#I don’t know if I want to contribute/participate in a ship that is heading down a route I don’t want to witness again

[cupidskissx]

I’ve seen a lot of commentary / comparisons to Lestappen and Larry over the past few months and as someone who never shipped them but saw first-hand how detrimental it was to Harry and Louis’ relationship it makes me feel genuinely sick. To the point I have had very serious thoughts about leaving the fandom to avoid the association.

Tumblr has always been such a safe space to obsess over your ship and find friends who share your same delusions. The beauty is, and always has been, the freedom to go feral over them — to exaggerate and fantasise in the shadows — all in the name of fun because we know deep down we don’t actually believe any of it.

The recent mainstream attention is becoming increasingly more concerning because things can get out of hand extremely quickly. When some fans move out of safe spaces, or start their shipping journey on sites like X or Instagram, their views on boundaries can easily warp. They are able to freely tag the people they are talking about, or worse, try to find more drastic ways to get their attention.

I’m not saying the entire fandom on those sites is toxic but it’s a lot easier for lines to be crossed in spaces the real people occupy as well.

It’s getting to the point where I’m not sure if we can go back, or if it’s too late and I’m going to have to watch a fandom I love be torn apart all over again…

[missjanjie]

The Heart May Freeze (Or it Can Burn) | Fic Exchange

so! here is my contribution to this year's fic exchange <3 im really happy to see everyone's participation and hope everyone has enjoyed the process. this year, my fic is for @thecollectionsof so i rly hope u like it!!!

Ship: Crygi (Crystal/Gigi) Rating: Teen Word Count: 1304 TWs: Drug use

and yes... this did kinda end up being a 'light my candle' songfic

-

“Ah, shit,” Crystal murmured as she looked at her phone. It would be in the low forties for the rest of the night, not the most ideal time to have a power outage, but she was grateful she wasn’t stuck without heat during a Missouri winter. She sighed as she put her phone on low-power mode and slid it into the pocket of her sweatpants. The silence compounded the Christmas loneliness, but she knew if she gave into it, she’d be miserable even after the lights came back on.

The boredom she was anticipating hadn’t even set in when she heard a knock at the door. She figured it was the property manager or handyman, so when she opened the door to a skinny, blonde girl that she loosely recognized as her neighbor. “Oh, you’re…” Her brows knitted together as she tried to recall her name, but her train of thought ventured off the tracks when she noticed the girl was only wearing a cropped tube top and mini skirt. “You’re shivering.”

“Well, yes. It’s cold,” the blonde replied flippantly. “Do you have an extra flashlight or anything?”

Crystal ushered her inside before answering, closing the door behind them. “Yeah, hold on, let me grab you a sweatshirt first.” She quickly ducked into her bedroom and came back with a tye-dye hoodie, offering it out.

“Thanks,” she smiled and pulled it on. “I’m Gigi, by the way. I live across the hall.”

She nodded and replied, “Crystal.”

Gigi tilted her head, then shrugged. “That’s not really my thing, but I know a guy that can hook you–”

“My name is Crystal,” she laughed. “If I wanted to do meth, I wouldn’t have left Missouri.”

“Oh! You’re from the Midwest. So am I, I’m from Illinois. I moved here for college, but that wasn’t for me. Then I got into modeling, which is, like, so much fun. For the most part, anyway. Do you work? I mean, obviously you work. No one can afford to live here without working. Well, unless you have rich parents or–”

“Woah, hey, slow down.” Crystal blinked rapidly as she tried to absorb any of what Gigi was saying, which proved to be difficult as she was talking a mile a minute. “Why don’t you sit down? Those shoes can’t be comfortable,” she remarked, gesturing to the six-inch stilettos on her feet before guiding her to sit on the couch. “Let me go look for another flashlight,” she said before disappearing back into her room. 

Gigi sat still for roughly ten seconds before taking off her shoes and curiously wandering around the apartment. She was fascinated by the eclectic decor cluttering the space, the unique colors and shapes entrancing her as if she were a baby watching an adult jingling keys in front of her. 

As Crystal exited her room, she remarked, “I found this one.” She took a half-step back when it seemed like she spooked Gigi. “Sorry, um, I found this. It’s a little small, but it should be fine,” she explained as she held it out to her. 

She just grinned, seemingly unfazed as she took the flashlight. “Thanks! I like all of your tchotchkes and stuff, by the way. Where do you find all of it?”

“Thanks, I’ve either thrifted or made most of it.”

Gigi nodded as she listened, though she was becoming increasingly jittery, eyes darting around the room as she bounced on her feet. “Can I use your bathroom?” As soon as Crystal nodded and pointed her in the right direction, she ran in. But after barely a minute, she rushed back out, cursing under her breath as she ran to her apartment.

Crystal blinked, trying to process whatever just happened. She glanced down, noticing the pair of stilettos that Gigi came in wearing, which only made the whole situation seem more bizarre. Though it did prevent her from being surprised when she barged right back in about five minutes later. “Hey, you left your–”

“Oh!” She perked up and looked over at her, only for her expression to immediately drop when she realized it wasn’t what she was looking for. “Oh. Right,” she murmured and took her shoes. 

As she leaned down to put on her heels, she started to look around. “I think that I dropped my stash,” she mumbled, forgoing her shoes again, this time to look for it. “Little baggie of… sugar. It’s important,” she explained, then huffed, “help me look!” 

Crystal let out an exasperated sigh. It wasn’t her first encounter with someone on coke, though she noticed the high was much shorter than she had assumed if she was already jonesing for more. But her train of thought stalled as her eyes raked over Gigi’s body. It started at her hair, how it nearly seemed to sparkle under the moonlight and rest perfectly against her. Then slowly, her gaze started to drift.

“It’s not up my ass, I’d suggest looking elsewhere,” Gigi chuckled, sitting on the backs of her legs and looking up to her. “Come on, I’m not gonna see my guy til New Year’s Day.”

She clicked her tongue and helped her up. “Why don’t you forget that stuff? You look like you’re nineteen.” 

“Why thank you,” she chirped, wearing the mistake as a badge of honor. “I’m twenty-two. I finished college. Kinda. I’m basically an adult, mature for my age,” she winked. 

Crystal couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “How long have the old men that buy your blow been telling you that for, huh?” She guided her back down to the couch. In the process, she noticed a small plastic baggie underfoot and tried to pick it up as subtly as possible and tucked it into the pocket of her sweats. 

“What was that?”

“Oh, it’s just a… candy bar wrapper,” she replied flippantly as she sat down and picked the flashlight back up, pressing the switch a few times, brows furrowing more each time. “Shit, battery’s dead.”

“Our eyes will adjust,” Gigi hummed airily. “Look at how bright the moon is.”

Crystal looked out the window. “Pretty sure those are the lights from Grauman’s. They’re doing a Christmas movie showing tonight.”

She scoffed. “You’re no fun,” she murmured, but cuddled up to her regardless.

“You’re freezing,” she frowned, wrapping her arms around the smaller woman, her hand resting just under the fabric of her hoodie and realizing just how thin the material of her outfit was, like it could disintegrate under her touch. Frankly, she felt similar about Gigi herself, that neither seemed to have any idea how close they were to falling apart. “And you’re too much fun, so let’s call it even,” she chuckled dryly. 

Gigi shifted from cuddling next to Crystal to lying on top of her, carding her fingers through the mess of curly hair. “Then I guess we’ll just have to meet somewhere in the middle,” she smirked.

Crystal couldn’t respond before Gigi was kissing her. Against her better judgement, she kissed back. Her arms wrapped around her, rubbing her back as their tongues swirled together. It had been longer than she was willing to admit since someone had kissed her like that, and her body was craving it, melting into it for as long as her body would allow.

When Gigi pulled back, her smirk was even broader. “We should do this again sometime.” As she sat back, she held up the baggie she had slipped back out of Crystal’s pocket. She got up and grabbed her shoes, deciding to carry them out. “Come see me sometime, you know where to find me,” she winked as she headed to the door.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, groaning as she got up. She looked at her and despite herself, smiled. “Yeah, yeah. Merry Christmas, Gigi.”

[sasorikigai]

“Can’t even get out of my grasp? Or is it because you secretly don’t want to?” (modern!)

IN LOVE AND WAR, EVERYTHING GOES || @kuroyrii || accepting

💥 || Perhaps their love is more like a chemical reaction, rearranging his brain, his guts, the blood in his veins. As they touch, their cold skin exposed in the elements, it burns to the touch. Being the killers they are, with capabilities to plunge the glinting silver blade where it hurts the most, where they can get the most blood as the poor unfortunate victim would look at them like a domesticated animal with their severed arteries. They know how to tear apart anyone's skin, see their spine exposed, as they poke and prod every little ridge to cause excruciating, unspeakable pain. They take joy in being an observer; treasuring the ability to take the complexities of the world and make it palpable to their unwilling participants. A simple recoil of the firearm would not bring satisfaction on one of those days, as Hanzo Hasashi yearns to become the paradoxical tenderness amidst the devouring viciousness, digging his mighty claws into their flesh, as if he was ravenously devastate what is his to begin with. Their flesh will shrivel, bones hollow, and lives dwindle to nothing. Even when the teeth of their world remain sharp, they become more resilient and sharper along with it.

And even when restlessness taps away at his exhausted bones, sending cold shivers down his spine and into his toes, how his heartbeat twirls and dances under the gentle spring, and yet - how it could feel like a slap in the face, as he would resent every melodious bird song that needled its way through his duvet tomb. How every resplendent blossom that he used to marble at his zenith would merely seem as if they were flaunting their fleeting life. How he wished to press them down into the newly-thawed earth with the toe of his boot, until the petals were torn and muddied by the dirty feeling of false justice settling like a blanket around his bones. But in the end, all of it would have been completely uninterrupted by the devastation in his life. When at first he found it to be mocking, he would find comfort in its steady force.

