throw in you coming to my New Year’s Eve party and you’ve got a deal darling.”

“It’s a deal Freddie.” They leaned in and kissed each other’s cheeks sealing the deal. “Good luck with the concert guys, I’ll be watching it from home. And it was nice meeting you (y/n).”

“Nice meeting you too Billie, and thank you for the clothes.”

“No problem. Cheers guys. And Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas Billie!” Rog and Fred proclaimed as we walked out of Kensington market.

After that, we headed down to the nearest grocery store for the simple items that I needed like toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush, socks, gloves, and Roger passed by some sunglasses and he had me try them on to which I said I looked ridiculous but to him, he thought I looked cute (which I won’t deny made me blush a little).

Once all the shopping was done, we headed back to the hotel and Roger helped me unpack my stuff.  As he was helping me put some of my clothes into his closet he asked me.

“Now (y/n), about that friend of yours. What exactly does he look like?” At that point I thanked god that the Doctor at least appeared human, because if he looked like anything else how do you explain that to your hero?

“Well, he’s got short brown hair, he’s pretty tall and lean. Kinda like Brian but not exactly the same height. Oh and he wears a bowtie.”

“What? Seriously?”

“Yeah he says they’re cool. But hopefully that helps. Oh and he basically wears a suit. All the time.”

“Okay what is he a doctor or something?”

“Something like that.”

“Do you recall where you think he might’ve ran off to?”

“That I—I don’t know. I guess I must’ve been knocked just before he ran. God I—I hope I can find him.”

“Hey, we will. I’ll turn all of London upside down if I have too to help you.” Roger said assuringly as he placed a hand on my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.  I looked up at him and softly smiled.

“Thank you Roger. I—literally don’t know what I would’ve done had I not ran into you.”

“Think nothing of it love. I’m glad we met last night.” He playfully ruffled my hair making me exclaim while he grinned and softly laughed.  It was then there was a knock at the door.

“Roger! Roger open the door now!” Oh no it couldn’t be. But as I saw Roger roll his eyes and make a disgusted face as he hauled himself towards the door.  I peeked over from the bedroom to see him open the door to reveal the man I feared I would come in contact with.

Paul Prenter.

“What do you want Prenter?”

“You were supposed to be at the Odeon theater 2 hours ago! Where the bloody hell have you been?!” God just hearing his Irish accent made me feel so dirty.  The bastard who became a bad influence on Freddie, and the greedy snake who would go on to sell off Freddie’s AIDS story for like 30,000 pounds was now standing right before my eyes.

“Unlike you Prenter, I know how to have fun.”

“Well your fun has costed the band two hours of rehearsal. Reid is livid right now!” It was then he somehow saw me and that’s when he barged in and said. “Is this the reason you’ve delayed the rehearsal? For some teenage hussy!?”

“Excuse me!?”

“You have no right to be in here. In fact I can have you arrested and charged with stalking.” Paul threatened.  That’s when Roger stepped in between him and I.

“You even think about that and I’ll have you thrown out the bloody window faster than you can blink!” he snarled protectively.

“You’ve been saying that for years Roger and yet you’ve never done it. You don’t got the nerve.” Bragged Paul.

“Do I?” it was then I watched as Roger dragged Paul towards the back door of the small balcony and forcefully pinned Paul’s head to the stone railings. “Wanna rethink that statement?”

“Okay! Okay! Okay just let me go!” Paul wept.

“Then get the hell out of my room and don’t even dare think about calling the police. Or else there’ll be a new decoration all along the pavement of the Marriot.” He picked Paul back up and forced him out of the room before slamming the door and locked it tight.

Holy shit! I wish that was shown in the movie. Damn Roger Taylor is a lion.

“I am so sorry about him. Paul can be a right up arsehole. I’ve been trying to convince Fred to fire him but somehow he still keeps him around.”

“It’s okay Rog. I’ve—been called worse than hussy.” It’s true.  When you’re involved with a gang, you are called way worse things, especially if you’re a girl.  I’ve been called the B word mostly, the P word and even the C word, all before I was 15.

“Who has called you that? What did they say?”

“Just some school punks back in primary school. You know how little boys are.”

“Even so, my mum taught me to never be rude to girls. Men who do such things like that aren’t even worth living. Nor should they even deserve to call themselves men.” As Roger said that, I noticed this harsh, distant look in his eyes.

Was he—I mean I remember reading a story of how he was a victim of domestic abuse.  There’ve been some theories that it was probably his dad since he was never really spoke much by Roger.  So—could that really be true?

“Rog? You—okay?” I said after he didn’t speak for what felt like 2 minutes.  He snapped out of his daze and said.

“Yeah. Yeah I’m fine. Well come on let’s head out and see if we can’t find that friend of yours.”

“Actually. Since I already got you and Fred into more trouble than I’d like, you should go to the rehearsals. I can search for him on my own.”

“Are you sure? I—wouldn’t want you to get hurt again. I have no problem coming with you.”

“Really Rog. It’ll be daylight, more witnesses so I doubt anyone’s gonna jump me. Besides I’ll bet Deacy and Brian are probably pissed at you and Fred for skipping out. Go, rehearse. I’ll meet you guys at around lunch time? Maybe even see you rehearse the concert?”

“I’d like that. And I’m sure Fred would too. If anything happens, here’s the number for the theater as well as my roadie/assistant Crystal.” He took a piece of paper from a notepad and quickly put down a couple of numbers before handing it over to me.

“Thank you.” I said as I took the notepad paper.

“Stay safe love.” And my heart literally stopped when I actually felt Roger kiss my cheek before grabbing his drumsticks and headed out the door.

Oh my god, I can’t believe I just got a kiss on the cheek from my idol.  I’ll admit internally I’m screaming my head off and melting right on the spot.  I placed my hand over the cheek he kissed and I just felt this warm, gooey feeling inside.

“Oh nana would not believe this.” I then got myself ready and headed on out of the hotel and proceeded to walk around the London streets.

As I saw Christmas decorations and lights on almost every corner, I kept muttering to myself.

“Oh Doctor where are you?” I listened carefully for any wheezing and groaning sounds, an eye for a blue police box, or a tall, lean man wearing a purple suit and bowtie.  But after about 2 hours walking along the streets I saw no one, not even the usual suspicious character that usually follows you once you break the time stream.

I sighed heavily and decided to just head over to the Hammersmith Odeon, because I swear if I stay out here any longer, I’m gonna freeze my organs off.  So I headed eastward towards the theater to meet with Roger and the rest of Queen and finally see my favorite band perform right before my eyes.

[sasusaku-on-the-brain]

Out of everything you’ve written, what lines are you most proud of? Finished or unfinished works 😁

Funny thing: I was actually reading through some of my older, older writings today. Huh. What a coincidence.

Thank you sending in for this absolutely beautiful ask. Seriously, It really made me so happy to write this. I have been agonising and trying to make myself write today but couldn’t, this realllly helped with that.  ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

Since you said “Lines” I’m going to choose more than one. ;)  

They aren’t in any particular order, the numbers are to keep track, this isn’t a ranking, definitely not, that’d be so stressful to do, haha. 

Warning: super long and excessive screaming :D 

Fudge. I realised I have been doing this for like 3 hours??? It was like 3 when i started and it’s now. 5 something. Wow. It didn’t feel that long. 

1. This is from a published work, (and we burned, like Icarus), a Grindeldore canon compliant fic where I just explore their relationship. I love and proud of a lot of lines in this one, but there’s one line in particular that stands out.

Line: The curtain fell; Albus stood in victory as the world cheered.

Reason: It’s kind of hard to put into words, but I absolutely love how much layers it has?? Like. There’s so much different ways that this line could be interpreted and I love that. Especially where I put it in the text. It looks like it’s a proud moment for him, he finally defeated the Dark Wizard but...it’s not. Also: “the curtain fell” Gellert surrended, Albus never bested him. I have More Thoughts but I suck at writing meta, so. I will leave this here. 

2. This is a unpublished piece of work, no title, a Sam&Rowena fic. It’s a cute thing that came to me when reading this fic on tumblr where Rowena calls sam, wee!sam which sparked an idea where Rowena sees Sam’s childhood photos and calls him that. 

Line: He blinks, glances up from his book open his lap and she’s—smiling, not mocking, or flirty, or even sly, mischievous but genuine, small and so very soft. It makes Sam’s eyes widen and his heart turn in his chest.

Reason: A SAMROWENA FIC. Mostly that reason. FINALLY GOT SOME WORDS FOR THESE TWO. YAY. Ahhhh. Anyways. Other than that: it’s so cute and soft and i just love it. And also because I was cleaning when I got hit by words and it was unexpected and I absolutely love how it turned out?? 

Also because lol I might be projecting on to Sam about his lil crush on Rowena. 

3. Unpublished. Another samrowena fic! because I’m super proud of these, I have been wanting to write these two for so long and finallly did!! No title, a canon compilant missing scene in 14.07 or .08 based on that line where Sam is like I called Rowena. 

Line: And she wonders what the problem is this time—Castiel? Or perhaps, Dean? Now that would be a delight. 

Reason: It was so fun to write, even cracked a smile and lil laugh. Also I think that i captured Rowena’s personality in here, which makes me super proud. 

4. Published! Bruised, A Jack fic into his thoughts when he escapes the  ma’lak box. (For some reason, I really love writing about this time.) Line: Jack can hear the Devil and knows what being buried alive feels like, knows how small, dark, cold spaces can kill you slowly without you dying at all.

Reason: So proud of this one. Especially the “can kill you slowly without you dying at all” *Incoherrant noises* Fudge. It’s soo good. And such an impactful ending. Just. I freaking love it. Gives me a lil chills everytime I read it. 

5. Published! Do titles count?? Because I’m going to choose one. It’s a Merlin canon compilant (again) fic that kind of looks at Merlin&Morgana’s relationship from Merlin’s view. It was absolutely, totally unexpected. Didn’t know where it came from, but I love it. 

we smiled, not knowing of the storm that would take everything (the storm that was us)

Reason: Okay, so. I was a bit stumped on the title, nothing was coming to mind. Reread it a few times, browsed through my sideblog to find some quotes... couldn’t find the One. So I was like first thing that comes and it was this?? and IT FITS SO PERFECTLY. I was agonising over if I should do the “us” pronoun or change it to a “me”. Still don’t know which is better, I’m leaning towards “Me” now. Anyways, wow. I’m still shocked at it freaking fits this fic so well. Perfectly sums up my fic.  Morgana and Merlin were such good friends and I looove how their relationship took a down fall. I’m weak for the FriendstoEnemies thing and I think that I caught this hear. How no one could have known that Morgana and Merlin would both be responsible for that Tragedy. And by no one, im including myself too.

6. Published! Another title one from another Merlin fic. Haha, seems like my Merlin Fic Titles are Such That Good. It’s that one from the Merlin kills himself, post-canon.

even the stars go cold eventually Reason: Apart from it being absolutely perfect for my fic, haha, it didn’t take much time for me to choose a title for it and because I love writing about stars and this particular one sticks with me. Especially with how it just goes so well with this fic. 

7. Published! A severus-centric fic, Cold feet, where I do a kind of character study on him in that era after the first war. This fic is a super messy but ahh, I love it very much. This one was so hard to choose because i’m proud a LOT of lines in here. I just love writing him. 

Line:  (It's a metaphor. It's a foreshadow. There is no clean break, there's jagged wound where his fist meets his reflection. A mess of blood and glass on the floor, fractions of his reflection as he steps over it. It will never go away.  The scar and the blood stains. It's easy covering it up, cleaning away. No one else knows. All it takes is a swift movement of a wand, a whispered spell. But - you will remember. You won't forget -- can't forget.) Reason: The layers?? I freaking love stuff like that. 

8. Unpublished. Hinny fic. literally the only line I have in this WIP. Thinking it’s in HPB where they started to date? Quidditch practice. Inspired by an art I saw here in Tumblr. 

Line: Harry grins as he catches her eyes from across the field, a burst of warmth  in his chest. Always seeing Ginny made him inexplicably happy. 

Reason: First ever hinny thing that I wrote! Also because I just love writing about Harry being absolutely smitten and in love with Ginny. 

9. Unpublished. A 8.19 deanbenny fic about that part where Dean calls Benny to ask him of a favour. 

Line:    Cut that out now, Benny interrupts You can tell me more when I get to where you are. You don’t sound...so good, brother.

Reason: I can HEAR this in Benny’s voice. Also ahhh, that last part with the eclipses. *Incoherrent noises* Benny’s so concerned about Dean when Dean is the one who’s going to ask Benny to kill himself to go back to Purgatory, a place the he wanted to escape, to get his brother that was hell-bent on killing him. Which seems like a totally Benny thing to do, even if Benny doesn’t know that yet. He’s got some suspicion that *this favour* is not going to be great for him. 

10. Unpublished. That  Heaven Jack & Kelly fic i mentioned when talking about Current WIPs. Aka: me making on that promise of writing fics about them because there’s BARELY any. 

I’m really excited to write this one, i have ideas on what to put in there which are going to be so fun to write. 

This was hard to choose, because I love almost everything I’ve written so far. 

...Damn it. I was supposed to be choosing a line, but apparently I’m writing now. OH. I just fixed a problem I had!! 

Line:  She’s here, not alive, but not dead either like before, cold and laid out on the bed. She’s moving, smiling at him, like—in that video. Except he can reach out and touch her. Feel her warmth, her heartbeat as she envelopes him in a hug. 

Reason: The line I just re-wrote. Okay, i freaking adore it. It really goes for my heart. It’s the first ever time that Jack’s hugged his mom. I AM SO HAPPY FOR HIM. Oh gosh. It’s such a special moment. There’s some parts to here that I want to add and change but I do really love how it is now. Jack’s thought process---FUDGE. Damn it. I had a new thought to add: that moment where he sees the shifter change into his Mom. I forgot about it. 

11. Unpublished. Can’t believe I FORGOT about this one. It’s that SPN Deathfic where Dean carrying Sam’s dead body everwhere with him, that one that I was screaming about on here.

Line:  Woah, woah. He barks out laugh as the body slumps heavy over him and he stumbles. Says, Easy big guy and smiles again, quietly. Fond. Threading a hand in the hair. Sam. Sammy. Holds and breathes for a moment.

Reason: *Incoherrant screaming* I love, love how I wrote this?? Like. Wow. I captured Dean so well?? Just. Mindblown that I wrote this. If...I were to rank these, not that I am, this would deff be in the top half. 

The basis of the fic: Sam’s dead, but Dean doesn’t want to let go; he’s in denial. And this moment. It really captures that. AND ahhhh. DEAN. It’s such a Soft moment but so SAD because Dean, HES DEAD. THATS NOT YOUR BROTHER, STOP MAKING ME WANT TO CRY. Fudge. Sorry, I just have a lot of feelings about this one. Still can’t believe I FORGOT about it. ...Damn, I really want to write and edit this one now. 

12. Unpublished. That klelijah fic I was on about where I Have No Idea What This Is About Except HARD DESCISIONS AND SUFFERING. Lol, it’s the title of the Doc.  Funny thing: This was actually inspired by you. Well, the forhead part I mean. In that fic of yours, the s3 era flashback. "Did his brother not remember? Had he forgotten that bloodstained morning in the forest, the touch of Elijah’s forehead against his? Had he forgotten their hands clasped together, warm and covered in grave dirt? Had he forgotten every day since, with Elijah by his side?" - quoting this here because I love it so much. 

Line:  “Brother,” He says, the word said as if it pains him, and it does, bites heavy into his tongue, draws blood. Nothing he can’t heal. Pulling Niklaus down closer to him, pressing their foreheads together in an echo of a memory, a promise, his hand tight on Niklaus’ neck, he begs. “Don’t make me do this. Please.”

Reason: *Incoherrent noises* tHe LaYErS. Ahhh. I really love this so so much. Okay, so. No idea what this fic is about BUT. Brother: Word pains to say: Niklaus is his brother: draws blood: Nothing he can’t heal: Does forhead thing: “In echo”: Shoot, can’t remember the quotes but the forhead signals like no matter what, they’re brothers: And HOW AFTERWARDS ELIJAH BEGS ‘DONT MAKE ME DO THIS’  THIS WHOLE SEQUENCE. IM. ---- HOLD ON. FUDGE. I JUST CRACKED WHAT HE DOESNT WANT HIM TO DO.  FUDGE. FUDGE. IM SCREAMING. OH MY GOD. *GASP* IT GOESS SO WELL WITH WHAT I WRITTEN BEFORE. FUDGGGE. 

Sorry but FUDGE. I need a moment to sit down and proccess this while SCREAMING BECAUSE HOLY HECK I’M. 

I really want this write this now. WOW. 

Okay, that’s all for my fics. Since you said “works” I thought I’d also talk about my poetry and orginal writing, I never did before and I’m using this time to shamelessly gush about my poetry. :D  If anyone wants to check them out, I do have a side blog on here: drop.of.evanescence BUT also I usually post on https://theprose.com/Yuki where’s there’s so more. 

13. Published! Title: Laying in sorrow It was inspired by a pintrest pic. Line: and here we curl inwards with our backs bare

Reason: I LOVE this one. I freaking love how I worded it. I was thinking about anything when I wrote it but OH that TITLE. It came to me and I just realised that. In sorrow, in pain we curl into ourselves, well. Not everyone, but. Some people do, to hide from the pain and IN DOING SO YOUR BARE IS BARE WHICH IS LIKE YOU’RE VUNREABLE. Sorry, if i’m not making sense btw -- my thoughts are like that, haha. 

14. Published! Title: Where It hurts It was for a challenge on Prose where we had to re-write a piece of this other user, Undermeyou. and her WRITING. Wow, it’s so so so good. Btw, I actually won the challenge, which was awesome. :DD Fudge, re-reading this. I forgot how much I loved it. This one...was hard to choose. It has SO MANY good lines that I’m proud of. 

Line: It was Sunday 15th. The window was open and I remember the cold air on your face. I remember your smile. You red-faced, cheeks hollow as you tried to gobble the stars. 

Reason: ahhhhh, the WAY i wrote it. This whole thing is better as a whole, makes it’s impact and is wayy better when you read the whole thing togather so that’s why it was hard to choose. BUT OH this part. Freaking love it. 

15. Published! Title: Alignment of the stars. Inspired by a prompt: world in your pocket. And also another super hard one. Cool fact: that undermeyou person I was talking about earlier? She made a spoken of this on insta! It was amazing.  Line: Fifteen-years later, you can still feel the laughter of his soul rippling across your chest.

Reason: *incoherrent screaming* THAT ENDING. It gave me chills when I wrote and read it. IT WAS SUCH A GOOD WAY TO END IT. LIKE. WOW. I AM SO PROUD.

16. Published! Title: Untilted. Yes, that’s the title, I know. ANOTHER HARD ONE.

Line:  The sunlight is flooding in and it should be beautiful, how it spreads like honey across my red covers. I choke up. It's so beautiful, it’s terrible. I want to throw up. I reach my left hand out and I am somewhere else far away. In that place: another hand reaches back and tangles with mine and there is warmth and buzzes of bell chimes. Here: only silence and coldness meets my trembling hand. 

Reason: Shbjajxsa. THE DESCRIPTION. HOW I WROTE THIS. *INCOHERENT SCREAMING* it’s SO GOOD. Fudge. 

17. Published! Title: touching the world with bound, trembling hands (baby, you’re unravelling)

Well, it’s not. A line. But A small fic that I did, i’m so proud of it. It’s a small, little short story about a person going up and singing publicly despite their fears and made me smile and laugh. It was a surprise for me and i adore it. And yeah, lol I know, the title is cheesy. 

18. Published! Title: i swear, there’s a lesson here (somewhere) I was pretty stumped with my poetry here and tried a different style! inspired by some tumblr post i saw. it came out really well. ANND ANOTHER HARDD ONE. 

Line:  we’re pressed against the books shadows, dark things in the dark and i’m in love with you but i have never seen your face 

Reason: lol, at this rate I’m going to choosing all of my end lines for all of my poetry. THEY’RE JUST SO GOOD. AHH.  "and i’m in love with you / but i have / never seen your / face" CANT BELIEVE I WROTE THIS. FREAKING LOVE IT. I love the tone and just how it SOUNDS. 

19. Published! Title:  Winter’s smile This one i found lurking in my tags over at evanescentrain inspired by this post but....cant seem to find it right now, damn tumblr. 

Line:  how do you capture forever with your hands?

Reason: Lol, another end line. This is going to be a Thing isn’t it? oH I love this one, such an wow question...it gives me feelings that i can’t explain... just. makes me sit here in silence and think. What a way I ended it. Wow. 

20. I have SO MANY poetry and stuff that I’m proud of and want to babble on about, but.... I’m noticing this is getting really long so. I will this one my last. And since I’ve been talking only about Published ones. I will do a unpublished one!

No title.

Line:  It was a long, very long moment that I felt that he would take his sword to my heart and I would die or he would leave without another word, leave with a piece of me to somewhere where I can not get it back. A piece of myself inside  his hands. It was a terrifying thought.

Reason: ahhh, i really freaking love this. especially that LAST LINE. A bit backstory to what this is about: a person telling some guy about the evil they did, it comes out, randomly, because he says “you’re a good person” to them but they get annoyed, angry, say “you don’t know me” and....it’s like something is cracked open and they spill. First time they told someone their thoughts and what they did, wasn’t actually evil or bad. They just thought that. THIS PART. When I was writing it, it left like an impact on me. 

‘a piece of myself inside his hands. it was a terrifying thought’ DAMN. I FELT THAT. It hit me deeply. 

[let-it-raines]

BotB prompt: After the last chapter, I’m definitely going to need a flashback to when Emma told Killian that she was pregnant. Please and thank you!!

@onceuponaprincessworld: After that prompt in botb I would love to see how Killian has to travel for work to promote a movie and Emma finds out that she is pregnant or already know it and how they deal with the distance in that plan. Thank you!

