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imaginesupply · 4 years ago

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Homecoming - Chapter Six

(I know it's Henry and not Sy in the photo, but it just fit too well with this chapter.)

Summary: The day has arrived, Captain Syverson is going home. For good, this time. He is going home to a civilian life he can hardly remember and a wife he barely knows, with memories of the war still fresh on his mind. Love might not be able to heal everything on its own, but it’s a good start.

Genres: Romance, drama.

Story warnings: Smut (always fully consensual), mentions of PTSD and nightmares and mental health, angst, hurt and comfort, fluff, mentions of war (minor), mentions of cheating (minor), mentions of pregnancy (very minor), police appearance (very minor), violence (very minor).

Notes:

It’s my first time writing for one of Henry’s characters and I’m unsure I did Sy’s character any justice.

This is a Capt. Syverson x OFC (Ada) story, written in 3rd person POV but OFC’s physical description is very limited so it could also be read as Capt. Syverson x Reader, I think.

English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes. Proofread, but not beta’ed. We die like men and all that.

Timeline is a little wacky: The movie takes place in 2003 and the U.S. forces were withdrawn from Iraq in 2011, but I never set a precise date because I don’t think it’s essential for this story. However, some elements might not be realistic because if we set this story in 2003: Phone cameras quality was not as good as it’s now, but for the purpose of the chapters, I will need you to imagine you could film great videos with your flip phone haha. Plus, it says Sy is coming back after being deployed for more than three years which makes no sense unless we set this in 2006 or later. I am asking you disregard any time inconsistencies.

Also: I am not American. I only lived in the US for six months and it was in the Midwest, not Texas so please bear with me if I write something stupid.

Finally: This will be a Christmas fic and I intend to post the last chapter (there will be seven in total) on or before Christmas. However, religion is never mentioned in this story and the Christmas-sy elements of this story are limited to family gathering, gift giving and tree decorating.

Chapter Six starts after the cut. (Chapter Five can be found here.) Let me know if you wish to be tagged in the last chapter or if you wish to be removed from the tag list.

I will post a master list soon and put the link in the comments to make it easier to navigate.

Chapter 6

Chapter warnings: Smut, Christmas themes, mentions of therapy, embarrassing moments.

Ada didn't mind being woken up with soft fluttering kisses on her neck. She definitely didn't mind starting the day with the tantalizing rub of his beard on her sensitive skin and the hard press of his torso against her back, their legs entwined and his morning erection nuzzled against her butt.

What she did mind, however, was when any of this happened at the butt crack of dawn. Ada opened her eyes just enough to read 6:50am on the alarm clock.

"Sy," she groaned, stopping his wandering hands with hers, trying to trap them beneath her breasts. "Hold that thought for later, okay?"

She heard him chuckle behind her, his chest vibrating against her body as he freed his hands from her weak grip. "Later is for putting up the Christmas tree and the decorations," he teased, his right hand now drawing circles low on her stomach.

Ada groaned again, wanting to fight his tempting touch but unwilling to move away from his body heat. "I'll get up at 7:30." Those were the last words out of her mouth before she had drifted off again.

When she woke up once more, forty minutes later with the blast of her alarm clock, her back was cold and the smell of breakfast wafted through the air, filling her nostrils. Damn Syverson and his military sleep schedule! She had taken all her days off to spend them with him only to wake up even earlier than when she was working.

With barely open eyes, Ada threw on his shirt that hung on the chair and slowly made her way downstairs, following the scent of pancakes. She found Sy in front of the stove, just finishing up the last one before setting it on the huge pile of pancakes that looked fluffier than clouds. Ada had quickly learnt that while Sy was a disaster when it came to the art of cooking, he was the master of pancakes and barbecue.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," he greeted her and then smirked when he noticed her attire.

"Morning captain," she mumbled, walking up to him before patiently waiting until he leant down so that they could share a kiss. It always made him laugh when she did that: the adorable pout on her face when he didn't bend down for a kiss fast enough was worth waiting the extra second every time.

They ate in relative silence, mostly because Ada definitely wasn't a morning person, but the fact that Sy had a habit of stuffing his mouth full of food also played a role. When she was done eating, Ada pushed her plate and glass away, and brought her knees up to her chest, hugging her legs on the chair. She eyed her husband intently, waiting for him to finish eating with a grin on her lips.

"Why are you looking at me like that, darlin'?" Sy asked, eyebrow raised suspiciously before taking the last sip of his morning coffee.

Ada blushed, suddenly looking bashful. "Well… I was hoping we could go back upstairs and continue what you started earlier," she admitted in a tiny voice.

Sy laughed, a booming sound that filled the entire room before a shit-eating grin spread on his lips. "Tough luck, darlin'." He got up from his chair, standing in front of her across the narrow table. "Should have thought about that before falling asleep on me earlier."

Ada's mouth fell open. The cheek on this man! And what made it worse, was his huge smile that made him look like a very amused bear, with his hairy, tempting chest. He was toying with her. "Are you really saying no to sex?" She asked, cocking her brow. Sy wasn't really the type to turn down-

"Yes, no sex." He stated, suddenly looking very serious. "We have to head to the store to buy decorations, then put up the tree and hang the lights outside." Ada tried her best not to laugh. He sounded as if he were explaining a major, life or death, mission to her – not Christmas preparations. "You’re dismissed but I expect you back here in fifteen minutes, dressed and ready to go." With that, he turned around and started gathering the plates and silverware to put them in the dishwasher.

"Yes, sir."

Ada knew better than to talk back. First, when he had something in mind, it was nearly impossible to talk him out of it. Second, she hoped that the sooner they were done with this, the sooner she could get laid. Third, he had used his Captain voice that somehow always managed to make an obedient little soldier out of her.

Though, rationally, she also didn't want to make it any more difficult for him. He had confessed to her a few nights ago why he'd felt so uneasy when they had gone grocery shopping: the gondolas were too tall which led to lots of blind spots and the amount of people meant he couldn't rely on his hearing sense to detect potential danger. 'It just screams ambush,' he told her.

Ada couldn't quite imagine what he must have experienced that a supermarket or a store would translate into danger, but it was not her place to question him. Instead, she had kissed his forehead in bed and offered to start doing their shopping on her own. Sy had promptly refused, suggesting they simply go early in the mornings, when there were less people and less distracting noises.

Now at Target, she was immensely glad she had gotten out of bed, the sight alone was worth it. It wasn't everyday you'd see Sy pick up a bunch of Christmas tree baubles and inspect each one of them carefully before determining which ones were worthy enough to make it to their living room. Ada sneaked a picture for safekeeping and then decided to send it to his mom as well. Family dinner was fast-approaching, and she'd seize all the cookie points she could get.

"Darlin'," Sy called, catching her attention. He was holding up an inflatable Santa who, instead of carrying gifts, dragged a bag full of liquor bottles and sported a drunk grin on his face. It was tacky beyond words. "Do 'you think we should get this, or will it just upset the neighborhood kids?"

Ada grimaced but tried to disguise it with a smile. She’d die before letting that thing on their lawn. “I think a neighborhood dog would tear it to bits within a second," she lied, trying to appear apologetic.

"Yeah, you're probably right."

°°°

The lights were up. It was a much quicker process with Sy's help. It was also the occasion for Ada to just sit back and relax because he was adamant, she shouldn’t step on a ladder to help. Instead, she had a glass of bourbon waiting for him for when he finished. It was 5pm somewhere after all.

"You said we had a tree!" Sy's deep voice reached her from the basement.

Ada threw her head back, sighing, before hurrying downstairs after him. "Yes, it's in that box over there," she pointed at a white cardboard box behind a couple of spare tires.

"Woman, it's tiny!" Sy complained, picking up the box and setting it down between them. It was about as tall as her. It was not that small.

"It's the one I've used every year since I moved in. It's pretty enough and doesn't take up too much space,” she defended.

In front of her, Sy exhaled loudly through his nostrils before rubbing his beard. She knew that move. It's what he did to remind himself she was not a soldier under his command, but his wife, and that he better measure his words unless he wanted to sleep on the sofa.

"Look, darlin'," he said calmly, enclosing her small hands in his much bigger ones. "This is my first Christmas home with my wife. I refuse to put up a minuscule, fake sapling in my home and call it a Christmas tree."

Ada was slightly taken aback. She didn’t know Christmas was this important to him. Though it was true he had been overseas on Christmas the past two years, so she could understand where he was coming from with wanting this Christmas to matter. Besides, it was endearing when he put it like that.

With a nibble on her lip, Ada gave in. "Okay. They're selling trees in that parking lot by the pharmacy."

Sy slowly shook his head, a mischievous look on his face. "No. We're going to get our own pine tree from the woods."

You gotta be kidding me, she groaned internally.

°°°

Ada had no idea where they were. It hadn’t been that long of a ride, but there were no more houses or streets to be seen around them, just endless fields and a forest. It was only when Sy took a right turn, that she started spotting cars and what looked to be a very colorful barn which had been converted into a cozy boutique.

“Where are we?” She asked, staring out of the window as Sy looked for a place to park his truck.

“The Dallagher’s ranch,” he replied. “They do a corn maze and a pumpkin patch in the Fall, and in the Winter, you can pick up your own Christmas tree. My dad used to take Claire and I here every year.”

Oh… This was a family tradition. No wonder Sy made such a big deal about having a real tree for Christmas.

Once out of the car, they walked hand in hand through the dirt road until they reached the makeshift counter made of hay where you could get a handcart before heading out into the man-made pine forest and select a Christmas tree. Most people she saw, however, were already returning the handcarts and happily carrying their trees to their parked cars.

The old man by the cash register seemed to recognize Sy instantly, smiling warmly as he greeted him with a one-armed hug. Ada realized it was the ranch’s owner. “I haven’t seen you in years, Jack!” The old man exclaimed with a laugh before turning to Ada. “And who’s this pretty lady?”

“This is Ada, my wife,” Sy said, introducing them. He watched with amusement as Ada stumbled as the old man hugged her without a warning, taking her by surprise.

“Well, it’s great to meet you, Ada,” the man nodded once he had retreated, and then turned back to Sy. “Should I be offended I wasn’t invited to the wedding?” He teased.

Sy was already wrapping his arm around her shoulders, chuckling. “To be honest, Dallagher, there were no guests at the wedding,” he replied, amused at the way the old man frowned in a confused manner at that piece of information. “Actually, we came here to get a tree.”

“Of course!” Dallagher immediately turned and ordered the young boy in overalls to fetch them a handcart. “What size did you have in mind?”

“Something around seven feet,” Sy said, looking pensive as Ada looked up at him suspiciously, trying to figure out how much seven feet converted to in the metric system. Once she’d done the math, she pulled at Sy’s flannel sleeve to protest – that was way too big, it’d take up the whole living room – but the Dallagher’s grandson was already handing them the cart and leading them to the entrance.

“Trees that big are at the very back of the forest, you’ll have to walk a little.”

This turned out to be quite an understatement. Ada felt like they had been walking for literal years. While they had still come across other people at the beginning, mostly families, they were on their own now – that is if you didn’t count the many squirrels that kept appearing out of nowhere.

She stopped, grabbing the back of Sy’s red tartan shirt so he would be forced to pause as well. “Can’t we just take one of these?” Ads suggested, gesturing at the countless trees all around them. They were all pretty enough and considerably taller than her.

Sy huffed, biting his lip in amusement as he looked at her dispirited face. He’d told her she should probably get changed and wear more comfortable shoes before they left home, but she had insisted she wasn’t going to change clothes just to get a goddamn tree. “These are only around six feet, darlin’. And,” he paused, eyeing the trees more closely, “they’re not Nordmann firs. I want a Nordmann.”

Ada sighed defeatedly, but nodded all the same, starting to walk again when Sy took pity on her. “Do you want to sit on the handcart?”

The change on his wife’s face was instant, the frown lifting into a smile as she climbed on the cart and sat down in the middle, evening out her weight for him. “Is that better, darlin?” He asked teasingly.

She turned her head back just to make sure he saw her rolling her eyes.

By the time they reached an area with Nordmann trees that Sy considered nice and big enough, her butt was sore from the conjunction of the hard, wooden surface and the uneven ground. She wasn’t even sure she had made the better call or whether it would have been better to suffer in her new ankle boots instead.

“Which one is better?” Sy asked, pointing at two pine trees that looked virtually identical to her.

Ada shrugged, almost saying that he should choose before realizing how much time that would take. The man wasn’t picky about food, bedlinen or even the pillow he slept with, but apparently, he had to make sure he brought home the most perfect tree. She still couldn’t wrap her head around that. “The left one,” she said finally.

“Which one? Your left or my left?”

Breathing in deeply, she decided to just point at the tree she was talking about. Sy nodded thoughtfully and grabbed the saw he had brought with him and started to work on the tree. While she had been most eager to get this whole thing over with, it became an entirely different story now as she dreamily stared at her husband getting to work.

With most of his back facing her and one knee on the forest’s soft ground as he started sawing off the Nordmann fin, Sy looked absolutely delicious. The red flannel shirt unbuttoned over his white t-shirt and the jeans made him perfect sight with anyone with a lumberjack fantasy. Ada had never considered herself as having such a kink. A uniformed soldier, or even better, a captain? Hell yes. A strong, rugged husband capable of her breaking her in half? Also a big yes. A lumberjack? The thought had never crossed her mind in the past but there was no point in denying it now as she sat back on the wooden cart, watching Sy carefully saw down the giant tree.

She was wet. Horny. Aroused. You name it. It also didn’t help that they hadn’t had sex that day. Yet.

"Sy," she whined, just loud enough to get his attention, while swinging her legs in the air like a child.

"I'm almost done, darlin'," Sy responded, not bothering to turn around to look at her. "I want a nice, clean cut."

Yeah, and she want a nice, dirty fuck. Pouting, she watched him for a couple more seconds as he knelt in front of the base of the tree, deciding from which side he should bring the saw to the trunk next in order to make it even.

That was when Ada decided she was tired of waiting. Shuffling quietly, she slipped off her wet panties from under her dress and rolled them into a small ball before throwing it at her husband. It hit his left shoulder and rolled down his chest. Grinning wickedly, she leaned back on her shoulders and enjoyed the view, the muscles on his back shifting as he picked up the garment off the ground. If this didn't get her laid, nothing else would.

"Ada Metz Syverson," Sy groaned out her full name slowly, his voice even deeper than usual. He got back up on his feet and turned to face her, looking stern.