His memories are mere fragile dreams woven from near-inaudible whispers, and Hanzo no longer becomes torn apart by either the harsh light of reality or the ungraspable perfection of idealized dreams. In all, Sayuri Kobayashi has an inner beauty about a woman who believes in herself, who knows she is capable of anything that she puts her mind to. Equipped with such manifestation of a beauty in the strength and determination of a woman who follows her own path, who isn't thrown off by obstacles along the way. Her confidence comes from experiences; just as Harumi Hasashi had been a woman who can fall, pick herself up, and more on. "I believe I have already revealed my heart's content, haven't I?" For once, he doesn't have this gut-wrenching pain in his chest when he thinks of his bereaved wife. His head isn't racing with thoughts of her going a million miles a minute.

How metaphorical fire dances across Hanzo's solemn face as he feels his heart and soul burn. How he once thought he'd never get this far, but even as he felt as if he was going to be burned all to ash, he'd start all over again. Whether it had been a newfound love, or absolute unyielding devotion and trust towards his beloved. "You may be the sun that's governing and contributing to life, the air that I breath, bringing vitality and life forces, the water at my feet bringing my lost ship to shore, and the earth; strong and confident, a formidable mountain I could climb forevermore. And I hope to become the fire; sacred light inside you, a flame that will never die." How he yearns to show all of him; unhindered and unbidden, all of his light and dark, flaws and imperfections, grit and resilience through agony and despair that he won't ever hide. 💥 ||

[duckprintspress]

How can I return to writing after a long hiatus?

This post is based on a conversation we had in the Duck Prints Press LLC Discord, and all contributors comments have been used/paraphrased/integrated into this post with permission. The people who contributed ideas to this post are: @nottesilhouette, @ramblingandpie, @arialerendeair, @tryslora, @deansmultitudes, @theleakypen, Owlish Intergalactic, myself (I’m @unforth), and one who preferred to remain anonymous.

Few things are harder than coming back to writing after a long period of not writing. Being creative takes a lot of energy, and starting after not doing so for a period of time takes even more energy. The writers on our Discord had a really productive discussion, where we talked about strategies we’ve each personally used to help us get our writing mojo back. None of these methods work for everyone, but if you haven’t written in a while, maybe one of these will work for you!

How to Revive that Creative Writing Spark:

doing sprints with a friend - knowing you’re all in it together can really help!

talking with writing buddies about what you’re each working on - the shared enthusiasm can be really helpful,

journaling, about daily life, or about dreams you’ve had - turning the dream into something coherent can be a great strategy (or, don’t bother, and just write it however crazily it took place!)

pick a random story you wrote in the past and read a chapter, paragraph, or 500 word segment - and look at it as a reader, say things you liked about it, praise it, emphasize the good things about your own writing.

transcribe a song with lyrics you find inspiring, or crack open a favorite book and transcribe a few paragraphs. You can even do it with something you’ve written yourself!

set a low-pressure, low-word count deadline - make it public, if you’re the kind of person that helps, or keep it to yourself.

sign up for a zero-consequence challenge, such as a bingo, or the Duck Prints Press #drabbledaysaturday prompts on Twitter - something where no one will mind if you don’t succeed, but you might find some inspiration.

create a small goal, either daily, weekly, or monthly - it can be a time frame (I’ll write for 5 minutes a day!) or a word count (I’ll write 1,000 words a month!) or even something tiny (I’ll write one sentence a day!) or a public sharing goal (post a ficlet a day!) and then do your best to stick to it, and reward yourself when you succeed.

open your ask box or otherwise solicit short prompts - for example, do a “three sentence” meme (”send me a pairing and a trope and I’ll write a three sentence fill”) or a story title meme (”send me a story title and I’ll write a little about the story I’d create with that title”) or an emoji prompt (”send me three emojis and I’ll write a ficlet”) or make your own fun one that will bring you joy (one of our writers created a “name two characters and I’ll make them kiss in six sentences or less” meme that helped them a lot)

participate in a prompt month, something with no consequences for failure but with prompts that can inspire daily ficlet.

write without editing, and just throw what you create out into the world - anything to get the words flowing.

challenge yourself to write a drabble day, no more and no less.

try changing how or when you write - get a nice journal and write by hand, or if that’s your normal, try writing in a word document instead.

write at different times of day, and see if it’s easier for you over breakfast, or after lights out, or during your lunch break, or by stealing a few minutes while you’re “on the clock” at work.

make an attempt at different formats of writing - if you usually write prose, try a poem; if you usually write really long things, try a drabble.

look out your window, or find a place you like, and just describe what you see.

do some free association exercises - for example, use a random word generator (I use this one sometimes) and then write literally whatever word comes into your head next - keep going until you fill the page, or until it starts to turn into a story, or just until you don’t feel like it any longer.

pick a random sentence (the person who suggested this often uses “Just write anything”) to be the start of a story, and “pants” your way through whatever comes next, without worrying about grammar, continuity, logic, or much of anything.

plan ahead - schedule your writing time and don’t let yourself put it off (rewards for success are always good!) and/or visualize exactly what you want to write ahead so you’re ready when you sit down.

if you get hit by inspiration, don’t put it off - even if all you do is scrawl a sentence in your phone or on scratch paper between other tasks, get it out of your head. Even a single sentence is a creation!

get out of the spaces where your usual things are - go to a park, or on a hike, or in your backyard, or even a different room in your own home, and bring a journal or phone or laptop, and see what strikes you.

pick That Thing You Haven’t Been Letting Yourself Write and ignore all the things you Think You Should Be Writing and just...write what brings you joy

fanfiction can be very helpful, especially in canon using canon-compliant ships/characterizations - there’s no need to do the heavy lifting. Even if you just write the characters going to a grocery store, or talking about what movie they want to watch, or arguing over take out - something short and sweet that’s just for fun, with no expectations for yourself or anyone else.

alternatively, if you’re the type who writes better for others and you’re feeling down - knock out anything, even something short, and post it, and take joy even in a single like or kudos. Knowing even one person out there loved what you wrote can really help.

Any or all of these may help you, but there’s one final one that I, at least, think is the most important of all - and that’s helped me most.

FORGIVE YOURSELF. You have work in progress up. It’s okay to leave them. You told someone you’d write something for them. It’s okay not to. You have a deadline looming. It’s okay to ask for more time, or to withdraw, or - in the end - it’s even okay to ghost. You think what you’ve made is bad. It’s okay if it’s bad. You’ll never be able to create when you’re raking yourself over the coals. Everyone in fandom has “been there” - has missed deadlines, has left challenges, has abandoned works in progress, have reneged on a promise to a friend to write something. Until you forgive yourself, you’ll never be able to create anything, and isn’t even a single sentence that isn’t on that Big Important Thing better than no sentences on anything?

Forgive yourself, and find that spark, inspiration, muse, whatever you want to call it - and write things that bring you joy.

We believe in you!

YOU CAN DO IT!

[qqueenofhades]

Hi. I’m curious. What did you mean by “women who read fiction might get Bad Ideas!!!” has just reached its latest and stupidest form via tumblr purity culture.? I haven’t seen any of this but I’m new to tumblr.

Oh man. You really want to get me into trouble on, like, my first day back, don’t you?

Pretty much all of this has been explained elsewhere by people much smarter than me, so this isn’t necessarily going to say anything new, but I’ll do my best to synthesize and summarize it. As ever, it comes with the caveat that it is my personal interpretation, and is not intended as the be-all, end-all. You’ll definitely run across it if you spend any time on Tumblr (or social media in general, including Twitter, and any other fandom-related spaces). This will get long.

In short: in the nineteenth century, when Gothic/romantic literature became popular and women were increasingly able to read these kinds of novels for fun, there was an attendant moral panic over whether they, with their weak female brains, would be able to distinguish fiction from reality, and that they might start making immoral or inappropriate choices in their real life as a result. Obviously, there was a huge sexist and misogynistic component to this, and it would be nice to write it off entirely as just hysterical Victorian pearl-clutching, but that feeds into the “lol people in the past were all much stupider than we are today” kind of historical fallacy that I often and vigorously shut down. (Honestly, I’m not sure how anyone can ever write the “omg medieval people believed such weird things about medicine!” nonsense again after what we’ve gone through with COVID, but that is a whole other rant.) The thinking ran that women shouldn’t read novels for fear of corrupting their impressionable brains, or if they had to read novels at all, they should only be the Right Ones: i.e., those that came with a side of heavy-handed and explicit moralizing so that they wouldn’t be tempted to transgress. Of course, books trying to hammer their readers over the head with their Moral Point aren’t often much fun to read, and that’s not the point of fiction anyway. Or at least, it shouldn’t be.

Fast-forward to today, and the entire generation of young, otherwise well-meaning people who have come to believe that being a moral person involves only consuming the “right” kind of fictional content, and being outrageously mean to strangers on the internet who do not agree with that choice. There are a lot of factors contributing to this. First, the advent of social media and being subject to the judgment of people across the world at all times has made it imperative that you demonstrate the “right” opinions to fit in with your peer-group, and on fandom websites, that often falls into a twisted, hyper-critical, so-called “progressivism” that diligently knows all the social justice buzzwords, but has trouble applying them in nuance, context, and complicated real life. To some extent, this obviously is not a bad thing. People need to be critical of the media they engage with, to know what narratives the creator(s) are promoting, the tropes they are using, the conclusions that they are supporting, and to be able to recognize and push back against genuinely harmful content when it is produced – and this distinction is critical – by professional mainstream creators. Amateur, individual fan content is another kettle of fish. There is a difference between critiquing a professional creator (though social media has also made it incredibly easy to atrociously abuse them) and attacking your fellow fan and peer, who is on the exact same footing as you as a consumer of that content.

Obviously, again, this doesn’t mean that you can’t call out people who are engaging in actually toxic or abusive behavior, fans or otherwise. But certain segments of Tumblr culture have drained both those words (along with “gaslighting”) of almost all critical meaning, until they’re applied indiscriminately to “any fictional content that I don’t like, don’t agree with, or which doesn’t seem to model healthy behavior in real life” and “anyone who likes or engages with this content.” Somewhere along the line, a reactionary mindset has been formed in which the only fictional narratives or relationships are those which would be “acceptable” in real life, to which I say…. what? If I only wanted real life, I would watch the news and only read non-fiction. Once again, the underlying fear, even if it’s framed in different terms, is that the people (often women) enjoying this content can’t be trusted to tell the difference between fiction and reality, and if they like “problematic” fictional content, they will proceed to seek it out in their real life and personal relationships. And this is just… not true.