It’s funny because before I got your prompt @onceuponaprincessworld I already had this prompt written this way, so great minds must think alike😘

AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30

-/-

When Emma wakes up, her neck aches, some of the muscles very obviously pulled, and tentatively, she stretches out a bit, lifting her head off of her pillow and reaching over to her left to feel the cold sheets next to her. It’s a habit, one that she isn’t really fond of, but she does it nearly every morning. It’s almost like she’s forgotten that Killian isn’t home, forgotten that he’s not going to be next to her when she wakes up in the mornings. For at least those first fifteen seconds of waking, the light coming back to her eyes, she thinks that she’s going to see the rise and fall of his chest, the soft smile that graces his lips when he sleeps, the long, dark lashes landing against his cheeks.

But he’s not there.

And she knows she’s being dramatic. She really does. Going into this relationship, she never quite knew what to expect, but once she was in, she was all in. And if being in meant having to be separated from her husband so that he could be happy with his career, she was fine with that. She is fine with that.

It doesn’t mean she doesn’t miss Killian.

He’s her best friend, the person she trusts most in life, and he’s currently in Prague filming. Prague is decidedly not Santa Monica, and she wishes it was.

Two more weeks.

She can wait two more weeks until he’s home for a long, long time, and then she is not letting him out of her sight for, like, a month. She has work. He has obligations. They have friends and family. That’s never going to happen, but she can at least have him all to herself for a weekend. They deserve that.

For all the talking and video chatting they can do, there’s nothing quite like being able to feel the strength and warmth of his arms around her before she goes to bed or in the evenings when they’re cooking dinner and Killian tries to distract her by running his lips across her jaw and coaxing her out of making whatever it is that she’s making…as if she’s the one who makes dinner most often when that’s usually Killian.

So two more weeks.

They can do two more weeks.

After running her hand over the sheets and the comforter one more time, she rolls over to her nightstand to unplug her phone, turning the brightness down, and pressing her thumb down to open up her notifications.

Ruby: What was the nail polish that I let you borrow? I can’t remember the name, and Dorothy wants to use it.

Mary Margaret: Do you have any time off this month? I was thinking about the boys and I coming to visit?

David: lol.

She fires off responses to all of them except for David’s text, not having anything else to add to him laughing at a joke about detectives that she sent him last night while she was wide awake and he was fast asleep. Half of the people she talks to are in different time zones, and it can get the tiniest bit confusing.

Seriously. Killian is nine hours ahead of her.

Killian: Good morning, darling. I hope you slept well. I have a pretty normal filming schedule today, so I’ll call you before I go to bed, yeah? I love you.

Emma: I love you too. I hope you’re having a good day!

Turning some music on her phone and connecting it to the speakers installed throughout the house, she slowly climbs out of bed, her head a bit groggy this morning, and tries to make quick work of taking a shower. But she stays under the warm spray for much longer than she should, letting the water work out the aches in her shoulders and the still tense pinch in her neck. Damn, did she sleep on it wrong. Obviously her bed is not her friend lately, and that’s her favorite place in the world.

Talk about betrayal.

Eventually she turns the water off and gets out of the shower, moving the soft towel over her legs and her body before grabbing another one and wrapping her hair on top of her head. She has absolutely no idea where her robe is, probably in the laundry room somewhere, so she grabs Killian’s off of his hook and wraps it around her, tying it at the waist to combat some of the chill from the air conditioning blowing on full blast. She doesn’t even want to think about their power bill for this month, but honestly, it’s worth it for how warm it’s been this summer.

Seriously. It’s been miserably hot. She misses winter, which is something she never would have said living in Boston.

(She misses Boston too, but this move was the right decision. She doesn’t regret it.)

After brushing her teeth and washing her face, she grabs her phone and walks downstairs, opening the curtains and blinds as she goes to let in some natural light, the sound of the ocean coming through the open back doors that lead out to the deck. She’s not really feeling like eating, but she knows that she needs to. She’ll forget otherwise, and then when she goes to Liam and Elsa’s for dinner tonight, she’ll go through their entire pantry, which is much less acceptable to do than gorging out on her own food. But nothing seems good, the cereal and bagels unappealing, the eggs and anything she has to cook even more so, and the only thing that she will even consider is a grapefruit…which may or may not be rotting.

It’s fine. She’ll go grocery shopping tomorrow…and also pick up all of the clothes and glasses that she has scattered throughout the house. It’s not that messy, something she’s worked on since messes drive Killian crazy, but if she knows her husband at all, he’ll come home, take her to bed, and then wake up to go and clean the house. So obviously she needs to clean up a little bit more, maybe break out a duster.

Dusting is the worst.

This view of the beach, though, is the best.

She and Killian have found that most of their time since they moved back (well, since Killian moved back and she moved for the first time) has been spent out on the covered deck or in their bedroom with the doors leading out to the balcony wide open. The sound of the ocean is a background noise she always wants, so she turns off the music on her phone, the guitars fading from the speakers, and sits on the cushioned swing, slightly swaying back and forth while she sips on her water and watches the shoreline. Their neighbor has her dog running through the water, the golden retriever leaping into the air to catch its toy, and Emma wonders if they should get a pet. She’s not sure how that would work during the times when they’re both gone, but it’d probably be nice to have a dog or a cat around when it’s just her, at least so there’s more noise than the air conditioning and the televisions that she leaves on at night.

But then again, Killian is coming home soon and she’ll have no need to replace him with a cat.

Wait. That sounds weird. She’s not replacing him with a cat, though they probably have the same amount of hair.

Whatever. She’ll think about it and bring it up with Killian sometime soon.

Her phone dings next to her, and she looks down expecting a text back from Killian or Mary Margaret only to see a notification that makes her stop breathing.

Seriously. Her breath hitches, her stomach rolls, and her mind starts running a marathon when she hasn’t gotten the chance to even lace up her sneakers.

You haven’t tracked your period lately! Make sure to update all information so we can monitor your cycles as accurately as possible.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

Holy freaking shit.

(Why did she just censor herself in the middle of a curse?)

While her heart decides to drop to her stomach and beat at what has to be an unhealthy amount of beats per minute, she clumsily attempts to unlock her phone, her thumb not being recognized so that she has to type in her wedding date for her screen to open up to her period tracker app. Her mind is so frazzled that nothing is really clear to her, not even the screen in front of her, and it’s because she’s trying to remember the last time she had her period. Her app says she hasn’t logged it since May, which means she didn’t do that in June or when her period was supposed to start two days ago.

And that’s fine. It really is. Two days is nothing. Two days is barely anything. And so what that she didn’t track anything last month. It’s an app. She forgot. Plus, she very well could have had her period last month without typing it into her phone. That’s possible. Not everything has to be logged into her phone to be real.

But did she have her period?

She honestly can’t remember. And it’s not like she can ask Killian. He hasn’t been here. He’s been thousands of miles away.

Shit.

Killian totally would have noticed, and he definitely can’t help her figure this out. Because she definitely can’t tell Killian that she’s trying to figure out if she missed her period…which means she’s trying to figure out if she’s –

Pregnant.

Well, there’s a word that she didn’t think she’d be thinking for a solid few months, maybe a year. Maybe even two.

Woah.

It’s not that they haven’t talked about it. They have. Killian is very big on talking things out even when she isn’t quite ready. They’ve talked about kids before, talked about the fact that they both want one, maybe two if the first one doesn’t kill them, but then back in March they’d been sitting in bed sharing a bag of chips while watching Stranger Things and Killian brought it up. It made sense. It really did. It’d been a gradually growing conversation, the lead up building, but when her face was stuffed with several salt and vinegar chips, she wasn’t really expecting to have to talk about the reality of what it would be like to have a baby and know that there’s the possibility of her having to raise the baby by herself if Killian is away. And then also how that can impact their future, impact their kid’s future. She knows that Killian wants to work less, or work closer to home more frequently, once they start their family, and that’s something they were talking about.

They were talking about trying when he got home.

It might be a little late for that.

Or early, really. She could be ahead of the game.

When in the world did she miss a pill?

Taking a deep breath, she tries to turn her mind off but can’t. She really is ahead of herself. She has no idea if she’s even pregnant yet, and she needs to take a test. But she most definitely does not want to take a test by herself, does not want to be sitting in the bathroom all alone when she finds out if her jeans aren’t about to fit in a few months (because that’s obviously the most important thing) and have no one know this secret but her, so she needs to shut this thought process down until Killian gets home.

Two weeks.

She can do two weeks.

By the time two o’clock rolls around, she’s spent the entire morning deep cleaning the house, deciding to take her worries and frustrations out on the things she needs to do, and she almost completely forgets that she could have an entire human being inside of her uterus.

(She’s a liar. She definitely doesn’t come anywhere near to forgetting.)

But then her phone rings, Killian’s face popping up on the screen from his contact, and she nearly vomits with nerves over the fact that she’s about to not tell him the reason she’s having a meltdown.

The vomiting thing is probably a sign, which is really a horrible symptom, and there should definitely be some kind of solution to that.

“Hello, beautiful,” Killian sighs, and she can practically feel his smile on the other end of the line, thousands of miles away in a hotel bed that’s not theirs. “How’s your Saturday?”

“It’s good.” That may be a lie. That may be the truth. She has no idea. “I slept in, cleaned a bit. I’m going to go to your brother’s for dinner later.”

“Emma Jones, you cleaned?” he gasps, and she rolls her eyes imagining him sitting shirtless in his room with his hand dramatically thrown over his heart. “Are you dying? Is there something you need to tell me?”

“No,” she blurts out, definitely too quickly before she scrambles to cover that up, “I just knew that if I didn’t clean now, I’d never have it up to your standards by the time you got home.”

“Love, all I care about when I get home is the fact that you’re going to be there.”

“Charmer.”

“Undoubtedly.”

“You’re definitely going to care about how clean the house is.”

“Eh.”

“Babe.”

“Love of my life.”

“Oh my God,” she groans, tossing the wipe she was cleaning the bookshelves with in the bin and walking toward the couch, falling back against the cushions and turning the phone on speaker before placing it on her chest, “you can’t just say things like that.”

“I can’t say the truth?”

“Not when you know you’re going to get me all flustered with it.”

“To be fair, love, you already seemed pretty flustered. You are cleaning, after all.”

“Hey, again. I clean.”

“Debatable.”

“KJ, I can change the locks on the house.”

“There’s always the windows. Hell, I’ll climb the damn balcony.”

She laughs despite herself and reaches down to tug at the robe she’s still wearing, pulling on the string before running her hand over her stomach, almost unconsciously. The words are on the tip of her tongue ready to be spilled, but she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know if she’s right, if the words are true, but the one thing that she does know is that if she tells Killian she thinks she’s pregnant now, he won’t stop worrying about her until his feet step inside of this house.

And there’s still the fact that she doesn’t want to take the test alone.

Pushing it all aside. That’s what she’s going to do.

“You’ll climb the balcony to get to me?” she asks instead, going along with the conversation.

“I’ll climb the balcony to get to my bed. If you happen to be in it, so be it.”

“There you go charming me again.”

“I try.”

She and Killian talk until his words are a little slurred, sleep calling him more than she is, so she tells him goodbye and that she loves him, chanting that two more weeks mantra to him before she, too, falls asleep, waking hours later with pillow marks on her face and her phone flashing five seventeen, a little under an hour until she’s supposed to be at Liam’s.

She hasn’t even put on underwear yet. That’s probably something she should do. They’re family, but there are some things that family does not need to see. Her vagina is one of those.

Her thoughts get weirder every day.

Thirty minutes later she’s dressed in a pair of athletic shorts and a t-shirt, her hair underneath a baseball hat, and letting herself into Elsa’s house after knocking on the door, which is really only a courtesy since Liam tends to barge into their house…still. After one too many times walking in on she and Killian, she really figured he’d learn to wait for them to answer the door.

“Hey,” Elsa calls over her shoulder when Emma walks into the kitchen, “how are you?”

“Um, good,” she mumbles, sitting down at a barstool and tapping her fingers against the countertop, wishing she had something to settle her stomach and all of the unease that she’s going through. Her mind will not calm down, and she really needs to calm down. “How are you?”

“Great. It’s so hot, isn’t it? Liam is outside on the playset with Aiden, and they’re both going to be drenched when they come in. But Aiden insisted, you know?”

“Yeah.”

She taps her fingers again, thinking about Aiden and Liam and the bond that they have. If she and Killian have a son, will they have a bond like Aiden and Liam? Would it even matter if it was a boy? Killian would have a bond with a daughter too. So would she. But there’s something so cute about watching Liam with Aiden even if Aiden is the spitting image of Elsa.

Genetics and all that.

How would that work for her kid?

Her hypothetical kid.

“Emma?”

“Uh huh?”

“You want to stop playing an entire piano concert on my counter and tell me what’s going on in that head of yours?”

“There’s nothing,” she lies, her voice a squeak as she looks up at Elsa and smiles, hoping that it’s a normal smile. “I have nothing on my mind except for how good that pasta smells. And the bread. I love your garlic bread.”

Elsa raises a perfectly groomed brow and flicks her braid over her shoulder, leaning forward and propping her elbows up on the island. “Emma, you can talk to me. You know that, right? You’re kind of going through a lot right now, and you can’t pretend that you’re not. You stay with us too often for me to not know how hard Killian being away is for you.”

“I’m fine.”

Elsa nods her head up and down once, twice, three times before tilting it back to her cabinets. “Do you want something to drink? I bought this new wine that I – ”

“No, I’m good,” she blurts out, completely and totally ready to bury her face in this granite. “I’ve got to drive home, and I really don’t think I want anything to drink.”

“Mmm, okay. Do you want to go to lunch this week? I think there’s this really great sushi place downtown that just opened.”

“Sure. I lo – oh, um, can we get something other than sushi? I think I’m going to give up fish.”

“Why?”

“A new diet or whatever. I’ve gained a few pounds.”

Lie.

They’re all lies.

When did she turn into such a bad liar?

“Ah,” Elsa sighs, resting her chin in the palm of her hand, “I get it. I, too, gained weight when I was pregnant. Though, I don’t think it was when I was as early on as you. Maybe you’re having twins.”

Every word that she knows flees from her brain. Every single one. She’s not sure if it’s the thought of her having twins or if Elsa has caught her in her lies, but honestly, it’s mostly the fact that she was caught that quickly.

Damn.

Elsa really is some kind of magical being who can read she and Killian far too well. It’s creepy and wonderful and terrifying all at once.

And she could most definitely cry right now simply because she is feeling all kinds of overwhelmed.

Emma leans forward to rest her face in her hands on the countertop, the cool marble refreshing. “How did you know?” she mumbles into her skin. “I don’t even know for sure.”

“It was a guess, but the no to wine and no to sushi, two things that you love, were a pretty big clue. Plus, you’re acting like a strung-out maniac.” She feels Elsa’s hand on her back, and when she opens her eyes, she can see that she’s moved to the other side of the counter to sit on the barstool next to her. “Have you taken a test?”

“I just realized I’d missed my period today. And I may have missed last month’s too. But, like, I haven’t been nauseous or anything, so I didn’t think about it. I honestly figured it was stress related.”

Elsa nods her head up and down, a soft smile on her face as she continues to rub Emma’s back. “I have some tests upstairs – no, I am not pregnant, but I had a scare a few weeks ago and bought, like, every test in the CVS I went to. Why don’t you go take one, just so you have a bit more peace of mind about it? And then when Killian comes home, you’ll either have some really great news to share or you can tell him about the time that you peed on a stick in his brother’s house with absolutely no context.”

She huffs, unable to stop herself or the twisting feeling inside of her, before leaning over on the stool and hugging Elsa, wanting all of the comfort and support that she can get since the rest of her support system are scattered across the country.

And the world.

Elsa asks if Emma wants her to come with to take the test, but she says that it’s alright, that she’d kind of like to do this part alone if she can’t have Killian with her. Even opening the box is nerve-wracking, but the worst part is definitely the waiting two minutes to find out if she’s going to be a mom a little bit sooner than she was expecting.

The phrase what to expect when you’re expecting comes to mind, and she feels like that can’t even really encompass everything.

How in the world do people do this every day?

It’s like a mixture of excitement and terror, and the only other place she’s ever felt like this is a rollercoaster.

That’s actually a pretty good metaphor for having a baby.

And according to the positive sign on the test, she is having one.

Wow.

It’s a lot to take in, but over the next two weeks, she becomes more accustomed to the fact. It helps that she makes a doctor’s appointment, gets it confirmed, finds out that her due date is February fifteenth, and that she is definitely not having twins.

She’s been secretly worried about that ever since Elsa made the joke.

That would be…overwhelming.

Mostly, though, as much as she’s gotten used to the idea, gotten excited about the idea, all she’s wanted to do was share it with Killian. And she’s not about to tell him he’s going to be a dad without him being in the same place as her. This is too big of a thing for her not to be able to hug him afterwards.

But he’s in the taxi on the way to the house right now, and she could throw up out of excitement. And the morning sickness that finally hit her, but that’s not what she wants to think about right now.

She’s definitely wearing down a hole into their hardwood from all of her pacing.

Her phone dings with an alert that there’s movement at the gate to the house, and her stomach does this actual swooping thing that should not at all be possible. It very apparently is, though. And while she’s never been a woman to want to run into someone’s arms out of excitement, that’s changed ever since she met Killian. When they were dating and had been apart for awhile, getting to see his face, even if it was for a day, was the greatest day. Now that she’s living apart from her friends, when she gets to go to Boston to see them, she most definitely runs into Ruby’s arms to hug the living daylights out of her. The same with David and Mary Margaret and their kids. And now that Killian’s been gone for months, she pretty much feels like her legs are going to launch her over the fence instead of into his arms.

Who knew it was possible to miss someone this much?

She guesses she did.

Instead of waiting inside like a sane person, she tosses her phone down onto the couch, and quickly walks outside, not even bothering to put shoes on. Her throat closes for a moment when she sees him, her eyes trying to take him in and catalog all of the differences and similarities all at once as he unloads his bags from the back of the car.

“Hey, Jones,” she calls out, running down the steps as he turns around, his hair flipping with the movement.

“Emma,” he laughs, his smile practically taking up his entire face.

God, she missed that smile.

It’s all a blur as she runs forward, her body colliding with his as her arms wrap around his neck and his arms wrap around her shoulders, tugging her closer so that she’s fully pressed against him. He’s solid, just like always, and his heat overwhelms her as she smells the slightest bit of his cologne mixing in with that awful airplane smell that seems to happen whenever anyone so much as steps into an airport.

He’s home.

“I missed you, Swan,” he murmurs into her ear, rubbing his hand up and down her back as he starts trailing his lips along her jawline, electric sparks spreading across every nerve ending that she has, some of them probably twice.

“I missed you, KJ.” She pulls back to look at him, her hands moving up his neck to cup his cheeks, thumbs tracing over his scruff and his freckles and everything as she looks at the blue eyes that she loves so much but has only been able to see through a video screen. And then she presses up on her toes and kisses him, kisses him like a woman who hasn’t been able to kiss her husband in months, a woman starved of the love and compassion that she’s been without for far too long. It’s all like coming to that safe comfort of home, which is perfect since he’s back and everything is in its right place.

“Hey, man, I need you to get your bags so I can go,” the taxi driver calls out at them, the displeasure in his voice obvious, and she and Killian break apart with blush on both of their cheeks.

“Sorry about that,” Killian grumbles, very obviously not too sorry about it, before he turns around to grab his backpack out of the backseat, handing the driver some cash, and closing the trunk before he drives off. “I don’t think that man liked watching you make out with me, Swan.”

“What’s not to like about it?”

“Exactly,” he winks, grabbing her hips and pulling her closer so that he can softly glide his lips over hers, his tongue quickly licking into her mouth in a burst of heat and pleasure before he’s retreating. “Darling, will you grab the black bag? I have no idea how I managed to pack so much stuff.”

“Sounds like a plan, Stan.”

Killian reaches forward and slaps her ass, making her jump. “I missed that idiotic phrase.”

“As you should have.”

She picks up the black bag off the ground as Killian takes his others, the two of them carry them to the front door and placing them inside before Killian closes the front door and pushes her against it, her back hitting the wood as his hand snakes up underneath her shirt, warm flesh against her skin, and his lips start working at her neck, vibrations trembling down her spine.

“I have thought of you every day.” He punctuates each word with a kiss or a teasing of her skin with teeth, and she nearly melts right then and there at the deep rumble of his accent. “I’m not sure if I’m ever going to be able to do something like that again.”

“I love you,” she gasps out as his hand starts to fumble with the waistband of her leggings, yanking them down as heat curls between her thighs. But it’s then that she remembers that she has something kind of big to tell him. How could she possibly forget? “Wait, wait. Killian, wait.”

He pulls back, his head retreating into his neck as his brows raise and his eyes scan her face, typical Killian 101 trying to figure out what exactly is going on with her even as his hands still run across her stomach, itching to go beneath her leggings once more.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“Nothing, nothing,” she promises, swiping her thumb across the apple of his cheek as her stomach does that twisting thing again. She needs it to stop. “It’s just that, well, I’m pregnant.”

It’s not the smoothest way to tell her husband that they’re going to be parents, but when has she even been smooth and graceful and perfect with her words? Never. He blinks a few times, his lashes landing against his cheeks, and when his lips part, she expects some kind of word, but it’s really more of a…squawk? Is that the right word? She has no idea.

“KJ?”

He blinks once more before leaning forward to press his forehead against hers, his nose pressing into her cheek and his lips lightly brushing over hers as he speaks. “You’re pregnant? We’re having a baby?”

“I mean, technically I am the one having a baby, but you helped us get there.”

“Thank goodness I’m the father. I was unsure for a minute.”

“Shut up, you idiot,” she laughs, shoving at his chest to move him away only for him to pull her closer.

“I may be an idiot, but I’m the father of your baby. You can’t change that.”

“This is not how you were supposed to react.”