Suddenly she didn't feel so brave anymore, not when he had crossed the distance to her in two determined strides and went to tower over her small, sitting frame. His jaw was set, and his eyes were a darker shade of blue than usual. Ada moved her eyes down his body, her eyes pausing at the defined pectorals on his chest before sliding lower. He was definitely hard, the bulge on his jeans prominent.

"Just remember you asked for this."

She wanted to ask what this was supposed to be, but he didn’t give her the chance. “Legs,” he ordered, patting his shoulder as he came to stand just inches away from her. Almost unconsciously, she obeyed his order, her ankles coming to rest on the front of his shoulders, her feet framing his neck. “That’s a good girl,” he praised her with a quick kiss to her right calf before his large hands moved to the front of his jeans, just over the protruding tent and began undoing the belt and snap.

From this angle, Sy’s cock looked even bigger, the shiny glans flushed a deep pink. Ada swallowed tightly, her legs already shaking with anticipation and he hadn’t even touched her yet. Pumping his shaft with his right hand, Sy brought his left one to her core, rubbing the rough pad of his thumb over clit once or twice before sliding it between her folds. She was a dripping mess. Sy smirked when she keened eagerly at his touch, enjoying his ministrations until he pulled his hand away and brought it to his mouth, licking off her slick. “It’s good you’re so wet already because I just can’t wait to take you, darlin’.”

He wasn’t lying when he said he couldn’t wait. The next thing he did, was grabbing hold of his throbbing, hard cock and guiding himself into her. Ada moaned loudly at the intrusion, drowning out Sy’s own growl as her walls clenched around his cock, trying to get used to the abruptness and depth of the penetration.

“Fuck, Sy!” She cried out, not even sure what it was she wanted. “Don’t stop,” was all she could muster as he ploughed into her like there was no tomorrow, hitting her pleasure all at once.

He knew they were being too loud. They might be alone, but they were still out in the open air, and yet he just couldn’t find it in himself to care – not when she felt this good around his cock and her noises only heightened his fervor. If someone happened to stumble upon them, then they’d simply be in for a premium show,

It wasn’t long until her legs started shaking almost uncontrollably up in the air, prompting him to remove one hand from his steely grip on her hip and wrap his arms around her legs to keep them steady as he continued with jackhammer thrusts. “Are you going to cum for me, darlin’?” Sy panted, groaning out the question between clenched teeth even though he already knew the answer.

Ada didn’t manage to reply, the first waves of her orgasm already coursing through her when she moaned his name. Her hips canted up, her body tensed up like a bolt, and Sy knew he was done for right then. Her warm walls squeezed him impossibly tight inside of her, milking the cum right out of his cock while he fought to keep his balance as pleasure overtook him.

They came down from their heights slowly, chests heaving. Sy lazily removed her legs from his shoulders, massaging the strained muscles on her inner thighs before he set her legs down. This woman would be the end of him. “That was…” he panted, bending forward over her body to kiss her forehead, unable to find a proper adjective to describe what had just happened.

“Yeah,” Ada breathed out, nodding slowly.

Sy ended up having to carry her and the tree on the cart back to his truck because there was no way she was able to walk straight after that.

°°°

They finished decorating the giant tree. Ada had to admit it looked pretty although the red and gold decorations clashed with the color theme of their living room. She handed Sy the newly purchased baubles one by one – he was the only one capable of reaching the top.

On their way back home, she had somehow managed to convince Sy to stop at the therapist’s office – the one she had found had the highest ratings on Google. They had booked the first available appointment, which was just after the New Year and Sy had made it very clear to their secretary it was just a ‘testing appointment’ and that there was no need to set aside time slots for follow-up sessions yet because there was no guarantee he’d be back. His reluctance was palpable, but Ada was glad he was giving it a try at least. And if he didn’t like, then they’d figure out something else.

In the background, their wedding video kept playing and she wondered for how much longer she'd have to hear the sound of camera flashes as the chapel assistant took way too many photos of them in the most cliché poses you could imagine. Sy has insisted they put on their wedding video since they’d never gotten around to watch it and it fit the season, according to him. Slowly, the annoying sounds began fading away and Ada sighed with relief. Watching herself on TV sparked too much embarrassment in her.

"Hand me the big one with Rudolph, will you, darlin'," Sy asked from behind her, still meticulously decorating the tree.

Ada nodded, searching for the bauble he had in mind. It was still in the shopping bag, she remembered, lifting it off the floor to dig inside it.

Ada froze as a female chuckle was heard, unconsciously gripping the glass ornament too tightly in her hand. "Not that fast, Captain."

Behind her, Sy frowned. "What did you say?"

"Tonight, I'm in charge," she heard her own voice say - no, it was more like a purr.

"Shit!" Ada cursed loudly, letting the bauble fall back inside the bag and she hurried to the TV, her worst fear confirmed.

Sy followed her quickly, stopping just behind her, his hands on her shoulders. "Is that from our wedding night?" He asked slowly, his eyes locked on the screen as he watched his younger self being tied up to the bedposts by his wife.

"Yes," Ada cringed, her face a painful grimace. "I didn't even remember the sex tape."

"Me neither," Sy swallowed loudly, admittedly rapidly becoming aroused at the sight of his Ada doing a striptease on camera. She wore that red ensemble with the garter belt.

"I think the assistant never really ended the video after our wedding, only paused it and we later continued filming in the hotel instead of starting a new video," Ada commented, now understanding what had happened. How they’d even came up with the idea of filming a sex tape on their wedding night, she didn't know. Alcohol had probably played a part in it.

Sy was still staring in awe at the TV, enthralled by the sight of his wife deviously edging him, her hips swaying slowly, when her words slowly registered in his head. "Didn't we send copies of the video to our families?" He stammered, his voice uncharacteristically quiet and hesitant.

Silence fell between them as they both realized they had been dumb enough to send copies before watching it themselves. "Fuck!" Ada barked, seizing the remote to pause the video. "We sent that to my parents, your parents, your sister...," she listed, her face losing all color.

Suddenly, the sound of Sy's deep laughter filled her ears. She turned to him, aghast. How could he find this funny? This was peak cringe! She’d be one needing therapy after this!

"You know, darlin', watching this video was the first time my parents ever saw their daughter-in-law, before even meeting you in person." Sy explained, shaking his head with amusement.

Ada was mortified. No wonder Mr. Syverson had seemed on the verge of laughter the first time they'd met and Helen had given her the side eye. The woman had a USB stick in her home with an hour-long video of Ada fucking her son. "You know, Sy, this wedding video is also the first thing my parents saw of you." He stopped laughing abruptly, his face red, all amusement gone.

They both sat down on the couch next to each other, slowly coming to terms with the fact that pretty much their whole families had seen this, and never said anything, probably keeping it as an inside joke.

Sy broke the silence, his large hand reaching to rub her naked thigh. "You know, I don't think we should be embarrassed," he said, prompting her to stare back up at him, eyebrow raised dubiously. "The way you tied up my arms really enhanced my biceps and you looked adorably hot like a vicious kitten from hell."

°°°

@colourmeinblue @hail-horror-queen @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl @kmuir1 @madbaddic7ed @coffeebreathy @purplelove75 @summersong69 @helenaellie @rn7rocks

#henry cavill smut #syverson smut #henry cavill x reader #syverson x reader #henry cavill x ofc #syverson x ofc

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little-red-toyota · 3 years ago

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Final good bye to the fandom

TW//Trauma, triggers, nsfw, sexual themes, rape, domestic abuse e.g.

This is gonna be a long ass post…

It has taken me a while to get emotionally strong enough to do this, as I will have to think back at some traumatic events from my past to address some of these things. That's why I waited until I got home from vacation with my family, as it will seriously affect my mood and mental health, and I want to be near my doctor and therapist, just in case.

And also, I know that the majority of those reading this will invalidate me and tell me I am making things up to clear my name. So, I literally have to torment myself to write a blog post people will just brush off as bogus anyway. But I will do it now that I am in safe surroundings. Then it will be off my chest, and I can finally move on. If people will continue stirring up the past, it will be their problem, not mine.

I think I should write one last blog post where I address everything. I have left the TTTE-fandom, but I will write that one as my final goodbye to the fandom. I just have to find out everything I've been accused of so I can properly address them all in order. I might leave out details of my life that is too hard for me to open up about. I know most of you will just invalidate me anyway.

1. The Stepney fic and glorifying rape.

2. My mafia-AU.

3. The Darin incident.

4. Being a pedophile. (Where do they get this from anyway??)

5. Running the NSFW-blog.

6. Drawing penises/boobs on trains. Drawing age-regression art.

Is there more?

Ah... yes! Faking my own suicide, of course!

7. "Faking" being suicidal.

8. Having the audacity to survive and go on living.

9. "Making up" my past trauma to justify writing fics to cope with it.

10. Being a nazi for being interested in WW2 history and for being Norwegian and having so-called nazi-letters in my last name (actual letters of the Norwegian alphabet).

11. Putting a white-supremacist flag (the actual flag of Norway) on my porch on family birthdays and our national day.

12. Being a danger to my daughter.

Anything else that needs to be addressed? What else am I being accused of? Send me a dm and I will add it to the post.

Okay, I will bump the Stepney fic down a bit as it is the most traumatic thing for me to address, I will save that one for last.

2 and 3. The dark au/mafia au where I gave some TTTE characters some rather dark and unpleasant character traits, and the whole incident with Darin and the pedo-Salty was addressed in this blog post written by my husband last year, so I am not opening that can of worms again: https://little-red-toyota.tumblr.com/post/623743183795470336/in-light-of-recent-events

Even the thing about Toby cheating on Henrietta is addressed there.

As for the au, I never fully explored it as I started losing interest in TTTE around the same time. I found other things to enjoy and TTTE faded into the background and the au was dropped before I even wrote any stories, apart from the one about Toby and Henrietta.

Some people claim, like this lovely individual, that most of the characters were rapists and pedos. No, not most. Only one of each. And I did not write more than one story about rape and suicide. Where does this person even get that from? Someone who told someone who had heard from someone who might have heard….?

Don't spread rumors unless you are sure that they are true.

Anyway, it's all addressed in that blog post in that link. I don't see how this mafia au is any worse than other dark post-apocalyptic or violent aus. It mostly was about the diesel mafia and their illegal businesses, not about sex, even if it did occur now and then. I find the substance abuse in it to be more problematic tbh…

4. Being a pedophile.

I don't even know how to defend myself against this one, as I don't even know why people think I am pedophile. They only throw the accusation out with no backing evidence, so I have no idea where it comes from or what it is that makes people think I am one.

Apart from one claim that I had faved "porn" alongside "strangers'" baby photos on DA. I addressed that earlier though. As DeviantArt doesn't sort what you click "like" on, it all ends up in the same folder unless you actively go through it and sort it into categories, which I don't bother most of the time. It also doesn't say WHEN it was added to your faves. So, I can have faved an artistic nude on Saturday, and then faved my friend's family photo on Thursday. It's not like I actively search for porn, get all steamed up and then look at pictures of children. WTF.

The few children I have faved are not from complete strangers, but long-term friends of mine. Yes, it is possible to have friends on the same website. I have actually met a lot of my RL friends through DeviantArt. I posted photos of my daughter when she was a baby, they would fave it and congratulate me. So, I did the same when they had a baby. As simple as that. Nothing weird or perverted about it. Due to people doxxing me last year however, I deleted the photos of me, my husband and my daughter from DeviantArt, so it's no longer there.

Porn isn't allowed on DeviantArt anyway. The nudes there are so-called artistic nudes, and for the most part I use them as pose-references when I draw as it is easier to draw a pose using a nude base and then dress them up once you got the pose right.

"The very naked" centaurs I have faved. Well, I like the mythological creature Centaur. And as far as I know… they do not wear clothes, so how are they NOT nude? Look it up, it's a horse body with a human torso instead of horse head. I don't see them as sexual, but what do I know? Maybe YOU do?

I have no sexual interest in children whatsoever.

5. Running the NSFW-blog on Tumblr and Twitter.

Yes. I was one of six people modding that blog. ONE of six, so I refuse to take the full blame here.

MerciResolution has openly admitted to being the founder, and she recruited me and some others to modify as the confession load became too heavy for one person to handle alone.

The original blog on Tumblr worked as follows: People would anonymously send a confession to our askbox, we would add a picture (sometimes photoshopped) to the text and post it on the blog. Always tagged as NSFW and with proper trigger warnings if necessary! The blog itself was also marked as explicit, so it didn't appear in searches and such.

For us, this blog was nothing but a joke. We did it for shits and giggles. If anyone took it seriously and thought we got off to the stuff that was posted, we apologize for that, but to us it was just for laughs. And we DID laugh a lot, you guys should have seen the weird shit people sent us sometimes!

We had fun and we never thought anyone would take it seriously, so we never thought of writing "joke" in the description or anything. It never occurred to us that it could be anything but a joke.

We also made a Twitter account for it, also locked for minors. But it was quickly hacked, and someone changed the password so we could no longer access it. We made another account and forgot about the old one…

After a while, the original mods started losing interest and the blog (both on Tumblr and Twitter) became less active. That's when a person I had known for years, and wrongfully trusted, came forward and wanted to take over ownership. So, the ownership was handed over to Russalita/Charlie.

That turned out to be huge mistake!

Me and the other mods had more or less forgotten that the blogs existed, when suddenly someone started bashing me and getting up in my arms over it. I got seriously confused as I hadn't been active on it in almost a year. But as it turned out, Russalita had removed the mature filters and made the accounts open for all the see. Even minors.

And as people knew I was one of the mods, they fired their guns at me. I can see why though, so I'm not pointing any fingers here.

I tried contacting her by phone, asking her to lock the accounts again, but she gave me a less than polite response, hung up and then blocked my number…

So, I decided to try to shut the blogs down on my own, trying the old passwords. It worked on the Tumblr-account, and I managed to password protect it, for some reason it couldn't be fully deleted. But the Twitter account had gotten its password changed by Russalita. I was however able to get a new password by logging into the e-mail we had used to create it. I deleted the Twitter blog fully. It can't be re-activated even if we wanted to. It's gone.

But it turns out the old, hacked one is still up and now open for everyone. And this one poses a huge problem as we have no way of getting into it to delete it. Only thing we have been able to do so far is reporting it and hope it will be removed by Twitter. So I only have one thing to say about it: report it.