As I said above, critical media studies and thoughtful consumption of entertainment are both great things! There have been some great metas written on, say, the Marvel Cinematic Universe and how it is increasingly relying on villains who have outwardly admirable motives (see: the Flag Smashers in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier) who are then stigmatized by their anti-social, violent behavior and attacks on innocent people, which is bad even as the heroes also rely on violence to achieve their ends. This is a clever way to acknowledge social anxieties – to say that people who identify with the Flag Smashers are right, to an extent, but then the instant they cross the line into violence, they’re upsetting the status quo and need to be put down by the heroes. I watched TFATWS and obviously enjoyed it. I have gone on a Marvel re-watching binge recently as well. I like the MCU! I like the characters and the madcap sci-fi adventures! But I can also recognize it as a flawed piece of media that I don’t have to accept whole-cloth, and to be able to criticize some of the ancillary messages that come with it. It doesn’t have to be black and white.

When it comes to shipping, moreover, the toxic culture of “my ship is better than your ship because it’s Better in Real Life” ™ is both well-known and in my opinion, exhausting and pointless. As also noted, the whole point of fiction is that it allows us to create and experience realities that we don’t always want in real life. I certainly enjoy plenty of things in fiction that I would definitely not want in reality: apocalyptic space operas, violent adventures, and yes, garbage men. A large number of my ships over the years have been labeled “unhealthy” for one reason or another, presumably because they don’t adhere to the stereotype of the coffee-shop AU where there’s no tension and nobody ever makes mistakes or is allowed to have serious flaws. And I’m not even bagging on coffee-shop AUs! Some people want to remove characters from a violent situation and give them that fluff and release from the nonstop trauma that TV writers merrily inflict on them without ever thinking about the consequences. Fanfiction often focuses on the psychology and healing of characters who have been through too much, and since that’s something we can all relate to right now, it’s a very powerful exercise. As a transformative and interpretive tool, fanfic is pretty awesome.

The problem, again, comes when people think that fic/fandom can only be used in this way, and that going the other direction, and exploring darker or complicated or messy dynamics and relationships, is morally bad. As has been said before: shipping is not activism. You don’t get brownie points for only having “healthy” ships (and just my personal opinion as a queer person, these often tend to be heterosexual white ships engaging in notably heteronormative behavior) and only supporting behavior in fiction that you think is acceptable in real life. As we’ve said, there is a systematic problem in identifying what that is. Ironically, for people worried about Women Getting Ideas by confusing fiction and reality, they’re doing the same thing, and treating fiction like reality. Fiction is fiction. Nobody actually dies. Nobody actually gets hurt. These people are not real. We need to normalize the idea of characters as figments of a creator’s imagination, not actual people with their own agency. They exist as they are written, and by the choice of people whose motives can be scrutinized and questioned, but they themselves are not real. Nor do characters reflect the author’s personal views. Period.

This feeds into the fact that the internet, and fandom culture, is not intended as a “safe space” in the sense that no questionable or triggering content can ever be posted. Archive of Our Own, with its reams of scrupulous tagging and requests for you to explicitly click and confirm that you are of age to see M or E-rated content, is a constant target of the purity cultists for hosting fictional material that they see as “immoral.” But it repeatedly, unmistakably, directly asks you for your consent to see this material, and if you then act unfairly victimized, well… that’s on you. You agreed to look at this, and there are very few cases where you didn’t know what it entailed. Fandom involves adults creating contents for adults, and while teenagers and younger people can and do participate, they need to understand this fact, rather than expecting everything to be a PG Disney movie.

When I do write my “dark” ships with garbage men, moreover, they always involve a lot of the man being an idiot, being bluntly called out for an idiot, and learning healthier patterns of behavior, which is one of the fundamental patterns of romance novels. But they also involve an element of the woman realizing that societal standards are, in fact, bullshit, and she can go feral every so often, as a treat. But even if I wrote them another way, that would still be okay! There are plenty of ships and dynamics that I don’t care for and don’t express in my fic and fandom writing, but that doesn’t mean I seek out the people who do like them and reprimand them for it. I know plenty of people who use fiction, including dark fiction, in a cathartic way to process real-life trauma, and that’s exactly the role – one of them, at least – that fiction needs to be able to fulfill. It would be terribly boring and limited if we were only ever allowed to write about Real Life and nothing else. It needs to be complicated, dark, escapist, unreal, twisted, and whatever else. This means absolutely zilch about what the consumers of this fiction believe, act, or do in their real lives.

Once more, I do note the misogyny underlying this. Nobody, after all, seems to care what kind of books or fictional narratives men read, and there’s no reflection on whether this is teaching them unhealthy patterns of behavior, or whether it predicts how they’ll act in real life. (There was some of that with the “do video games cause mass shootings?”, but it was a straw man to distract from the actual issues of toxic masculinity and gun culture.) Certain kinds of fiction, especially historical fiction, romance novels, and fanfic, are intensely gendered and viewed as being “women’s fiction” and therefore hyper-criticized, while nobody’s asking if all the macho-man potboiler military-intrigue tough-guy stereotypical “men’s fiction” is teaching them bad things. So the panic about whether your average woman on the internet is reading dark fanfic with an Unhealthy Ship (zomgz) is, in my opinion, misguided at best, and actively destructive at worst.

[sheyshocked]

Can You Deviate Twice?

Summary: Some people never wisen. Unfortunately, Simon seems to be one of them. But who knew you could deviate for love twice? First day of Simarkus Week 2022, prompt Deviation day.

Ship: Simon/Markus (Detroit: Become Human)

Warnings: Implied/Referenced Past Sexual Abuse

Tags: Fluff, Getting Together, First Kiss, Gay Simon (Detroit: Become Human), Simon (Detroit: Become Human) Backstory, Soft Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Markus Loves Simon (Detroit: Become Human), Set Before Stratford Tower, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Wordcount: 1,006

A/N: I've probably told you all of this before, but back when Simarkus Week started in 2020, I didn't get to participate, so hosting it now is my dream come true. You won't believe how excited I'm to see other people's contributions!

Btw, I love the popular theory that Simon deviated for love. It’s pretty interesting headcanon, although I don’t use it in most of my fics. It fit this one though, so... here we are.  

You can also read it on ao3!

“And what’s your story, Simon? What led you to Jericho?” Markus asked one day, during one of their precious few moments of respite, his head slightly tilted to the side like a curious puppy. It was such an interesting contrast with his otherwise strong, leader personality it made Simon smile despite the panic that took hold of him inside.

It all started so nice and optimistic. They’ve just returned after yet another successful mission, so a small celebration was in order. But before they could even start, Markus disappeared without a trace. No one knew where he went, not even North or Josh.

Some people started to worry and wanted to go search for him, in case he ran into some trouble, but Simon calmed them down, saying he probably wanted to plan their next move somewhere in peace. He also preferred silence to this overwhelming bustle of the slowly rejuvenating Jericho, even though it was good to see it transform from a graveyard into... something else entirely. Regardless, he wasn’t concerned about something happening to their beloved leader.

It was when the growing buzz of Jericho started slowly getting to him (it was never so crowded or noisy before – all Markus’ doing, and Simon couldn’t help but admire him for uniting their people in such a short time notice), that he decided to go to his favorite spot on the roof. Most of them sometimes sought refuge under the sky away from prying eyes. But he certainly didn’t expect to find Markus there, sitting with his legs thrown over the edge, nursing a bottle of thirium.

He froze on the spot. Markus probably didn’t want to be disturbed, so he slowly turned around and started to leave, only to be stopped by Markus’ velvety voice, calling his name. When he turned back, he saw Markus waving at him to join with a small tired smile.

That’s how he found himself here, just hanging out with their admired leader, enjoying the calm and silence or swapping stories. Simon felt a small jolt of electricity run up his wires whenever their legs brushed against one another. It was ridiculous, honestly. How long was this bright, wonderful man with them? A few days at most? And he already held so much power over Jericho... and over Simon as well, probably without him even realizing it.

But then he asked that question, and the charm of the situation disappeared. Simon’s fight or flight reflex immediately started to kick in, and he gave him a tight-lipped smile, hoping that it would hide the anxiety he felt.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” he shook his head and thought it to be over. But oh boy, how wrong he was.

“It matters to me. I won’t force you if you don’t want to tell me, of course, but I would like to get to know you. If you would only let me,” Markus replied in the most honest tone possible and was met with a surprised glance. Oh no. Simon was already feeling the telltale tickling inside his chassis as if bugs got stuck in his chest cavity during routine maintenance (no matter how ridiculous and also kind of disturbing that thought was). All he could think of was...

Not again.

“I trust you. But it’s...” He heaved a sigh and took another long sip of the thirium to calm himself down. All right. He could do this. After all, he trusted Markus with his life. “Well, the truth is that I fell in love with my owner. He was a very kind person but never felt the same way about me. When he found out, he dumped me by the docks to rot.”

Markus listened intently, and when he fell silent again, a shadow of genuine disconcertment crossed his handsome features. “Oh, Simon, that’s horrible. I’m so sorry you had to endure something like this.”

For someone as good at public speeches as he was, he really was terrible at this. One would say clumsy as a newborn foal (which made Simon question for how long was he even deviant in the first place). But for some reason, it only made Simon fall for him more.

On the spur of the moment, he gave him a soft smile and squeezed his elbow to let him know that he appreciated the thought. It was meant to be a normal touch between two close friends. Or at least look like it. Nothing more. Simon didn’t mean to let his skin recede, and for Markus’ as well, mingling their minds together for a few short moments before they both jolted away from each other, gasping and trying to take in what they just saw.