“How was I supposed to react?”

“I don’t know. With affection or something?”

“Me teasing you about the paternity of our baby isn’t affection?”

“Eh, maybe.”

“If it’s a boy, we should name it Stan.”

She barks out a laugh, her head falling backwards, and everything in her life rights itself. Killian is home, he’s teasing her, and he’s so unbelievably happy that her stomach finally settles.

This is perfect.

“I am not doing that.”

“I was kidding,” he teases, pressing his lips against hers once, twice, three times.

“Were you though?”

“Possibly.” He fumbles around under her shirt until he’s pulling his hand out and grabbing onto her left wrist, brushing his lips on her wrist dot in the way that she’s missed, the romantic fool. “I love you, and this is by far the best welcome home I’ve ever received.”

“I know. I’ll probably never be able to live up to it.”

“You can always try.”

“Eh, too much effort.”

Killian chuckles before kissing her wrist again, holding it to his lips as his eyes close and a soft smile forms on his face. “My love, I will always be happy to see you, both of you.”

-/-

@ultraluckycatnd @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @wellhellotragic @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @branlovesouat @dreadpirateemma @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog  @andiirivera   @superchocovian @cs-forlife @qualitycoffeethings  @notoriouscs @mariakov81  @jonirobinson64  @ultimiflos @idristardis @galaxyzxstark @thejollyroger-writer @lifeinahole27 @bmbbcs4evr

[livin-in-mementos]

After Some Time (...and a break or two)

Ugh... okay, its here. The big one. Let me preface this by saying I wont be doing a count by count story of what happened, it’s too many hour and headaches that I don’t need to be fair. But I said I’d get to it... and boy howdy has it been swirling in my head since.

The Slazo Situation Revisited

 So small backstory for those who haven’t boarded this crazy train of bullshit and migraines, this story is about a fairly large commentary youtuber by the name of Slazo (Or Micheal) who was caught in a controversy when his ‘Ex-Girlfriend’ exposed him in a Twitlonger for being a manipulative, sexual harasser. DM’s and screenshots of chat logs were shown and it made Slazo look pretty scummy. A few days later Slazo releases his defence video outlining the parts that were true and a lot of points that were fabricated to make him look evil in the eyes of the internet, with added proof and conveniently missing parts of his exes proof that would have exonerated him on the spot in the eyes of the internet courtroom. For opinions sake, yes I do think Slazo is innocent of the more damning accusations that were put against him, no I do not think he was 100% innocent. Of what he was guilty of? maybe being a pretty shitty boyfriend.... though at the age of 15-16... its slap on the back of the head material... not cancellation worthy.

Slazo was pretty much cleared of it all and everybody went on with their day... heck it shouldn’t even be called the Slazo situation, because while his name was brought up a lot, he wasn’t really all that key to what happened next... 

Commentary youtubers from all corners of the internet had an opinion on what Slazo had done and how guilty he was (again, I will not be doing a play by play of every accusation) which boiled down to two camps

1. “Slazo is guilty and here is why... Oh and have a bunch of off-cuff situations I witnessed where Slazo was really creepy that I only just now remember and want to bring up.”

2. “Lotta commentary youtubers being liars, snakes or hypocrites up in here.”

Which in turn brought two youtubers under the microscope themselves, ImAlexx and Hyojin.

Alex first as it’s easier and is the least weird of the two. Alex jumped on the Slazo hate bandwagon pretty quickly and started accusing Slazo of a bunch of things that couldn’t easily be proven, while also completely backing up the story that Chey (the ex) has given in her Twitlonger, despite the fact it had been blown open with so many holes that not even a brain dead goldfish could find logic in it. Alex would later admit he had a part in writing the Twitlonger, as did many other prominent commentary youtubers and friends,outing the Twitlonger as more of a team effort rather than just Chey writing it herself.

After this Alex was accused of a bunch of stuff himself including being a social climber to get more popular since he was a pretty good friend to Slazo before all of this happened, as well as a snake since he supported Chey and the Twitlonger until it was criticised as untrue.... and Alex said the same to cover for himself.

To this day there hasn’t been a clear end point to this, Alex has tried to brush away from it all and has taken the bumps of being called controversial, hoping for it to all die down eventually. (While writing this Alex appeared on the Happy Hour Podcast to give a rundown of the situation to the hosts who admitted they knew nothing of the situation. What’s worse Alex seems to have glazed over many of his own wrongdoings that only escalated the drama further.) Opinion? To be honest, I don’t know... Alex obviously tried to ride the controversy to boost himself, that much is sure, yet when it came back to bite him he tried to hide and wait for it to blow over. It’s sad, It IS snakeworthy and since a proper apology hasn’t been issued... it’s not a good look for him at all.

Hyojin to me was the worst of the two to me. While she didn’t say as much publicly, it was was was happening behind the scenes that just frustrated me.

(Be aware, if you like Hyojin and think she can do no wrong, DO NOT READ PAST THIS POINT. A lot of hot-takes will be thrown out there and a lot of criticism will be put out there too. I WILL be talking about the aftermath at length which is where the support poured in for Hyojin. I will being ripping that apart just as much, if not more for the bullshit that it was.)

Hyojin sucks, and I mean she really sucks. A lot of what was thrown out about Slazo in the Twitlonger allegedly was orchestrated and was the idea of Hyojin herself, taking what Chey was saying and embellishing it with the rest of their friend group. It’s alleged however and won’t be part of the criticism thrown at her.

While the incident was being investigated, Hyojin was too, including her colourful hot takes on Slazo and how creepy he was. Hyojin would never publicly call out Slazo since at the time, anybody who did was getting rinsed by the internet very quickly. So instead she hid on her discord and talked in DM’s about destroying Slazo’s career so he would never recover and deleting messages that challenged how Chey publicly omitted any evidence that made Slazo look like less of a monster. Shady.

During the internet investigations, it was discovered that Hyojin had an old art Twitter where her fictional character was drawn fucking her friends in several positions. The problem was, several of these friends were underage and despite her defence that none of these friends minded.... it was still there for public viewing as was still wrong. One instance even had another youtuber by the name of Kavos in one of these pictures even though he was never asked, nor gave his permission. The irony of all this being that much of what Hyojin criticised Slazo for, she was guilty of herself. Creepy.

Here’s where it gets controversial... probably more for me. Dog dropping rumours aside. (trust me, it was stupid)

Hyojin was getting major flak for everything that was found out about her and it seemed to get too much for her, which is understandable. Her response to all of this was a tweet telling everyone she was going to kill herself. The public response actually became something that confused me, because in the blink of an eye everyone retracted their criticisms and gave out well wishes instead. To make the trend even more sympathetic the youtubers involved in writing the Twitlonger started urging people to give her space and lay off on the nasty comments.

I for one, did not care. Heartless of me? Maybe. But it was all backed up by reasoning. Here was a girl ready to throw the life of a person under the bus for being a slightly shitty boyfriend and lying to make it sound worse. Helping to write up a statement that grossly exaggerated things to such a degree that Slazo was the most hated person on the internet and was blasted by everyone left, right and centre. After he proved to everyone he wasn’t like that, the attention turned on Chey and the friends that helped her and when their dirty laundry was put out there and they were being criticised.... now it was unacceptable? Now it was too much?

YOU TRIED TO OUT A GUY FOR BEING A SEX PEST! Shit that will follow him for life. But people calling out racist remarks you made? the underage porn you had drawn? The toxic behaviour you exhibited to anyone who questioned you?

....yeah that was too much and the line had to be drawn right?

But hey, it’s okay, you can just back to twitter the second the drama blows over and everything is all good now right?

Now this is where I direct it to the people who think that Hyojin is infallible, that she can do no wrong. She messed up bad, real bad. If anything she’s the true villain behind all of this and it’s shocking the lengths people were going to just to defend her. If every racist, abuser or sex pest threatened their life to be let off, this world would be screwed, but the second a darling Tumblr artist with links to popular youtubers does it, it’s a crime to list the irony that she attempted to cancel a guy with far worse repercussions that would lead to life long damage.

The worst part of all of this was that an apology would have cleared all of this. They knew they were wrong but an apology was impossible for them, so instead it’s made bigger, uglier and dirty laundry is shown. If anything, I’m happy it got to where it did since it showed the ugly side of Hyojin for everyone to see. So my opinion of Hyojin?

Fuck Hyojin.

[artificialqueens]

After all this time? Always. - Miss_VanessaVanjie

Oh, hi, hello, good evening! I couldn't stop thinking about this idea so I had to write it! (I swear I'm working on the next chapter of Scandal, I swear.)

I can't thank hy_jinkx enough for being such an amazing person and an incredible beta! I wouldn't be able to do it without her and I'm forever grateful for it. Like I always say: I don't deserve you loll ❤

Oh, I almost forgot! I'm taking prompts and any ideas you guys have about this "verse" or even scandal! You can find me as hi-yekaterina on Tumblr! ❤

I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1 - Two ghosts

He couldn’t bring himself to stop staring.

Jose was an amazing performer and he knew that, having seen him perform countless times, but this show was different. Just like his mother always said to him when they went shopping, he could look but couldn’t touch.

Jose wasn’t his anymore. And Brock was okay with that, he really was.

It was just difficult to remember he was okay with not having him anymore when they were like this. In the same space, breathing the same air.

Somehow, Steve had convinced him to come to Vanjie’s last show at Werq the World in Chicago. Not that this had taken Steve a lot of effort. Brock wasn’t blind. He had seen the posts about Jose’s performance, the videos of him dancing.

The videos of his and Kameron’s interactions. But that part he was pretending not to see. He knew well how wild the fans can get, and there probably wasn’t anything but friendship.

And that was why he was there that night, in the 5th row right in the middle. He needed to be noticed, needed him to see he was there. That he still cared.

They were still friends, of course. But Brock wasn't truly a part of Jose's life anymore. He wasn’t the first person he texted in the morning, or the first one to know what he was doing. Fuck, he didn’t even knew about the Fenty Beauty show until he saw him in the after party he went to with Cara.

They didn’t talk there. Jose was busy flirting with other guys, not doing much, other than nodding his head and smiling politely when he saw Brock. It wasn't until the next day that he saw the photobombing, and... yeah, Brock was mad.

But he wasn’t jealous. He wasn’t.

So why did this still hurt like a motherfucker? Why did not knowing Jose was there still bother him so much?

Brock was brought back to reality when he heard Asia say, “I think you should introduce the next queen Kam. Cause, well... you two are pretty close, aren’t you?”

Brock saw the little smile Kameron was giving and he knew who the next queen was. He was used to this tone Asia was using with Kameron, because he used to be close to the same queen. Damn, he used to love her.

Used to?

“Shut up Asia,” Kameron said between giggles. “The next queen is leaving the tour today too, just like me. She’s the most hard working person I know, the loudest, biggest smart mouth and the person with the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen, make some noise for Vanessa Vanjie Mateo!”

Brock was there, but his mind made everything seem like a movie, like he was living in slow motion. He saw the big simile Kameron gave to the audience, the way Asia cackled, heard the crowd scream Vanessa’s name. But he couldn’t focus on anything but what Kameron said. Couldn’t think about anything else other than what it could possibly mean.

And then Vanessa was on the stage.The crowd went insane, as always. They loved him, always had and probably always would. Damn, sometimes Brock forget how good Jose looked in drag, how pretty his new mug was, how good his outfits were.

Sometimes Brock forgot that Jose wasn’t his anymore.

Then Vanessa was hugging Kameron, just like she used to do to Brock himself. Kameron was laying his head on top of Vanessa’s, and Brock couldn’t help but feel nostalgic. He knows that feeling. Knows how tight Vanessa’s arms used to be around his waist, or how they used to hold hands before going on stage.

Knows how Vanessa would always watch him perform and how he would always do the same. How after the show Vanessa would always say how good he was, how he’s the best performer she had ever seen and Brock would always think how wrong she was. Because not even once in his life had Brock seen someone perform with the same passion Jose had. Had never seen someone else with so much love for his job. Brock had never met someone like him before. Had never loved someone like him before.

Had never lost someone like him before.

“Brock?” He heard Steve before being able to look him properly. “Everything okay?”

“Great. I’m great,” he said. “Are we’re going backstage to talk to the girls?”

“Actually no, they’re going to an afterparty. Jason asked if we wanted to come.”

“Oh sure, of course. I, um... Jose is coming?”

He saw the way Steve reacted to his question. Saw the way he looked at him, saw the understanding and the pity. Steve knew Brock better than himself and Brock was aware of that. There’s no point in lying to him, to pretend he didn’t see right through him. To pretend he didn’t know how Jose makes him feel after one year.

“So we’re calling him by his name now? Wow,” Steve joked. “Yeah, he’s coming.”

And that was all Brock needed to know.

******

This was probably one of the worst nights out that Brock had ever had.

It wasn't like something bad had happened. If he was being totally honest, nothing had happened at all. And that was the problem.

They were in the same city, in the same place at the same time and that used to be enough.

But all of a sudden it wasn't.

Usually in situations like this, Jose would be all over him, his body pressed against Brock's, lips attached to his ears saying how much he had missed him.

But not that night. No.

Brock didn't go backstage after the show, he couldn't. Not without Steve's judgemental look, or without possibly seeing something he wasn't prepared for.

So he went to the club. He waited.

He almost started to think Jose wasn't going to come, almost thought Steve lied to him.

And then the door flew open and Brock saw him. And it wasn't fair.

Wasn't fair how fucking good he looked, how his fucking shorts made him look even skinnier, or how confidently he carried himself through the room, almost like he owned it, like he owned every single person there.

It wasn't fair how much Brock missed him.

Brock waited for him to come closer, to make some move to at least recognize Brock's existence. But nothing came. Brock wasn't the first person he looked for in the club anymore.

And that didn't hurt him. Didn't hurt him at all. And that was what he kept telling himself, repeating over and over that it didn't hurt, despite his stomach sinking, or the way his heart ached. Because it didn't hurt. It shouldn't.

He watched from the corner as Jose talked with everyone. Everyone but him. Saw him playing around and acting a fool with the dancers, shouting and laughing with Kameron and the other queens. Being happy.

If you asked Brock, he probably would have said that it took almost a decade for Jose to come any closer to him. But it could possibly have been just a minute. He couldn’t be precise in that moment. He was biased.

But Jose finally came closer to where Brock and Plastique were talking. He looked so beautiful that Brock couldn't take his eyes off of him.

"I didn't know you were coming," was the first thing he said. Jose didn't look pissed, he looked curious almost confused.

They looked at each other for a couple of seconds, that if Brock was being honest felt like hours, before he closed the gap and pulled Jose into a hug.

And God, he missed him so fucking much.

"I'm taking a break so I thought about coming to see yo- to see the show," was all Brock managed to say, still holding him.

"I hope you enjoyed it," Jose said, ending the hug. Brock had never felt more empty. "I have to go now, Kamy is waiting for me on the dance floor. We gonna make them eat it!"

And he left.

All throughout the night Brock couldn't bring himself to stop staring, to stop feeling the dizziness in his stomach. Couldn't bring himself to stop feeling jealous.

Sometimes he forgot Jose wasn't his anymore.

Jose seemed fine. Happy. He was acting really cool, dancing, grinding on Kameron. Drinking, taking pictures, smiling and whispering who knows what in Kameron's ears. Brock knew those signs.

Brock knew how Jose acted when he started to feel some type of way - he couldn’t say “fall in love,” he just couldn’t - with somebody. He saw it happen with him, rewatched it almost one year later. He knew the signs.

And that was why it hurt even more. Because he knew, and this time, those signs had nothing to do with him.

He wasn’t the person Jose direct his flirting tones toward, nor his big dazzling smile. He wasn’t the person responsible for that face he always made when he wants a kiss or a hug. He wasn’t Jose's anymore.

And Brock wasn't used to it.

Sure he was "dating" now - if you could call regularly sleeping with the same person dating. He was a nice guy, love animals, was calm and predictable. Brock wasn't going to wake up and find out he got a fucking tattoo on his chest because he was drunk and really loved cats. He was a safe option.

But Brock missed the craziness. Missed the way he never knew what was going to leave Jose's mouth, never knew what he was going to do next.

But most importantly, he missed Jose.

The Jose only Brock got to know. The soft version that always said I love you before ending a call because "you're old imagine if one day you wake up and forget who am I like that fucking movie, I'm just preparing myself."

The one who knew Brock's favorite type of food, knew his fears, his dreams. Knew how Brock's anxiety got the best of him sometimes.

He missed the little things too. Like how well their hands fit together. How tiny Jose was and how he hated when somebody mentioned that, but would blush every time Brock called him “my tiny toes.”

Brock missed Jose more than he was proud to admit. And that was why he was following Jose's every move, was watching everything he did.

And that was why he was going to the bathroom now. Because he needed to talk to him. Needed to explain.

When he opened the door, he saw Jose standing there, back to the mirror. Almost as if he was waiting for him.

And Brock thought that he probably was.

"What the fuck are you doing, Brock?" Was the first thing Jose said, and Brock thought that getting shot would probably hurt less.

"What do you mean? I just went to the bathroom." Brock forced a smile.

"You fucking know what I mean. Coming here, watching the fucking show like it's nothing. Like we didn't talk to each other since that shit show that was the Branjie show." Jose almost shouts, and Brock was almost happy, because that was the closest he came from feeling like he still cared, like the Jose he used to know was still there.

"And like it wasn't enough, so you come to the after party, looking at me all the time like I personally kicked Apollo and Henry," Jose said. "What are you doing here? For real this time."

"I don't know, okay? I just really wanted to see you. I miss you, J. I fucking miss you. And seeing you flirting with Kameron fucking pissed me off." It was Brock's turn to shout. "How can you do this? Acting like that in front of everybody? In front of me! That fucking hurts me."

Jose looked at Brock like he had grown a second head or something, like what he just said didn't make any sense to him.

Like Brock was a stranger.

"I'm not your boyfriend, ya know? I'm not a tall Canadian zoo guy or the fuck he does for a living," Jose finally spoke, "I'm the one you kicked after my birthday. The one you said on national television wasn't enough, that I made you feel tied down, the one that scared you and that made you realize you had 'commitment issues'. So you for sure shouldn't care about who I kiss, or who I flirt with. You never did, why start now?"

And then he walked away.

Bock wanted to say something. Anything. Tell him that he was wrong, that he was enough, more than enough. He was everything Brock thought he would never have and everything he thought he didn't deserve.

He wanted to say something. Shout, cry, beg for forgiveness. But for the first time he didn't know what to say. Didn't know how to make him stay, because all throughout Brock’s life, Brock was the one that walked away, the one that ended things. He had never had to do this before, had never felt so lonely and hopeless.

He had never lost someone like Jose before.

Ao3 link

[mianix]

"Mine" ~ A Gift Fic for LukeLemon-Art

I have been among the DBH community for a few months now and the one thing I love most about it is how supportive everyone seems to be. It doesn’t matter if you are an artist, writer, animator, video editor, cosplayer etc. You are welcomed here with open arms and encouraged to do your very best.

The best example of this I can give is @lukelemon-art. I have watched them encourage people of all mediums and fandoms to do well. I’ve experienced their fun nature and their generosity myself when they reblogged my friend @bunnylove56’s Reed900 fic when they weren’t sure anyone would like it. They gave her the confidence to keep going and I adore Luke for conspiring with me to get her to keep going. I never expected it and it only proves my point further.

The above artwork was recently done by Luke with an amazing backstory of Connor, discarding his LED and Gavin chooses to keep it, worn by a leather strap around his neck. Not only did this warm my heart, but inspired me to write my first Convin story as a gift to Luke for all their kindness, not just to me, but the community. Their art makes me happy, as I imagine it does a lot of you. So here’s me supporting their art and repaying them for too many kindnesses to count. 

Note: This gift fic is rated M and contains a big old lemon…lol Because of Tumblr’s new rules and to be safe, the preview will end with a link to finish the story on AO3 instead of the typical cut to read the entire thing on my blog. So if you aren’t into reading something a bit smutty, go back now, gentle reader.

———-

Connor wondered, honestly, what frustrated him more: the idea of Detective Reed disobeying Hank’s direct orders, or the fact that Connor had made a deal with him to get them to this point.

He had been trying diligently over the past year to find ways of endearing himself to the bitter Detective, but nothing he did seemed to quell the man’s hatred for him. No amount of help, kind gestures, or careful consideration had changed a thing between them.

They fought constantly on the job and it had shown its own wear on Connor over time. He recalled how, in a fit of frustration, he had pulled off his own LED and tossed it at the Detective’s feet.

“THERE! Since it bothers you so much! Now you can stop complaining about it and actually get some work done. Oh, wait. That’s right! I mean sit on your damn phone instead of actually helping us for once!”

Everyone had looked shocked to see such anger come from him, but they often forgot he was no longer a thing who took orders. It had all just boiled over and he couldn’t take it anymore. A part of him felt guilt at the look that crossed Reed’s face, but he walked away before he could worry on it too much. In that moment, he felt justified, but later he regretted it.

If for nothing else, he had taken pride in wearing his LED once he’d deviated to remind him of their struggle and to never be ashamed of who he was. Because it made him into the man he was now, who had friends, family and a life that was entirely his own.

This, naturally, was how he found himself helping assist Detective Reed into his apartment.

“Last door, on the left.” Gavin groaned as he stumbled a bit.

They’d been in a scuffle only an hour before, all thanks to Detective Yells-Too-Much. Hank, in some disturbing thought to force them to into being civil, had downright ordered them to work together.

“Frankly, everyone is getting tired of listening to you two argue all the time. It’s not productive and seriously hurts office morale. We’re fucking homicide. We see gruesome death and tragedy on the daily and somehow you two bitching every day is making it even worse.” Hank had said, frustrated when the two had yet another blow up.

“What about Nines?” Gavin had asked. It seemed the further from friendly he got from Connor, the more he stopped harassing the RK900 model. He’d actually started working with him, to Connor’s surprise.