I am no longer running any NSFW TTTE blog anywhere, nor do I have interest in doing so. So, if you come across one, claiming to be me or any of the other mods, it is false.

6. Drawing penises/boobs on trains. Drawing age-regression art.

People seem to believe I have drawn genitals on trains. I have never done such. Any art on the NSFW-blog with genitalia on the trains were sent in by confessors and was not drawn by me. Most of them seems to have been drawn by someone who goes by the name "The Lance".

I HAVE drawn things for the NSFW blog, but there were no genitalia in those drawings. I drew Frank of Arlesdale looking grossed out by (I don't know what the part is named in English, but it is connected to the brakes of the engine) that stick-like thing on his bufferbeam being wet from whatever the confessor did to him. I drew an over-exaggerated comical pic of a horrified Peter Sam getting his face licked by his driver, who had an enormous tongue. I also did a couple of manips. Mostly maniping engine faces on humans, like the one where Gordon's face is on a less than fit guy flailing his shirt around, and the Arlesdale smallies' faces on a movie poster from Magic Mike. One with Mr.Conductor in a giant bun while Pinchy is applying ketchup on him, for a confession about eating him, I think? I've done some more, but I forgot what it was, I only know I loved making them comical rather than erotic, as I saw the blog as a joke overall.

I HAVE also drawn aheago faces on engines because it looks hilarious. Though I have only drawn them on my OCs and the NRS engines, not TTTE characters.

Point is I have never drawn genitalia on trains. Ever. And I likely never will. It's not THAT much fun drawing NSFW stuff.

I see from this screenshot that a certain MK-Instrumentalist claim that all my personal art is age-regression art and infantilism…

Whose art have you been looking at? Because it's definitely not mine. I have drawn a couple of baby/chibi diesels… But claiming that all of my 700 or so artworks are depicting infantilism and age-regression stuff? I suggest people go have a look for themselves. I haven't drawn that. That MK-guy has been desperately trying to cancel me for ages for reasons only himself know. I don't even know the guy, and he doesn't know me, yet he wants to see me beheaded. Go figure.

I was for a long time bothered by some age-regressor on Tumblr who just wouldn't leave me alone with their weird asks, who tried to force themselves on me and some other artists here. They claim age-regression isn't a fetish, but the shit they sent to my askbox certainly looked like a fetish to me.

I don't want anything to do with that stuff. It weirds me out.

And no. I have never drawn pedophilia or rape art either. This guy can't even make up his mind on which one to accuse me of.

7 and 8. Faking suicide and having the audacity to survive and go on living.

As many know, after the intense shitstorm against me last summer, thanks to Darin, I attempted suicide. I didn't succeed as my husband came home early. I was gone for a few days but returned when a young boy reached out to me for help as he was being groomed and didn't know who else to turn to.

Recently I saw a screenshot where someone claimed me to have faked suicide, and that I just came back after a few days when everything had died down.

Wow.

I am truly sorry I survived.

I don't remember much from those days to be honest, but as the load became too heavy and the bullying too intense, piling up on 30 years of old trauma… I decided to end it. I must warn you guys who might get triggered now; there are detailed descriptions of a suicide attempt. Proceed with caution. People told me I was a bad mother among other things, having had those same thoughts myself (according to my husband, I am a good mom) and people just confirming them, I thought that my daughter would be better off growing up without me. I could have chosen a more effective suicide method, but I was afraid my daughter would be the first to find me, so I wanted it to be clean and look like I was just sleeping. That way it could be explained as natural causes.

So, I decided to overdose on pills. I downed all pills I could find in the house that had a warning triangle on it (strong pain meds etc.) and then went to my computer to delete my online existence, especially the personal data.

As a former paramedic, I should have known better. Because after half an hour, my body started reacting. But not the way I had hoped and wanted. I started retching and almost vomiting. That's when my husband came home from work and found me. He immediately saw the empty packages and knowing my past suicidal tendencies, he reacted instinctively. He put his fingers down my throat and had me puke everything up, then he called an ambulance and had me admitted to the hospital.

I don't remember anything from the days I spent there. But I have been told they emptied my stomach and gave me lots of fluids. I was then assigned a psychiatrist which I am still seeing today.

I was gone for those days because I was in hospital, not because I was pulling some kind of trick and pretending to have ended myself.

So… I am sorry I "faked" my suicide.

I'm sorry my husband saved me. I am sorry the medics and doctors succeeded in saving my life.

I am sorry I survived and proceeded to live on. If I ever make another attempt, I promise to do better.

Why are you guys so persistent in trying to push people to suicide anyway? Do you get a kick out of it? Why do people have to be pushed to that point before you care?

What did we tell our daughter? Simply that I got sick and had to go to the hospital. She took that well.

I've seen a lot of people wonder why I am still around. Why shouldn't I? Does my daughter deserve to lose her mother over some online crap she doesn't even know about? I owe her to live and watch her grow up, to help her with her homework and whatever else a parent needs to do. I also owe my husband to stay by his side, like I promised him the day we got married. Even if I do not wish to live.

I'm sorry I survived, guys. Really, I am.

9. "Making up" my past trauma to justify writing fics to cope with it. And 1. The Stepney fic and glorifying rape.

First… why would anyone make up trauma? It's not like it's a competition to have the worst life, is it?

Sadly, I don't have to make up anything. My life HAS been rocky up until the birth of my daughter. I have been through so much trauma I couldn't even fathom it myself before my therapist listed it all up to me. Until then, I had just been casually talking to her about it, like I would talk about the weather. I didn't cry or get in touch with my emotions even once while telling everything, because I was taught from an early age to never complain, to suck it up and go on. So, no matter what people did to me, I would just smile and go on, even if it killed me inside. I did not want to show any sign of weakness, because then they would attack me. A habit I developed through years of being bullied in school. Never show feelings, just pretend nothing could hurt you, then they would eventually grow tired of it and stop.

Except they never did. They kept going through all my years at school. To such an extent, my boyfriend didn't dare to show himself hanging out with me out of fear of being bullied himself… And as we grew older, he would start cheating on me too. And I kept smiling…

My next boyfriend was a bit older than me, and while that didn't bother me, as we were both well over legal age, it bothered him. We only lasted one year before he bailed out and ditched me out of the blue via an sms.

The next guy… was the one who scarred me for life. Both physically and mentally. A charmer at first of course, until I was trapped. He was unemployed, so he moved in with me, and I paid for everything from food to phone bills. All while he was dating several women behind my back, calling various pay-phone services and in general acted like a manwhore. As I worked as an electrician (also being subject to massive bullying and sexual harassment at work), he would be jealous of all my co-workers and if I ever came home late or worked overtime, he accused me of cheating and was extremely violent about it. He would also isolate me from my friends and family, making me think I couldn't get any other than him. If any of my male friends (almost all my friends are male…) came over, he would give me such hell afterwards, it was easier just to tell them it was a bad time to visit. And after a while, they stopped asking. This guy also demanded sex. Every single day. If I refused, he would punish me, mostly by flogging me with lampcords, belts or whatever else he had at hand. My back is a criss cross map of old, faded scars even now nearly 20 years later. I would have shown you a photo, but I am so self-concious about my body after all the bullying, I hardly even show my face in photos. Maybe one day… but I certainly need more therapy before being able to show naked skin to strangers, even if it's just my back. So I had non-consensual sex with him more often than consensual. It has taken me hours in therapy to even take the word in my mouth and call it by its proper name: rape. I was raped, almost every single day for little over a year, before I found the strength to break out of the relationship and finally throw him out of my house. It all ended when I found some revealing texts on his cellphone, which he was extremely protective of… Texts that revealed that he had engaged in a relationship with a 12 year old girl, and it had been going on for a while. Not only was he cheating on me, but he was a pedophile too. Needless to say, I didn't even let him pack his stuff before I fetched my shotgun and chased him out of the house. I don't know where I got the courage and strength from… but I was furious.

I thought I had gotten rid of him, but no. He started stalking me in public. Hiding behind shelves when I was shopping, his car following mine everywhere I went. I received weird letters in the mail with cut-out letters from newspapers, glued together. On top of all, his creepy, old uncle called me with some rather disgusting suggestions and tried to come on to me really hard. I had to change my phone number, and after coming home to my house and finding out someone had entered my home using a key, only to empty the drawer of my night table, I also had to change the locks of my doors as he had clearly copied the key.

He didn't stop until I got the police involved.

So, when I finally met the guy who would become my husband (or rather, we found out we were made for each other, we had known each other since we were 11 years old), I had major trust issues towards men especially and it took him endless patience and love to break me out of that shell.

But the trauma doesn't stop… or start there.

In the year 2000, on January 4th, I would experience something that made me unable to even look at a train for over 10 years. The Åsta accident (google it). I was a volunteer in the Norwegian Red Cross then, and a paramedic in training. Back then, you were allowed to start training the year you would turn 16. So, I was still 15 when I witnessed the most traumatic event of my life. The day started out calm, we were stocking up the ambulance after delivering a patient to the hospital when we got a call with the code "500", which means "catastrophe". Normally when we get that code it is a rehearsal… so we drove towards the coordinates with the thoughts that this was just an exercise, nothing real… we didn't prepare ourselves mentally… And we ended up in the closest thing to hell I have ever been… The sight of the burning trains, the smells, the sounds, the screaming… I still wake up by nightmares to this day. Though the moment that haunts me the most is when the screaming stopped… because we all knew why… I don't want to go into details, but 19 people died that day. But we also saved 67 people. I try to hold on to that thought. The age limit for starting paramedic training was raised after this, as I wasn't the only one who was too young for an accident of that scale. Today it is 18. A memorial stone has been placed on the site, but I still haven't been able to bring myself to visit it, even if we drive past the site every year on our way to visit family further north in the country. I needed hours of therapy to even be able to ride a train after this. To have gotten to the point where I now volunteer at a heritage railway and is in training to become a driver, is a HUGE step for me. My next goal is to visit the site of the accident.

On to next trauma… A previous employer, a rather large electric company in Norway, whom I worked for 8 years. The first five years were great, we were a close-knit bunch of electricians, and we had a great relationship with the bosses and higher-ups. Our labor union was strong.

It all started changing in 2009 when we got new leaders… and those decided to get rid of everyone who were a member of the union. One by one, they started harassing workers in various ways, trying to get them to quit. In Norway, they need a legal reason to fire you, it's not enough to not like someone. There has to be a good reason to fire someone e.g. theft, neglecting work… Since they didn't have any reasons to fire us, they started making our work lives gradually harder and harder until we would break and find another job. Sadly, one of my co-workers couldn't stand the pressure… He bid us all farewell as normal one Friday and hung himself the following day.. But as I was a girl in a male-dominated profession, I had been taught at an early stage to ignore anything that would hurt me emotionally, just arch my neck and plow through. I kept doing that, despite starting to feel more and more mental and physical pains… even my co-workers pointed out how I was being mistreated before I acknowledged it myself. I tried to tell my boss, but he reacted by treating me worse. So, I went to his boss… and that's when things went to hell. Instead of doing his job and listen, he started harassing me too. He deemed my over-weight a problem, and he started demanding I gave him detailed lists of what I ate and how much I worked out… Completely illegal of course, but by this point I was broken down to the point I thought I was useless and couldn't get another job… so I accepted. He started accusing me of lying about my exercise, so I started training at the gym in the basement at work instead. One day, while I was there, he locked the doors and turned the lights off. There were no windows, no cellphone reception and hardly anyone walking by in that part of the building… I sat there in the pitch dark for 3 hours before I was let back out. I still get badly triggered by narrow, dark rooms and rooms with no windows. To such an extent, I jumped out of a small window on the second floor of a gym when I was in boot camp. I was allowed to train downstairs in the bigger gym with windows on all walls after that incident…

The harassment at work went on for years until I finally snapped, ended up at the hospital and got into therapy for the first time. I don't want to go into depth about what more happened, I just can't… I can't bring myself to write it all. Luckily, I had gotten more education while working, so when I graduated, another company called and gave me an offer I just couldn't refuse. So, I quit my job and never looked back, even if the traumas I suffered there still haunts me to this day.

Sadly, even after switching jobs, now getting a safe job with sane leaders… I started to relax, and that's when all my past trauma came washing over me. And one day, on while driving to work, I had my first serious panic attack. It started as this feeling I used to have at the old company; getting sick to my stomach and having the sense of someone being out to get me… then it developed to breathing problems… and I had to pull the car over. I broke into tears, struggling to breathe, stumbling out of the car to read the logo on its side just to reassure my body and brain that I worked for a different company now and there was no reason for panic. I called my boss and let him know, because he also was a "refugee" from that other company, so he knew what me and several others had gone through. He managed to talk me down enough for me to come to the office to talk to him. That helped.

I got back into therapy. A better therapist this time. But sadly, it got apparent that I could no longer work as an electrician as there was too many triggers. I was diagnosed with PTSD, severe depression, and social anxiety. I'm still working on these and get better slowly.

I have been in therapy for a long time now, and it was my therapist that suggested I wrote fics to cope and "write it out". I tried to make up my own characters for this, but never felt any connection. I was by this time in the TTTE fandom and had met people with similar trauma and pasts like myself, and I started roleplaying with some of them. Me and a girl from UK then agreed to try to rp/co-write a fic to cope with our trauma. We both found it easier to write about pre-established characters we had a connection to, even if it was an au that made it barely recognizable from the original source material. Only the names and some minor things were similar.

That fic was Stepney's Virginity Gets Lost.

Do we regret writing it? No. It helped us write out our traumas and helped us overcome some mental obstacles in out therapy process. Our therapists cheering us on, because we finally managed to break through the hard shell surrounding us. We both cried for the first time in years while writing it, some of it through roleplay, because some parts were extremely graphic and brutal and very mentally exhausting. We had to take long breaks between each writing session, so the fic wasn't written in just a weekend. But we got a lot of darkness out of our minds by writing all this. And we were definitely NOT aroused by it, like this pervert here claims.

It's when you dare to touch and feel the difficult and dark emotions, you can finally move along in the grieving process.

Should it have been posted online?

In retrospect, no. But at the time, we thought it might help other trauma victims, as we also found reading about other people's experiences and fictions touching painful subjects helpful to ourselves. So, we posted it, never expecting it to cause such a controversy 3 years later. In fact, we had more or less forgotten about it until it came back to bit us in the ass. Or rather, bite ME in the ass, as I am getting the full blame alone.