“I... those were your memories. The night when you found us, you had to drag yourself from a junkyard, after being gunned down without even being questioned.”

“I saw yours as well. That man, he used you in every way, then threw you away like you meant nothing to him. And... also the way you look at me when I’m not watching...” Markus had to blink to get rid of all the images he just witnessed, and Simon’s heart sank. He never wanted to show him this, and now he knew and would abandon him, just like Jason did. But before he could say anything to save the situation, he felt a pair of warm lips touch his. It was a fleeting, delicate meeting, but Simon dived into it like a man drowning, despite himself and all he ever promised.

When they parted, Markus still held his face in his hands, their foreheads touching, reluctant to let go. It was so tender Simon might cry. And then Markus breathed out between their lips: “For what it’s worth, I will never leave you behind, as he did.”

Simon suddenly couldn’t tell the floor from the open sky. Everything felt so... surreal and wonderful, once he silenced that voice that kept telling him that this wouldn’t last.

Was it possible to deviate twice?

[tuamermay]

Welcome to...

The Umbrella Academy MerMay Challenge 2021!

This is a TUA fandom challenge celebrating all things merpeople AU! This is our first year running MerMay and we are excited to get started.

Do you have a merperson AU swimming about in your head that’s itching to get out? Now is the time to create that fanwork and share with other merperson enthusiasts in our lovely fandom.

Whether you ship any pairing/grouping or are a gen enthusiast; a fic writer, artist or graphic maker; we are welcoming all types of TUA Merperson fanworks for this event. Keep reading below to find out how to participate!

Who is running this thing?

This fest is being run by @electric016 and @goldieknocks! We appreciate everyone’s patience and support with this and would welcome any reblogs and promotion you guys can offer so we can get as many people participating as possible <3

Hosted by: Elliott’s House Discord Server. If you’re 18+ and down to ship and let ship, come join us!

What exactly is the #TUA MerMay 2021 challenge?

The TUA MerMay Challenge is a challenge for works in The Umbrella Academy fandom. The challenge happens in May, where artists, graphics makers and writers from all around the TUA fandom contribute Merpeople themed fanworks in response to the MerMay prompts. The name MerMay is a combination of two words – Mermaid, and May.

It starts at the beginning of May and lasts till the end of the month – for those wishing to challenge themselves, they can create a fanwork for every day during May (there are 31 prompts!).

Of course, not everyone has time to prepare something for each day in May, so you can join the challenge by creating at least one fanwork in response to a prompt!

Where Can I Find the TUA MerMay Prompts?

The prompt list will be published on 1 April 2021. Stay tuned!

How to submit your work:

This challenge will accept all types of fanworks that meet the criteria of both an Umbrella Academy fanwork AND Mer theme (we don’t mind if you take some creative license though!).

To ensure that your work is added to our collection for 2021, please do the following:

Add your fanwork to the TUA MerMay Challenge 2021 on AO3:

Fully utilise the AO3 tagging system and accurately tag your work

Tag the prompt that you have filled

Post your fanwork to Tumblr

Tag @tuamermay

Use the hashtag #tua mermay 2021

Tag the prompt you have filled

On the TUA MerMay blog you can find a list of prompts for each day. It’s not mandatory to stick to the list, you can use them just as inspiration.

Rule for Participants

1. Everyone is allowed to enter.

Yes, Elliott’s House is an adult-only server, but this an open event for any TUA fans that want to participate, including minors as well if they would like to join in. You do not have to be a member of EH to enter.

2. Any ships, or TUA characters are pre-approved for this event.

Whether you choose to do your work based off your favourite ship, or decide to take a more ship-free route, you’re completely valid and welcome to enter! We will not restrict you based on these parameters.

3. All entries are to be submitted via the methods outlined above.

The Ao3 collection for the event can be found HERE

If for whatever reason you encounter any trouble, please send a private/direct message to the official tumblr. Your media *can* be uploaded to an alternative vehicle such as deviant-art, pillowfort, etc, but it must not be revealed until May!

Please do not publish your entry elsewhere until after 1 May 2021.

4. Fanfics may be any rating but Fanart/GIFs must be rated M or below

I know explicit fanart isn’t very common in this fandom, but to cover our bases, we have to make this small restriction. The only reasons for this is that a) it will be a fandom-wide event that includes any given group of fans of any age, and it’s important we’re being respectful of that and b) additionally, having to rely on Tumblr with the new rules potentially purging or deleting our account is no bueno. It sucks, but it’s what we’ve got.

There are no restrictions on fanfic rating, but as always, enter at your own risk & read the tags!

[with-my-murder-flute]

Hi everybody, thanks for the asks letting me know I made the top of @yusuftiddies’ list of Homophobes in TOG Fandom, you can stop sending them now.

So.

I can make mistakes and fuck up and own that. I am serious about listening to marginalized people. But... in this case, while @yusufstiddies generally describes factual events that happened and factual posts that exist, I have to say that I can’t actually apologize for the things I’m called out for because I don’t think they’re homophobic. The things he criticizes me for are things that come from a lot of personal experience as a queer bisexual cis woman, as well as a lot of reflection, research, and study. I believe in them really strongly and stand by them.

I’m really sorry if this makes TOG fandom too hostile, because it is not my intention to make this place so unpleasant that anyone feels driven out. I understand if my stance means people no longer want to follow me/read my stuff/participate in projects I’m involved with (though I’d rather hand off the Research Hub to someone else than see it go down with me). I’m posting this so people can know where they stand before they decide whether to keep interacting with my blog, or “deplatform” me as @yusufstiddies recommends.

I would recommend, for anyone who doesn’t want to see my posts, using Tumblr’s new post content filtering feature. If you type a username (like star-anise or with-my-murder-flute) into it, Tumblr will hide all posts featuring that specific string of characters, and therefore any post or reblog of mine.

To address the accusations against me:

I am an anti-anti: Yes. I’ve reblogged posts of mine about this before. I care passionately about preventing child abuse, but I think there are better ways to prevent child abuse in fandom (like concrete harassment policies so predatory behaviour can be reported and stopped early, and education about digital consent and healthy relationships) than attacking people who write “bad ships,” not least because the first people it hurts are abuse survivors trying to work through their trauma, and because the research says you cannot actually tell who’s a sexual predator based on what they write about.  Fiction affects reality, but not on a 1:1 basis. My mainblog, @star-anise, has a really extensive archive of my writing on the subject.

I said cishet men aren’t more privileged than gay men: Kinda. What I actually did was question whether Every Single Cishet Man benefits from more privilege than Every Single Gay Man. If a man is cishet but gets beaten up because people perceive him as gay, he’s not exactly feeling the warm toasty glow of heterosexual privilege in that moment. Oppression is complicated and there are times when someone’s lack of privilege on one axis is way less important than someone else’s lack of privilege on another axis.

The post above also includes me reblogging someone else’s addition about how straight men can be included in the queer movement: I’m queer. @yusufstiddies has made it very clear that he isn’t comfortable with the word “queer” and doesn’t like it. Therefore I think it’s understandable that he might not understand that the queer community sees ourselves as a coalition of people dedicated to dismantling the structures of sex and gender that oppress us, not a demographic of people whose gender identities or sexual orientations can be neatly mapped. However, I would say that doesn’t make queer theory inherently homophobic.

There are also some related points @yusufstiddies didn’t level at me specifically, but I would like to address:

The constant focus on the unsafeness of cishet people:

I’m not cishet. I’m a bisexual woman who’s dated women. Sixth-light is a queer woman married to a woman. This is not an issue of non-LGBTQ+ people blundering their way into something they don’t experience the daily consequences of. This is an issue of people from WITHIN the LGBTQ+ community who sincerely disagree with @yusufstiddies about the pressures we experience and how best to deal with them. I think that even if @yusufstiddies were to filter his fiction input to only LGBT-written work about LGBT experiences, or even only trans-written work about trans people, he would still find a lot of things he finds upsetting or transphobic, because sexual and gender identities are really diverse and not everything will suit one person.

The contention that saying “’Queer is a slur’ is TERF propaganda” is transmisogyny because it dilutes the definition of “TERF”:

People who point out the phrase is TERF propaganda are not calling every person who says it a TERF, and we are not trying to argue that telling a queer person that queer is a slur is inherently equal to the kind of damage a TERF does when she attacks a trans woman out of transphobia. Queer people being able to use the word “queer” does not have the same importance as trans women being able to live, work, and survive in public. Rather, we are literally saying, “This is a thing TERFs say when they take a break from attacking trans women and try to recruit new members to their group, so it’s in our best interests to not give it too wide a currency.”

Some people have experienced the word “queer” used as a hateful word hurled against them and don’t want to hear it ever again. I get that. It happens. Where I grew up, “gay” was a synonym for “shitty” and it took me a lot of years out of high school before the word “gay” wouldn’t shoot my blood pressure through the roof.  I actually do understand that and think that’s valid (and again, support using post content filtering for that word).

One of the things I do at @star-anise is argue with young people who are headed into full-on transmisogynistic TERF territory, and work at reeling them back and deradicalizing them. I use a tag called “weedwhacking” so my followers can filter out the sometimes lengthy back-and-forths we get going.

Something I’ve learned, interacting with so many TERFs and proto-TERFs, is that one way they frequently get recruited into harassing trans people was through discourse around the word “queer”. For one, it encouraged them to want to distance themselves from any perception of LGBT people as “weird” or “not normal”, which led to seeing trans people as “weird” and “not normal” and therefore not good members of the “gay pride” community. For two, repeating “queer is a slur” predictably causes a lot of queer people to react in a defensive manner, so by teaching young or new people to say it, TERFs can set them up to feel alienated from the larger LGBTQ+ community and more open to TERF propaganda.

The next issue isn’t mentioned in the original callout post, but I think it’s key to this entire issue:

@yusufstiddies has made several posts about what cishet people should and shouldn’t write. For example, cishets shouldn’t write Nicky experiencing internalized homophobia.  Another is a detailed post of things cishets shouldn’t write about trans people, including which sexual positions only trans people are allowed to write. I would imagine that part of his frustration with fandom has been the lack of traction those posts have gotten. I know I very deliberately didn’t reblog them.