“We’re swapping partners for the week. Nines will work with me and you two need to learn to work together. Fowler’s down my neck about this and if you two can’t work this out there’s the possibility of reassignment to a different department.”

That had gotten a reaction, from both of them. Because it would likely be one or the other, which meant Connor would have to leave Hank or Gavin would be losing his position in his preferred field. Neither of these were an option.

Connor moved to the door, pressing Reed to the wall to help him stand better.

“Keys?” Connor asked.

“Pocket.” Gavin replied with a twinge of pain. They’d been staking out a warehouse, helping out the drug division on a red ice case, but couldn’t seem to not fight. They were completely hopeless being stuck in the confines of Gavin’s car and their inability to ignore one another got them caught.

They were set upon by some low level lackey’s who luckily were too stupid to be properly armed. Connor had sustained some damage to his arm, but had come out holding his own. Reed, on the other hand, had not. A quick glance at the wound on his abdomen told Connor the glass bottle had cut Gavin as he tried to dodge it. He would be okay, but he would need stitches and proper medical care.

“Fuck that. I don’t have the money to pay for an ER visit. I’ll just do it myself, like always.” Gavin had said with labored breathing as Connor drove them away from the warehouse, the sound of gunfire finally breaking the air as more lackeys came to their friends’ aid. It was fight or flight for Connor and at seeing his human companion bleeding and exhausted, he chose to live and fight another day.

“What do you mean like always?” Connor asked incredulously. It was purely rhetorical though as he didn’t need to consider it much to know Gavin Reed refused to go to the hospital unless he was taken there by force… or unconscious. Connor considered that as a valid option, but cast it aside at the thought of the assault charges that might accompany it when Gavin gained consciousness.

But Reed was stubborn and finally they’d come to a compromise: Gavin would allow Connor to do it for him. He could locate the proper programs to accomplish the task of patching Reed up. If he could not get him proper medical help, then this was the next best option.

Connor stared at the Detective, whose free arm hung a bit limply at his side. Blood could be seen staining his shirt there, as well. Wonderful. Without much thought, Connor plunged his hand down into the Detective’s jean pocket to feel around for keys. He felt Gavin stiffen at his shoulder.

“Fuckin’ careful, dipshit. You’re grabbing my keys, not playing pocket pool.” Gavin bit out between clenched teeth. Connor ignored him and pulled the keys out, setting about the task of opening the door. Once he did, he heard a loud mewling getting closer.

The small, furry head of a cat peeked through the crack of the door, it’s tiny paw pulling at it to further open it.

“Don’t let him out. He’s a fucking escape artist.” Gavin groaned as he pushed the door in and pressed the cat inside. Connor followed behind him, closing the door and entering into Gavin Reed’s apartment for the first time.

Gavin went directly for his cabinets as the first room they entered was the kitchen. Off to the right was an open archway into what Connor considered was the living room. He didn’t have much time to consider it though as he watched Reed pulling out more medical supplies then he figured most humans would keep in their homes.

“How often do you get injured on the job?” Connor asked at the fully stocked cabinet of disinfectants, gauze, bandages and other medical supplies.

“Enough to be prepared.” Gavin replied as he opened a drawer to his left and pulled out a partially full bottle of whiskey and a small, unmarked kit. Connor eyed him for a moment, but decided it wasn’t worth the headache.

Gavin sat on the counter with some difficulty and Connor had no choice but to help him, as his arm was of no real use. Once there, Gavin opened the whiskey bottle with his teeth and took a deep dram of the amber liquid. Connor immediately took hold of the bottle and pulled it away.

“What the fuck, Connor? You gonna make me go through this stone cold sober?” Gavin asked bitterly.

“You’re the one who refused to go to the hospital, where they could ease the pain you’re about to feel. You have no room to complain and I need you lucid.” Connor said simply. Perhaps a small part of him enjoyed mocking Reed, but he tried not to think on it too much.

Connor turned to look at the supplies he was given and felt his eyes flutter as he downloaded the necessary program to properly sew stitches. He considered asking how Gavin also had access to the items required to do this, but was certain he’d probably either not get a response or would get a bullshit one.

Connor lifted the hem of Gavin’s shirt, glancing to assess the damage, but knowing full well his first instinct was correct. He did his best to clean the wound, having Gavin hold his shirt up so he could work. Connor noticed he was in pain, but he gritted his teeth against it.

“Since we have some quiet time, are you ready to tell me why you hate me so much?” Connor asked, figuring anything that distracted Gavin would be better than letting the man suffer.

“Because you’re a brown nosing cunt who - FUCK! The hell Connor?” Gavin roared when Connor threw caution to the wind and straight up applied the chemical cleanser without care to the wound.

“Sorry. My hand slipped.” Connor replied stiffly as he grabbed another piece of cloth and tried to be more gentle. Gavin glared at him, still tensing for the pain he no doubt anticipated, but Connor was content with letting the snide remark go.

“What do you care whether or not I like you anyway? We’re not partners, so why the hell should you give a damn?” Gavin asked, choosing his wording more carefully this time as Connor dabbed around the edge of his cut.

“I’ve only been trying to figure it out since day one. You’d think I personally wronged you in some way.”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m an asshole to all androids.” Gavin replied. Connor’s eyes lifted and he noted Gavin had been watching him, but the moment their eyes met he quickly looked away.

“That’s not true, actually. What about Nines? You show him more regard than you ever have for me.” Connor said pointedly, not faltering in his look. Something passed over Gavin’s face, it was minute, but it was there. A moment of panic, then recovery.

“Nines does as he’s told. He doesn’t get in my way or stop me from doing my job.” Gavin replied and his eyes came back to Connor, side glancing him, then looking down to where the small cat was perched on the floor, watching them. It moved gracefully, wiggling its tiny behind before it jumped on the counter beside Gavin and stepped on his thigh. Gavin opted to focus there.

“Nines also is still an android. It’s very simple Detective. I. AM. ALIVE. I’m not a piece of furniture for you to do with as you please and until you learn this, it will be the primary cause of our arguments.” Connor said in quick succession. How many times must they have this conversation, re-worded in so many different ways?

“I’m in fucking pain here. Can’t you give me a break, just once?” Gavin asked and Connor noted his voice sounded weary. The cat at his thigh pressed its face into Gavin’s palm and he gave it such a momentary look of tenderness that It shocked Connor. Then it walked further up Reed’s leg, jumped effortlessly onto his shoulder and stood there.

“That’s not really sanitary for what we’re doing Reed.” Connor began, but found himself intrigued by how the cat walked behind Gavin’s head and laid itself around his neck and shoulders so casually. Its foot disturbed the leather strap that usually hung around the Detective’s neck, dipping down into his shirt. Connor had always wondered what that was, but opted to not pry.

“The cat stays. He’s more of a comfort than you are.” Gavin said, but it wasn’t as mean spirited as it might’ve normally been, because the cat was rubbing its face against the stubble on his chin. Connor just watched, forgetting himself momentarily. Who the hell is this and what did he do with Gavin Reed?

When Gavin’s eyes came back to Connor he seemed to remember himself and that look of indifference came back. It broke the momentary spell and Connor continued working.

Silence hung between them as he worked, except for the purring of the cat on Gavin’s shoulders and the occasional groan or gasp of pain from him as Connor used skilled hands to suture up the cut. He preferred the silence, not remembering a time when the two of them had been so close and not blowing up into a full argument.

He wasn’t sure why this gentler side of the Detective intrigued him. He did not even know he had a pet and never would’ve guessed he could be affectionate with anything. But as long as Connor pretended not to notice, Gavin lavished the animal with attention. Had he ever seen the Detective smile where it didn’t feel like he was baring his teeth as a threat? No, not around Connor. In the pain, he sought comfort in the animal and it seemed to sense his need of it. It never left his shoulders, nuzzling and pawing at the man the more his discomfort seemed to peak.

When he was done with his side, Connor moved to roll up the sleeve on Gavin’s shirt. This wound was superficial in comparison to the other and needed nothing more than a bandage. He stepped into Gavin, the Detective’s knee brushing the inside of Connor’s thigh. Gavin jumped, startling the cat, but did not remove it.

“Careful.” Gavin said in a low tone. Connor tilted his head, trying to figure out what exactly had set the Detective off. Gavin moved his knee, unable to meet Connor’s eyes and with a slight blush filling his cheeks.

“You do realize I have no genitalia to injure, correct?” Connor said innocently enough, but Gavin’s face went a bright shade of red almost instantly at his words.

“Why the fuck would you tell me that?” Gavin asked, obviously startled by this admission.

“You feared hurting me, didn’t you?” Connor asked in reply.

“That is so fucking weird.” Gavin continued with a groan as he covered his face with his one free hand.

“I’m a prototype, Detective. What use would I have for - “

“STOP talking. Please? Just, stop.” Gavin begged, still not looking at him. Silence hung between them, awkward to say the very least. Then Reed broke the silence. “Your arm. It’s injured.”

Connor looked down to observe the blue blood soaking through his jacket arm. He pulled his arm out of it and found his white dress shirt was covered in blue as well. Connor shrugged his jacket off, laying it neatly over the kitchen chair. When he turned back, Gavin was moving tenderly off the counter.

“Wait.” Connor called out as he went to help the man down. Reed waved his hands away, the cat still laying around his neck like a scarf. It yawned, unbothered, and Connor wondered if this was a natural thing for these two with how contented it was soaking up the Detective’s warmth.

“Get on the counter.” Reed said suddenly as he reached for the small, unmarked kit he’d had hiding with the whiskey bottle. Connor eyed it curiously, but when Reed turned and noticed him not moving he added, “Get a move on.”

“I’ll be fine. Once I’m back at the office I can use one of the android repair kits to patch up my arm. You needn’t worry.”

“What the hell do you think this is?” Reed asked as he opened the small container. To Connor’s surprise, it was an android repair kit. A crudely put together one, yes, but still exactly what was needed for superficial wounds like what Connor had. He stared at Gavin, who seemed to be getting flustered by Connor’s sudden attentions. “What?”

“I’m just surprised you’d have something like that so readily available.” Connor responded truthfully. He wouldn’t think that Gavin would even care enough to keep something like that around.

“I have an android partner. Why wouldn’t I?” Gavin asked, glaring at him. But there was something else there and for the first time, in a long time, Connor saw something in his peripheral vision. It was faint, but unmistakable as it ghosted into his vision.

Software instability ^^

It had been over a year since he’d deviated, since he’d broken free from his programming. These programs were gone and yet, for whatever reason, it had shown on his periphery screen.

Without knowing why, Connor obeyed and sat on the counter without any argument. Reed moved close and looked awkwardly at his arm, stared, then looked away.

“You’re gonna have to remove your shirt. I can’t get to it and if we need the soldering iron I wouldn’t recommend putting it close to fabric.” Gavin said simply. He wasn’t looking at Connor, but focusing on the cat on his shoulder instead.

“Of course.” Connor responded and began undoing the buttons on his shirt. Connor didn’t know why, but there was static in the air that seemed to intensify with each button he undid. Gavin wasn’t looking at him, but he felt like he was being watched anyway.

Once the shirt was open, he slid his arms out of it and laid it neatly beside him. He turned to look at the cut and as he figured it wasn’t anything to worry about. He would likely be scarred from the soldering, but that wasn’t important. He turned back to look expectantly at the Detective, but stopped.

Gavin was still looking away from him, arms crossed at his chest. Connor noted something else of interest. Gavin’s pulse was elevated. He’d attributed this to stress and pain as he worked on Gavin’s wounds, but now he wasn’t so sure. His eyes could see piloerection forming on the man’s forearms; goosebumps. And the red hue that had been on his face had traveled down his neck to the skin peeking out from the v neck shirt he wore.

“Gavin?” Connor asked when the man did nothing. He saw him take a deep breath, closing his eyes momentarily, exhaling. Then his eyes turned, focused hard on Connor’s and faltered. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Just a little light headed from blood loss. I’ll be fine.” Gavin responded. But when he moved towards Connor, he caught a downward glance that became fixated on his thirium pump regulator. As if involuntary, Gavin’s hand came out and moved as if to touch it, but recoiled after a moment. As if he didn’t realize he was doing it.

The static intensified and made Connor’s skin prickle.

“Are you sure you’re okay Gavin? The wound is superficial and can wait if you’d like to sit down.” Connor offered, completely confused by this sudden change in demeanor. The whole time his cat perched, unbothered and suddenly unnoticed by Gavin as his eyes focused on Connor’s bare torso. Connor saw the man’s eyes dilate.

Software instability ^^

Gavin moved closer, setting the kit to one side of Connor’s hip, then taking his hand in his own to position Connor’s arm where it would be easiest to work on it. All Connor could do was watch, oddly fascinated by whatever phenomena was taking over the Detective and possibly…himself. This was new and fascinating to him. Exciting, even.

At one point, not wanting to focus so much of his attention on Gavin, Connor lifted his hand and stroked the back end of the cat as it purred happily. He saw Gavin’s eyes glance towards his hand, stiffening slightly until he realized its destination. He shook his head, blinking with a short breath as he set back to task.

“Okay. That should do it. Grip my hand.” Gavin said as he lifted his hand in front of him. Not in a handshake, but in fully open palm in front of Connor. He pressed his open palm to Gavin’s, entwined their fingers and gripped. “No malfunctions or weakness?”

“No. It feels just fine, actually. Thank you.” Connor replied genuinely, but Gavin was not quick to release his hand. Connor eyed him, that curiosity itching so much to be scratched. What was this? He felt his own thirium pump shift, more static. This was having a physical effect on him he could not place, the longer Gavin held his hand like that. “Gavin?”

In an instant, he hand let his go and he turned back to the table to place everything back into the kit.

“You should be good now. Probably best if you left. I should get some rest.” Gavin said quickly, but something else caught Connor’s attention as Gavin turned his back on him. Blood on the back of the Detective’s shirt. Another wound he hadn’t seen.

“Gavin. You’re still injured.” Connor said as he hopped down off the counter and walked over to him. He felt Gavin tense as he took the rim of the neckline on his shirt and pulled it down a bit.

“It’s okay. I can do it.” Gavin said quickly.

“It’s on your back. You can’t reach there. Take off your shirt and I’ll get it for you.” Connor offered. When Gavin didn’t move, he added “As soon as I make sure it’s nothing bad I will leave. You agreed to this earlier, remember?”

Gavin sighed, lifted his hands to gently remove the cat from his shoulders. He sat it onto the floor where it remained, staring up at them as if disappointed to no longer be a part of the situation. Then, begrudgingly, Gavin put his hands to the hem of his shirt and tugged upwards. For a moment, Connor caught the flash of something blue glint as it moved at the base of Gavin’s neck, then he realized that it was an LED. Unmistakably, his LED.

Gavin’s eyes followed his no doubt startled looking ones to the necklace at his chest and realization dawned there as he turned away, scrambling to get back into the shirt. Maybe hoping Connor didn’t notice?

“Gavin…” Connor began, but Gavin just started walking away from him. Without thought, he pursued the man as he entered his bedroom off the living room. Gavin tried to close the door, but Connor pushed it open easily as Gavin stumbled backwards. “Is that my LED?”

“It’s not what you think.” Gavin said quickly as he stood by the bed, arm out as if Connor might punch him. But Connor didn’t feel anger. He didn’t know what to feel, because he didn’t know why a part of him was hanging around Gavin Reed’s neck.

“Is that my LED?” Connor asked again. “Let me see it.”

He stepped forward, hand outstretched to pull at the leather straps that held it up, but Gavin smacked his hand away. That startled him, but did not stop his pursuit. Gavin grabbed at his hands, trying to prevent him from seeing it again and Connor found himself struggling with the Detective, being pulled towards him, hitting the bed and straddling over Gavin as he yanked the man’s shirt down. It was his LED, still glowing a dim blue as it pulsated against Gavin’s chest as his heart rate elevated quickly.

Gavin was breathing heavily and that red hue was more apparent on his chest as Connor held the shirt collar open. Gavin’s eyes were lidded and suddenly Connor realized something. Like all the puzzle pieces were falling into place.

“You-” He began, but Gavin leaned up quickly and pressed his lips against his. Connor’s eyes widened, unsure of what to do, but finding himself intrigued. Fascinated. He could analyze the alcohol still left on Gavin’s tongue as it ghosted between his lips. His body temperature peaked, the open eyes watching him fully dilated and a scent lingered between them, coming from the Detective’s skin. Gavin took his bottom lip between his own and tugged. Connor felt something at this, but could not define it and that only made him pursue it more.

Static.

———-

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[cescalr]

ME would like to suggest some fluffy willoughby/don

Don had invited Will over for Christmas.

Their year at Whitewater College, a boarding school purely for sixth-form students, had been fine. so much as any year after what happened at Slaughter could be fine. And it was fine because Clemise was in some other country, and Don had taken a few months, but he did get over their break-up. And it was fine because Don felt somewhat - he wouldn’t say traumatised by the events of that night, but… he wouldn’t say he didn’t feel in some way terrible about them, even now, if he reminisced too long on what happened.

But. That’s that, really. Don doesn’t dwell too much. You just got’t’deal with this sort’ve thing, y’know? Deal, and move forward.

Anyway. It’s Christmas. There’s no point bringing down the holiday cheer by thinking on that.

[Fic continued under break, or you can read it on Ao3; my profile is linked on my blog!! I’d put it here but tumblr is stupid and external links break tags.]

Don looked over from his place lying down to where Will was, still fast asleep on the mattress they’d set out for him. It was early morning, still – the light coming through the blinds in lines, brightening up parts of the room and, unfortunately, shining straight into Don’s eyes.

“Fuck,” Don muttered to himself, as he sat up in order to get away from the too-bright sunlight. “Too early. Shit.”

Well. Not that early; the sun didn’t rise until it was actually morning in winter, unlike the bullshit you got during summer – but still. Regardless, Don hadn’t been quiet enough, it seemed, because Will stirred.

After he blinked away sleep, Will seemed to register what day it was.

“Merry Christmas, Ducky,” He said, as he sat up. Don had tried to get him to use the proper bed and let Don sleep on the mattress instead, but Will had refused.

Truthfully, he wasn’t so bothered about that. It meant no springs digging into his back while he tried to sleep, after all.

“Merry Chris’mas,” Don replied, “Or, It would be, if y’d stop callin’ me Ducky.”

“We’ve had this argument for over a year, Ducky.” Will smiled. “You’re too late, it’s stuck.”

Don grumbled lightly and without heat as he scooted to the end of the bed then stood (so he didn’t end up standing on Will – Don’s bedroom isn’t very big), stretched and moved out of the room.

Once he was back from the bathroom, Will was dressed.

“Y’ever ‘eard of a ‘lazy day’?” Don asked, dryly. “Y’know… what Chris’mas is t’mos’ people?”

“I have,” Will said, plainly.

“Alrigh’ then,” Don rolled his eyes. “C’mon. Breakfast.”

They were home for Christmas, of course, but that didn’t mean the teens at Whitewater didn’t throw a week-long event – mostly drinking and partying in the art department’s basement, thrown by the drama club, because of course – in preparation.

“Donnie!” A girl, rather drunk, called out. “Blakey, Donnie! Over here!”

“Lauren,” Don replied. Will greeted in kind, and the two made their way through the crowd to the girl and the rest of the group.

“Neither of you are drunk yet, and it’s five somewhere!” She exclaimed, shoving two plastic cups of some alcoholic beverage into their hands. “Also, Danny got his sister to cough up the you-know-what, so we’ve got some brownies if you want any!”

“They only just arrived, Lauren, stop trying to get our friends addicted to pot,” Sam said, sighing, as he rolled his eyes. He was sat on a free stool, a book in one hand, and a water bottle gripped tightly and protectively in the other.

“Chill, Sam,” Lauren said, loud enough to be heard over the pounding of whatever EDM mess the ‘DJ’ had decided to play.

“I’ll chill when you stop trying to spike my drink, bestie,” Sam said, dryly.

“You know I love you!” Lauren sing-songed, then grinned. “Oh, my girl’s over there – Sammy, dear, show these lot where the food an’ shit is, yeah?” And with that, she was off – Don lost her in the crowd mere seconds after she’d entered it.

Sam rolled his eyes. “C’mon then,” Sam said, standing. “Food’s on the other side.”

As they walked, Don spotted various different people he’d met over his first year at Whitewater. There was Alex, Lillian, Sabrina, Derek – to name a few.

(Of course, there was Jesse, Zak, Michael – but… well, they didn’t really count as much. Though, Zak was talking with Alex; his cousin. Maybe he’d end up a better person in the new year? Only time would tell, Don supposed.)

“Y’ gotta have fun!” Lillian said, grinning. Sabrina slung her arms around their shoulders. “An’ us homosexuals have to stick together,” She added, swinging them around to face the drinks table instead of the buffet. “meaning - I need some money; buy my wares.”

“I recommend the ecstasy,” Lillian chimed in.

“You would,” Will said, smiling, as he carefully extracted himself from Sabrina’s grip. Don stepped away, and walked over to the table. “Five o’clock somewhere,” He said, shrugging.

“Right on,” Derek grinned, appearing out of nowhere. “I heard drugs.”

“Wanker,” Sabrina rolled her eyes. “I thought you were off with your mates?”

“And miss my main friendos?” He laughed, loudly. “No-way, broseph! I’m tryin’ t’ be a bit more sportsmanly, y’know? More of a team player.”

“They’re not gonna let you on the lacrosse team, Derek,” Lillian said, “Not after last time.”

Derek shrugged. “I can try,” He said, solemnly, and then was gone again.

“Jesus Christ,” Sabrina muttered, rubbing at her forehead. “Anyone else get a headache from his sheer presence?”

“I’m still trying to figure out his species,” Sam said. “I’ve figured Alien, but what kind…” He mused.

“Doesn’t matter,” Lillian dismissed. “Drink! Food! Illicit substances to fuel our various addictions, be they basic-bitch or hardcore asshat! Let’s go!”