Also, despite what people claim, it was not posted openly for children to read. It was tagged properly and hidden behind mature content walls. If a minor chooses to break that wall, that's not the author's fault. It's the same as watching a movie with an age restriction way above your age, not the filmmaker's fault.

I think MerciResolution puts it nicely here:

"If your problem lies with you KNOWINGLY entering adult spaces when you’re a minor, ignoring all mature warnings that are literally SCREAMING at you “hey, this is what you’re getting into. Are you sure you want to proceed?”

That’s ENTIRELY on you. YOU are the fucking problem.

We’re marking mature things as best as we properly can. If you decide to ignore them, that’s your own damn fault. We’re not your fucking babysitters."

Also, I never posted the story on Wattpad, so if anyone has done that, it's not me. I posted the story on Fanfiction.net, DeviantArt and AO3, that's all. If it's posted anywhere else, it's not done by me.

I had honestly moved on from it when people pulled me back into it.

Other people who have done questionable shit in that fandom are easily forgiven because "they have moved on" or "changed". Yet, nobody believes I can move on or change…?

I had moved on; my interests had changed. But people won't let me, so here I am… Having to defend some crap I did years ago. A fic I no longer have any interest in.

I'm not even interested in TTTE anymore. I have moved on with my own book project now and I would like to focus on that.

So, deleting my TTTE content, whether it was the SFW or NSFW stuff, didn't cost me a penny. It actually felt like a relief. The only downside with it is that people now can't read it and make up their own opinion about it, but will solely believe in what others say, and those things are often seriously bent out of shape and blown out of proportions to such an extent it's barely recognizable.

If people claim that Arry and Bert rape Stepney in the fic, they have never seen it or read it. That's not what happens. That's just an assumption made by looking at the title and knowing there is a rape/torture scene in it. But I'm not gonna tell who the victim is or who performed it, because this is the only way I am able to tell who has actually read the fic or not, who is just trying to spread bullshit and who is actually telling the truth. The person in that screenshot, has no idea what he's talking about.

Does SVGL romanticize rape and abuse?

No, not in the least. It's described as the horrible, heinous acts it is and is in no way meant to be cute or romantic and definitely NOT something anyone should get off to. If anyone finds it sexy, that's their problem, not the authors'. If anything, SVGL might romanticize suicide, because one of the characters isn't able to cope with his trauma and chooses to end their life. Which is something I considered doing myself when I was in the darkest pit of depression. So, I apologize for maybe romanticizing suicide. The following chapters describe how friends and family handle the loss and grief.

It also describes a toxic relationship, where one of the parts struggles to get out of it. They eventually manage to break free, but it is not easy. This can easily be translated to my previously mentioned relationship, as it was my way of writing out my experience about how hard it is to break out of a relation when your partner has broken you down to the point where you no longer believe in yourself and your self-worth.

The last chapters start to gradually become brighter, as both our lives started getting better too. But we never really wrote the end because we both lost interest in writing TTTE content by that time and just left it hanging.

I'm not the only one who has written NSFW TTTE fanfics out there. But it seems like violence and murder is more acceptable than sexual things? I do wonder how brutally mutilating children's show characters are more tolerable than sexually abusing them. Neither should be okay.

Some content creators hide behind "it was a joke". I have been told that such topics that SVGL touches upon shouldn't be joked about… so I didn't do that, and yet it was wrong? So how should such topics be treated? Be hidden like it's a shame, like in the old days when rape victims were told to suck things up and keep it to themselves? When those subject to abuse didn't dare to speak up because people would judge them?

I think it is important to talk about these subjects and why they are so problematic. Victims shouldn't have to hide their trauma; they should be allowed to talk openly about it without fearing judgement.

Some of you claim that writing isn't a good way to cope… You're trying to dictate how trauma victims deal with their trauma, and that's a dangerous path to walk down. Nobody handles trauma the same way. You might have your thoughts on how you would react, but you'll never know until trauma hits you… and you might not react the way you had expected or planned. Trauma messes with your head and you won't be able to think clearly. It makes you do thinks you normally wouldn't have done and can make you act out of character. So, do not judge people without having been in the same situation yourself. Ever.

Someone wrote that I have "more problems that just a rape".

Read that again.

Just a rape.

This person does not know how damaging a rape can be. And if you made it this far in this post, you know I didn't only go through one, but several. Not just by my ex, but also being ambushed while I was walking home from a party, and later; a co-worker forcing himself onto me at a building site. I can't go into depth about them all, I just can't.

Just a rape…

"Just" the feeling of not being in control of your own body and your own decisions. "Just" being robbed off your dignity and self-worth. "Just" having someone intrude into your private zone, tear your clothes off and claim your body against your will. "Just" feeling how your life force leave you as you realize that fighting against it won't help you, and you silently give up and just lay down waiting for it all to be over. "Just" spending hours in the shower, scrubbing your skin until you bleed because you can't wash the filth away and you keep feeling dirty no matter how much you clean yourself. "Just" waking up at night, after having relived the scene again in a nightmare. "Just" looking over your shoulder wherever you walk because you heard something or thought you saw something or simply because someone is walking behind you. "Just" the fact that you'll never feel comfortable walking alone at night again or have someone walk behind you. "Just" never being able to relax because your body constantly think you're in grave danger. "Just" a rape…

That's such a neck-beard thing to say. Someone who clearly think of other people's bodies as property or things. Not taking into consideration that we are living, breathing individuals with feelings. And that having another person violate us isn't something we like or that we'll easily get over. We want to choose who we give ourselves to, nobody should be forced. We didn't ask to be raped. We didn't want it. We didn't like it.

Rape is trauma.

Yes, we should have chosen other characters for the story, but we did what we did, and it cannot be undone now. So, if the only thing I will be remembered for in the fandom is that ONE fic, instead of all my other content, that's what it will be. That's what people chose to. I'm moving on.

10. Being a nazi for being interested in WW2 history and for being Norwegian and having so-called nazi-letters in my last name (actual letters of the Norwegian alphabet).

*sigh*

This is something that could only happen in America, isn't it?

Some people don't bother educating themselves. The "nazi-letters" you guys are talking about is actually part of the Norwegian alphabet and has nothing to do with Nazism or white-supremacy to do at all. The Norwegian alphabet has 29 letters, the three extra is æ,ø,å or in capital letters: Æ,Ø,Å.

We can't help it if some morons over in the US abuse these letters as symbol of their twisted mindset.

Yes, my name contains one of those letters. It is my name… and I didn't choose it. It is a common Norwegian name.

As for me being a Nazi?

Those who knows me knows that I am as far from a Nazi as one can get. I despise Nazism with all my heart.

But the reason some people choose to believe so… was that some guy who has no hobbies or life went through every single fave I've made on DeviantArt since I joined the site in 2006, which is well over 20000 faves. And he found a few Nazi-characters from a web series I was following about ten years ago. I am very interested in history and especially WW2-history, so I found that particular web-series interesting and faved some artwork related to it. What this guy failed to notice is that I also faved the Allied characters… That's ALL there is to that story.

I has also faved a pic someone made of Joseph Goebbels (I think it was?) as a Pixar Car. That's not because I have any nazi-sympathies, but I simply found the concept of turning historical persons, both good and bad, into Cars as an interesting project. I would have faved any other historical Carsified person as well.

As for me being a Norwegian and have a natural pale complexion, that's not something I can help. That's nothing I choose. And it doesn't make me racist or Nazi. Period.

11. Putting a white-supremacist flag (the actual flag of Norway) on my porch on family birthdays and our national day.

Again. Get educated.

This flag… is the actual flag of my country. The Kingdom of Norway.

There is nothing Nazi about it. It is not a symbol of white-supremacy. IT IS THE FLAG OF NORWAY.

During WW2 it was even illegal, so people would paint it everywhere in a protest against the Nazi-occpation and the SS. We even decorated our Christmas trees with it, and that is a tradition that has followed us into the modern day.

Again, if some idiots in the US choose to use it as a symbol for their disgusting logic, it is not Norway or the Norwegians' fault.

12. Being a danger to my daughter.

I need people to elaborate here.

What exactly do you think I do to my daughter? What is the cause of your concern here?

The fact that I have made NSFW content? How is that harmful to her as long as I keep it away from her? You DO realize that even authors, pornstars and moviemakers have children and that they can be good parents, right?

Do you think I read pornographic content for her as bedtime stories? Or show her porn instead of kids TV? How sick are you guys, really…?

Some people even wanted CPS to take my child away from me… Have a look at these screenshots…

You want a happy, healthy, innocent child to be taken away from a stable, safe home with loving parents just because you don't like the content the mother made? You want her to be placed in foster care, where there is no guarantee that she will have a happy upbringing rather than have her stay with her parents who love her and care for her, for reasons she'll never understand and wasn't even aware of?

"Think of the children!" a lot of you say when it comes to my content. May I ask why this doesn't apply to my daughter?

Why do some of you go as far as to wishing her dead or wanting her to be removed from the home she feels safe and loved in? How is that thinking of the children?

As for the douchebag in that screenshot. You claim that if your mother did something like that you would want nothing to do with her… I have a question: Do you know EVERYTHING your mother do? Does she include you in each aspect of her life? Even her sexual life? No?

How do you know she doesn't do thing you don't approve of when you're not around? She could be a rabid pornmag reader for all you know. But stuff like that is something adults hide from their kids. So, you wouldn't know, unless you go snooping around in her business.

Everyone is entitled to privacy. What I and my husband do when our kid is not around is our business, not hers, and certainly not yours.

Porn and parenting are to be kept separate from each other. Period.

And we do.

There is absolutely no reason to be worried about my daughter. She is a happy, healthy child in a safe, stable home with family that loves her and cares for her. Not just me and my husband, but also grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins.

If you want to remove her from that over a stupid fanfic behind a mature content wall, you're the deranged person, not me.

This is all I have to say about all this and my time in the TTTE fandom. I have left by my own, free will. Yes, I am aware that many people don't want me there. That's fine. I don't want to be there.

I am a bit disappointed in those people who just blindly unfollowed me and unfriended me without any questions asked, just followed the leader. Big users tend to dictate who and what is worth following in that fandom. They will even protect real predators, but I'm not going to open that can of worms now. I'm done with the fandom.

Some of those people, I have been talking to regularly, even supported when they faced hardships in the fandom themselves. But when I got in trouble, they ditched me without a word…

If anything, this whole ordeal showed me who to trust and not, and who were true to their word when it came to how deep our friendship was. True friends at least give you the chance to explain before they drop you. I hold no ill feelings to those who did, at least they asked me before judging.

And those who still stayed with me, are the ones who truly know me and who I really am.

Some of the worst libels posted about me might be reported to the police, but I haven't made up my mind yet. I am not mentally strong at the moment, so I don't know if I have the strength to legally follow it all up. I will ask the cops at work for advice on the matter.

All I ask for now is some peace.

You don't have to like me. You don't have to follow me. You don't have to like my content. Feel free to invalidate me, I know a lot of you will.

But please, stop bullying me and my family.

Please stop sending me horrid messages and death threats.

Please stop doxxing me and calling me.

Please leave my family alone. If you don't care about me, at least care about them.

Please just ignore me. I have already left the fandom, there is no reason to keep hunting me.

I just want to move on and go on with my life and the content I am currently working on. After years in therapy, my life has gotten better, and I want to move on.

Please let me.

#good bye to ttte #tw//suicide #tw//rape #tw// bullying #tw//depression #tw//ptsd #tw//ttte #tw//sex #tw//abuse #tw//domestic abuse #I'm done

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bigprincess-energy · 5 years ago

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Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree with Anyone Else but Me

Y’all on this site there is a beautiful, incredible, intelligent, talented, practically perfect in every way woman who runs the phenomenal blog @waitformereprise . She really does it all. Gifs? She makes them. Art? She draws that. Fics? She writes them. And she’s also like a professional lady???? Who is killing it????? I am in shock, I am in awe, I am inspired daily. She has been working real hard and I wanted to make her a lil treat of some Orphydice Fluff so here is this! I hope you enjoy it Anna!!

---

For the most part, Eurydice adored her employment at Hermes Bar. During quiet lulls, Hermes would indulge her with a wild story from his younger days. When Persephone was in town, she would herself at home on her favorite bar stool and the duo would chat about anything and everything for hours at a time between Eurydice mixing drinks. Best of all, she could watch her poet hard at work. Nothing enamored the young girl more than watching his fingers tighten around a pencil as he crafted lyrics or the intricate dance they did each night as he played the lyre. Technically, he was playing for the patrons of the bar, but it always felt as though his songs were just for her.

However, there was one element of the job she hated: inventory day. Of course, taking inventory was fundamental to the success of the bar, but there was nothing worse to Eurydice than being stuck counting inventory in the cellar. During the summer months, one might suffocate from the heat and humidity that trapped itself in the windowless space, while in the winter she would bundle up in her outer coat and a pair of gloves to avoid freezing. Not to mention, every time whoever was manning the bar used the sink it was guaranteed the pipes would drip.

Orpheus could easily sense that today was inventory day as he watched his wife drag out her normally concise morning routine. Eurydice was a clever one when it came to avoiding tasks she didn’t want to do, to the point of it being comedic. Often the couple left their breakfast dishes in the sink, but on inventory days she insisted it was incredibly important all the dishes be cleaned before they headed to work. Same went for laundry, each shirt and pair of trousers had to be pressed and folded, despite the fact that the next morning all the hard work would be undone in a rush to get ready.

Eurydice’s newfound dedication to chores, of course, paled in comparison to her attempts to seduce Orpheus to skip work and spend the day in bed with her. There was nothing she wouldn’t try. Hot, heavy kisses along his neck and collarbone paired with her delicate fingers running along his chest first thing in the morning, earning her an additional five minutes. Next, she would try walking around in her undergarments, bringing him their morning tea to drink in bed rather than at the kitchen table as a traditional morning would have. Finally, when all else failed and the couple was nearly out the door she would grab her lover by his suspenders and pull him down to her, whispering pleases between kisses. As much as the poet longed to indulge her, his fingers always found their way around the doorknob, the first step to getting the couple to work.

As much as she despised these days, there was one perk to inventory, Eurydice could drag Orpheus into the cellar with him for company and assistance. The two of them created little games to make the work more entertaining, from estimating how many bottles of wine they went through in the previous month to competing who could make a taller tower of toilet paper the fastest. Whoever lost the previous month would be on counting duty this month. Hermes would often pop his head down and find the couple in a fit of giggles. The elder god would simply roll his eyes and return to the bar. Orpheus would also hum songs as he counted, and every once and a while he would pull her into the center of the cellar, wrap his arms around her waist and dance to his tune under the dim lighting.