That isn’t because I don’t agree that the things he complains about are rarely handled well by cishet authors. I agree that there’s a lot of bad fic out there that contributes to negative stereotypes against LGBTQ+ people and is basically a microaggression to read.

I have two very deeply-seated reasons for my position:

LGBTQ+ identities are different from many other political identities because most people are not born identifiably LGBTQ+. It’s something we have to figure out about ourselves. And one really important way that we do that is using the safety of fiction to explore what an experience would be like, sometimes years before we ever admit that we fit the identity we’ve written about. So banning cishet authors from writing something is really likely to harm closeted and questioning LGBTQ+ people. It will lengthen the amount of time questioning people take before finding the identity that really fits them, and force closeted people to be even more closeted. 

There’s a lot of undeniably shitty stuff in fandom. However, I fundamentally believe that trying to target the people creating it and forcing them to stop doesn’t work very well, and has the serious byproduct of killing the creativity and enthusiasm of the rest of fandom and resulting in less of the actual thing you like being produced. I think that it is infinitely more productive to focus on improving the ratio of good stuff in fandom than trying to snuff out every bad thing.

Like I said: I understand if this means former followers, mutuals, or friends no longer want to interact with me. I’ll be saddened, but I’ve obviously chosen this path and can deal with the consequences. 

I wish this could have worked out differently.

[james-rowan]

Here’s my (very late, sorry 😓) contribution to the @dualrainbow Pride event. Thank you To_Dragons for helping me edit.

Ships: Montagne/Blitz, Lion/Doc, Valkyrie/Finka and Castle/Maverick

The Pride Festival

The Austin Texas Pride Festival was held on a hot, sunny afternoon, and it smelled of fair food, sunscreen and energy. It was colorful, and bright, mrainbows everywhere, adorning stalls, signs and, of course, people.

To the European operators who had been to Pride events before, it was not only loud, but bold. From the outfits, that ranged from simple rainbow wristbands to full on outrageous outfits (or just a jockstrap), to the signs and stalls and performance stages. Couples were embracing, kissing and making out openly and passionately, without shame or guilt, not only couples but the rare poly groups, finally able to carry on with open affections and taking full advantage. The atmosphere was infectious. It had already claimed Maverick and Castle, who walked very close to each other -despite the heat- hands in each other’s back pockets. They also were very unrestrained with the kissing.

And Montagne thought that he and Blitz could be overly affectionate. But then he was still waiting for his lover to meet them there. He had flown out on his own specifically for this.

Their group included the aforementioned Castle and Maverick, Valkyrie, Finka, himself, Lion and Doc.

They had traveled from Fort Polk, Louisiana, where they, that being the FBI SWAT, SEALs and GIGN, and one tagalong (at her vehement request) Finka, were doing training with the U.S. Army rangers stationed there. After two weeks of a field exercise in muggy swamplands, their Pride group had been excited to go somewhere dry, but unfortunately Houston did not live up to the Texas desert stereotypes; it was almost as humid as Fort Polk. But at least here there was civilization. And Montagne himself was excited to finally see Blitz.

“Schatz!”

Speaking of whom, he was charging at them, looking very much the part of a Pride attendee. He caught his lover in his arms, swinging him around once, despite the soreness from training, then dipped him into a deep kiss. that gained the awe and cheers of not only from some in their own group, but several onlooking strangers as well.

When they finally parted , Lion muttered, “They’re acting like they haven’t seen each other in a year.”

The couple ignored him as Blitz held Monty out in arms length to appraise his outfit. He tutted, “Not to live up to the stereotype, Schatz, but what are you wearing?”

Montagne looked down at himself. He was wearing a lightweight button down with rolled up sleeves, dark trousers and shined shoes, nothing offensive, if a bit formal compared to everyone else, but the reason was important.

Blitz himself was dressed the complete opposite, wearing a loose stringer tanktop that exposed his toned shoulders and even his pecs when he moved just right. Jean cutoff shorts, sneakers with colorful laces, large sunglasses, a backwards ball cap, wristbands: every article of clothing was either rainbow colored, or had an inclusive pride flag adorning it.

“Euh… what’s wrong with it?

“If it were any other day, nothing,” Blitz said. “You look sharp and sexy as ever. But this is Pride, American Pride, ja? Look around.”

Almost everyone was wearing Pride merchandise, had flags draped on their shoulders, or had face paint of various LGBTQ+ symbols, from obvious t more subtle. The bolder were the ones wearing much more and the even bolder much less.

Blitz grabbed his hand, “Come, we’re fixing this.”

“Aren’t we a little old for…”

“Psst, nein. This will be fun, ja? To dress up as we please, get swept up in the atmosphere.”

“We can already dress as we please.”

“I mean colorful, and silly, no fashion rules to hold us back. Come on!”

With that Blitz dragged him off, leaving the rest in their wake.

~

“Well,” Finka chuckled. “Hi to you too, Elias.”

“Those two are disgusting,” Lion snickered. “How long have they been together? A year?”

“Two,” Finka said. “With no signs of slowing down.”

“Their honeymoon phase is going to last forever at this rate,” Valkyrie said.

“That explains why Gilles is going to…” Lion stopped himself, eyes wide.

“What is Gilles going to do?” Valkyrie was now very interested.

“Olivier, you wanted to show me something?” Doc, the amazing man he was, quickly interjected.

Had it been a few months ago, Lion would have been confused, but now Doc had bailed him out enough times during conversations that he immediately went, “Ah right, this way.”

“We’ll go with you,” Valkyrie smirked.

“Non, non, it's private,” Lion said.

“The good Catholic boy he is, he cannot share,” he said, steering Lion away before he could reveal too much.

Out of earshot, Lion mumbled, “How can you be nice while mocking me at the same time?” Lion was a bit prickly at the Catholic comment. It has always been a point of mockery for people outside the church.

“I could ask you the same. You have quite the talent for it. Far more than I can hope to achieve.”

“Most of the time I don’t mean to.”

“I know.” Doc’s tone softened into a reassuring one, giving his side a squeeze. “Otherwise we wouldn’t have found common ground, mon coeur,” he said. “People also tend not to question when a Catholic needs to do private things, no? With Islam it works quite well.”

Lion took a deep breath, but understood. It was nothing malicious. “Thank you. I didn’t want to be the one to fuck that all up.”

It had taken years to come to a mutual understanding, let alone to find a way to deal with their mutual attraction to one another. It was a rocky, long road, but here they were. Lion hoped one day they would be exactly like Blitz and Montagne, or even just Castle and Maverick.

Lion brushed his forefinger against Doc’s hand, tentatively seeking to hold it. Their relationship was so new, so fragile, like a baby bird or sugar glass, too easy to hurt or shatter. A hundred things, even things gentle or nice, could ruin a relationship, if you looked into it. And considering their history, before they got together… where just one off hand remark would destroy a truce they had established between each other, setting them at each other's throats once again. Lion never wanted to go back to those times. He’d do anything to keep it from degrading back.

Doc immediately took hold of his hand, as if he had been waiting to do so all day, giving a loving squeeze.

Warmth flooded Lion, he felt a giant stupid grin spreading across his face. It was almost too much, as he felt pricks in his eyes, as he squeezed back. He glanced sideways at Doc, finding him gently smiling, mellow as always when he was content. He wanted nothing more than to sweep him up and kiss him fiercely, but maybe then it’d be too much. He’d settle for this for now.

After browsing a couple stalls, he remembered something. What did the relationship advice he found on that one website say? That he should always seek to compliment and let someone know how much their actions mean to him, so he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to find the right words.

“You know,” Lion said, barely able to be heard over the crowd. “I’m so glad you’re willing to hold my hand.”

“Willing? I want to,” Doc corrected, bringing it to his lips and kissing his knuckles.

Lion smile only grew wider, and he had to look away as red creeped from his ears to his cheeks now. “J’taime.”

“J’taime.”

The warm fuzzy feeling in his chest threatened to burst, helped along by with the anxiety, the pervasive fear that this was about to be ripped from him at any moment.

They grabbed something to eat and sat down on a bench. If American food was considered greasy, their fair food was simply lard on a plate, with maybe some sugar or ketchup for seasoning. They commented on this to each other, when something caught Lion’s eye. There were older women and a couple of men wearing t-shirts, that said “free mom hugs.” (the men’s shirts said ‘dad’) As implied, they hugged everyone who came up to them. Some hugs were light and quick, and some deep and heartfelt, lasting many minutes. Lion’s eyes followed one of them until he came upon a group of them, holding signs, the same message written on them.

“Is that what I think?”

“Hmm?” Doc looked up. “Ah, probably. Hold on.”

To Lion's horror, his fellow frenchman asked a nearby American who they were; the man explaining with a bright smile that they were a charity organization that helped LGBTQ+ youth, and they gave out hugs - of course -, for any who had been rejected by their families for their sexuality.

Small talk ensued, in which Lion was only half-participating in as he ate, and when the man finally left, Doc nudged his side.

“You’ve been glancing at them this whole time. Go on, go talk to them.”

“I don’t need a hug.”

Doc tsked, “That’s a lie.”

“Huh?”

“If anyone needs a hug from a father figure, it is you, no?”

“I…” Lion paused then shook his head. “No, I’m over it, I put it behind me. It happened over a decade ago, after all.”

Doc raised an eyebrow, one of his infuriatingly knowing smiles tugging at his lips.

“They are for this who were disowned for being homosexual, Gustave. I was not...”

“And your father would have accepted you being with another man? Or is it only teens getting their girlfriends pregnant that he takes moral issue with?”

Lion didn’t have an answer for him. Well he did, just not a verbal one. There were so many reasons his father wanted nothing to do with him.

“I’m over it,” he repeated, but this time with less conviction.

“Then it would be of no consequence,” Doc said, squeezing his hand. “Go on.”