Don rolled his eyes, and downed his drink.

And that had been the main theme of it.

So. Don had been home for a fair few days, now; Whitewater let you home for the week before, of, and after Christmas, and Don had made the most of it. It’d been a real long time since he’d seen what few mates he’d had back home – what with Slaughterhouse and then joining Whitewater after being cooped up at home for his mandated week-long ‘recovery’ period, after which he was supposedly supposed to be all better now, off you trot, and then the Christmas he’d spent at home with his mum as the actual ‘recovery’ period, according to her, and then another whole few months before summer, but then his mates had been out of the country, so then it was another couple months until now but - whatever. He’d hung out with what mates he had left, that first week, meaning Josh and Terri and James – Josh’s girlfriend and brother respectively. They played video games and smoked in the empty park and pretty much did exactly the same sort of shit they’d been doing when his mum had been wholly convinced that he was ‘depressed’.

Then Josh and Terri and James went off to Ireland for Christmas, and – Will came to stay. For Christmas week.

And then Will got a phone call, and now he was just going to stay until college started up again, and go back to Whitewater with Don. Logically. Practically.

Don – didn’t really need to ask.

Anyway.

“Ah hope you boys are ‘ungry,” His mum said, plating them and herself a full English. “Chris’mas is the only time ah bother, so you both better enjoy it!”

“Thanks, mum,” Don said, and she smiled and squeezed his shoulder lightly as she walked past. “Thank you,” Will said.

(“Thank you for having me over, M-“ Will started.

Babs’ smile dimmed. “Babs is fine, don’t you worry yourself with formality,” She said, warmly. “Come on in, it’s freezing!”)

“Eat up,” Babs encouraged. “You’re both growing boys, and we’ve presents to open!” She smiled, conspiratorially; they’d gone out Christmas shopping with her individually, and so she knew what they’d gotten each other, and appeared to be having the time of her life with this knowledge.

Don ate his breakfast.

“So. This one of the posh twats you replaced your old mates with, then, eh Don?”

“Josh,” Don greeted. “Bit of a dickhead but the right sort.” He told Will. “Will, Josh.” Don gestured.

“Willoughby Blake,” Will said, “And not too much of a twat, I wouldn’t say. You?”

“Josh Blythe, and I ain’t no dickhead to good people, y’ prat,” Josh said, scowling a little at Don. He fished a pack of smokes out of his pocket. “Fag?”

Will smirked. “Yes;” He said, “I also, do indeed, smoke.”

“Cool,” Josh said, tossing him one. “Terri’s my girl, now, by the way.” He told Don.

“Terri… Blythe?” Don cracked a smile. “That’s a bit awkward, innit?”

“Oi, sod off,” Josh flipped him the bird, then set about lighting his own cig. “Blythe’s a plenty common name.”

“I wonder why…” Will trailed off, leaning against the low stone wall.  

“Yeah yeah,” Josh rolled his eyes. “Nothin’ James hasn’t said yet.” He scowled slightly. “Fucken’ incest jokes… made by my own goddamn brother…”

“How’s everythin’ at St. Dunstan’s anyway?” Don asked, changing the topic.

“David’s still a right prat,” Josh said, thankful for the change in track. “Ah heard George is expectin’, but she could just have the flu. Maybe she’s dyin, ah don’ fucken’ kno’. We never talk, do we? Fucken – anyway, Muhammad got into that right fancy college, so he fucked off, along with his family, and jus’ about ev’ryone else ‘as gone t’ some other sixth-form. Yanno, ‘cept me, ma brother and Terri. There are some new arseholes, but they stick to each other.”

“Dunstan’s was always a shithole anyway,” Don said.

“Damn right,” Josh stood, dropped his cigarette to the floor and put it out with the heel of his trainer. “You gotten rusty at Halo since ya fucked off t’ the posh south or what?”

“I did better than you las’ week, y’ dick’ead,” Don said, dropping off of the wall. “C’mon. Y’ever played Halo, Will?”

“It’s fucking freezing.” Will said. “Why are we walking around the town centre?”

“’Cause we got nothin’ else t’do, obviously,” Don said, stomping through the snow. “An ah wan’t’ get an idea of wha’ ah wan’t’ get for my friends, you twat.”

“Should have done this earlier on, then,” Will said, glancing around. “Most places are closed.”

“’Course they’re fuckin’ closed, it’s a Sunday,” Don said, rolling his eyes. “Doesn’ mean there ain’t shit in the windows, y’ twat.”

“Of course,” Will said, glancing around again. “What’s that?” He pointed.

“Fuckin expensive piece of shit, that’s what tha’ is,” Don said, but he walked over to the shop Will was pointing at anway. “Never been inside – ah think they’d chase me off.” He said, dryly. “Smell the fuckin working class on me or some shit, like fuckin’ bloodhounds.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ducky,” Will said.

“There’s fuckin’ diamonds on those ten-thousand pound and up watches, Willoughby, I ain’t going anywhere near that shit.”

“Come on.” Will said, “It’s the only place that’s open.”

“The fuckin’ Macdonalds is open, Willoughby – oh, for fuck’s sake, fine.”

Don walked after Will, who’d already entered the store.

Don looked around, as he caught up with his friend.

“There’s perfectly fuckin’ good watches elsewhere, Will,” Don said. “What a fuckin waste of ten grand, Christ on a bike…”

“I’ve seen better watches,” Will agreed. “But we’re looking at the ones with price tags, which is stupid. Come on. They usually put the better things near the back.”

“The ones with – Willoughby,” Don said, “What –“

“Here we are.” Will said, satisfied.

The watches did not have diamonds on them, which was preferable – but they didn’t have price tags, which was worrying.

“Why the fuck would you look at the ones without price tags?” Don asked.

“Because you can look at them.” Will said, pointing to the fact that they weren’t hidden behind what seemed like five hundred layers of glass and security measures. “And they’re not particularly garish, are they Ducky?”

“No,” Don said, warily, squinting at the watches. “Ah guess not. But this is pointless, I’m – prob’ly jus’ goin’t’ get a watch where ah got my last one, I mean, it lasted a good while.”

“It lasted a year Ducky, that’s terrible,” Will said. “Mine broke the year before last, but I’d had it for nearly nine by that point, and it broke because I broke it.”

“Fuckin’ dumbass,” Don said. “Perfectly good fuckin’ watch.”

“I am aware of that, yes.” Will frowned at the watches. “Do you like any of them?” He asked.

“Can’t fuckin’ afford any of this shit, can I?” Don asked. “Humour me,” Will said.

Don rolled his eyes and huffed, but did take a proper look at each of the watches in turn.

“That one,” Don said, pointing at a simple black-leather and silver with a white clockface and normal, black numerals and clock hands. “Most normal fuckin’ watch here.”

“Man of simple tastes,” Will smiled. Don elbowed him. “Fuck off. Not all of us are fancy posh twats – hell, I think y’d like a pocket-watch, fuckin – I know you would, you’re like that.”

“Like what?” Will asked.

“A posh, sentimental git, obviously.” Don said. “C’mon, let’s go.” He said.

“My cover’s been blown,” Will said, smiling, and Don rolled his eyes. “Fuck off,” He said, good-naturedly, grinning as they left the store.

Previous Summer:

“How are ya this fine mornin’?”

Don glanced over at Terri. “Not bad,” He said. “You’ll be off t’ Ireland tomorrow, righ’?”

“Nail on the head,” Terri said, dropping down onto the floor beside him. “Josh’s scramblin’, try’na pack all his crap. James is off, prob’ly somewhere with George.”

“Thought she had the flu,” Don said.

(George nearly always ‘had the flu’.)

“Those bitches are getting fucking married, y’know tha’,” Terri snorted. “Or haven’t ya seen the loving couple? No fuckin’ flu or baby rumours are gonna keep ‘em off each other’s backs.”

“Guess not,” Don said. “Smoke?”

“Nah.” Terri waved a hand. “Try’na quit.”

Don snorted. “Bet Josh loved that.”

“He’s a dick’ead, but you knew tha’,” She laughed. “God. Love ‘im tho’.”

“Yeah.” Don said.

“You ‘ave a girl?” Terri glanced at him.

“Did,” Don said. “Clemsie.”

“Clemsie?” Terri shook her head. “Posh fuckin’ princess?”

“Don’t,” Don said, shortly. “She had to move country, with ‘er fam’ly. We broke up ‘cause o’ tha’.”

“Shit, Don, sorry.” Terri sighed. She clapped him on the shoulder, then leaned over to look him in the eye. “Still. Better to be friends than to lose everythin’ over a long-distance piece of shit relationship, righ’?”

Don thought of Meredith and Audrey, and winced.

“Definitely,” He said. “We video call. It’s – not that… we didn’ get t’be together very long. Tha’elps, ah guess.”

“Helps a lot.” Terri shook her head, then flopped back against the wall. “’Elps a fucking lot.”

“Yeah,” Don said.

“Y’make any friends at those posh schools o’ yours?” Terri asked. “Other than that Clemsie chick?”

“Kay, Will.” Don said. “Lauren, Sam, Sabrina, Lillian, Derek, Daniel-“

“See, fuckin’ knew you’d thrive there,” She said, shoving him in the shoulder and grinning. “Always though’ y’ deserved better than fuckin St Dunstan’s.”

“So do you lot,” Don protested. “It’s a shithole, nobody deserves that.”

“Victims of fuckin’ circumstance, the lot of us,” She said, slumping back. “But I mean it.” She turned her head and looked at him. “Y’ the best o’ all o’ us, y’ prat. Accept it. Well. I mean, Muhammad’s a medical fuckin’ genius, but that’s a whole different ballpark and he’s a hopeless twat mostly, so I don’t count him If I did, he’d be the best no question – but yanno. I’m comfortin’ you, ‘ere.”

“Thanks,” Don said, dryly.

“No problem.” She grinned, and shoved him lightly in the shoulder again. “C’mon. Dad recently fixed up an old foosball table o’ his fam’ly’s, an’ I wan’na see if you’re any better than Josh or his bro,” She clapped him on the shoulder. “An’ maybe you can tell me all ‘bout your new friends, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Don said. “Sure.”

“Terri?” Don asked.

“Yeah? Oh, Don,” She unlatched the door and opened it. “Come inside, it’s fucking cold. God, I hate winter,” She slammed the door shut behind him.

“Do you know anywhere I could get a pocket watch?” Don asked.

“At an affordable price? Yes, of course, never doubt me,” She spun on her heel. “Or, rather, never doubt my dad. Dad!” She yelled.

“Wha’?” A voice boomed back.

“Y’know where we could find a custom watchmaker’s that ain’t damn expensive?”

“Yeah. I’ll drive yeh. Say ‘hello’ t’ Don for meh!”

“How the fuck does he know?” Don shook his head.

“The man has magic, I swear to god. It fuckin’ annoys me I got mum’s genes in that matter.” Terri grumbled, and walked into the living room. She dropped onto the couch, and Don followed suit.

“Is this for that boy o’ yours?” Terri asked, grinning lazily as she leaned back on the couch.

“He’s – why d’y’ have t’put it like tha’?” Don leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees.

“’Cause I like to make people question things,” She said, “Obviously.” Terri stood and moved into the kitchen, then returned with two cokes. “Here,” She tossed him a can. “It’s shit but mum’s addicted me to it, damn the woman.”

Terri dropped onto the beanbag. “Here’s to a very fuckin’ Merry Christmas, y’ prat,” She grinned as she lifted the can in imitation of a toast.

“Hear hear,” Don opened the drink and returned the toast.

“Dad’ll be done in a few minutes,” Terri said, “But – in all seriousness, is this your prezzie for Willoughby or what?”

“Yeah,” Don said. “Fuckin’ git’s as fancy and sentimental as it gets, so…”

“Y’ sentimental y’self, ya prat,” She said, fondly. “Which is why we’re goin’ the whole nine fuckin’ yards, ‘cause a custom one’s a better fuckin’ gift than any stock shit. Better quality, usually, too, ‘cause the maker actually cares about the fuckin' end product.”

“I’m not fuckin’ sentimental, much,” Don said.

“No, y’ just sappy, y’ fuckin prat,” Terri sunk down into the beanbag chair. “Don’ lie to me, Don, I’ve known ya for nearly our whole lives, mate. And I’m older, so I win.”

“If I’m sappy y’re twelve,” Don put the coke can down on the floor, unfinished.

“And proud of it,” She grinned at him. “Only way I can win arguments, I ain’t no good with words.”

“How’d you do in English?” Don asked.

Terri pursed her lips and sighed. “Fuckin failed it, didn’t ah?” She glowered at nothing. “Good fuckin’ thing I can drop out ah sixth form and jus’ go for a level four apprenticeship, huh? Or was it three…” She trailed off, frowning as she thought.

“Eh, whatever.” She chucked her empty coke can into the bin. “Score,” She grinned. “Anway,” Terri turned her attention back to Don. “You’re a total sap, I’ve got evidence. Point is, I’m strong-arming you to go the whole nine-fuckin’ yards, because even tho’ I can trust you to do it on yer own, without me you’ll totally get scammed out o’ your money.”

“Terri,” Don said, flatly.

“What? Who out’a the two of us knows trade, huh? Not you, y’git.” She grinned. “Also I wanna know exactly what inscription y’ put on the fuckin’ thing.”

“Fuck off,” Don said, leaning back onto the couch. “Thanks.”

“Mixed messages, there, oh Donald,” Terri grinned, and dodged the cushion he threw at her. She picked it up and put it under her head, her grin turning self-satisfied. “I always win,” She reminded him.

“No you don’t,” Don said. “Remember the trip to Wales, in year eight?”

“We never talk about the trip to Wales in year eight,” Terri said, automatically. “That’s the first rule of our friendship. Right above ‘we don’t talk about Alex Connors.’”

“Noted,” Don said, sitting up. “Which is above ‘there was never a Chase Johnson’.”

“See, he gets it,” Terri grinned at Don. “We keep each others' dirty little secrets, we get along.”

“Blackmail is the only reason we’re friends,” Don said, dryly.

“And don’t you forget it!” She grinned, laughing, and fell backwards onto the beanbag.

“You two. Got t’ get goin’ now.” Her dad said, suddenly appearing at the doorway. How the six-foot-five craftsman managed this had always been and always would remain a mystery.

Don’s started to believe the story that he killed a strange looking wasp that had holed up alone in it’s hive in the attic of a customer’s house and that’s what gave him his strange abilities a lot more since the events at Slaughterhouse.

After all – Meredith’s not dead, and neither is the dog. The dog which looks exactly like the one in the paintings… of a dog that had lived hundreds of years prior.

“We’re ready, come on,” Terri said, standing, and Don followed the two Blythes out of the house.

“Ah, Terri Blythe, it’s been a long time.”

“Heyo, Uncle Terrance,” Terri said, stepping up to the counter. “Ma friend ‘ere – Don, y’ remember? – needs to get a prezzie for his boy.”

“Terri,” Don said, sighing.

“What?” She looked at him. “Fuck off, you idiot. Ah’ve squinted at your act for a week, bitch, I know exactly how you feel about him. Or do we need to talk about Alex?”

“Fuck off,” Don said. “Hullo, Mr. Connolly.”

“Donald Wallace,” The man said, surprised, as he removed his glasses to quickly clean them, then replaced them on his face, mostly all the way down his nose, in order to squint at Don as if he wasn’t sure Don was actually what he was seeing. “My my, it’s been – how long?”

“’Bout a decade, Uncle Terry,” Terri said.

“Indeed.” The man replaced his lens cleaning cloth back into his pocket, like some old-timey handkerchief. “So what brings you both here?”

“Like ah said,” Terri stated, slowly, “He needs to get a present for his friend for Christmas.”

“My dear boy, it’s only four days away!” The elderly man said, agitated, as he went about retrieving various designs and sheets for pricings. “I can make it in that time, of course, and as always you will get the family discount – but you’ve left yourself very little time to plan!”

“Ah only came up with the idea yesterday.” Don winced.

“That’s even worse!” The man came to a stop, the desk that served as the counter piled high with various pieces of paper. “You’ll need to make the decision today, but you can ask for the inscription upon completion, thank the lord above,” The man narrowed his eyes at Don. “And next time, son, figure things out before the deadline!”

“Righ’,” Don said. “Will do.”

“Good.” The man sighed, relieved. “Now. Take a look,” He gestured to the pile, “And tell me which parts of which designs suit best. And remember – family and Christmas discount, so don’t say no for no good reason.”

Don nodded, somewhat awkwardly, as he started rifling through the papers. Terri wandered off, to browse through the clocks, which included watches - pocket and otherwise – lining the walls and displayed, lovingly, across tables.

“Eight years old,” The elderly man shook his head as he muttered. “And now – you’ll be graduating soon, I imagine?”

“There was an incident,” Don said, “At the firs’ sixth-form ah went t’. After tha’, we ‘ad t’ repeat lower sixth at a new place. So, uh. One more year.”

“I see,” The elderly man inspected a watch hung on the wall and frowned, then set about buffing out an invisible scuff mark. “Where did you go?”

“Slaughterhouse School,” Don said, and the man froze.

“In Slaughter,” The man – stated. It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah.” Don said. “The School –“

“Blew up, yes, I heard.” The elderly man pursed his lips. “A right shamble. Still, at least you got out safely.” The man turned away from the watch on the wall, then cleaned his glasses – avoided eye contact. “… What really happened?”

Don looked blankly at him.

“I may be old, Donald, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know things.” Terrance squinted at him, then put his glasses back on. “Fracking doesn’t usually cause that sort of damage.”

“Well,” Don said. “They weren’ very –“

“Responsible Frackers, I know,” The man’s nostrils flared. “They give it a bad name, that company. No, what I mean is – stories spread. Legends… an old clockmaker hears things.” The man sighed, and looked at the pictures of his customers on the wall behind the counter.

In a few of them, there was a familiar dog.

“Big fuck off mole rats,” Don said. “We had to blow it up.”

“We?” The man’s head snapped over to Don. “How many people killed them?”

“… Dunno,” Don said. “Mr. ‘Ouseman killed one, mostly, then we beat it the rest o’ the way dead. Then – I used Will’s snuffbox to get another, an’ the lighter Will’d been bequeathed to blow up the school – usin’ the gas,” Don explained. “Clemsie killed a li’le one.”

“I see.” The man paused. “Well. I suppose we’ll see how that turns out eventually.”

“Wha’ d’y’ mean?” Don asked.

“Here.” The man said, instead, handing Don a stack of designs. “Find your friend a pocket watch. And think up an inscription, while you’re at it! Don’t leave that as last minute as you left this! I need to talk to my niece. If you’ll excuse me…” And with that, the old man had bustled him off and walked away, over to Terri who was poking a stuffed cat.

“Merlin died then?” Don heard.

“Not all pets can live forever,” The man sighed. “It’s a burden some must face alone.”

Don looked back up at the pictures.

1891

1912

1925

1956

1993

2001

2014…

Don frowned, then shrugged, and looked down at the designs.

Design 3048: Forever.

Design 246: Eternal.

Design 13: Infinite…

Don raised his eyebrows, then shrugged, and started picking out parts of the designs he thought Will might like.

Previous Summer:

“The Johnsons moved to America?”

“No Idea where they go’ the money either, mate,” James said, leaning back on the couch. Terri, from her place on a cushion on the floor, chuckled. “Inheritance, got’t’ be,” She said, as she dispatched of a few grunts. James nodded as he circle-strafed around a hunter.

“No wonder I ah’ven’ seen Mikey ‘round.” Don said.

“They didn’ tell nobody,” Terri scowled. “Fucken’ Lillian didn’ even bother tellin’ her bes’ friend, the wanker.”

“Lisa cry on your shoulder ‘bout it?” Don asked.

Terri grimaced as she picked up an energy sword, then started running around hitting elites with it. “Yes.” She said, glowering at the TV. “There was snot and everything. Fucken’ wan’ed t’ punch Lil’ for tha’.”

“Can imagine,” Don said.

“’Course y’ could, y’ sap,” James said, and Don elbowed him, which caused him to fail in circle-strafing and get shot.

“Bastard,” James said, elbowing Don back, and Terri laughed, finding an enemy-less corner so James could respawn.

 “Willoughby Blake,” Terri said. “Don kno’ yer ‘ere?”

“I have it under good authority that you’ve known him for a very long time,” Will said, “And I was wondering if you could distract him for a – short while, while I go get his Christmas present?”

“Fucken’ell, mate, what’s with posh bastards and waitin’ ‘til the las’ minute?” Terri grumbled, but she stepped inside, and left the door open. Will hesitated before following, and stayed at the door while she put on her boots. “Relax, y’ twit,” She waved a hand, before she started doing up the laces. “I don’ bite.”

“Alright,” Will said, and moved to lean against the wall.

“Da’, I’m off! Seeing the Wallaces!” Terri shouted, as she stood. Terri grabbed her coat off of the stairs, at the end of the bannister, and threw it on. “Fucken’ cold out, innit?” She said, as she walked out of the house. Will followed. “Yes,” He said. “Quite.”

“Post twat,” She said. “You be good to Don, y’ ‘ear meh?”

“I-“

“Don’ even,” Terri warned. “I ‘ate liars. Now go ge’im somethin’ fucken’ nice, and don’ le’im say ‘no’ ‘cause ya spent money on it, ya hear me?”

“Roger that.” Will said, “Ma’am.”

Terri snorted. “Ge’ the fuck out’t’ ‘ere, y’ posh bastard. An’ I expec’ somethin’ nice enough, too, for the good fucken’ advice ah give ya both, y’ blind twits.”

-

“Initiation’s simple, bitches.” Terri slammed a crate of beer onto the table. “Drink me under, an’ ah’ll respect ya fer life.”

“Y’ for real about this, Terri?” Don asked.

“Well, no, bu’ it’ll ‘elp,” Terri said. “Wha’, col’ feet already, Wallace?”