Today, Eurydice crouched above the floor, rocking gently on her heels as she took stock of the remaining cocktail napkins. “200...250….300,” she mumbled to herself, attempting to avoid losing count.

“‘Rydice,” her lover’s voice called out from several shelves away. “You want a snack?”

“300!” She blurted out as a response, her mind hanging on to the number so she wouldn’t have to recount. “Uh- yeah, why not, what did you find?” Eurydice asked as she stuck a paper marker between the last set of recorded napkins.

“Well, I don’t have 300 snacks, just one,” Orpheus laughed softly, striding over with an apple in hand.

“Here, I hope it’s enough,” he smiled as he tossed the apple down to her. With grace, Eurydice caught it between her two hands and raised it to her mouth for a bite. The fruit was perfect, a crisp crunch followed by a subtle sweetness. Audibly, Eurydice’s stomach growled.

“How long have we been down here?” She questioned, standing up and dusting off her lap before making her way over to Orpheus.

“Couple of hours is my guess. Mister Hermes only came down once, but I’m almost done in the back. How much is left up here?” He asked as he bent down to take a bite of the apple.

“Not much just - ah, ah, ah! This is my snack, did I say you could have some?” Eurydice teased, feigning defensiveness as she pulled her arm back so the apple was out of his reach.

“May I have a bite of your apple?” He asked politely, his voice no louder than a whisper. With his wide, puppy dog hazel eyes and soft-spoken tone how could she say no to him?

“Since you asked so nicely,” the young girl said with a smirk, handing the fruit over to her husband. “Did you know in Ancient Greece, if someone tossed an apple at you it was a confession of love?” She mused at him as he crunched.

“Wait, Orpheus did you just confess your love for me? Aww, do you have a crush on me?” Eurydice teased, her nimble fingers taking the apple back from the blushing boy.

“I-I’m your husband! Of course, I love you!!” Orpheus stammered, trying to figure out how and why she always managed to make him feel so bashful. Eurydice sank her teeth into the flesh of the fruit, eyes glinting wickedly.

“Still, having a crush? That’s embarrassing,” she smirked as she shook her head slightly, expressing a falsified disgust.

“You’re my wife, ‘Rydice. We, we’re married!” He exclaimed, his visible confusion of trying to understand her logic spurring her on further.

“I just, it’s very sweet but I don’t know,” Eurydice said as she looked her poet over from head to toe. “You are very tall and gods, those hazel eyes are pretty,” she admired him, her hand coming up to cup his flushed cheek. Her eyes lingered there for a moment, lost in the beauty of him.

“I write pretty songs too,” Orpheus responded, tilting his head into the curve of her palm. “About a very pretty girl.”

It was Eurydice’s turn to blush. Normally she was able to brush off Orpheus’ compliments as just Orpheus being his lovestruck, romantic self, but when she allowed his words to sink in, butterflies made a home in her stomach and fluttered their wings.

“Sing for me?” The girl asked softly, pressing her body into his as she wrapped her arms around Orpheus’ neck.

As his hands found their way to rest on her waist, Orpheus smiled lovingly down at his wife before beginning to sing. “La, la, la, la, la-“

His last note was cut off as Eurydice stood on her tiptoes so she could press her lips against his. “I guess I have a little bit of a crush on you too,” she admitted, grinning up at her husband before pulling him down into another kiss. The remaining inventory could wait, the count couldn’t change that much in 20 minutes.

#waitformereprise #oli.writes #this is pure fluff!!!!#also i wanted to have Eurydice fucking DECK orpheus with a pitch of an apple but this is fluff so like none of that #hadestown #orpheus #eurydice #orphydice #also do I imply they have a quickie in the cellar? maybe.

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svexchange2k19 · 5 years ago

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Treat List!

What’s a treat list? It’s an anonymous list of exchange participants’ requests that I’m posting here so that anyone (regardless of if you’ve signed up to do the exchange or not) can create gifts matching these prompts if they want to :))

This part of the exchange is strictly optional (no obligation from anyone to do this) and it’s also not an exchange (i.e. if you make a treat, you don’t get something back ... other than the knowledge that you’ve made someone very happy :)).

Treats can be basically anything you want! E.g. a quick doodle, a few lines of a drabble, or anything more complex/long if you choose :)

How to submit a treat:

Please email [email protected] with ‘Treat for Prompt [x]’ in the subject line, e.g. ‘Treat for Prompt 1’

If you want to post your treat publicly on your Tumblr/AO3 account, please only do so after the exchange’s gift reveal date (25 January 2020). Close to this date I will let you know who the treat recipient was and you can then tag/link/mention them in your post, send it to them if you want, etc.

The Treat List

/// PROMPT 1 ///

First choice of ship: Ed Chambers/Richard

Second choice of ship: Big Head/Jian-Yang

Additional ships: Jared/Richard / Gilfoyle/Monica

Do you have rating preferences out of the following: general (no age restriction); teen and up; mature; explicit? Teen and Up. Mature and Explicit Welcome.

Content preferences: Evil!Richard or Possesive/Jealous!Ed Chambers. Angst with happy outcomes.

Prompts/suggestions:

Ed Chambers secretly hiring himself as an employee. Richard hates him and always hears Jared talking about him.

Pied Piper actually succeeds AU. Jared dealing with super powerful Richard who needs to be brought down a peg.

Big Head secretly knowing what’s up and handling Jian-Yang, playing him like a fiddle.

Content weaknesses: I will reject nothing. Everything involving SV is good.

Content limits: No limits. The dirtier the better.

Anything else you want to share with your gift creator? If you've ever stopped yourself from writing something because you thought the fandom would judge you. Give me that.

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

/// PROMPT 2 ///

First choice of ship: Jared/Richard

Second choice of ship: Gilfoyle/Monica

Additional ships: Dinesh/Gilfoyle

Do you have rating preferences out of the following: general (no age restriction); teen and up; mature; explicit? If so, please list in order of preference. Mature, Explicit, Teen, Everyone

Content preferences: Fluff, angst with a happy ending, porn with plot/porn with feelings

Prompts/suggestions:

Pied Piper Christmas Party

Finale fix it fic

Sick fic

Meet the Parents

Pretty much any AU other than high school

Content weaknesses: Preferably not Erlich x Richard, Richard x Gavin, Richard x Bighead, or Jared x Gilfoyle

Content limits: Non-con, domestic violence, gay bashing

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

/// PROMPT 3 ///

First choice of ship: Jared/Richard

Second choice of ship: Gilfoyle/Monica

Do you have rating preferences out of the following: general (no age restriction); teen and up; mature; explicit? No preference

Content preferences: Content: fluff or h/c, comedy, but most importantly, romance.

Prompts/suggestions: Boy howdy do I love tropes. I love hijinks, farce comedy, fake relationship stuff, and bad, fumbly sex where they get to giggle and be nervous without inhibitions. But also, if you have a hankering for something specific, throw it at me! no story is going to be better than one You genuinely want to write.

Content weaknesses: gilfoyle/dinesh, anything with Erlich

Content limits: rape/ non con, underage (Like if they're 17 or something that's fine but they gotta be the same age ish)

Anything else you want to share with your gift creator? Uh... I love you

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

/// PROMPT 4 ///

First choice of ship: Jared/Richard

Do you have rating preferences out of the following: general (no age restriction); teen and up; mature; explicit? As much as I love explicit art and fic, I would prefer not to receive any in this exchange. Teen/mature/whatever is all good for me

Content preferences: I enjoy humor, fluff, and drama. Please no angst

Prompts/suggestions:

Historical AU

Fantasy AU

arranged marriage/marriage of convenience

established relationship

Content weaknesses: none

Content limits: No explicit violence or gore please. hurt/comfort is ok as long as the focus is on comfort. Oh, and no major character death!

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

/// PROMPT 5 ///

First choice of ship: Jared/Richard

Second choice of ship: Ed Chambers/Richard

Additional ships: Gilfoyle/Monica

Do you have rating preferences out of the following: general (no age restriction); teen and up; mature; explicit? 1) Explicit 2) Mature

Content preferences: in no order - angst with a happy ending; comedy; pining/mutual pining; romance; gratuitous smut; tenderness

Prompts/suggestions: in no order - bed sharing; soulmate AUs; Alone on the Water AU; high school AU with misfits finding each other and pining SO MUCH PINING; Richard sees Jared in a tux for the first time; inappropriately timed proposal; Richard bids on Jared at a date auction for charity; Jared works as a stripper, Richard becomes a regular; Pied Piper Christmas party complete with mistletoe and drunken shenanigans; any version of Richard and Jared confessing their love for each other

Content weaknesses: Dinesh/Gilfoyle, Big Head/Jian Yang, Dinesh/Gilfoyle/Monica.

Content limits: non-con (references to past abuse, like mentions in Jared's past, are ok, just nothing onscreen)

Anything else you want to share with your gift creator? Thank you for making a gift for me!

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

/// PROMPT 6 ///

First choice of ship: Jared/Richard

Second choice of ship: Ed Chambers/Richard

Additional ships: Dinesh/Gilfoyle/Monica

Do you have rating preferences out of the following: general (no age restriction); teen and up; mature; explicit? No preference.

Content preferences: hurt/comfort, pining, angst with a happy ending, porn with feelings, domestic life, AUs, established relationship, humor

Prompts/suggestions:

Richard comforting Jared;

pirate AU;

I just really like established relationship… when the characters know each other really well, when they have their own shared stories, jokes etc;

For the Ed Chambers ship – maybe something using that whole “Richard trying to be alpha” storyline from 6x04

Content weaknesses: any hints of Gavin/Richard

Content limits: Omegaverse, mpreg, hardcore violence, unusual specific kinky stuff like that. And fluff. Cuteness is cute, but in ships it often makes me cringe, sorry *covering eyes with hands* Tenderness though! Tenderness is good. Good Shit™

Anything else you want to share with your gift creator? Tbh I just want you to have fun doing this! So I hope you do (have fun I mean) :)

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

/// PROMPT 7 ///

First choice of ship: Dinesh / Gilfoyle

Second choice of ship: Big Head / Jian-Yang

Additional ships: Jared / Richard

Do you have rating preferences out of the following: general (no age restriction); teen and up; mature; explicit? No.

Content preferences: Hurt/comfort, angst.

Prompts/suggestions: Season six.

Content weaknesses: None

Content limits: None

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

/// PROMPT 8 ///

First choice of ship: Dinesh/Gilfoyle/Monica

Second choice of ship: Gilfoyle/Monica

Additional ships: Big Head/Jian-Yang

Do you have rating preferences out of the following: general (no age restriction); teen and up; mature; explicit? Any is fine

Content preferences: Any as long as there’s a touch of comedy in there.

Prompts/suggestions: Depending on pairing, some ideas:

Monica wants to try something new, Gilfoyle is into compersion, and Dinesh is into … well, Gilfoyle, mainly, but hey, Monica is kind of hot. So they get together and do a little experimenting.

5 times someone found out about Gilfoyle and Monica when they were trying very hard to hide it, and once time they told everyone. Bonus points for the 5 times being a range of reactions from turned on to disgusted, with a lot of astonishment thrown in.

Jian Yang moves back from China and everyone else moves out, so it’s just him and Big Head, chillin’ out, playing some games, shooting some cans, hooking up and kind of digging each other’s radically different vibe, like, a lot.

Or whatever the author has in mind for those pairings, I’m easy!

Content weaknesses: N/A

Content limits: N/A

#sv exchange 2k19 #announcements #sv squad #silicon valley winter exchange #silicon valley #silicon valley hbo #treats

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unfolded73 · 7 years ago

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This Graceful Path (10/19)

Summary: Emma has just moved in with Mary Margaret and started working as a deputy in the Storybrooke sheriff’s department when she meets Killian Jones, the town’s introverted harbormaster. When a prominent Storybrooke resident is found murdered, Emma tries to juggle solving the case with new friendships, parenthood, and romance. A Season 1 Cursed!Killian AU.

Rating: Explicit per CSBB guidelines (violence, sex); more of an M on unfolded73’s scale. The sex, when we get there, is not extremely graphic in nature. Same with the violence.

Content Warning: This fic contains two major character deaths, one canon and one not. (You’re already past them.) Content warning for sexual content in this chapter. As with the show itself, there are consent issues involved with cursed people having sexual relations, so be warned.

Total word count: ~ 75,000

Acknowledgements: Thank you to @j-philly-b for betaing this monstrosity. Thank you to @caprelloidea for all of the read-throughs and cheerleading; not sure I could have written it without your excitement early on. Thank you to @teruel-a-witch for the original prompt on tumblr which sparked this fic. Thank you to @pompeiiablaze for the wonderful art which accompanies Chapter 3 and 9 and one later chapter. Thanks to the CSBB mods ( @sambethe in particular, who had to look at my check-ins) for your support and for enduring my neuroses.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 – AO3 Link

Chapter 10

“N… nothing here, Madam M… mayor,” the man said fearfully, and Regina imagined ripping his heart out and crushing it just to stop his annoying stutter. She rolled her eyes.

“So find another clear spot and dig again,” she said through clenched teeth, her voice loud in the muffled stillness of the snowy forest. Was this one Bashful? Or Dopey? She didn’t recall and frankly, didn’t care. She didn’t bother to learn their cursed names, and she certainly wasn’t going to try to remember their names from the Enchanted Forest.

Several of the dwarves wielded shovels, while another was operating a metal detector, moving it over the freshly fallen snow that blanketed the forest floor. Tree branches heavy with snow hung low around them, the lower ones dropping their burden on the ground in huge clumps as they were disturbed by the searchers.

Regina wasn’t sure that the Dark One dagger would even set off a metal detector — was what it was made of technically metal, or was it some enchanted element that had no equivalent in this realm? — so she was having the dwarves dig in an ever-widening circle away from the site of the murder. She stamped her booted feet against the cold. Probably best to go back to her warm office and wait for news.

“So, of course, when I get a call from a citizen saying there were strange men digging in the forest, I should have guessed that you were involved,” a sardonic voice said from behind her. Regina swung around to see Emma coming toward her, gray beanie shoved down tight over her head and shiny sheriff’s badge at her hip. Regina sneered.

“Well, someone has to look for the murder weapon since your office is doing such a miserable job of searching for it,” Regina sneered. “You and that charming deputy of yours are worse than useless.”