It was an awkward walk to approach them. He had to remind himself he was a soldier, he had faced death multiple times, fought against some of the most dangerous people in the world and this- This was just a civilian man at a pride event. Much older than him, sure, with a kind face and beard. But he realized as his step grew increasing hesitant that it wasn’t the human he was afraid of, but his soul, and what it could do to his own with just a few brash words.

What was he even going to say? “Hey I saw your sign, my dad hates me, can I get a hug?” That was ridiculous. Maybe lean into the role this man was offering to play, “Sorry dad, I was a fuck up, I can't change?" Or… "sorry you were not capable of loving me the way I am?" Both sounded completely rude to say to a stranger.

But as he approached, the older man met his eye, and there was no need for questions, nor words. The dad only smiled at him and opened his arms.

Lion found himself in the other man’s embrace before he even realized, hugging him as if his life depended on it. The older man matched his energy, a hand on the back of his head as if Lion really was his own child. Time seemed to stretch on and on; Lion had been anticipating a quick hug, just a little taste of what he got so envious of every time he saw someone have a loving moment with their parent, but no, his body refused to let go and so did this stranger. This stranger who held onto him with a fatherly patience Lion once thought only existed in fantasy.

The lump growing in his throat ached. He tried swallowing it down, but it only made it worse.

He shouldn’t have done this. He thought he was over it, yet it hurt, it hurt so fucking much…!

He wanted to run, he wanted to stay, he wanted…

“It’s alright to cry,” the man whispered. “I got you.”

“My real father disowned me.” Lion wasn’t proud of how strangled his voice sounded, or how he let some tears escape.

“I’m so sorry, son,” the man replied, rubbing his back gently. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“I did.”

“No, you didn’t. Nobody does.”

“I never could give him a reason to love me.”

“Children don’t need to give a reason. They’re supposed to be loved by their parents, no matter what mistakes they made, real or imagined. You deserve to be loved.”

Lion was biting the inside of his cheek, trying to will away the need to sob. This was a happy moment, a validating moment, with kind words, and warmth, why did it hurt so much then? His fingers clutched at the man’s shirt, as he gently rocked them. It didn’t feel infantilizing, it felt relieving, needed, like a hole finally being filled.

“You can cry, you know,” the man whispered again. “Emotions are made to be expressed. You don’t have to be strong, not here, not with me. I know you’re hurting, Don’t worry, I’m here.”

A choked sob escaped, and Lion pressed his face into the man's shoulder. “There you go, let it out, I’m proud of you.”

There was no coming back from that. He broke down, and it was ugly.

Lion sobbed into his arms, all rsesemblance of control disappearing, but the father held him through it all. It lasted way longer than Lion thought possible, but they eventually subsided, and he was still being held as he calmed down. When he felt strong enough to break the embrace, he was met with a gentle, fatherly smile.

“Do you feel better?”

“Oui.. yes, thank you,” he wiped his face with his own shirt. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” the manhe said. “I’m just doing what fathers were meant to do.”

“Merci.”

They talked for a little while after. About what happened with his father, his family, himself. The cynical side of him expected them to reveal their ulterior motive, asking him for charity donations, to attend a church service, or even a cult, but they didn’t offer him any flyers or business cards, just warm words... water and tissues. At least he wasn’t the first grown man to cry like this in their arms. They were genuinely good people.

Doc had been waiting patiently for him on the bench, and stood up to embrace him and kiss his cheek upon his return. “How do you feel?”

“Drained,” he said. Then he added, “Relieved. I guess you were…” he caught himself. “No, you were completely right.”

“I’m glad you went then, mon coeur.”

Lion needed a smoke. Before got to know him, Lion would have assumed the doctor was too high and mighty for a nicotine fix, but then found out he was a man in a high stress job like the rest of them, and didn’t judge. Except on the mandatory substance abuse powerpoints they all had to sit through every few months.

He lit up, drawing the smoke in and letting it mellow him out. Every so often he would think back and a few more tears would leak out.

He wiped his eyes with his thumb. “You know why I was so happy that you took my hand?”

“Non,” Doc said, rubbing his back. “But please tell me.”

“I was at the store with my mother and father,” he said. “I was just following along, and I see my mother offer her hand to hold, you know, this gesture…”

He made it. Doc patiently nodded.

“Well I was nearest to her, I think. I was so happy, I remember feeling loved, all warm, because my mama wanted to hold my hand.”

He paused, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Go on, I’m listening.”

Lion took a deep breath. His voice shuddered, “She let go, non.. she threw my hand away from her, in utter disgust. As if I were disgusting. She snapped, ‘I don’t want your hand.’”

Lion ducked his head. “It was a small thing, yes, but it hurt, it hurt so much. Turned out she wanted my father’s hand, not her son’s, not mine.”

It was a few beats later before Doc said, “How old were you?”

“Four, maybe five,” Lion said. “I hate that feeling, those moments where you finally feel happy and loved, and the next second someone shatters it completely. Despair is a good word for it, I think.”

“How often did these types of things happen?”

“Plenty, I was a disgusting child, after all.”

“No,” Doc said. “She was just… cruel.”

Lion huffed, not a wry laugh, just disbelieving. “You’re not going to tell me that she tried her best?”

“Did she?”

“I… I don’t know…”

“Then I think not,” Doc said softly, cupping Lion’s cheek. He leaned into the warmth.

"I still get this horrible… fear when I want to take someone’s hand, or show any affection. So I usually don’t.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you, mon cher. And if I ever make you feel the way your mother did, I want you to tell me.”

Lion nodded, looking down, not entirely sure if he would. Doc tilted his head back up. “Hey, I mean it.”

Lion took his hand and almost went for a kiss, but the deep moment was interrupted by Blitz and Monty approaching. Lion quickly turned away so neither of the two could see his red puffy eyes, but he did see Monty was wearing a stringer tanktop, tie dyed rainbow, and adorned with rainbows in body paint and a look of subdued embarrassment any time Elias had his back turned. Blitz was going a bit overboard on this look.

“Have you seen Meghan?” Blitz said, “unless you have a bag?”

Doc pointed them into the right direction, as Lion quickly drank his water.

“Olivier, are you okay?”

“He just needs some alone time with me,” Doc saved him. Again.

The pair offered their sympathies to Lion (much to his annoyance) and wandered off to find the two women.

“Don’t you ever dress me up that garishly,” Lion snickered.

“Please, mon coeur, I have taste,” Doc said, before grabbing his knee and squeezing, voice now whispering in his ear. “Besides, I prefer you out of your clothes.”

He nipped his earlobe before Lion could exasperate out his name, earning a yelp instead.

Any semblance of protocol melted into genuine, unmasked joy just to be in each other’s company, in a welcoming space where they could be open about themselves Gustave himself was intent on kissing his lover better.

~

Finka and Valkyrie had been watching a stage performance when Blitz appeared at Valkyrie’s side, grinning, as usual, and... now covered in glitter?

“Meghan, can we borrow your purse?”

“Huh?”

“I don’t want to have to carry around Gilles’s shirt all day.”

Valkyrie turned fully to see Montagne, who had trailed in after him, no longer wearing his tasteful, understated ensemble, but had been attacked by rainbows and what looked to be the same shimmer bomb that Blitz must have been caught in.

“No, you’re going to get glitter in it,” Valkyrie frowned.

“Please? I’ll clean it out for you myself.”

“Glitter?” Finka said, turning around. “We have to ride back with your boyfriend, and you wore glitt-”

Finka must have caught sight of Montagne’s giant pecs escaping the too small, flimsy shirt, because she turned bright red and turned back to stare very intently at the performer.

All Valkyrie herself could think was ’damn Montagne is strong and it shows’, but that was it, of course. Her girlfriend however was bi, with a particular weakness for large people with muscles.

“Och, I almost forgot,” Blitz said cheekily. “You have any sunscreen? Gilles wasn’t prepared for this outfit.”

“I don’t think any of us were prepared,” Finka snipped, still keeping Montagne out of her line of sight. She pulled out a sunblock bottle from her cargo pocket and tossed it over.

“You alright there, Lera?” Blitz asked as he caught it.

“I’m fine, it's just hot,” she replied, still avoiding eye contact, “The weather, I mean.”

Blitz grinned, “He is hot, isn’t he?”

“Mon cher…” Montagne groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just…”

Meghan clapped her hands, “Okay, go away, go be gay somewhere else. We have enough that of our own over here.”

Blitz ignored her, looking at Finka with a grin, “What do you think of us getting temporary hair color? I was thinking of dyeing our hair rainbow.”

“Well, you’ve gone this far,” Finka said, pointedly staring at Blitz’s eyes. “Might as well go full golubok.”

“Hah, ja, I like the way you think, I…”

“Here,” Meghan said, grabbing Gilles’s shirt from Blitz’s hands and stuffing it into her purse. “Go dye your hair now. Go on.”

“Alright, all right.” Blitz grinned, holding up his hands and going. Montagne sighed deeply, a twitch working its way through his cheek before following. Odd, but not her problem. She had someone much more important to worry about.

“You’re into muscles, huh?”

“You know I am,” Finka said sheepishly. “Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting that.”

Valkyrie laughed, “It’s fine, he got great boobs.” That caused Finka to snort. “You know, for a man.”

Finka laughed longer than she expected, but it was always nice when her girlfriend had one of her genuine laughs.

“It's always nice to see real muscles,” Finka said. “Real ones, from being big and strong, and healthy.”

“Oh, you mean some like mine?” She flexed, tattooed arms positively sexy as the bulged.

Finka’s eyes got a hungry glunt to them, she put her hands on Valkyrie’s arms, feeling the solidness beneath her fingers, “Yes, just like that.”

Finka kissed her girlfriend long and deep, and Valkyrie relished being able to do so in the open, without the anxiety of having some bigot laying eyes on them and causing a scene. It was annoying enough to deal with the old people (and the occasional man similarly aged man) she had never met before tsk at her for daring to have tattoos and being too buff, saying she was too pretty to mark herself up like that and ask how she was ever going to find a man looking like that. She had already broke the glass ceiling for women in something as prestigious and hardcore as the Navy fucking SEALs, but there were still so many in American society that were convinced that women existed to look pleasant to men, regardless of if said women even wanted a pet man or not.