“No,” He rolled his eyes and gestured with the beer he’d already picked up. “Jus’ remember when Mikey drank you under the table?”

“Not my best momen’, bu’ I’m tryin’ t’ recover from tha’, ‘ere. Whoever ‘andles their drink bes’ wins.”

“Ah know who’s gonna fucken’ lose ‘ere, then.” Don said.

“Fuck off, Ducky,” Will said. Terri grinned.

“Fuck’s sake, Willoughby,” Don downed some of his drink.

“Don, Donald, Duck, Ducky. Ah ge’ it, tha’s cute,” Terri grinned, leaning back on her beanbag. She downed a beer, then slammed the empty can down on the floor. “Pacing’s for wimps,” She announced to the ceiling.

“If y’ say so,” Don said. “’S no’ fuckin’ cute.”

“I’m older, what I say goes, it’s cute,” Terri said. “Get me drunk enough, Blake, mate, an’ I’ll tell ya stories about ‘ow much of a sap ‘e is.”

“Fuck off,” Don said. “Or I’ll bring up Cha-“

“Two can play at tha’ game, Donald Wallace,” Terri said, interrupting, as she reached over for another can.

“I have to say, I am curious,” Will said, supressing a smile of amusement. He was onto his second can.

“Ah-ah,” Terri waved a hand at him. “Y’ get t’ know Don’s embarrassing shit, but ah jus’ met ya. Which means y’ don’ get t’ kno’ mine… problem ‘ere is if ya ‘ear Don’s from me, ‘e’ll tell ya about mine. So, yanno, that ain’ ‘appenin’.”

“Shame,” Don said, downing his drink. “Really.”

Lunchtime on Christmas Eve saw a small get-together, with the two Blythe families and the Wallaces.

“Lisa’s still fuckin’ angry at Lil’, an’ she’s over at her gran’s for the yearly fam’ly gatherin’, so she ain’ showin’ up this year. Jus’ us lot, Mrs. Wallace,” Terri said. The two families would be leaving later on, to be in Ireland for the next day. Cutting it a bit close – but then, that was the Blythes, for you. Both sets of them.

Babs smiled at the two sets of Blythes as she stood aside and let them in. “It’s Babs, Terri,” She reminded the girl, like she’d been doing for years. “Come on. Group photo – Don, grab the camera, I’ll go get Dad.”

“Mum-“ Don started, but she was already gone. He sighed, shook his head. “He’s fine where he is,” Don mumbled, but he went to go get the camera anyway.

“Ev’ryones ‘ere,” Don said to Will. “Terri, James, Josh, David; ah, Terri’s dad, an’ Mr. and Mrs. Blythe.”

“So all the Blythes, then,” Will said. “Christmas eve dinner?”

“Fucken’ lunch, mate,” Don said. “Dinner’s later.”

“Ah, but it’s breakfast, dinner, and supper or tea.” Will said.

“Fuck off,” Don said. “We’re doin’ a fuckin’ group photo. Mum’s gettin’ dad’s urn. Let’s go.”

Will nodded, and followed Don into the living room. It wasn’t too cramped, but it was a fair bit cramped. Babs placed the urn on the mantlepiece of the electric fire. “Ev’ry one, gather round, I’ll jus’ set up the camera.” She said, taking it from Don. “Found out a remote activation method, bloody handy,” She explained as she went. The Blythes used the urn as a dividing line, and made sure to leave enough space for the three remaining individuals. “C’mon,” Terri said, gesturing. Don walked over and stood next to his dad, and Will, being tall, went on the back row, between and behind Terri and Don. “There we go,” Mrs. Blythe muttered, then smiled at them. There was space on the other side of the urn for Don’s mum, though it was a bit of a squeeze, and as Babs set up the camera, she asked everyone to move a bit closer in, so they were all in frame, and posed properly. Babs then quickly squeezed into place, and they all smiled at the camera as the flash went off a few times.

“Great!” Babs smiled, and Mr. Blythe – Josh’s dad – clapped his hands. “What’s for Lunch, eh Babs?” He asked.

“Sunday roast,” She grinned. “Wen’ all out for it, so be grateful it’s not sandwiches. Le’s go eat!”

"Present time!" Babs said, clapping her hands once after she'd received confirmation that they'd finished eating. "I'm gon' go grab somethin' while you two start - go on, go on!" She gestured, herding them into the living room before absconding up the staircase. 

"Camera," Don said, knowingly, then flopped down onto the couch. 

Presents from their friends had been coming in since the Christmas holidays started - Don's not entirely sure how Lauren knew to send Will's here, or how or why she'd convinced Sam and the others to do the same, but he hadn't paid much attention to that. Will had brought ones that Clemsie and Smudger and Kay and Hargreaves and Wootton had sent - after all, if it does anything, living through what happened at Slaughterhouse at least makes you a permanent entry on the Christmas shopping list - and Don's had arrived last week. The various Blythes' presents were also under the tree, a couple joint presents; Josh's family got Don and Will and Babs one present each, so that made three presents from the four Blythes, and David got Don and Babs - the Wallaces - some chocolate, but Terri gave Don and Will and Babs a present each - so four from the two Blythes. 

Trying to figure out which bag of presents had been from which Blythe family had been somewhat futile. Thankfully, the individual presents were a bit more obvious. 

(Both families were - bad at tagging, still, though.)

"Alright, which first?" Will said. Don sat up, stood up, and walked over. "Let's get the Blythes over and done with," He said, "Can' fuckin' figure out which is which for them, an' it's bugging me."

"Indeed," Will said, picking up one that had 'Will' on it in sharpie. Don picked up his, and dropped back onto the couch. He opened it, and a note fell out - Terri's, then; she always wrote little notes that she stuck inside the packaging, instead of on it. 

Told him you like him yet, dickhead?

- T. 

Don resisted the urge to facepalm and hid the message amongst the wrapping paper. "Who's your from?" He asked. Will was struggling with an overly sellotaped lump of a present. He found a place he could rip it from, though, and quickly did so. "Terri," He said, frowning slightly at a message written on paper with, of course, sharpie. It bled through, but Don didn't try to read it via the back of the paper. Will scoffed, lightly, and dropped the message, which disappeared into the wrapping paper. "Your friend has an interesting sense of humour," Will said. 

"She's like tha'," Don said. "Always 'as been."

Don grinned at the copy of a Halo game he didn't yet have - a present that was as much for him as for her, likely since co-op was the only way she ever accepted anyone play Halo - and placed it down on the couch next to himself. "What'd she get you?" Don asked.

"A - puzzle box." Will frowned at it. He shook it, and there was something inside it, but how to get in there was - well, a puzzle. "... Interesting choice."

"She got me a cardboard box once," Don said. "And a coat hanger."

"Why?" Will blinked at him. "No' sure," Don shrugged. "She got 'er own boyfriend - b'fore they were t'gether, obviously - a keytar once. Tha' was mem'rable." 

"... Alright, then." Will said, for lack of a better response. Don wasn't sure what you could say to that, anyway. 

They made their way through the rest of the presents, and on the fifth Babs entered the room. 

"Candid." She said, grinning, and Don sighed. "Mul'iple, actu'ly."

"Mum," Don sighed, and she laughed. "Come on, Don, grab Dad, would you? ;E's still in the dinin' room." Well. The kitchen/diner, since it was one room with a table crammed in the corner. 

"Alright," Don said, standing. "Yeah, I'll get him."

Don left the room, and Babs sat down on the couch. 

"See, I've known Don for a very long time, bein' 'is mum an' all," Babs said. She turned and smiled at Will, "An' I knew 'e liked tha' Clemsie girl from the momen' 'e saw 'er - an' ah can tel when he's grown t' like someone, too."

Will didn't reply.

"My boy's go' a big 'eart, and 'e cares abou' you," Babs said, plainly. "An' I'm no' gon' warn y' abou' no' 'urtin' 'im, b'cause ah kno' y're no' the type," She said. "So jus' let y'self be 'appy, Will. Y're a good kid; y' deserve it."

Babs stood and set up the camera as Don entered the room. "Will, be a dear and take the photo, wou'd y' please?" Babs asked. "Don, bring y' father over 'ere." A few flashes later, the photos were taken. "Ah've got' go take a few presents round to our Jackie's," She said, "So ah'll be back soon enough. You two carry on with the presents, don' wait for me." And with that, Babs was gone. 

Don shook his head slightly, and moved to the tree. "Which next?" He asked.

"Ah - why not the Lawrences?" Will asked.

"Then the other 'slaugh'erians'" Don grinned. "Sure." Don tossed Will his present from Smudger - customary, generic; they hadn't really gotten to know each other, after all, Smudger and the rest of the group, since after the events of Slaughterhouse and everyone went home from that police station, well, the Lawrences moved country, so. Don put the riculously expensive chocolate - the same as what Will had gotten from the male Lawrence - aside, and then grabbed Clemsie's presents for them both. He handed Will his, then opened his own. 

Don, a letter read, Merry Christmas! It's been such a long time - we should all really meet up in the new year. Kay will be back in England in the summer, and we'll be visiting family then, so I could pull some strings. It'd be nice, to see everyone again. Staying friends after everything that happened - well. It feels like a good idea to me. 

I hope you and Will have had a good time at that new college - I keep getting letters from Wootton, bless him, about the place his mother sent him to this time. At least Hargreaves is keeping an eye on the poor boy; much like you, they were lucky enough to get sent to the same place. I'm pretty sure if they could, the Hargreaves would have adopted Wootton already, but - well. Given how often he's with his actual family, he might as well already be Isaac's little brother. 

We really should all speak more. It's not like we have phones and skype or email or anything... certainly, we have a lot better than letters. I mean. Really.

See you both in the new year!

Signed,

Clemsie. 

"Got a letter," Don said. "You?" "Yes," Will nodded. "Something about getting the gang back together, as it were."

"'S no' a bad idea," Don said. "Ah mean. We 'aven' spoken in around a year. Tha's a while."

"True," Will said. 

"Guess we'll see if Smudger's therapist thinks it's a good idea," Don said, because though they didn't all keep in much contact, they did say the important things occasionally - usually on gift-giving days. Really, they did need to keep in better contact.

Ah well. That'll be a new years resolution, then. 

Don turned to the present, which was a simple photo album. I heard you take photography, now, some paper masking-taped to the inside cover read. Here's a place to store it all. :)

Signed, Clemsie.

Signed, Smudger. 

"Huh." Don shrugged and put down the album. "Alright."

Will put down his present from Clemsie and ostensibly from Smudger - obviously the presents were from Clemsie, but Smudger had signed the notes masking-taped onto both, if not the letters. 

Don took the present from Kay Will handed over to him and opened it. 

Clemency's gotten it into her head we're going to catch up in the summer. I'll see what I can do, since I will be back in dreary old England, but in the meantime - I heard you take maths. 

You might want to train up your logic if that's the case, so I've given you a 'how to' book on chess, free of charge. I usually make people pay for this since I wrote it, but. We're friends, and it's Christmas, so.

Just try and fucking beat me next time we meet, I dare you, Wallace.

Signed,

Kay. 

Don shook his head and held up the book in response to Will's identical copy. They grinned, slightly, at each other, then reached for the next presents. Hargreaves sent them both identical copies of dungeons and dragons, which he'd presumably sent everyone, and Wootton had sent them fudge. After that, it was Babs' presents - a scarf for Will and a camera for Don (who attempted not to think about how much that cost; most of the Christmas shopping budget, probably) - and then it was time for the presents they'd gotten each other. 

"You first," Will said, handing over his present to Don. Don took it - internally thankful his present didn't go first, for a multitude of reasons - and opened it. 

After the cardboard box and the wrapping paper had been put aside, Don looked at the watch - repackaged, likely, so Don couldn't see the price just from looking at its original box. It's the one he'd pointed out as the one he'd liked best, simple and sleek and fucking expensive, probably, and completely out of his range. 

"Will-" Don started but - "Just take the present, Ducky," Will said. 

Don tried to read his expression, for a moment, but gave up and nodded, slowly. "Well? Go on then, Willoughby, open yours," Don said, gesturing, as he finished removing the protective wrap from the watch and put it on. 

Don waited as Will unwrapped the pocket watch, and waited as Will took a moment to look at it. 

"I..." "Just take the present, Duck," Don said. Will smiled at him, and Don smiled back. 

"There's an inscription," Don said, gesturing. "On th'back."

Will closed and turned over the pocket watch. 

Bequeathed. 

Don watched his face, quitely - Will's reaction was immediate. Many feelings were quickly telegraphed across his face, but Don only caught a few - wonder, surprise, but chief among all - 

Panic. 

Ah. Shit. 

Will stood and walked out. Don hesitated, but this was much less life-threatening than the last time he'd hesitated to go after Will - so, he went. It didn't feel much less nerve-wracking, though, but Don didn't focus on that part. 

Don had heard the front door close, and sure enough - when he opened it, Will was there, out on the cold, snow-covered pavement. 

"Y'kno', if y'ate the gift, y' can jus' tell meh - y' don' 'ave to leave the 'ouse y' dramatic git," Don said. It was cold, and he was still in his pyjamas, and the posh twit currently stood outside his house was probably the most interesting thing to have happened to his little council estate street in years, but at that moment Don didn't rightly care much what Mrs. Johnson saw from between her half-closed curtains, or what Clara-Anne Jenkins could spy on from behind her blinds.

"It isn't that I hate it - It's more - I -" Will stopped, mid-sentence, frustrated enough to start pacing, back and forth, crunching a short path into the snow.  "'S'more wha', Willoughby?"

Will didn't reply immediately, just let out a breath that clouded in the cold air. 

"It doesn't matter, Ducky." Will said.

"'Course it fuckin' matters, or y' wouldn' 'ave left th'fuckin' 'ouse." Don pointed out, reasonably. 

"Donald." 

"Willoughby." Don walked over, mindless of the cold and the snow, and frowned at the other eighteen-year-old. "I don' wan't' renact a fuckin' soap-opera, jus' tell me wha' the fuck is wrong."

"Nothing's - wrong," Will said. "I just - I didn't... No-one's ever thought I or... anything about me was worth remembering. Especially not - something like that. Something that..."

"Important?" Don asked, quietly. 

Will nodded. 

"Well. I do." Don said. "Fuckin' 'ell, Duck, o'course I do."

Will stared down at him, for just a moment - and then, carefully, a move you could almost call furtive - leaned forward, and pressed his lips (cold, chapped - but soft, softer than he'd have thought) to Don's. 

Somewhere far away, a door slammed shut, and Will moved back. 

Before he could get the wrong idea, Don caught Will's hand with his own. "Y' kno', Will, I kno' yer cold-blooded an' that, but I'm fuckin' freezin' out 'ere."

Will laughed. He let himself be led back inside the house. Don dropped his hand and closed the door, then turned to look at Will again. Before he could say anything, of course, the door opened. 

"Candid." Babs said, grinning. "Tha' was a beau'iful momen', really; one for the scrapbook."

Don sighed.

"First've all," Don said, "Mum, what the fuck, d'y' think y're doin'?"

Will grinned. "I, for one, think it's sweet. I should like our moments together to be captured."

"Ah, shut up, ya sentimental git." Don rolled his eyes. "Mum, 's weird, y' really don' need to."

"Actu'ly, Don, ah do," She said, frankly. "Mem'ries're precious thin's. Bes'to capture 'em so they're no' forgo'en." 

"Alrigh', alrigh'-" 

"Great!" Babs clapped her hands. "Now. Who wants lunch?"

[skamofcolor]

I know you probably don't do discourse, but even after all the backlash with the whitewashing of sana and erasing mahdi, skam italia now had the even counterpart say the n-word in one of the clips 😬😬😬

Oh boooooooooooy lol. 

My response became extremely long so I’m gonna put it under a Read More:

Okay, so I when I first heard this happened after the SkamIt clip dropped, I was thinking about doing a post on this here, but ultimately decided against it. I did post a bit about how ludicrous the situation was on my personal blog, though, lol. But since we’ve gotten an ask on it, and it’s been a few days so I’ve had time to collect my personal thoughts more, here’s a long post about the entire situation.

Context, for anyone who doesn’t know yet: In one of SkamIt’s latest clips (the og equivalent would be that scene in S3 where Isak and Even hang out, listen to rap, make food, smoke weed, etc. and then Isak discovers Even has a girlfriend) Italian!Even - Niccolò - says the n-word. 

I actually did watch this scene to get a full idea of it, so here’s how the framing of it happens: Martino (Italian!Isak) and Niccolò are talking about music. Niccolò is like, “one of my fave artists is Earl Sweatshirt, let’s put some of his music on.” So he gets up to do that, and then goes back to the couch. They’re both holding these weird puppets that Niccolò owns, and Niccolò is like, “let’s play fight with the puppets.” As the opening line of the song comes on, he says something like, “let’s go, my n*gga.”

So this caused a bit of a fandom blow-up. Where on one side, there’s folks who aren’t horrible are rightfully mad that this show had a white boy said the n-word. And then… there are stans who have been using every excuse under the sun to defend it, including: this is Italian culture, this word has a different meaning everywhere except for English speaking countries, Americans have no right to be mad because this isn’t for them, and it’s only a word, who cares. The showrunner also put out a… charming… defense to the whole thing, which although it’s since been deleted off of Instagram, a kind Tumblr user has translated. 

So this all being put out there, here are my personal thoughts on the matter: to be honest, I’m annoyed that Niccolò said it but that’s not my big issue. My big issue is that I hate the framing and consequent defense of it. Here’s what I mean by that:

1) Yes, white Europeans, the n-word, in all it’s forms, is a racial slur. No, it doesn’t fucking matter if it “means something different” in your country. And no - you can’t fucking say it.  

First of all, I’m gonna have to call bullshit on it “meaning something different.” 

A lot of the defense I’ve seen has been people claiming that it’s “U.S.-centric” to be mad that Niccolò said the n-word. And my response to that is… And So???? Lol?????

Look. The word comes from a U.S.-context. So you cannot have it both ways. You can’t talk about this word and claim in “means something different” in your country and then not want to talk about the ROOTS of it. If this word doesn’t come from your culture, then why are you so quick to defend it as part of your culture? 

Furthermore, Italy is not free of systemic antiblackness. When Italy (as well as every other country in the world) has a derogatory term for Black people, has a history of colonization in African nations, and has seen an increase of violence and murder of Black people in this year alone? Y’all can’t pretend like just because this word is in English that it’s meaningless in a country full of racism, xenophobia, and antiblackness. 

And if you’re trying to claim that Italian teenagers are using it willy nilly because they don’t know what it means… I just… I literally can’t believe that. I just can’t believe in this day and age that folks, even outside of the U.S., do not know what the word means or where it comes from. But what I do believe is that folks do know what it means, and yet don’t care. They appropriate it for themselves because everyone loves Black culture while simultaneously hating Black people. And that’s facts. 

In a globalized world where specifically Black American culture is commodified and distributed like candy, you’d have to be living under a rock to not understand the violence behind this word. And if you are living under a rock… you never would’ve heard it in the first place. 

(In case you are one of those living-under-a-rock people, there are a thousand and one articles on why it’s okay for Black people to say the n-word and why non-Black people shouldn’t. Here’s just one of those videos in case you didn’t know. The fact of the matter is, it’s not just a word. It’s violence. And regardless of if Black people wanna use it or not, that’s NOT up to anyone who’s not Black to decide.) 

2) We have to remember that this is a FICTIONAL television show. And that every single thing that the characters do/say was CREATED by an actual human.

Okay, but fine.

Let’s go with the defense that white teenagers all over Italy are using a racial slur casually cause no one knows the violent context behind the n-word and it’s all in good fun (Sounds fake, but okay). 

So Niccolò says it because that makes it realistic, and SkamIt is going for realism. Okay. Then the big issue of this isn’t that he said it; it’s the framing of it that it’s a-okay that he’s said it that’s my issue.

Because this all has to do with the SHOWRUNNERS, who are grown ass people, knowing the context and meaning of the n-word. Because as adults creating media for young people, I damn sure will be holding them responsible for what their characters say and do. And honestly? If non-Black teenagers in Italy are really running around saying the n-word with nary a care in the world, then it’s your duty as the adult to show why that’s wrong.

 Including someone doing/saying racist things isn’t inherently bad, because I agree. It is realistic. But never showing a resolution to it or calling it out within the framing of your show just lets your audience know that A) you don’t care about People of Color and/or B) you don’t think the oppression we face is a big deal. And both, when you’re making a show for young people, is dangerous. 

Because it perpetuates the idea that racism is okay or it’s not as bad, particularly when it’s done in a casual, “not intending to cause harm” kind of way. Racism isn’t always direct intentional malice; it can include anything that perpetuates the normalization of systemic oppression. Which was the big issue with how Julie portrayed Vilde’s racism all throughout og Skam but that’s another rant.  

It would be one thing if Niccolò said it and Martino recoiled a bit or was like “bro, wtf?” But he doesn’t do any of that. Niccolò says it and then the two play with their puppets. And that’s the thing - I personally feel, that as a showrunner, if you’re going to depict the normalization of racial slurs (which you inherently do, when you have someone casually saying the n-word) then it’s your DUTY to frame it as bad. Because it is bad. Regardless of how “realistic” it is, it’s still racist as fuck. Again, especially because of the rise in xenophobia, racism, and specifically antiblackness in Italy. 

But that brings us to Ludovico’s ridiculous statement, because it’s obvious that he doesn’t agree that using the n-word was at most racist as shit and at the very least, in bad taste. And his statement, altogether, shows a very basic lack of critical thinking and comprehension as to why what happened was not okay. 

3) Ludovico’s reasoning for having Niccolò say the n-word, quite frankly, is bullshit and the most cringey white person thing I have ever read in my life, ever. 

And I think by breaking down his… non-apology… this addresses a lot of the bullshit defenses that SkamIt’s stans have been throwing at folks, too. 