“You’re out here disturbing a crime scene,” Emma said, her breath visible in the frosty air.

“It’s been two and a half months,” Regina responded. “If you haven’t finished investigating the crime scene, then you’re even more incompetent than I thought.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “So you’re going to dig up the whole forest?”

“If I have to. This is town property, Ms. Swan, and I have every right to do exactly what I’m doing.”

“Why?”

“Anything to get justice for poor Mr. Gold.”

“Why do I doubt that you give a shit about Mr. Gold?” Emma asked, her arms folding across her chest.

“I ‘give a shit’ that there’s still a murderer on the loose. A murderer that you seem to be dating if the town rumor mill is accurate.”

“Killian’s not the killer.”

Regina narrowed her eyes, surprised that Emma didn’t offer even a token denial of the relationship. “And how do you know that?”

“The killer stole Tom Clark’s car and followed Mr. Gold out here, and Killian doesn’t drive,” she said, ticking off points on her gloved fingers. “The killer would have gotten blood on his clothes, and Killian was seen by his next-door neighbor not long after the murder, looking normal. Also, I’ve found no fingerprints in the car or in Gold’s cabin that match his.”

“And do they match anyone else?” Regina asked.

Emma looked chastened at that question. “I’m still trying to work that out. So far I haven’t found anything that didn’t match Mr. Gold himself in the cabin, or Mr. Clark and his friends in the car. But we’re still investigating it.”

“So he could have had a glove on.” Regina looked back at the men digging in the forest. “We’re going to find that dagger, Ms. Swan, and when we do, you’ll have to accept the fact that your new boyfriend is a murderer.” And the Dark One, she thought to herself.

“Why are you so insistent that Killian did this? I can tell when someone’s lying, and he’s telling the truth.”

Regina pulled herself up, standing ramrod straight and staring down her nemesis. “I know the history of the people in this town that you cannot begin to understand. If you think he’s telling the truth, then you’re blinded by his pretty face.”

“Whatever.” Emma turned to head back the way she’d come. “Have fun out here in the cold.”

Regina watched Emma go until she’d disappeared from view, seething internally. She stomped her feet, her toes numb inside her boots. She swung around, furious. “Keep working!” she shouted. “I won’t abide any laziness. And call me as soon as you find anything!”

Back in her car, Regina turned on the heat full-blast and then noticed that she’d left her Blackberry sitting on the passenger seat. She had a missed call from Kathryn Nolan, David’s wife.

If what Regina suspected was correct, then despite her best efforts at intervention, that damned Snow White and her peasant husband had found their way back into each other’s arms. That kind of happiness was exactly what the curse was supposed to prevent. She pressed a button to call Kathryn back.

“Hello, Kathryn, you called?”

“Hi, Regina. Thanks for calling me back.”

“You sound sad; is everything all right?”

“No. I just had a long conversation with David. Our marriage is over.”

“I was headed back to my office. Can you meet me there? We can talk.”

Regina’s hands clutched the steering wheel as she drove back into town. She would stop this. She couldn’t allow Snow White to be happy, that would defeat the whole purpose, the whole reason for Storybrooke’s existence.

Pulling into her accustomed parking space at town hall and leaving the car, she marched into the building, thinking about what her play should be. If Snow White and Prince Charming were together, she would have to do something to tear them apart. Was there a way to frame one of them for Mr. Gold’s murder? Doubtful, not with David’s familiarity with the case as Emma’s deputy. But if someone else died, or went missing, and if sweet little Mary Margaret was the prime suspect…

Regina sighed; she really could have used a toadying minion like Sidney Glass to help her deal with this problem, but he’d proven himself so useless when it came to unseating Emma Swan as sheriff that he’d required punishment. She supposed she’d have to do everything herself. As usual. No one could be counted on, in this world or any other.

Kathryn was already sitting on a bench outside Regina’s office. Regina pulled her into a hug, every inch the supportive friend. “Come in, Kathryn, and tell me everything.”

They sat down together on the pristinely white sofa. Regina handed Kathryn a box of tissues, but she seemed to have herself under control. “David confessed to me that he’s been cheating on me with Mary Margaret.”

Regina didn’t have to fake her anger. “That complete and utter asshole.”

Kathryn shrugged. “At least he was honest. He’s in love with her, not with me.” She sighed. “To be fair, I don’t know if I’m in love with him either.”

“That’s awfully generous of you. But you are his wife and the two of you took vows. That can’t be undervalued.”

“I know, but it’s never felt right.” Kathryn stood up and began to pace, her heels loud against the marble floor. Regina’s mind whirred as she focused on the upside down image of Kathryn in the reflective shine of the black and white marble under their feet. “It’s never felt real<, me and David. Even before the coma. I don’t think we were meant to be.”

Regina stood as well, walking over toward one of her decorative end tables. She caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror, a hundred tiny, fractured versions of herself in each of the beveled edges. “So what are you going to do?”

“I considered running away to Boston; I was thinking about applying to law school and getting a fresh start. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that Storybrooke is my home. I don’t have to leave it if I don’t want to.” As she talked, she turned to look out the window. Regina picked up a heavy vase from the end table and stole up behind her. It didn’t matter what Kathryn said. If she turned up dead, it wouldn’t be hard to focus the blame on the woman her husband was having an affair with. “Yes, it will be hard to see David and Mary Margaret together, but I’m strong. I can deal with it.”

Regina raised the vase.

There was a loud knock on her office door.

Just managing to get the vase set down before Kathryn turned from the window, Regina pasted on a forced smile. “What is it?” she called, her voice sharp.

The door opened to reveal Killian Jones.

“I was wondering if we could talk, Madam Mayor,” he said.

“I’m in a meeting,” Regina almost snarled.

“It’s okay, I need to run some errands.” Kathryn reached out and squeezed Regina’s hand, her face kind. “Thanks for being a good friend, Regina.” Regina watched as her ticket to making Mary Margaret miserable walked out the door.

“This was bad timing, Cap— Mr. Jones.”

“So was the — writer, was it? — that you sent sniffing around the docks this morning.”

Regina glared at him. “When the sheriff has done nothing to solve this horrible crime, I’ll take any help I can get. Even bohemian writers.” She knew who August was; he wasn’t writing any book, at least not one he planned to publish. As the only other person in town who knew the origins of Storybrooke, she either needed to make an ally of him or eliminate him. For now, she was electing to try the former.

“Emma has worked night and day—”

“Yes, well, you aren’t exactly unbiased when it comes to Miss Swan, are you? Nor she with you. Which is a bigger problem.”

“Why are you so convinced that I killed that man?” Killian asked, his voice rising with a little bit of desperation. “I swear on all that’s holy that I didn’t.”

“You and anything holy are about as far apart as two things can get,” Regina muttered. She knew Hook probably believed what he was saying, thanks to the curse, or thanks to however the Dark One was manifesting itself in his cursed brain. But the fact remained that he was the Dark One, she was almost certain of it, and she needed to get possession that dagger before the curse was broken, or who knows what would happen when he realized who and what he was.

“I just thought the guy seemed dangerous,” Killian said. “Unconcerned with following the law. A man like that might do anything in pursuit of a story.”

“And what are you suggesting I do with him? If he’s so dangerous, perhaps you should tell your girlfriend, the sheriff?”

“How about start by telling him I’m no murderer!” Killian shouted.

“Or what?” When he didn’t respond, Regina walked over to her desk and picked up some papers, stacking them in what she hoped was a dismissal. “I’ll be sure to keep your input in mind. Was there anything else?”

~*~

“I’m headed out,” Emma said to Mary Margaret as she descended the stairs from her bedroom. She’d rushed home from the station to freshen up. Lately, she'd been so busy, she’d hardly spoken to her roommate.

Mary Margaret looked up from the stove where she was stirring a sauce. “Where’s Killian taking you?”

“He’s doing what you’re doing for David; cooking dinner.”

“Ooh, romantic.” Mary Margaret smirked at her. “Do you think you’ll be back tonight?”

Emma flushed, biting her lip. “Let’s just say I’m prepared for the possibility that I won’t be. I promise I’ll call if not and give you ample warning.” Emma gathered up her purse and keys. “Listen, David told me about him and Kathryn; I’m really so happy for you two.”

Mary Margaret’s face broke out into a full grin. “Me too. I know it’s still going to be difficult, and he has to get through the divorce, but Kathryn really couldn’t have been more understanding.”

“I guess they both knew they weren’t right for each other.”

“You know, David gives a lot of credit to both you and Killian for setting him straight on telling Kathryn the truth.”

Emma was surprised to hear that. “I didn’t realize he and Killian talked about personal stuff.”

“Yeah, they’re really getting to be good friends. Oh, we could double date!”

Wrinkling her nose, Emma opened the door. “Yeah, because we’re teenagers in the 1950s. I’ll see you later, Mary Margaret.”

She drove the short distance to Killian’s apartment, her heart in her throat. The last time they’d been together, she was fairly certain that if Mary Margaret hadn’t come home, she and Killian would have ended up in bed together. Now they were going to be alone in his apartment with the whole night ahead of them. It didn’t matter how many people she’d slept with in her life; the idea that tonight might be the night with Killian was making her more nervous than she’d felt about a guy in a long time.

When he opened the door for her promptly after she knocked, she could see her own feelings reflected in his hopeful expression.

“Hey, come on in.” He helped her off with her coat, hanging it in a small closet by the front door. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

If she expected to see chaos in his kitchen, she was disappointed. The oven was on, something obviously cooking inside, and a salad sat on the counter. All the dishes involved in preparing the meal had been washed and put away. The table was set with two place settings, and there was even a single rose in a beer bottle. She smiled.

“I know my apartment isn’t much, but…”

“It’s fine.”

They stared at each other awkwardly. Killian scratched behind his ear, glancing over at the oven timer, which still had four minutes left on it.

“Can I get you a beer?” Killian asked.

“Yeah, sure.” The process of getting beer out of the fridge and opening them took about a minute, and then they were back to uncomfortable silence.

“Sorry, I probably should have prepared some topics of conversation. I’ve suddenly forgotten how to use language,” he said, flushing to the tips of his ears.

“It’s the sex thing,” Emma said.

She watched him swallow, his hand coming up to scratch behind his ear again. “I’m sorry?”

She set her beer down on the kitchen counter and wiped her palms off on her jeans. “You know, the sex thing. We’re both wondering if we’re gonna have sex tonight. It’s making things awkward and weird.”

Killian’s eyes blinked a few times. “Right. So are we? Going to have sex?” He bit his lip, which she thought looked like a fantastic idea. Sinking her teeth into his bottom lip was definitely a thing she wanted to experience first-hand.

Shrugging one shoulder, she smiled. “It’s not just up to me.” She took a couple of steps toward him. “But I’d like to cast my vote for yes.”

Killian hummed, his smile bringing out the dimples in his cheeks. “Well, it’s unanimous then. That’s lucky.”

They sort of swayed into each other, drawn in by an invisible pull between them. “Lucky,” Emma agreed, letting her body come to rest against his, touching legs and chests and fuck, he smelled really good.

When they kissed, it wasn’t tentative or slow; she opened her mouth and so did he and their tongues were touching, wet and slick and perfect. Emma reached up and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close so that her breasts crushed against the firm plane of his chest.

The oven timer sounded and Killian ignored it, his mouth busy against the curve where her neck met her shoulder.

“Oven,” she rasped out.

“Don’t care.”

Emma pried him away, enjoying his lazy, lust-filled expression. “Your dinner’s going to burn, and we should probably eat so that we have enough strength for the other thing.”

Killian spun around, twisting knobs to stop the beeping timer and to turn off the oven itself. Taking a casserole out, he set it down to cool and turned to her. “Or we could do the other thing now, and have dinner after.” His hopeful smile made her laugh, so she kissed him again.

“Okay,” she mumbled against his lips.

“Okay?”

She reached around and squeezed his ass, pulling him up against her. “Okay.”

What followed was a clumsy, stumbling walk to the bedroom as they continued kissing and Emma went to work on his shirt buttons. She paused in the doorway of his bedroom to take her boots off, tossing them in the general direction of the front door, before joining him by the bed, neatly made like the first time she’d been in here, when she’d searched his apartment.

“Undressing another person is awkward, don’t you think?” she said as she untucked his shirt from his jeans so she could finish unbuttoning it.

Killian chuckled, pulling her close, his hand roaming down her back and over the curve of her ass. “Would that I had some kind of magic to whisk our clothes away.”

Emma took a step back, pulling her sweater over her head, and then they were both rapidly yanking their jeans off, sitting down next to each other to finish the job. Noticing that he’d removed his underwear at the same time, Emma reached behind her back to unfasten her bra, then pulled her own underwear off, and wow, she did not expect to be getting naked this early in the proceedings, but here she was, completely bare in Killian’s lamp-lit bedroom.

He kissed her while she reached back and fumbled with the bedding, and then he was pressing her back onto the pillows and Emma let herself be pressed, enjoying the fall and the weight of his body over her. His shirt was open but still on, and she wondered if he was uncomfortable about his prosthesis and what lay under it. She hoped he’d grow more confident with time, and it struck her like a thunderclap that she wasn’t just about to have sex with someone. She was assuming this tumble into bed would be the first of many. She was thinking like this wasn’t a one-time thing. She blinked her eyes, amazed.

“You all right, love?”

Emma reached up and caressed his face, enjoying scraping her nails through the stubble on his cheek. “I should be asking you that. You sure your ribs are up for this?”

He smiled softly. “I assure you, I’m tip top.”

Running her hand down his back and up under his shirt, she pulled him down, opening her thighs and cradling his in between, gasping at the intimate press of his cock between her legs. Then they were both lost, mouths meeting and hips rolling against one another, all breathless moans and grinding, panting desire. She was already so wet, could feel it in the slick drag of him against her, knew she should ask him to get a condom or run and fetch one from her purse, because she was so ready for this, ready for him to push inside her and fuck her and make her come.

He slowed things down though, moving over to one side and running his hand over her chest, cupping her breast and brushing his thumb over the nipple. Emma gasped, grasping the sides of his face and kissing him again, arching against his hand. He slid it down, brushing his calloused palm over her abdomen, and she rolled her hips, hoping he would take the hint and touch her where she was desperate to be touched.