The kiss was broken when Finka’s wristwatch timer went off, and her girlfriend quickly drank from her water bottle. It was such a practiced motion, Valkyrie wasn’t entirely convinced Lera was aware she was doing it, and it made her heart ache. When she was finished, she wrapped her arm around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Later they were browsing stalls, and Finka gravitated towards one that was selling pride flags and shirts, not only the standard colors for each identity group, but also the ones that represented multiple identities within the same flag. Finka fingered a nonbinary one with a heart in the bisexual colors on its center. Interesting choice.

“I’d love to see you wear one of these, babe.”

Finka smiled, but shook her head, “I don’t know…”

“Come on, I’m not trying to pull a Blitz on you, I’ll wear one with you.”

“And what am I going to do with it afterwards?”

“Keep it? We’re not in Russia, our base is in Greece, basically its own sovereign territory.”

“When you went through SEALs, there were dissenters that tried to prove your were lesbian so they could get you removed from the program, didn’t they?”

Valkyrie shrugged, “Yeah, but they failed.”

“The last thing that the Russian government wants is one of it most elite spetsnaz operatives in an international effort to be homosexual,” Finka explained. “Its not illegal, yet, but my existence could be considered ‘propaganda.’ I might not just be removed from Rainbow, or Spetsnaz, or the Russian military, I could be jailed.

“Ah.”

“You know what Russian prison is like? I might be able to survive the system if I wasn’t sick, but I am diseased. They’d deny me my medication, not let me stay hydrated or fed or exercised and I’ll...”

“Hey, hey,” Meghan said, quickly drawing Lera into a hug. “I’m sorry, it was just a silly idea.”

“I’m…” she took a deep breath then nodded. “Thank you.”

Meghan kissed her forehead, holding her hands. Lera usually had to be stressed, well, more stressed than usual, to go on such a downward spiral so quickly. Being at such a Pride event, probably, if anyone found out. Finka didn’t believe her own Rainbow Spetsnaz brothers to out her, they were too close, but it was still risky.

“The Soviet Union used to accept openly gay people, did you know that?”

Valkyrie shook her head.

“Not a lot of people do, even in Russia. It was the early years, of course, but they gave gays rights they never had before. But then, of course, the Soviets needed more bodies. Bodies for war, and bodies for work, and of course, they believed gays were the reason that their population wasn’t pumping out babies at a fast enough rate.”

“Oh.”

“It all comes down to child production, doesn’t it? You know this.”

“Unfortunately I do,” Valkyrie said. “Not even just governments but families too. When my grandma found out I was lesbian, she sobbed, crying about how she won’t have any grandbabies from my father’s line. Then she blamed my father for raising me too military, while blaming my mother for letting me compete in high level sports.” She adopted a shrill, tottering grandma voice, ‘Sports always turns girls into dykes. I wanted greatgrandbabies from every child! But you made her want to turn into a boy!”

“Blin.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“My own parents alway knew I would like girls,” she said. “Enough to be surprised and confused when I brought home boyfriends that I was genuinely happy with. They cited my, uh, how you call it, boyishness? Well, I never felt comfortable in the woman’s role and they, knowing what my siblings and I had…, they didn’t really feel a need to pressure us to do anything but stay as healthy and active as possible.”

Meghan slowly began to realize this was turning into much more than a simple sharing of stories, and squeezed her hands in support.

“I never liked being…. I don’t know how to put this. I didn’t like the gendered language used for me. And I never felt when people were talking about women, they were talking about to me as well. Just as I thought the rules and expectations boys are taught growing up applied to me as well. You know, don’t cry, be tough, treat women with respect, fight those who try to push you around. Then I learned of this new concept a couple years ago, someone could be neither. I laughed at it at first but...”

“Lera…” Valkyrie said softly, with a loving smile. “Do you want me to use they/them for you?”

Her… their eyes lit up. “Would you? I mean, I’m not sure just yet, but I would like to try them out. “Non pun intended?”

“Hmm? Oh yes,” they were positively beaming. They were so beautiful.

“Just to see. I mean, I still have to use she and her at work but, just in private.”

“Of course, babe.”

Valkyrie cupped their face and kissed them deeply.

She ended up buying Finka something, a silver bracelet in the colored stones in the nonbinary colors as the setting. Something simple and discreet yet powerful where it mattered.

~~

Montagne had texted the couples to be on their way back to the group when Blitz finally realized he wasn’t just looking like a rainbow, but rather a discontented victim of a rainbow being sick.

“What’s wrong, Schatz?”

The giant man sighed, folding his arms over his chest.

“So… there is something wrong…?”

“If it were any other day, I wouldn’t have minded, but today…”

“Where else could you do this…?”

“It is not the location, it is the look!” he gestured down at himself. “The timing of it!”

“I don’t understand… ok, ja, I can see why I might have gotten a little carried away.”

Montagne raised a glitter encrusted eyebrow.

“Ok, completely carried away.”

“Mmm.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It is not the fun you were having that I have a problem with, I am used to your antics.”

Blitz went pink, and bashful. Like a puppy being scolded.

“And you know I love your antics, ge added quickly. But why of all days,” Gilles trailed off, pinching the bridge of his nose, and very nearly getting glitter in his eyes.

“Because… its Pride…”

“Yes, you’ve been saying this the whole time.”

“We can go wash it all off, I’m sorry,” Elias said, crestfallen as he moved past him towards the bathrooms.

Montagne caught him around the chest with his arm just as the rest of the group returned, “Non, it's fine… its fine. Perfection is not needed.”

He saw Doc and Loon quickly fumble for their phones, thankfully behind Blitz’s back. Once they nodded, he guided Blitz back to in front of him. “These past few years I’ve known you, you’ve done nothing but make me happy. Your antics, your jokes, your dedication, your downright sweetness, even the way you tap your helmet during exercises. Even before we started seeing each other, your smile would light up my heart and I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Gilles…”

Gilles sank to one knee, pulling out a shining wedding ring from his pocket.

“Will you marry me?”

Elias had clapped his hands over his mouth, unable to process this. Their group, except for the GIGN of course, were surprised and estatic. Valkyrie even exclaimed “So that’s what you French bastards were hiding.”

Blitz still hadn’t answered, his eyes shining.

“Elias?”

“Ja! Natürlich sage ich ja, du großer Dummkopf!”

“I assume that's a…”

Blitz very nearly bowled him over to give him his acceptance kiss. He lifted him up as he stood, Elias straddling his hips and swung them around, a dazzling display as the glitter caught the sunshine.

“I’m sorry I got irritated, I just wanted this to go a certain way,” he breathed when their lips parted.

“Schatz, you could have proposed to me covered in mud and sweat.”

“I know,” he said. “But I still wanted to make an effort. I wanted to do it right.”

“You did,” he said. “Look at you, covered in rainbows, just to make me happy, ja?

“Mmm,” he said as Elias lowered himself back to the ground.

Blitz understood now. Gilles was a traditional romantic after all, wanting the candlelit dinners and picnics at the parks on Sundays. He wanted that to extend to his proposal but Blitz was too excited to have silly fun to notice.

“Hey,” he said. Despite the heat they couldn’t stop embracing. “I love you, you know that?”

“I love you too.”

“If you want,” he whispered. “We can still have your perfect proposal night.”

“Two proposals?”

“Ja, why not? I’ll still be excited.”

Gilles gave it a thought. “I’ll have to make things more romantic between us,” he murmured. “Just to throw you off so you don’t know when its coming.”

“Oooh,” Blitz said, draping his arms over Gilles’s shoulders. “I like the sound of that.”

They dazzled them with another sweeping, showstopping dipped kiss, because of course they did.

“I agree with Lion,” Finka laughed with a grin. “You two are disgusting.”

Blitz laughed into Gilles’s mouth, and flipped her off without looking away.

“Great, now those two set the standard for romantic proposals,” Maverick said.

“Does that mean we’re going to be competing now?” Castle said, perking up.

“I’ll win,” Valkyrie declared. “The rest of you might as well quit now..”

“Pfft, nah, man, if anyone’s winning that it's me.”

“You know, we French have romance in our blood,” Lion said. “I wouldn’t even have to try and I’d win.”

While they dissolved into bickering, the silent ones of their pairs all shared a look, realizing at once what their partners had implied.

Blitz and Monty still had yet to look up from their glitter makeout, oblivious to what they had just started.

[steves-on-a-plane]

Life Hack

Written for: @star-spangled-bingo​ 2021!  (& All Caps Flash Bingo!)   Words: 1970 SSB Square Filled: Alternate Universe AU  All Caps Flash Square Filled: Science Experiment   Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: None, E for everyone!   Summary: Tony & Steve have created a Youtube channel both as a way for the Team to stay busy & for them to communicate with the outside world. Participation is highly encouraged and when Reader finds out Bucky hasn’t contributed to a single video yet, they enlists his help in testing out some life hacks. 

“What are we doing again?” Bucky questioned. He was standing next to you in the makeshift recording Studio Tony had built in an unused office.

“Making a video for the Youtube channel.” You commented. You inventoried the items on the table in front of you and made sure you had everything you needed.

“And why are we doing that?” Bucky grumbled.

“Because Tony and Steve want everyone to contribute to the channel.” It would surprise no one that the idea to start an Avengers Youtube channel had been Tony Stark’s idea. Actually, the team had always had one, as far back as the early shield days. It was more for publicity. Things like showcasing highlights from non-classified missions, charity events and press conferences were the types of clips that were typically uploaded. There were even occasional interviews from new members as they joined the team.

After the virus had struck, Steve and Tony had been looking for more ways to connect with the public. Tony wanted to have a way to talk with civilians about the real science of everything. While Steve’s motivations were a little more home grown. He wanted to give people on the outside a chance to see what life was like for the Avengers. He wanted people to know that the team was just as suspectable to the virus as the public and that the public could have as much of an impact on fighting this thing as the Avengers did.