“What is happening? Niccolò listens to American rap. He listens to Earl Sweatshirt. A black rapper. People who are criticising me, do they even know who this artist is? How does he look like? Do they know his father was a  South African activist and politician? Do they know his lyrics and his thoughts? Do they know that in those lyrics he always talks about the black community’s condition? And when he does that, he uses that word, that word you’re all worrying about. Niccolò, who loves Earl, is singing one of his songs, like anyone would do with a song they like.

Oh, my God.

First of all, it’s… ironic for him to pull up Earl Sweatshirt’s lineage and his music in order to defend this white boy saying the n-word. Because not only was his father a Black South African activist who was raised during apartheid and then was exiled to the U.S., his mother is a Black law professor who specializes in critical race theory! This man… is really trying to say that someone who had these parents would celebrate a white boy… using a racial slur… let’s use some critical thinking… 

Second of all, and I can’t believe I have to say this, a Black person reclaiming the n-word and using it conversationally or in their music is not the same as a non-Black person using it. If you’re not part of a marginalized group, you do not have a say in the conversation over using slurs within that group. 

Earl deciding to use the n-word, particularly in order to talk about “the Black community’s condition,” has meaning. It has power, it’s reclaiming a tool of oppression. A white Italian - who a lot of people are claiming don’t know anything about the origins of the word and thus the plight of Black Americans - using it is, at best meaningless and at worse intentionally racist. Ludivico wrote Niccolò as a character who just loves Earl Sweatshirt so much. But he wrote him as a character that loves him just on the surface - just enough to think it’s okay to use this racial slur and to “understand” the message of violence against Black people but not enough to not use a derogatory word that is actual violence against his favorite artist. Sure. 

Third of all, to me, it really didn’t seem like Niccolò was singing along to anything. He literally just says the line and then stops talking as him and Martino do their puppet fight. But that might be another argument, one that… is quite pointless. Because it would have cost him (Ludivico writing him) nothing to not say that line. To skip the n-word, to play a different song, to do literally anything else in that context. But it was, apparently, so central to Italian culture and so important for Niccolò to use this word that it had to be included. Alright.  

Are we really trying to attack Skam Italia for something like this? Do you really think we’re racist or insensitive? After all we’re doing? After all the work we do every day so we can bring values and themes that - for now, in Italy - have always been touched in such a superficial way?

“After all we’re doing”

Ludivico, what exactly are you doing for Black people and other People of Color? 

Like… he really fixed his wretched fingers and typed this out as if he literally had not made the choice to A) cast a white Non-Muslim woman to play literally one of the most iconic Muslim WoC in media history B) erase one of the few Black characters because “he didn’t have a large role,” instead of, you know, CREATING a larger role, as is his right, as a SHOWRUNNER WITH CREATIVE POWER, and casting a host of white boys instead C) has probably whitewashed their version of the Balloon Squad as well. Because yah - I’ve seen enough GIFsets of the “Martino watching a video of Niccolò playing piano” to see that there’s a bunch of white boys in the background laughing and joking with him. And it’s true; you can’t tell someone’s ethnicity by how they look. But the evidence so far is pretty damning. 

This is all to say that this a show… that has consistently refused to work with People of Color across the board. Not only in hiring actors, but it’s obviously not hiring non-white crew members and refusing to engage with fans of color. His constant excuses about why PoC cannot be involved make zero sense. He acts as though these characters are sentient beings that he has no control over instead of fictionalized people, wherein he and the other showrunners have the power to cast whoever they want, make them say whatever they want, and make them do whatever they want. 

And it’s obvious that him and his stans are the ones who are interacting with this entire situation is a superficial way. People who are calling it out, from what I’ve seen, are saying hey, this isn’t cool. Maybe we should have a nuanced dialogue for why this white Italian shouldn’t be saying the n-word. While he and his stans are crying white tears and saying this is our culture! Shut up if you don’t understand it!

In Salvini’s Italy, do you think that the main problem is a boy who loves American rap and sings a song with a word that people don’t like? Amazing.

This sarcastic deflection, I think, is exactly part of the problem. No one is saying that this is the end all and be all of racism in Italy. But using a word that is inextricably linked to physical, emotional, and spiritual violence is a part of the problem. It’s not “just a word”; it’s dehumanization. And that dehumanization of white people using it against Black people is exactly what has lead to issues in “Salvini’s Italy.”

The lyrics from American rap songs are full of inappropriate words. Shouldn’t we use them? The characters can sing them, but should they stop before that word? 

That’s… no one is saying not to use Black music lmao. But literally exactly what people are asking for is to not have non-Black people saying the n-word. If you’re not Black DON’T SAY IT. Why is that so hard.

These attacks don’t hurt black people, because they are smart enough to be able to appreciate the fact that we’re giving space to a rapper who’s really good and pretty capable of talking about their condition. 

The absolute condescension of this, honestly, makes me think that he has never interacted with a Black person in his life. Ever. And I’m not even trying to be funny. 

Look. I’m not claiming to speak for all Black people, especially in a globalized world. Our diaspora is huge and complex due to our histories of enslavement, colonization, imperialism, and violence. I’m sure there are Black people who literally don’t care about white people singing/saying the n-word. I’m sure that the decontextualization of it makes a lot of folks think it’s no big deal. And that’s fine. But again - that’s an intracommunity issue.

To have this white Italian proclaim to speak for Black people - not only here but also in proclaiming to know what Earl Sweatshirt is and isn’t okay with - is another form of dehumanization. Because it’s a catch-22. If we’re “smart enough” to not be mad at this racial slur being used, then what does it mean for those of us who are mad? That we’re unintelligent? That we’re not focused enough on the “right issues”? Once again, the lack of critical thinking is astounding. As if folks can’t understand that this is a big deal along with other forms of violence that are being enacted. 

But having this white boy say the n-word has nothing to do with “giving space” to Earl Sweatshirt or his art. It honestly just feels like a self-insert fantasy. It feels like a moment wherein these white people, once again, feel like they have claim to Black culture and language without having to reap any of the repercussions of that culture. And now once they’ve been called out, they want to be defensive. They don’t actually care about our communities or struggle. Idk how many ways I can say it but a marginalized person speaking truth to power and reclaiming a word is not the same as an oppressor using our language. 

They hurt me. You don’t know how much.

Ahhhhhh, the icing on top of this shit cake. 

Because this is the real root if it, isn’t it? Ludivico doesn’t like that he’s been called out. He doesn’t like that people are angry and that they have something to say about his racism. He doesn’t know how to just take the L and admit that he’s done something that’s messed up and has hurt people. Because in his mind, this is a personal attack. 

This is… this is Vilde dropping out of the bus because everyone “hates her” after her obnoxiously racist and Islamophobic “Muslim gangster world” monologue. But the funny sad thing is, this is a grown man. This isn’t a fictionalized teenager who doesn’t know how to confront her own prejudice. This is the root of why I’m so annoyed; because once again, we have a white person centering their own feelings over the heart of the issue. 

I’m sure I have more to say, lmao, but I am getting tired. 

TLDR; IMO, Niccolò saying the n-word with no repercussions was bad and Ludivico’s obnoxious “explanation” only made it worse. 

- mod Jennifer

[janiedean]

(1) Can I just say I hate all this Freddie Mercury biopic wank with a passion? Like, this hellsite went from "Queen is one of those boring 'classic' bands all whites are obsessed with bc they won't even consider new music by diverse artists u.u" to "WWRY is clearly a song about rebellious queer youth, cishets don't touch Queen u.u" after someone pointed out Freddie's ethnicity and sexuality, to "why aren't they making Freddie gay in the biopic!!!11" and... whatever they're whining about now.

(2) And I HATE looking at all this bs and thinking "fake fans", bc I'm pretty damn sure that by most standards, *I* count as a "fake fan", too. I mean, most stuff I know about the band's history is actually stuff about Freddie, thanks to a few documentaries centered around him and my mom, the long-time fan with a big crush on Freddie who introduced me to Queen when I was a kid. Hell, I couldn't even name all their albums or anything needed to be considered a "true fan". But ppl on here... ugh. (3) It's like they're really embarrassed bc they were called out on mistaking "woke" stuff for "unwoke" stuff, and now they have this desperate need to prove their ability to discern wokeness by getting offended about something they don't even care all that much about, as loudly and dramatically as they can.

HAHAHAHAHA.

okay so, tldr: I hate this discourse and I honestly hope that it dies within two weeks out of the biopic for a whole lot of reasons amongst which the ones you said, but like, this discourse actually highlights a shitload of issues with the usual tumblr discourse which I will gladly go into now because I’m fucking tired and this movie isn’t out yet.

now, premise: while I don’t think that true fans are a thing - at most there’s casual fans or in-depth fans but I mean, a fan is a fan so I don’t believe in the *fake* fans thing..... the problem here isn’t that they’re fakes. it’s that they aren’t fans. period.

other premise: from what you’ve said you’re a casual fan which is normal and you DON’T count as fake I mean if you like them and listen to them and know something it’s basically being a casual fan same as I am with idk the rolling stones, I like the famous stuff, I have the fundamental records and I like them when they’re on but that’s it.

but, yours truly is a Not Casual Queen Fan in the sense that a) I got into them when I was seventeen and I’m thirty now so thanks it’s been a while, b) I own all the records, c) I own a decent portion of roger taylor’s/brian may’s solo records (and I have listened to all of them that I couldn’t buy), d) I went to see them live once (k it was with paul rodgers but nvm guys not my fault if I wasn’t born in time for freddie) and I love queen’s music and I’m also fucking cishet and you know what? these people Are Not Fans and they should stop pretending they are and just stop making themselves look like assholes.

SPECIFICALLY:

the movie’s not out yet and I’ve had to see FIFTEEN ‘FRIENDLY REMINDER TO ALL CISHETS THAT FREDDIE MERCURY WAS GAY (at least a couple said he was bi and they were less asshole-ish) AND POC AND IF YOU DON’T KNOW YOU’D BETTER LEARN NOW HAHAHAHA YOU THOUGHT HE WASN’T. spoilers: every fucking casual queen fan who has bothered to buy three records knows that. yes, also the cishets. like, as someone who went from VERY CASUAL (ie: I know three songs) to NOT CASUAL in the span of two months I can 100% assure you that before getting into queen the usual preconceptions are that freddie was gay and that queen = freddie + three other people. the first three things you learn when getting into queen are (more or less in order but it can change) that a) the band was actually brian may + roger taylor first, b) that roger brought freddie in because they knew each other already, c) that mary austin was a fundamental person in freddie’s life and that she was also brian may’s ex and knew him first before they got together, d) the members’s backstories including where freddie was born, so like...... this idea that CASUAL CISHET FANS wouldn’t know that freddie was a) not heterosexual, b) poc is just something a NON-FAN would say because guess what, most queen fans even at a casual level are 100% aware that freddie was a) not heterosexual, b) not ethnical british. and saying that OMG CISHETS DON’T KNOW it’s ridiculous because guess what, everyone knows and if they have no idea they do, though luck, we did;

(spoilers: I also am 99% sure that those ppl have no idea that roger and brian actually sing on the records and composed a shitload of the music and queen =/= ONLY FREDDIE but okay)

they have no idea that rock music in the 70s/80s was not so heteronormative and was not the cishetmalething they think it is. like, please look at led zeppelin (ie THE PEOPLE WITHOUT WHOM YOU WOULDN’T HAVE HEAVY METAL) and tell me they were heteronormative. like, you saw robert plant? yeah, me too. and the thing was that queen were revolutionary in the sense that they brought an operatic/theatrical approach to the music that no one tried before but guess what, the point is that they made it sell. the thing that I would like tumblr Woke People to grasp is that what made queen groundbreaking as far as Wokeness goes is that they managed to sell and become the monster-moneymaking group they were (while keeping things quality) with a frontman who was Not Heterosexual, Did Not Try To Pass For Heterosexual One Day In His Life and Never Shied Away From It. like, idk if people are aware that while the scene was way less heteronormative than they think it still wasn’t the most openly talked about topic around (I mean guys elton john did marry a woman at some point X°DDD), but going around in the seventies flaunting your non-heterosexualness around and selling millions of copies making your stage persona a selling point of your music wasn’t exactly common. like ffs one of the most famous queen songs has a video where for 3/4 of the time they’re in drag and the other part has freddie performing with the royal ballet (and guess what the song was actually written by john deacon and the idea of doing the video in drag was roger taylor’s and none of them as far as we know is Not Heterosexual, but never mind giving the rest of the band some credit when it came to Not Caring About Heteronormativity) and fine, that video was banned/controversial, but it still was a huge british hit and it’s in the top five queen songs Everyone Knows. and tbh I’m terrified of that video being shown in the biopic (which it should since the works was from ‘84 and they stop at ‘85) because I’m 100% sure that those people have no idea it exists and when they find out how long is it gonna take them to decide that IT’S PROBLEMATIC? I mean, Woke Kids on here think the rhps is problematic, I’m shuddering at the thought of what they’d think of the i want to break free video;

actually a lot of us cishet queen fans might have had a wake up call including, er, finding out certain preferences, thanks to either their music or their shows or their videos (*cough* I 100% assure you that watching roger taylor in drag was what made me realize crossdressing was my thing for good like I knew before but I didn’t actually put two and two together until I saw that video and went like ‘............. AH WELL SHIT THEN THAT’S IT FAIR ENOUGH’), and a lot of us cishet queen fans who weren’t, like, strictly playing to heteronormative rules back in the day found a lot to relate to in their music even without being queer ourselves and guess what I’ve never met a single queen *fan* who could give less of a damn about freddie’s ethnicity or orientation (as in: everyone was a-okay with it) regardless of their background. that was what made them groundbreaking and extremely important as well, because they managed to be that kind of record-selling records-breaking band while not shying away from having a Not Heterosexual frontman AND Not Heteronormative Heterosexual Band Members Who Also Didn’t Give Two Fucks About Their Lead Singer’s Sexuality so going like OMG NOW WE’RE GONNA TEACH YOU THAT FREDDIE WASN’T HETEROSEXUAL BECAUSE WE’RE WOKE is ridiculous because dearest susan, we already knew and we already were woke about that and to us he was the frontman of a band we liked for a bunch of reasons;

also I don’t think people realize that freddie was a role model/example for the entire next generation of rock bands frontmen even in genres that had zilch to do with him - I mean guys AXL ROSE had a hero-worship for freddie and sang bohemian rhapsody at the freddie memorial concert WITH ELTON JOHN and grn really aren’t the same exact sphere as queen jsyk, but if you look at axl on stage esp. when he was younger? guys. it’s obvious. like you can see the influence. but lmao, now ALL the very cishet(-ish) singers who OPENLY SAID FREDDIE INFLUENCED THEM DIDN’T KNOW ACCORDING TO TUMBLR DOT COM?

LIKE, fuck’s sake, one of freddie’s major accomplishments in that sense was to ending up being a role model for younger singers in a genre where heteronormativity is way less common than everyone thinks BUT where not many people esp. back in the day would be open about their sexuality because it still was a taboo-ish thing -- like, gender roles were a lot more blurred but you wouldn’t hear many of those people admitting openly they were bi or gay or Not Heterosexual and the entirety of the rock scene especially mainstream but also not was entirely fucking aware of it, do these people think THE FANS wouldn’t?

also, we will rock you was WRITTEN BY BRIAN MAY AND IT WAS ABOUT A FUCKING ENCORE WHERE THE FANS SURPRISED THEM AT ONE SHOW IN LIKE MID-SEVENTIES which already shows that They Know Nothing because if they think freddie wrote all the queen songs then it’s already obvious they have no fucking clue about how queen worked as a band because all the members contributed something (guys john deacon wrote at least two of their major hits, roger taylor sang on all the records along with brian may and if you hear the back harmonies on ‘39 he goes way higher than freddie and a part in seaside rendezvous has both him and freddie mimicking other instruments with their voice and you wouldn’t know if no one told you first, brian may wrote a SHITLOAD of music for queen and it was an all-four effort, not just freddie + three other generic british dudes for fuck’s sake) so like, anyone saying that is already giving ample proof that they have no idea;

now of course you can interpret it as whatever the hell you want, but assuming that all of queen’s music that might relate to queer issues was written by freddie ABOUT QUEER ISSUES (this when freddie’s main topic of interest was... not really discussing his sexuality especially in the seventies like again, I want to break free is one of the queen to-go songs everyone brings up when it comes to that topic and IT WAS WRITTEN BY SOMEONE ELSE and the video concept was THANKS TO SOMEONE ELSE) just shows that a) you don’t know shit about the band’s history, b) you’re not a fan because you didn’t even bother to look it up on wiki, c) you’re trying to look woke at all costs;

they have NO FUCKING CLUE that most people in the 70s/80s/90s in the business were NOT politically correct according to their standards LIKE LITERALLY NO ONE WAS;

goes unsaid they probably haven’t listened to one full queen album from beginning to end not even the greatest hits.

tldr: I hate that they don’t seem to realize that things existed before 2005 and that music in the 70s/80s COULD and WAS diverse and *woke* already before they were even born, I hate that they decided that ALL CISHETS DIDN’T KNOW when thank you I think even my damned parents know and they don’t listen to rock music, I hate that they decided that queen APPARENTLY DIDN’T HAVE A FANBASE BEFORE THEM (lol) or that that fanbase didn’t understand them (triple-lol), I hate that they’re reducing freddie to his sexuality when he didn’t want that in the first place, I hate that they’re falling into THE MAIN MISCONCEPTION AROUND ABOUT THIS BAND as in THAT IT WAS FREDDIE + THREE OTHER PEOPLE and not an all-around group effort of people who were friends and deeply loved/respected each other and put the same share of work into it, I hate that they moment they see the movie and are introduced to the actual music/the actual story they’ll MOST LIKELY find problematic things to wank about because like hell they wouldn’t and I hate that they’re basically pretending to give a fuck about a band that I love and have loved dearly in a very non-casual way when they actually fucking don’t.

fucking hell please never let anyone make a biopic about either springsteen or led zeppelin or other people I actually like because this is bad enough, I don’t even want to think of what tumblr ppl would say if they knew anything about any rock artist of medium-large fame back in the day. peace.

[hollowphobia-casual]

FRIENDSHIP IS MAGICAL VI:  THE AGE OF SUPER ULTIMATE CHRONICLES OF FRIENDSHIP ORIGINS ZERO

So with Tumblr bursting into flames and most of the artists I know and respect trying to abandon this ship like rats escaping the titanic, I felt it was best if I moved this from my usual December the 25th to... NOW, Because well I worry that many people on this might not be here by the time 17th passes and my eternal dying love to those I care about will be unheard and what kind of person would I be if I didn’t remind EVERY.SINGLE.ONE of my friends how important and special they were to be and what makes them fantastic, So yeah depending on the state of tumblr after Dec 17th this might be the last one, or I will just have to email all of you INDIVIDUALLY. @mistercrowbar CROWBAR! HEY! So, you’ve been on this friendship list since..., we have been friends, which is.., a really long time, like I honestly can not recall a day where we have not been friends and during all that time I can’t get over just how amazing you are! Like, Holy shit are you real? Cause I get to a point where, I think this woman can’t improve anymore, and then BAMB! You do! Like Jesus, I’m always just floored by what you put out, I said once before that I strive to be as good as you some day and that has not changed! But now it gets even harder, cause like, not only are you good at art, You go and pull this beautiful disaster out of your head, SAY HELLO TO FUCKING RYYBYN BITCHES! If there was a competition for some of the best DnD characters I have ever seen on paper, I’d vote for Ryybyn every-time, a literal joke character who evolved into one of the most emotional rollarcoasters I have ever seen, who made me DETERMINED, to either play a game with you (And I fucked that up) or a game of my own, just AH!, This character! Like, their design, their character art, THEIR STORIES! OH GOD DON’T GET ME START ON THOSE, CAUSE YOU BEAUTIFUL GENIUS! You took comics from your session and made a BOOK! That I want to buy! I WANT ONE, BUT CHRISTMAS SO, ARGH!  FUCK YOU SANTA! And!