When his fingers finally slipped between her legs, Emma bit down on his bottom lip, her hand tightening in his hair. She felt like a coiled spring; like her body had been waiting for this since the moment they met, since the moment she turned in the bright sunlight and saw him there on the docks. They groaned together as he slid a finger inside her. He alternated between gentle thrusts in and out, and more focused touches to her clit, winding her tighter and tighter as she lifted her hips and panted into his mouth.

“Condom?” she murmured.

“Yeah.” He rolled over, pulling open his bedside table drawer and taking out a foil packet. Emma took advantage of the fact that he was on his back, sitting up and moving astride him, taking the condom from his hand. She’d always had an easier time coming when she was on top, and she grinned at him as she tore the package open with her teeth. He met her gaze with one of lust-filled amazement, like he couldn’t quite believe this was happening.

Emma rolled the condom on, stroking him and lining her body up and sinking down and oh. There. He filled her, the delicious stretch of it making her whimper as she leaned forward and started a slow pace, her hands clutching the bed on either side of his pillow.

It took a few thrusts for them to find a rhythm together, his hips not quite rising in sync with hers at first, but they adjusted to each other and she couldn’t help moaning at how good it felt. “Fuck, Swan, yes,” he chanted with every rise and fall, every slick meeting of their bodies. She could feel it building, grinding down onto his pelvic bone as hard as she could, chasing her pleasure and feeling the sensation of an orgasm ahead, nothing stopping her, nothing in the way between her and that best of all possible feelings. She dimly heard Killian cry out just before her own orgasm hit, everything clenching and pulsing with perfect bliss.

Emma took a few seconds to rest against his chest before carefully dismounting, making sure he had a grip on the condom so they didn’t make a mess of things. Killian got up to clean himself up while she collapsed onto her back, her chest still heaving.

“Ready for dinner?�� he asked when he returned to the bedroom, a cheeky smile on his face.

She shook her head back and forth on the pillow, taking a moment to enjoy the sight of his body. “That would require me to be capable of standing up.”

HIs resulting expression was full of pride. “I could stand here and throw food at you if you prefer.”

Emma heaved herself up, fishing around on the floor for her underwear. “I guess I have worked up an appetite.” Killian pulled his jeans back on, but Emma decided to only bother with the underwear and her sweater, leaving her own jeans and her bra on the floor.

Having sex first was the best idea he’d ever had; all the awkwardness from earlier had drained away, and as she ate almost-warm-enough forkfuls of Killian’s hamburger casserole, she thought she had never laughed so much over a meal.

They lingered at the table over cups of coffee and shared a piece of store-bought cheesecake, Killian’s blue eyes sparkling in the light of the dim bulb over his cheap, laminate table.

“What?” he said, and it made her realize that she was just sitting there, staring at him, her foot hooked over the rung of her chair, her bare legs slightly chilled.

“Nothing, I’m…” She took a second to interrogate the way she was feeling, expecting to find apprehension that she’d moved too far, too fast, gotten too close. But all she found was joy. “I’m just happy.”

He reached across the table and took her hand, his expression open and warm. “Me too.”

Later, they found their way into bed again, her sweater still on but panties flung enthusiastically across the room, and she looked down her body at the erotic sight of his dark hair between her thighs. She’d told him he could take off his shirt and prosthesis if he wanted to, and in the dark bedroom, he’d agreed, vulnerable and trusting.

Now he worked her over with his tongue and fingers, his focus only on her pleasure, and she gave herself over to it, rocking against his face and gripping his hair and muttering don’t stop, don’t stop until she came with a strangled cry. She was vaguely aware of him still between her legs, watching her as she shuddered with the aftershocks. As soon as she could make her limbs cooperate, she pulled her sweater off, collapsing naked and sweaty back onto the sheets.

Emma made a half-hearted motion toward his drawer with the condoms before Killian crawled over her to retrieve one himself. She sat up enough to kiss him as he fumbled with the wrapper.

“This okay?” he asked against her mouth.

“Uh huh.”

There were more sloppy kisses as he lined himself up, and then he buried himself to the hilt inside her. She wrapped her legs around him, telling him to let go, telling him to fuck her hard and he did, a glorious snarl on his face and the cords of his neck standing out. She gripped his biceps, loving the way his muscles felt under her hands. He didn’t last long, a strangled moan issuing from his throat as his orgasm hit. She combed her fingers through his hair as he came down, feeling exhausted and satisfied and wonderful.

He pulled her into his arms as soon as he returned from cleaning up, his nose brushing against hers in a not-quite-kiss. They settled against each other under the sheets, legs entangled. There was a gentle intimacy between them that was filling her heart, almost bringing tears to her eyes with how perfect it felt. Holding each other close, they both drifted off to sleep.

~*~

Emma woke up to the sound of his voice, but it was all wrong. Before she was even awake, the hairs on her arms were raised with gooseflesh.

“I’ll see you die,” he muttered between clenched teeth. Emma sat up in bed and looked over, seeing Killian still asleep in the light from the moon, now shining through the window and illuminating the bedroom with pale white light. He tossed and turned, lost in a nightmare.

“Dreamed of this day for so long,” he said, followed by more muttering she couldn’t understand. He flung his arm out, and it came to rest across her lap. Emma looked down at his tattoo, clearly visible in the moonlight. At the heart, and the name, and the dagger with the curved blade.

Curved blade.

“Your life is mine, Crocodile,” he said clearly.

Crocodile. He’d said that before, in the interrogation room at the sheriff’s station.

Emma carefully extracted herself from underneath his arm. Her mind a haze of panicky, swirling thoughts, she gathered her clothes from around the room, pulled them on, and fled into the night.

Chapter 11

#csbb #cs ff #captain swan ff #cs smut #this graceful path fic #my fic

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50cyg · 8 years ago

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TaiYama Week 2017, Day 4: Fan corner. Talk/share about fan created content you enjoy!

I went a little (okay a lot) crazy with this :S I just sorta linked to all the stuff I’ve found related to Taiyama made by fans that I really like... it’s kind of just a ton of links with a few comments from me as to why I like them... uhhh hope that’s okay. I go through Fanfiction, then AMVs and then Artwork

I’m not big into Fanfiction, but I have found a few works so far that I’ve loved so I’ll start by sharing those

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11527168/1/In-a-world-so-large-why-should-I-remain.

This fic is amazing. It’s by cyclone5000 who I know a lot of Taiyama fans recommend and I totally see why. She is a really great writer but this story specifically struck a chord with me because the boys are written exactly the way I personally headcanon them to act and their conversation is really beautiful and intimate. If I were to list every reason I love it it would go for a while so you can read my review here if you’re curious https://www.fanfiction.net/r/11527168/

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11900807/6/TaiYama-week

I absolutely love the portrayal of Hiroaki is this fic. Overall this fic just makes me smile cause it’s just the boys being super cute

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11885712/1/Problems

I love Fics that drag out the confession, or center around confessions. I think Yamato’s response to Taichi’s confession in this story is super interesting and their conversation just feels really real. It’s not necessarily a conversation I can see them having (mainly cause it doesn’t fit with my headcanons), but to me it’s a very realistic conversation that could happen between two people just trying to figure out what they want and how to handle their feelings.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11057182/1/Better-than-Expected

Another Cyclone5000, this one is just adorable, it’s just adorable, period. love <3

For me, I’ve always preferred to watch AMVs over reading fanfiction and those are what I look for first after I’ve fallen in love with a ship. When I’m really in the mood for a pairing I’ll watch an AMV to get the feels going. So here are a few (actually a lot... probably too many) AMVs that make me really happy

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hIvMqAor-UM

This one is by far my favourite Taichi x Yamato amv. I really love when AMVs include dialogue from the show. This one uses the Dub Audio but that makes me like it more because the Dub has a special place in my heart and I love Joshua Seth as Taichi and Michael Reisz as Yamato. It’s also one of the few AMVs on my list that does not include any shots from Tri as it was made many years before Tri’s announcement and all of the shots are very well edited together. Side note but this is also the first Taiyama amv I ever saw and I actually stumbled on it back in the day before I even liked Taiyama

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AYeogqF_DcQ

After falling in love with Taiyama, this amv was the first amv I ever saw so it’s special to me, and I also think it’s really well done and conveys the emotions from Reunion well.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AK3t_Z-0IHA

Again, AMVs that include dialogue from the show in them gets me every time, I love it when they do that and this one includes shots from both Tri and Adventure, and the song they picked is super appropriate. Thumbs up all around

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-GhLGmWq7EI

Okay I’m cheating with this one cause it’s a Yamichi AMV and not just a Taiyama AMV but I don’t care, it’s got plenty of Taiyama in it and it’s great. Also Yamichi is my OT3 for Digimon

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i9DiGlDkqvM

This one is literally 9 seconds long and is Taiorato but I don’t give a F***, gets me every time... I don’t even know why but I just love it and watch it on loop for hours. Very important not to read the comments for this video though, just a ton of Taiora vs Sorato bullshit, and Sora bashing

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ax6AyyqzPP0

This one is less than 25 seconds long but it’s almost exclusively Our War Game (which I love) and a whole lot of shots of Omegamon. So yeah it’s just really pretty and uses my favourite Digimon content

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LFJSV_Saydc&t=151s

It’s pretty ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ also I’m super biased in favour of this song, I just love this song so much “and I can’t understand why my heart is so broken, rejecting your love”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sfS9ebS1ITc

This one is 100% just for laughs :P

As for fan art, here are some that have really stood out to me. With the Pinterest ones, when you click on the link, if you don’t have an account or are not logged in, it looks like the picture I’m referring to will show up in the left hand corner of the page. Also sorry to Tumblr artists, cause I seem to find all my fav stuff on Pinterest... not that Tumblr artists aren’t amazing

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/422634746265452666/

I have two Taiyama kisses that make me super happy and this is one of them, this one is very well drawn and super sexy. Also I 100% love the idea of these two making out in the locker room, yes please!!!

http://rw09.deviantart.com/art/tri-Taichi-and-Yamato-600588069

Love their outfits and Yamato’s expression plus the way he is looking at the camera

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/509329039093047723/

Yamato walking home with Taichi in the rain because Taichi forgot his umbrella ^^ yay

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/422634746265185142/

Dawww, cooking date with their digimon, love <3

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/327003622927517016/

All dressed up, also Taichi’s face *snort*

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/422634746266878712/

okay this is the other kiss I adore, because the face Taichi is making is 100% the face I headcanon him to be making during their first kiss. He looks super nervous and it’s wonderfully adorable

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/472807660864404985/

Taichi is adorable in this, especially the pic of Yamato coming up behind him and playing with his straps. Yamato what are you doing :P

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/ARdb0oLAwI792LgIEbPWdqSLD1Z69lrru1MO3zU0-csLGEwxYuSeqOI/

Guilty pleasure, Yamato pinning Taichi down in anger, Fucken love it

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/372180356690145678/

“Yamato are you sick?”

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/528891549975967643/

the boys at Disney World lol

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/489344315745234039/

okay this one is pretty much only here to say that this is how I want Taichi’s hair to look, similar concept but more toned down... I know I’m a little alone on this but his hair is just too much for me

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/566679565597723711/

Taichi’s face :P Yamato wants some love

http://robertozampari.tumblr.com/post/160262860104/%E6%96%B0%E3%81%97%E3%81%84%CF%89%E3%81%AE%E3%83%81%E3%82%AB%E3%83%A9-author-matsu-jun

they look soo badass

#taichi x yamato #taiyama #taiyama week #taiyamaweek

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taetaespeaches · 4 years ago

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“You did not just bring a fruitcake into my home.”

taehyung x reader (oc) genre: fluff word count: 1.6K

a/n: hi lovelies! I tend to just start writing my Tae fics with little plot in mind and see where it takes me and that’s what this is a result of. I wasn’t sure about it but it’s been both Chlo and Mads approved so I’ll trust them haha. Tae comes to Peaches’/reader’s place with a fruitcake and that’s basically it lmao. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :))

SITTING on the floor of the living room, Yeontan in your lap, you spread the pink watercolor paint across the paper as you hummed along to the music playing from your phone. It was a fairly new hobby still, but you were trying to experiment with all sorts of art mediums.

Your humming was cut off by your own small yelp when the front door suddenly burst open, your gaze snapping from the partially painted sheet to your boyfriend beaming at you brightly. The quirk of your lips in response to the man was natural as Yeontan bolted to greet his dad.

“Peaches,” Taehyung breathed out happily, your eyes widening as you watched him expectantly. “Tannie,” he greeted the pup, kneeling down to pet the dog as Yeontan wiggled with unbridled excitement. “Peaches,” he said again, standing back up to look at you.

“What is happening?” You asked curiously, a small giggle leaving you as he nodded to the kitchen before walking away. “Tae,” you called out, quickly standing up to follow him, watching Yeontan trot along behind Taehyung.

When you reached the kitchen, your boyfriend was holding the dog as he stood at the island, his expression gleeful and adorable. “Why are you in such a good mood?” You asked, searching his frame before your eyes fell to countertop, in which a particularly festive dessert sat. “You did not just bring a fruitcake into my home,” you stated bluntly, though you were mostly kidding.

“Have you ever had a fruitcake before?” He asked, you quirking your head at the baked good sitting on the counter.

“Unfortunately,” you replied, looking up just in time to observe Taehyung as his eyes widened adorably, making him look innocent. He was innocent. Innocently ignorant to the horrors of fruitcakes. “Tae, baby, why do you have a fruitcake?”

“Are they that bad?” He asked in shock, looking down at the cake, lifting the plastic wrap that was draped over it.

“They aren’t good,” you chuckled. “Dearest, where did you get this?”

“Your neighbor,” he answered, still staring at the cake curiously as Yeontan wiggled in his arms, wanting to be put down. “She was so sweet,” Taehyung said as he knelt down to let Yeontan go. “How come I’ve never met her before?”

“How come I’ve never met her before? Which neighbor?” You asked, surprised that he actually ran into one of them, as you rarely ever saw them out and about.

“A few doors down,” he told you, finally looking up from the cake to you. “Her grandkids are here for Christmas and they were doing all sorts of baking,” he informed you, obviously having had an entire conversation with the woman, in true Taehyung fashion.

Staring at the man, you couldn’t help but feel extremely fond of him for being so genuinely kind and approachable. Everyone felt comfortable in his presence, and it was always something you admired about him. It was a trait you wished you had yourself.

“I love you,” you confessed randomly, catching him off guard as a shy smile overtook his features, a low chuckle slipping from between his lips.

Dipping his head down, he looked up at you through his long lashes. “Why all of a sudden?” He asked timidly, only making you even more smitten as you looked at him.

“You’re so genuinely good,” you told him, your heart growing by the second the longer you stared at him. “I love that about you. I adore your soul,” you continued, Taehyung’s smile growing on his face until he was flashing you a bashful boxy grin, shy under your compliments but radiant as the comments penetrated his stature.

“I love you too,” he replied softly. “You’re good too,” he assured you, knowing you far too well as he realized where your thoughts were taking you. He was far too versed in your mind to not realize you were feeling insecure for your aloof and shy demeanor.

“I’ve never stopped to talk to her,” you told him, a sadness seeping into your tone.

Without a word, he stepped toward you and wrapped his arms around the back of your head, yours closing over his waist as he held you close to his chest, comforting you with sweet kisses to your hair. “They made the cake for you,” he whispered, you humming in question. “Yeah,” he told you, leaning back a bit so he could look at you. “The two little kids told me to give it to you.”

“They know me?” You asked in surprise.

“Of course they do,” he smiled warmly. “You’re impossible to miss, Peaches.” Coming from anyone else, the words would have felt empty, easy to negate, but you knew Taehyung very much found you to be unmissable. He’d been telling you since you first met him. It wasn’t just fate that you two met, but also the fact that he simply couldn’t miss you.

Pouting at him, Taehyung stole a kiss from your protruding bottom lip, causing you to smile as a small breathy laugh escaped. “Wanna know their exact words?” He asked, you nodding instantly. “Ahem,” he exaggeratedly cleared his throat, you giggling at him. “Mister, can you get this to the pretty girl with the cute little dog?” he mimicked the cute voices of the kids.

“They did not,” you laughed, your hands soothing over his lower back.

“They did,” he told you with wide eyes, defending himself. “I swear,” he added, a chuckle escaping his lips in response to your amused grin. “They really did,” he remained adamant, giving you a single exaggerated nod of his head.

“Well now I feel bad for saying fruitcake is bad,” you remembered your previous comment, Taehyung smiling widely as a breathy laugh left his lips.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear it,” he assured you as you tugged on your bottom lip with your teeth.

“Thank you,” you nodded with a grin, looking back to the fruitcake on the counter. “Oh my god, fruitcake,” you exclaimed in feigned excitement, Taehyung watching you in pure amusement. “My favorite,” you added, Taehyung falling forward in laughter, resting his chin against your forehead as you giggled at yourself.

You both stayed in each other’s arms like that for a moment longer, Taehyung pressing soft kisses to your forehead as your fingers dragged across the expanse of his lower back. “We need to thank them somehow,” you suddenly spoke, Taehyung pulling back to look at you.

“Hmmm,” he hummed, squinting at you in thought. “Were you watercoloring?” He asked randomly, you cocking your head at him.

“Yeah,” you confirmed questioningly. “I was trying to make a sunset with like a pink sky but,” you dropped off, pulling a face of distaste. “I’m not very good,” you smiled shyly, Taehyung glaring at you.

“You just started,” he told you. “You’re learning.”

“I know,” you said with a small pout.

“You don’t get to determine how good you are yet,” he ranted. “Besides, it’s for fun. How could you ever not be good at something you do for fun?” He questioned, your lips curving into a smile as you stared at him lecturing you. “You’re amazing,” he assured you. “Are you having fun?”

“Yes,” you giggled, Taehyung nodding at you.

“That’s all that matter then, isn’t it?” He continued.

“Yes,” you whispered fondly. “It is.”

“You should paint them a picture,” he suggested. “To thank them.”

You opened your mouth to tell him you didn’t think that was the best way to say thank you when you could barely paint a gradient, but the man pushed his lips to yours to silence you.

Smiling into the kiss, Taehyung giggled against your mouth. “They would love it,” he told you, kissing you once more before pulling away once again. “And if it’s really as bad as you think it is,” he gave you a sharp stare, “which it won’t be,” he interjected, “we’ll just bring Tannie to soften the blow.”

Letting out a breathy laugh at your boyfriend, you smiled widely. “Fine,” you agreed. “But you have to help me.”

“Happily,” he told you. “Should we try this cake?” He asked, looking to the pastry sitting atop the counter.

Taking a deep breath, you let it out in a rushed exhale. “I suppose,” you relented, Taehyung reaching under the plastic wrap to pull a piece off.

“I’ll go first,” he told you, bringing it to is lips. Placing the morsel on his tongue, he tested the taste, giving a thoughtful look as examined the flavors.

“You’re not going to give me any indication on how it is, are you,” you realized, Taehyung flashing you a bratty smile as you huffed. Grabbing a piece for yourself, you quickly tossed it into your mouth, your tastebuds actively trying to figure out what exactly you were exposing them to. “I-” you started, cutting yourself off as you pondered the taste. “It’s not the worst fruitcake I’ve ever had,” you said, trying to sound positive.

“It’s not good though,” Taehyung admitted, causing you to cover your mouth and squeeze your eyes shut as you began laughing at the comment. “We have to pretend we like this, she was the sweetest woman,” he told you in a hurry, feeling guilty for not liking the dessert.

“It was the best fruitcake we’ve ever had,” you nodded. “That’s not even a lie,” you pointed out, Taehyung shooting you a look that silently asked you to elaborate. “It’s your only fruitcake, therefore, the best,” you explained, “and like I said, it’s not the worst I’ve had,” you added.

Your boyfriend fell into a fit of giggles as he grabbed your body, wrapping his arms around your waist as he nuzzled his face against your neck, your arms draping over his shoulders as you laughed with him fondly.

“Best fruitcake we’ve ever had,” he repeated, his breath fanning over your skin in a light tickle.

“The best,” you added, both of you falling into more laughter as you held each other in the kitchen light.

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taetaespeaches · 5 years ago

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“We’re becoming more of a spectacle than the art.”

namjoon x reader (or oc) genre: fluff word count: 1.7K

a/n: ok so here is a museum date with Joonie which was requested ages ago. This is part of the long term Joon/Daisy couple in which they are trying to shift their relationship from a supposed to be one night stand to an actual romantic relationship. It kind of follows after “Please don’t cry”, in which they have a argument/discussion about wanting to get to know each other better outside of Namjoon’s apartment- that fic is not necessary to read for this one, It just shows that these two have been making the effort to date properly, despite having already been intimate. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :))

AFTER a taking an excessive amount of public transport, your anxiety bubbling over the fear of getting lost, you finally arrived at the museum. Looking down at your phone, you saw the text from your date saying he was waiting for you at the entrance of the Lotte Museum of Art, which was at the base of the Lotte World Tower.

Approaching the building, maneuvering your way through the bustling crowds, you spotted your tall handsome man, his eyes scanning the sea of people. When his eyes found yours, his stunning smile overtook his face as he waved cutely at you, standing a little taller.

Though the relationship wasn’t labeled yet, you had been on a few dates at this point, most of them taking place in cafes or perusing small shops. However, it was still a little strange seeing him out in public. A good strange, just different. You returned the smile as you walked toward him, your heart racing at the sight of him because he was there, waiting for you. Only you.

“Babe,” he called out happily when you neared him.

“Next time we’re coming together, I was so fucking scared of getting lost,” you complained with a chuckle, Namjoon’s eyes shooting around the crowd at your loud and public vulgarity, though he chuckled at the outburst.

“I’m sorry,” he smiled as you appeared in front of him, his hand finding your lower back as he leaned forward, leaving a quick but sweet kiss to your lips. “Next time we come together,” he grinned.

“Hi,” you greeted him with a smile, Joon moving his hand from your lower back to swing around your shoulders, pulling you against his side as he walked you toward the doors of the museum.

“I already paid for our entry,” he told you before pressing another kiss to your temple as he held out a brochure of the exhibit you were about to see.

“Ooh, Dan Flavin, right?” You asked as you took the brochure.

“Yeah, he basically abandoned painting for creating these amazing pieces using fluorescent lights, and space,” Namjoon told you as you entered the museum.

“Did you learn all that from this or did you do prior research,” you asked with a smirk, Namjoon letting out an embarrassed breathy chuckle.

“I may have done a bit of research when planning this date,” he told you, dimples on display as you giggled at him.

“You’re adorable,” you cooed as you turned your attention to the pamphlet. You silently read over the information until you found a section you particularly liked, reading it out loud. “Flavin summed up his practice as ‘decisions to combine traditions of painting and sculpture in architecture with acts of electric light defining space.’ The result is a phenomenological experience where the work of art must be experienced in person by a viewer,” you read. “Flavin was taking color out of the confines of the canvas and into our corporeal space.”

Namjoon hummed thoughtfully as he navigated through the museum, leading you both toward the exhibit hall.

“You know, that’s kind of like you,” you told him as you continued to peruse the information in your hands.

Your date thoughtfully looked down at you as he studied your expression while you read. Stopping his movements, you glanced up at him, meeting his gaze. Raising your eyebrows in question, Namjoon gave you a small smile. “What do you mean kind of like me?”

You opened your mouth to speak but stalled a moment as you gathered your thoughts. “With your music,” you told him, Namjoon’s eyes widening in surprise. “You take these traditional styles of hip hop and rap and pop, and even the traditional idol image, and you make them new. You don’t let genre confine you,” you shrugged, unaware of how much your words meant to the man standing beside you.

As you stared up at him, his gaze intense and unwavering, you felt your cheeks flush. “What?”

Namjoon let out a small chuckle as he shook his head. “You’re just amazing,” he told you, resting his forehead against your own. “I don’t think you even know how amazing you are and that’s just fucking shocking to me,” he whispered before his hand found the back of your head as he brought his lips to yours.

You eagerly kissed him back, not unaware that you were in a public space but just not caring in that moment as you allowed him to deepen the kiss for just a moment. Smiling against his lips, you reluctantly pulled away.

“Ok, that’s enough pda for now,” you smirked, Namjoon blushing. “As much as I like you being obsessed with me,” you teased him, Namjoon throwing his head back laughing, “we’re becoming more of a spectacle than the art.”

Your date slowly took a look around at the eyeing pupils surrounding you, a bashful smile overtaking his face as he squeezed his eyes shut. In that moment, he looked so young and excited, and you found yourself admiring the dual presence of youth and maturity he carried around with him.

“You know,” he started, grabbing your hand as he led you into the exhibit. “I’m only a little bit obsessed with you.”

“Oh, just a little bit, huh?” You asked him with an amused smile.

“Little bit,” he told you, holding his fingers up to show you the miniscule amount of obsession he had for you.

“Well,” you shot him a cocky smirk. “Just give me more time to impress you with my wildly interesting mind,” you playfully bragged as you both entered the Dan Flavin: Lights exhibit, the darkened rooms illuminated with different colors of fluorescent lights. “Then you’ll be the proper amount of obsessed,” you informed him as your eyes fell on the displays. While you were figuring out what to make of the installations, Namjoon’s eyes were on you, admiring the way the colorful lights shined on your face.

Stepping behind you, he wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head. “You’ve left several impressions, don’t worry about that, Babe,” he whispered to you before he started walking, both of you stepping closer to one of the displays. “What do you think of this one?”

The display featured a simple structure of a few fluorescent lights sitting perpendicular to each other against the corner of the walls, casting a green and blue glow.

“Can I be honest?” You asked, Namjoon humming a confirmation against your temple. “I don’t really get it,” you giggled. “Like it’s interesting to look at, but what does it mean?”

Namjoon looked at the piece thoughtfully before speaking. “I don’t know, I don’t think the meaning is necessarily as important as the feelings it evokes.”

You smiled at that but dipped your head to look down at your feet bashfully, your shoes glowing in green and blue light. “I love art, and I love the almost lack of clarity that comes with abstract media, but to be completely blatant, I don’t understand what the fuck Mr. Flavin was doing with these fluorescent lights,” you bit your lip, turning your face toward Namjoon’s just in time to see his mouth spread into a wide smile as a laugh fell from his lips.

You both turned toward the piece again as Namjoon told you, “it makes me feel calm.”

Your lips curved upward at the comment as you nodded. “I get that. I feel a bit melancholy looking at it.” Namjoon looked toward you again as his arms slid off your body, his eyes following you as you made your way to another display.

Slowly following behind you, he watched as you turned toward the lights, your side profile illuminated with pink and orange hues. He found himself pulling his phone out of his pocket and he shot a few photos of you in the glow of the art. Turning to find him, you caught him taking photos and smiled bashfully before pulling a few silly faces as he walked toward you, snapping photos as he neared you.

“I like this one more,” you told him. “It’s warm. Makes me feel comforted.”

Namjoon smiled at you as he nodded. “I agree. Kind of gives off the feeling of compassion.” With his dimples on display, his eyes kind and attentive as he looked back at you, his face glowing in pink with orange highlights, your heart raced as feelings of intense tenderness and fondness rushed through your being.

“Maybe even the feeling of love. Giving love, receiving love,” you whispered as the realization hit you that you may be falling in love with him.

The smile on his face only widened as he let out a single breathy laugh before nodding. “Yeah, love. I feel that too.”

It wasn’t a confession- not yet, at least, but more an admission to yourselves of where your feelings were headed. “Hang on,” you told him suddenly as you pulled out your own phone. “We better get a few shots of you, you know, for your twitter,” you grinned. You were using the excuse of twitter updates to cover up the fact that you just wanted to capture Namjoon in this moment, and he knew that, nodding exaggeratedly.

“Of course, for twitter,” he smiled as he prepared to pose, though you had already started snapping photos. “This definitely won’t be your phone background later I’m sure,” he teased, you chuckling as you shook your head.

“Shut up and pose,” you defended weakly with a smile, Namjoon laughing as you captured the moment to look back on.

Namjoon wouldn’t find out for another week that your phone background just happened to be a photo of him mid-laugh, his skin cast in a warm glow of pink and orange lights. But he would reveal at the same time that his background was you pulling a ridiculous face, slightly blurred, cast in the same light.

After taking a few photos of Namjoon for him to actually post on twitter for his fans, he walked toward you, you holding out the phone to show him the shots. “These suitable for you, Mr. Kim?” You asked, however he ignored your question and the photos, grabbing your face between his hands and crashing his lips to yours.

Your hands hung to your sides in surprise as you pulled back a bit, smiling at the way he chased your lips. “More pda? Control yourself,” you teased, Namjoon scoffing as he chuckled.

“Shut up and kiss me,” he told you as he pressed his mouth to yours again. This time your hands gripped the sides of his abdomen, allowing him to deepen the kiss, because, well, if he insisted.

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