And.. If you were not just fantastic enough already, incredible artist, attractive, funny, nerdy as all shit, super space wizard, DND and now.., now.. FUCKING HOME OWNER, like how, why, when, what! I know you moved into a house, like, Holy shit you moved into a house, but holy shit you OWN a house, it’s yours, you can paint dicks on the wall and no one can stop you! Your Independence it just, floors me, every-time, here I am questioning everything about myself and myself worth, and you go buy a house, and release two books IN THE SAME YEAR. I said how I wanted to follow in your footsteps, become as great as you, WELL APPARENTLY I NEED TO PICK UP MY GOD DAMN FEET CAUSE I’M TOO FUCKING SLOOOOW. I am SO grateful to meet someone terrifyingly amazing and best of yet, they think of me as their friend (For now) Just.., Please, don’t ever stop breaking down walls and plowing forward, you fantasticly insane woman you. @nightmargin So, what feels like, not that long ago we were chatting about Ralph and OCTs, as well as other kids who are incredibly prone to accidents and damages and now, well, YOU HAVE A FUCKING HIT GAME THAT I CAN’T LOOK LEFT OR RIGHT WITHOUT SEEING IT’S LIKE BOOM! Go to MCM OneShot Cosplayers, Look at youtube videos either seeing your characters in the background or I’m seeing people playing your game! I went on a Discord chat and I saw someone sporting a Oneshot icon. I’m just, so, happy and proud and amazed by the how far you have come, it’s just, you were always a talented person, your comics, story and artstyle was fucking fantastical, I was soaked into every second of it, wanting to learn more and more with each new picture and then, just to put the cheery on this cake, you did music, but not just any music REALLY GOOD MUSIC, I remember going to your gallery on DevianrtArt just to listen to a song over and over cause it was so good, like, damn and now, you are like, HUGE, it’s insane, like seriously, someone took time to make a 3D model of your character, holy shit. I’m lucky to get fanart, but what this is, I just, my friend is amazing person, and I couldn’t be more happy for her if I tried, you should be proud of yourself if you are not, take time and just let the well earned reward sink in, your hard work has defiantly paid off. @blueskyesartic Okay, so like, You are amazing, I dunno if I’ve ever said it enough, but, you just are, there is nothing about you that I’m not awed by, you are just, so fantastic in my eyes, I dunno if that's putting you on a pedestal or not, but fuck it, this is my sappy list so I say what I want! Your art is beautiful, you yourself are just one of the most fun people I have had the pleasure to talk to and I miss it so damn much, are trivial pointless conversations that spiraled endlessly into jokes and deep discussions, are critical thinking on story telling and art in general, it was amazing, but.., either you are never alone or I’m not and, I hate that, I’ve missed you so much it sucks, like.., I have these great memories of us talking, drawing and spending time together, these perfect moments in time that I will cherish to the end of my days, cause I know you are going to become something, I can feel it, but I might end up left behind. I just wish I could spend more time, talking, chatting and just being with you, you are amazing and I’d love to run on to you on a stage at a convention, like we joked about, but no matter what happens, you need to keep being brilliant, every second of every day, you have to continue, cause you are great and everyone knows it. @taplaos HOLY SHIT HAVE YOU SEEN THE SHIT THEY CAN MAKE, IT’S FANTASTIC, LIKE, HOW DAMN!  Everyday I feel like I’m seeing new and more amazing designs for T-shirts created by you and it’s just like, wait, this is tappy right, maker of wonkey eye, how when, OH MY GOD, Your art was always so bright and colourful but, damn you’ve improved so much I feel like I need to stop and just soak in how much you’ve improved, cause damn, can I just say damn. I am so proud of how far you have come and I can’t wait to see what fantastic designs you come out with next, you are amazing Tappy, don’t let anyone ever tell you other wise! @dansome0203 AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA, GOD DAMIT, I have both talked to you a lot this year, but also not enough, or maybe I have, or maybe I haven’t, I dunno, but god dammit I wanna talk to you more, but you are hardly online when I am it’s so GAH! You are just, that amazing my friend that you are driving me insane! URGH, I feel terrible there is like, a shitton of things I wanna do for you, draw your characters being namely one, but I haven’t had time and just, URGH. But more importantly, the reason I wanna do all these things is just cause, you are fantastic, and I don’t just mean the way you draw boobs (mostly), you are such a kind fun person with so much great creative energy I just wanna, get inside your head, I have such mixed feelings on one side I really wanted to be in that DND game you started, but it’s also just a delight seeing the stuff that comes out of it, the curiosity building from it, that funny ass video you shared with us. Everyday I think I’ve seen the limits to your skill, charm and wit, then some how you change everything with new ways of being all that and more, it’s a tad exhausting. All I can really say that this year has been fantastic in what time we have spent together and I just want to spend more, I can’t wait for the next opportunity I’ll get to do so, maybe I should try asking you into a call or something, I dunno, please just, keep being you and keep being fantastic. @flunafloon & @spesiria & @spookydrawsI I didn’t wanna do this, but... I’m sorry, you guy are fantastic people I love your work, I love each one of you but I just.., I struggle to keep up to date with my own life let alone my friends, but three were such big important parts of me it feels.., no I feel like a shit for basically knowing nothing about what has happened, I use to message you each frequently, keeping up to date on your art, your lives and now.. Fuck I hardly even see you on my dash and I just, fuck, I can’t.., You are all amazing people, I should of been a better friend, I want to say I will be but it’s getting harder and harder and I don’t want to disappoint you, I respect and love the three of you too much for that, I’m sorry for being such a useless shit, you guys, are fantastic and leagues above me. @doodlediddy MY FRIEND IS HAVING A BABY, MY FRIEND IS HAVING A BABY! LIKE, HOLY SHIT YOU HAVE ANOTHER PERSON GROWING INSIDE YOU, LIKE WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, It’s beautiful, horrifying and just, I can’t believe that someone I know, someone I met on the internet, had close conversations with and more or less stopped me from doing something, VERY stupid, is going to be a parent, like, WHAT. While I am above the moon happy for you and your bundle of joy, I do know this means we probably aren’t going to chat as much, which hasn’t been that much as it is, which REALLY super sucks, I miss you, like, OH so much, I miss are chats, are discussion.., heh, I still remember when I stayed up super late just to send you Toradora, one video at a time, god, that was so funny and really bad for my sleep schedule actually. Still the best romcom ever. I really miss you, I’m so happy for you, I hope we get to talk again, love you, you big christian mamma. @lou0 There are many people I would attribute to me being here right now, from saving my life, to being a mentor and some just being shoulders to cry on, but none of them.., were the person I obsessed over.., wait let me rephrase that. When I started as good old Clock-workable, making steampunk rip offs of Unknown Peron’s Karl, you were some I admired, you were a kind, passionate and amazingly creative artist, AND HOLY SHIT MAH, SHE’S IN BRITAIN, I COULD POSSIBLY MEET THIS WONDERFUL PERSON. Sadly that never happened, and I’d openly admit I feel very intimidated talking to you, I dunno why, shame? Guilt? I feel like, I don’t belong, that I’m not good enough for you, that there are better people who deserve your attention that I do, despite just how, fun you are to be around and just how important of a person you are to me, so I admit it, it hurts, me seeing you down low like you are, I wanna pick you up, be the motivation you were to me, but I also have to accept that I can’t be, all I can do, is try to be a good friend and be there for you. You are, the most amazing, creative person I have ever known, I’ve wanted to Commission you for long, to collab with you, to have one of my characters drawn by you, hell just be noticed by you, cause you are just that important, I mean, I dunno what I am saying here exactly... You said you don’t see a point, but you to me, your are was the biggest point, it was bright, colourful, sexy, scary, amazing and just filled with so much character, everything you drew and draw has just so much life to it, I wanted to capture some of it and have it for my own. I dunno if what I am saying is meaning anything, but your art reflects you and to me, you are colourful, sexy, scary, amazing and just filled with so much character, every second has been delightful and if you will let me, I would love to continue to enjoy it more. @jabbage I find it funny how, no matter which minecraft server I joined, I never got as far in building a base, than I did on your server, as short lived as it was and despite no one ever joining it, I never joined a server where I got as far as I did on that server, like, I dunno how but there was something about it, maybe it was the fact that I really wanted to build that clock tower. I miss that, I hope you are well, you beautiful human being, It sucks, cause I know that, out of everyone, i feel like I spent time with you the least, which is stupid, cause all I can think of, when talking to you is good memories, which is like saying I stopped talking to you because you were too nice, which is dumb, the truth is i just got busier, and busier and it sucked. Cause I remember thinking how I really wanted to get o know you, cause you were a fun person, I’ll try to be better from now on, cause deserve it, you are a fantastic human being, smart and caring, not just trying to butter you up to make up for my.., terribleness, but I will try, to be better, for you. @shadowscarknight You fantastic mate and I know, it’s been hard, I’ve not been avoiding you, I really haven’t, but, it’s just hard you know? The way, that ended it probably wasn’t easy being you, I dunno if you even know why the two of us stopped talking to each other, hell I dunno why, but that isn’t your fault, specially after you commissioned me, which again, I happy you enjoyed it. You are a great guy, funny, witty, charming and your designs, fuck off they are that good, but you do come up with a lot of them, but then again you get inspiration and you do what you love, so no one can fault you on that, unless your making another ask blog that you won’t update, hehe. I promise to talk more, cause I’m so proud with how you are improving, cause just like, wow, every time I see you look away, it just gets better and better, I should really ask for some tips off of you, cause damn mate, your leaving me behind. I hope you don’t stop being fantastic mate, You are a joy the world can never do without. @totalobelisk I know where you hang out!... So it’s not excuse that we haven’t been talking as much, fuck mate I’m sorry, I don’t hate you or anything, no, fuck no, you are great, it’s me, I’m just.., fucking useless to be entirely honest, I’m terrible at communicating with people and I’m surprised you haven’t just unfollowed me from everything and cut all ties, cause, fuck, I’m just so.. I’m sorry, you are a fantastic guy and we’ve been friends for too long for me to neglect you like this, I’m so sorry, I hope I can start talking to you more to make up for it, or just hit me up sometime so we can chat, cause you deserve better from your friends. @velkro-bitch & @fivirr & @a-trashcan-in-a-corner Am I cheating by grouping you three together, yes, maybe... BUT I ALSO HARDLY GET TO SPEND TIME WITH YOU GUYS AND IT FUCKING SUCKS, CAUSE YOU ARE ALL BEAUTIFUL LOVELY PEOPLE AND I WANNA SPEND AS MUCH TIME WITH EACH OR EVERYONE OF YOU! (Or maybe I’m just secretly trying for a four way polyamory) But Jesus fucked by a pogostick guys, how can you three come into my life, be amazing shits and then just leave me! You are all such wonderful, thoughtful and delightful human beings that every second with you felt like an eternity, I’m a naturally defensive person, I have a lot of barriers in place to keep myself emotionally safe, and all three of you tore those down! (your gonna have to pay for that) AH, And to make it worse, when you shmucks do show up it’s very late and I gotta go to bed, REVOLVE AROUND MEEE DAMMIT, I WANNA SPEND TIME WITH YOU GUYS, it’s so hard I love being with you all, but it’s so infuriatingly difficult, I feel like giving up half the time, but I also don’t want to cause I love you all so much, god you three drive me mad, but it’s what I enjoy about you guys and I hope we do get to spend more time together. @phantomdotexe I honestly do not know where I would be without you right now, for you it may seem like all you did was re-post my art, credit me and commission me, but you also introduced me into a large friendly community that I didn’t even think I had the right to be in, I was and still very much am the new kid to all this, but everyone you introduced me to accepted me with open arms, artists and writers whom I thought I’d never get the chance to speak to talk to me casually nearly everyday. It’s all thanks to you! You amazing person you, I know you beat yourself up, ALOT, when you really shouldn’t, you are so amazing, not just in your writing talents, but in your world building and characterization, but even then that isn’t there is all to you, you are.., the most, charismatic, funny, playful and down right enjoyable person to be around, you are infectious, you have touched so many people in so many ways that you manged to build a community of friends and fans who want to build upon your foundations, I dunno if I’m even speaking the right words now, haha.., But you are fantastic, so when you struggle we all want to help, we all want to see you grow as a person, as a writer and an artist, you brought so many wonderful people together, you should deserve to see how truly wonderful you are. @horrorjuice Speaking of people I don’t deserve to be friends with, I’m just.., fuck where do I start, well, I will say it’s not entirely my fault you are hardly ever on Discord and I don’t like Facebook, but Bubby, my bubby, I miss you! I miss your explantions, your ideas, you concepts, your worlds, your beautiful bubby brain like GAH, I remember our chats, are long wonderful chats where your dog would bark loudly, the beautiful horrible slobber monster that he was. I miss you Bubby, I really do, I wanna chat and talk like we use to, I wanna hear your beautiful amazing ideas and see your brilliant art work, god I miss you, but I hope you are well and that you are being just as fantastic and brilliant as the day we first met, you wonderful human being. @valbey-the-girl Fuck you, you lovable asshole! How dare you be such a wonderful insightful human being who has had my back for so long, I remember when we became roommates for University as a somewhat after thought, we hung out but we were not exactly ‘friends’, but now, I dunno how I could of survived with out you! You are a wonderful source of humor and opposed thinking that I enjoy, you agree and don’t always agree with me, which is the best sort of friend, someone who can challenge my values and viewpoints, but at the same time doesn’t belittle me..., mostly, you twat. I am so happy that we’ve stayed friends for as long as we have and that I invited you more into my world, with regular games of DnD and other video games, as you prove to be time and time again a great person I love to have at my side. I hope we get to hang out again person to person, because I miss you mate, talking on chat gets stale fast specially when your friend is as great as you. @whatever-i-feel-like-rebloging I struggle, so hard to understand us, that it hurts cause.., I want to be friends, but I just always feel like I’m being pushed away from you, and it hurts. I’ve spoken to many friends about the troubles we have had and many of them have said to drop you, but I don’t and I dunno why, maybe because, I’m scared? Or maybe cause I’m unsure how or, perhaps I’m just very hopeful? I remember a time where we’d talk all the time and I loved it, it was great, we never discussed or mentioned how we didn’t like each others thing, we joked, we flirted and it was fun.., but now, all we seem to do is give each other little comments and snap at one another and I hate it, I hate it more than anything I can imagine. I wanna be your friend again, I wanna laugh with you, joke with you but, I feel like I’m just being singled out and removed, that I am something of mock and ridicule, which I hate and I dunno what to do with myself or you anymore. I hate, disliking this, I just.., I just wish I had never liked you, because I feel like that was when everything went down hill, cause we use to be such good friends, but now, I feel like we are more, acquaintances.., it sucks. @grittysugar HOLY. FUCKING. SHIT. That’s all... ... .. Okay okay, but fucking seriously, you went from some gal drawing redhead accident prone children flying goats and tall noodley men with green hair who probably shouldn’t be to fuck. TO DO FANTASTIC CREATIVE ANIMATIONS ON YOUTUBE, LIKE HOLY, GUM DROP SHIT, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAA-, I wanna kiss you I’m so proud, like, GAH, I still can’t even put it into words, like it was..., uh ... .. . EIGHT YEARS AGO, that we were opponents in a tournament on the internet and now your, I’m so happy for you, and I SUCK cause I haven’t bought any of your merch yet... (but I will), And if I can I’d love to see you at a con so I can give you a big ass hug, but that might be another, I dunno, ten years. Also I’m a shit head and it’s occurred to me I have never asked for your Discord information, which now is probably high protected FU-, God I dunno, if you still count me as a friend, or even a blip on your radar, but I just wanna say, I’m happy and just, SO proud of you, I want you to keep growing as a person, an artist and just, be fantastic. @clauseart OH MY GOD HOW DO YOU KEEP YOUR COMIC GOING! And shame on me for not staying in touch more cause holy shit, you are on fire, your colours, designs, panels it’s just, WOOF, it’s blowing me away, I’m so proud for you, every time I see you post a page, all I think about is how I need to catch up because my comics currently in the dust, while yours steams ahead. I honestly can not wait to see where things are going, and to see how you go with it, I may not be the best of people at times, but I’ll be damned, if I won’t try to follow along the best I can, cause you have only just begun and I’m so excited to see you be yourself and just wow everyone around you! OH and Please most some stuff from your DnD game! I’m curious about what you guys are up to these days, hehe. Be fantastic. @funktrash The girl was essentially my fan when I was a nobody is doing a webcomic better, quicker and more on time than me, AND IT’S GREAT, like, AH! I know, you beat yourself up, it’s part of who you are for such a long time but, you have to realise, YOU ARE AMAZING, you are fantastic! Like, seriously, you have a comic, your is beautiful and just, WHAT, I remember back when we made an rp group based on this thing! And now it’s something I can read and enjoy, and I’m enjoying it, seeing these characters whose stories I’ve only had the chance to glimpse at now brought to life with your beautiful colours and wonderful sense of humor, timing and pacing, it’s just, YES! I’m so amazed at you, you are fantastic, don’t ever tell yourself otherwise, cause you are a star, a bright burning beacon of awesome! @mortooncian-art FRIEND!... FUCK! Okay, so I’ve always known you existed forever and I’m always loved your work, I even followed your webcomic! Until it wasn’t a webcomic anymore, but sadly I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT YOU, expect that you are so funny, your art is fantastic and I’d love more than anything to get to know you more! Cause like, I see your art, these lovely illustrations filled with so much character and life, I just wanna do the same, (If I only wasn’t very busy) Like, I enjoyed your stuff so much that I regularly looked forward to going to twitter just to see what you posted, either a comment or art, cause it was the highlight of my day, and I HATE social media with a passion, but you made me really excited just to see your posts, and I know a person who can do that with just their art is probably twice as exciting as a person, and I really want to get to know you more! So I hope you keep being a wonderfully fantastic person, whom company I get to enjoy in the future. @sunshinedrago This woman, single handily got me back into watching shitty anime again, and I love her for it, God dammit you are such a fucking fun person to be around, despite the damage to my ear drums I do enjoy our conversations from nerding the fuck out, to tearing things apart. I may not always seem that happy at times, but I’m naturally a miserable person so you will have to forgive all the BS you went through with me, but god you are intoxicating in your positivity, the characters you make are enjoyable to playground with, the ideas you come up with are very surprisingly engaging and your commissions, equally detailed and time consuming, haha. Like Jen I dunno how I have lived with out you so far, you are such a conversational delight it makes me feel like I’m a teenager ago, howling loudly in laughter as I watch awkward as shit anime and actually enjoying my life, but whats great about you is not just the fun, it’s also the insightful and thoughtfulness to you we all grow attached to, you have a great way of handling peoples pain, that I have only seen in a few people, being to be compassionate, reasonable and always to get a chuckle at the right time, I dunno how you do it. But please don’t change, it be a travesty if you did. @tuz-ohtopia TALK TO ME MORE! Tuzoh, you are a very busy guy like.., stupidly busy the amount of work you put into your DnD sessions are stupidly amazing and the stories you have crafted are fantastic, all I want is to share in it more, to listen to how you work, you scheme and plan, your creative thoughts, everything. But you are busy, which is what both I love and infuriates me about you, you have such a driven determined work schedule it puts me to shame, I never wanna see you slow down, because I know you are doing something that is just, wonderful, but at the same time I wanna talk to you, get know you and build on our friendship, I feel like I’ve talked about you to more people then I have ever to you and it sucks, cause you are an awesome dude. Not trying to pity you and say just stop everything for me, I’d never want that, I’m just, so enthralled by your creativity that I wanna get to know the inner workings, maybe work with you. But no matter what happens please just keep doing what you are doing my friend, you are a delight and fantastic treasure, I can’t wait to see what you do. @knifetotheback WHERE ARE YOU! no seriously I mean it, you appear like, every now and again, but you are hardly ever around and it sucks, cause you are a fun wonderful person. You were always a delight to talk to and it sucks that we don’t get to chat as much, I hope you are alright and that you are still having fun with what you are doing right now, we miss you, I miss you. Keep being wonderful, where ever you are with whatever you are doing. @nickala OKAY, So, feelings, down in words,..., fuck this is hard, I dunno how to describe you, like shit, you are amazing, but beyond that, you aren’t just an amazing friend, you are a unique friend, a special friend, no wait, that sounds romantic, what I mean is.. I feel trapped so often, I hate it, my brain is flawed and wrong, I know I shouldn’t think like that, but I can’t help it, I speak and I make people mad, upset, annoyed or just.., I hate it, it’s the part of me I dislike the most, I just want to talk to people and say “HEY, you are beautiful, keep it up” But I can’t, but you, understand me, you help me so much with these thoughts and understanding the world in a way others could not and for that I will never not be thankful, but at the same time I feel shit, because, I know you are struggling, I wanna help so much, I wanna be there to make it easier, to help you through this rough patch, but I can’t I dunno what the right words to say are cause this isn’t a thing where one solution is the right solution.., but you have to realise you are amazing, your creativity is outstanding, the designs and creatures you create are far greater then anything I could ever come up with and I wish I could be on par with your skill in monster design and anatomy. You don’t have to compare yourself, to others cause you are already in a league others couldn’t even dream to reach, if only you could focus on that and draw strength from it, and I wish I could help you do that, but all I can say is that I will be here, the best I can, even if it’s terrible. @thelovelyghosty Is it possible to meet someone who makes you very calm and also incredibly nervous at the same time, YES IT’S YOU! I love you Jen, I am so happy that I get to have you as a player in my DnD games as well as be a human being I get to call a friend! It’s amazing just how open you are to everything as well as critical thinking, you are a breath of fresh air compared to people who only speak with their feelings and not just their thoughts and I enjoy every second of our conversations, yes even the dumb ones! I feel like you complete a part of social circle that I didn’t know was missing and that’s why it hurts so much I hear what you have to struggle through, but you amaze me, because despite all the bullshit you are still here, you are still a person whose company I get to enjoy, your strength is awe inspiring even if you don’t see it yourself, not to mention your brain, have I gone on about your brain enough, cause it’s fantastic! I wish I could just ramble on with you for all day and night, cause I imagine the discussions we’d get up to come be fantastic. You bring a fantastic fresh view you everything, even seen in your character, the Amazing Shield, they’ve hardly spoken but like you they have left an impact on me and everyone else that I doubt anyone will ever forget and as such it wants me to return in kind, you are an outstanding person and I want you to keep being outstanding, so I’ll always be there for you, no matter what, day or night. @altoblt5 Okay, first off, you are too adorable, so I will just have to kill you and second, thank you for joining my DnD game! I won’t lie, I was super fucking hesitant at you joining as I’m not good with people at all, expect all these friends above this text, ignore them for a moment. I am hesitant as shit, I’m nervous and I worried that anyone could be a potential threat to me or others, but you, came fucking tap dancing in with a stupid, lovable infectious character and personality that just, melded so well it made all my worries go away and the more I’ve gotten to know you the less regrets I have about you ever joining our game, you’ve only improved it by adding a dynamic to the group that we didn’t know we were missing from the start! I hope as we go on we can stay in touch, possibly do more games together and just chat more, cause we should really do some other stuff outside of DnD. @riyamilea I’ve been following you since Rise and I have to say, I’m so happy I did, and I was fucking ecstatic when we got to play in a DnD game together, like H.O.L.Y SHEEEET, that was fun for as little as it lasted, but I guess it was invertible a bit, there were signs, but out of it I finally got to make you my friend, and that's an experience I am so proud of cause like, YOU ARE AMAZING, you are so fun and insightful, I just, I’m so excited that I get to talk to you, cause just like, GAH I dunno how to put this into words, you are just, brilliant, that’s it, you are brilliant and I can’t wait to spend more time with you and hopefully, we can play more DnD together in the future, in the mean time, just keep being fantastic.