“Peter may have let it slip that you haven’t contributed one video to the channel since we started it months ago.” You explained to Bucky. “I know cameras aren’t exactly you’re thing so I figured you could help me out with my segment today. Plus, you’re my favorite.” You said before tapping him on the nose with your index finger. “Ready?”

“Do I have a choice?” He complained beside you. You nodded to Peter who was standing behind the camera and began the video’s intro.

“Hey everyone! It’s [Y/N] here with another segment of the Avengers Quarantine Fifteen! That’s where we give you a fifteen-minute glimpse into what it’s like here at the Avenger’s Compound in Washington, DC.! Today I have a special guest with me, in his Youtube debut, Sergeant Bucky Barnes!” You paused to indicate Bucky who was standing next to you.

“Hey.” He nodded to the camera and offered it an awkward half wave.

“Okay, everyone,” You said looking into the camera. “I know we’re all bored out of our minds. We’ve been quarantining or sheltering in place for what feels like forever! I have to admit I’ve become addicted to watch those weird life hack videos; Buck you know the ones I’m talking about?” You asked him.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He shrugged. He looked past the camera at Peter who tried to wave his attention away.

“Don’t worry you will very soon. For those of you at home who, like Bucky, have no idea what I’m talking about, a life hack is something that’s supposed to make things easier.” You explained.

“Like waterproofing your shoes with beeswax?” Bucky asked excitedly. “That really works!” He insisted.

“Yes, like that.” You nodded. “So today we’re going to be testing out if these internet hacks actually work in a little game I like to call Helpful or Hustle. Okay, here we go.” You pressed play on a video that you’d already queued up on your iPad.

“Is Parker just going to film us watching a video for fifteen minutes?” Bucky asked you with uncertainty. You couldn’t help but laugh.  

“No.” You told him. “We’re gonna watch the hack first, then we’re going to try and recreate it.”

“But they can’t see it.” He commented pointing to the camera.

“They’ll see if after. In editing.” You assured.

“I’ll take care of everything Sergeant Barnes!” Peter called from behind the camera.

“There’s no way that works!” Bucky commented. Together the two of you watch the first hack where a woman deflated a balloon around a phone to act like a protective case. “They think because it’s made of rubber it’s going to protect…Do we have balloons?” He looked down at the table. I want to try this!”

You handed Bucky a balloon and an older cellphone that no one was using anymore. He began to inflate it immediately. At first it took Bucky a few tries to deflate the balloon like the woman in the video did. His initial attempts left him with a completely flat balloon, but after realizing he had to release the air more slowly, He had a rubber seal around the device. Bucky held the phone in his vibranium hand before letting it drop several feet the floor. You both heard the distinct sound of touch screen glass shattering.

“Well, Bucky, Helpful or Hustle?” You questioned as he bent down to pick the phone up.

“I think you already know the answer, [Y/N].” He said, holding the shattered screen for Peter to capture on camera. “I like this game. What’s next?”

“Back to the video.” You said, pointing to the iPad. You both watched the next “hack” Which involved filling a balloon with hot glue, tying it off and then using it as a sink stopper.

“I mean I guess that works.” He commented, scratching the back of his head. “But you know what else works?” He looked into the camera. “Fixing your sink so it has a stopper. If you can’t fix it yourself, hire a plumber. That’s a Hustle, next!” He pressed play again.

“I think you’re going to like this one.” You told him. You watch a video of someone blowing up a balloon using a water bottle, a funnel, vinegar and baking soda.

“Tell me we have the stuff to do this one.” He asked excitedly. “I very much want to know if this works.”

You and Bucky each picked up a balloon. You poured a cup of baking soda into each of the balloons using the funnel. You then filled the water bottle about halfway with vinegar. You had to guess with the measurements as the hack hadn’t provided them.

“Parker, you’re a science kid, is this safe?” Bucky asked Peter as you portioned out the vinegar.

“It’s what most schools use to make volcanos. Should be fine.” Peter nodded.

You and Bucky stretch the end of your balloons over the mouth of your water bottles. You nodded, and on your signal you both held up the balloon so that the baking soda dumped from the balloon into the vinegar. Almost immediately the balloons began to expand.

“[Y/N] look! It’s actually working!” Bucky exclaimed with disbelief.

“Well, I think this is as good a place as any to leave things. I’m afraid to see what happens when we try to remove these balloons. I’m [Y/N]…” You left a pause for Bucky.

“And I’m Bucky!” He said, thins time giving the camera an animated wave.

“This has been the Avengers’ Quarantine Fifteen!” You called, peering over your expanding balloon.

“Cut!” Peter said to let you both know he’d finished recording.

“That was great you guys!” Peter said enthusiastically. “Uh, [Y/N], you might want to take those things outside.”

“Good idea, Parker. I’ll take care of it.” Bucky offered. “Thanks for making me do this. I actually had a lot of fun. We should do it again sometime.” He collected both water bottles and carefully escorted them from the room.

“I have a few more things to film and then I can start editing. I’ll let you both know when it’s live.” Peter explained. You thanked him and started cleaning the room so it would be ready for the next person who needed it.

A little time passed, and you’d help some of the other team members film their own segments. You’d been staying busy doing other things too like raising a quarantine kitten. Yes, even the Avengers were not immune to the desire for new pets after being trapped inside. In hindsight trying to raise a tiny mammal in a giant military compound probably wasn’t a good idea, but you and Mittens were adjusting to each other. You’d almost forgotten about the segment you’d filmed with Bucky until Peter texted you the link one day.

You pressed play and started watching the video. You were surprised to see that Peter had been recording the banter between you and Bucky before you’d officially started filming. He kept every second of it in too, even the part where you booped Bucky on the nose and told him he was your favorite. You felt your cheeks get hot knowing the others were going to razz you about that later.

“Hey [Y/N]!” You heard someone calling your name down the hall. You poked your head out of your dorm room door. Bucky was walking towards you.

“Did you see Parker posted our video?” He pointed to his phone.

“Yeah, I was just watching it. What did you think?” You asked.

“I haven’t watched it yet. I’ve been reading the comments.” He told you. You scrolled through the commented on the video. Your eyes growing wide. It seemed the videos viewers liked seeing Bucky on the channel. They also seemed to really like you and Bucky together.

“I came to ask you, what does ‘Ship It’ mean?” He said.

“Where did you…” You assumed he’d read it in the comments and sure enough as you continued to read on there were plenty of posts with things like ‘Why and I shipping [Y/N] and Bucky so hard?’ and ‘I’m calling it, Bucky x [Y/N], I’ll go down with this ship and in this TED Talk…’

“Well, Bucky Ah…” You fumbled with your words trying to think of exactly how to explain the situation. “Shipping is an internet term for…”

“If you don’t want to tell me, I can just ask Parker or his friend…Ed?” He started to turn.

“No!” You caught him by the elbow. “Trust me, you do not want to ask anyone else about this one. Shipping is a term people use as a way to say they want two people to be a couple. Sometimes they’re already a couple or they may not be together any more and people aren’t ready to let that go. It’s usually about fictional characters but sometimes celebrities too.”

“Oh…Oh!” Bucky stared down at this phone with sudden realization. “So, when they’re saying that they Ship you and I, they’re implying…”

“That they want us to be a couple, yeah.” You nodded uncomfortably. You wished you could melt into the floor or fly away on a jet pack because the truth was, you’d always had a bit of a crush on Bucky. You never thought he’d be into you. You knew that the opinion of hundreds of people online wasn’t going to change anything, but at least someone else had seen a spark, as imaginary as it may be. “It’s a pretty common thing.” You added, trying to fill the awkward air. “Like I might say I ship Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson together because they seem really happy together. I don’t really know them, so it’s not really my place to say…”

“But I know us. So, would it be completely inappropriate for me to say that I also Ship us?” He questioned, looking up from his phone.

“Does being in a video on Youtube with the man you that gets tons of people commenting what a cute couple you’d make, so you’re both finally brave enough to admit that you have feelings for each other, count as a Life Hack?” You asked back.

“As usual, I have no idea what all of that meant, but I’m going to kiss you now okay?” He asked. You nodded ‘Yes’ in response.

[rainbow-paints-for-after-colony]

Incoming transmission // FAQ

So what is this?

The name for Gundam Wing Pride 2k21′s event is 30 Days of Pride! Because having names for things makes it easier, and then it’s easier to distinguish things from previous years.

How does this work?

It’s a 30 day writing and art challenge, essentially, with a prompt per day. You take that day’s prompt, write or draw a thing, and then post it on that day using the “Gundam Wing Pride 2k21″ tag. There will also be a collection on AO3 to shove it into.

I added a twist in that there are three (3) prompt sets to choose from! You can do just one set, or you can do two or all three; you can either combine them all into one piece, or you can do that day’s prompts as separate pieces if you’re an overachiever. You can also mix and match prompt lists!

Oh cool! Where can I sign up?

There isn’t a formal sign up this year. If you wanna discuss what you’re doing for the event, you can head on to the Wing Queero Discord server. We’ll hook you up from there.

Why is there no formal sign up?

Because we wanted something a bit more low pressure this year. Some of the people involved in this event are also hard at work on making contributions to Rhythm Generation (@gundamzine), so an event where one can drop in and out as they’re inspired is nice to have!

But it’d be nice if you dropped us a line letting us know you’re participating!

When are prompts being released?/When do we create things?/When do we post?

Prompts are released 30 April to this tumblr and to the prompts channel on the Wing Queero server (linked above).

Content creation happens from 1 May to 30 May if you want a head start. If you want to treat this like a standard 30 Days of _____ challenge, then you can create your content and post it the day the prompt falls on.

Posting corresponds to the day of the prompt that you want to post. So if you’re wanting to post art for Day 6′s prompt, you would post it 6 June.

What all can I bring to the table?

Shipping and non-shipping content will both be accepted

SFW and NSFW material will both be accepted (with appropriate tags)

All content produced must be new, original work created for the event itself

All content will be embargoed for wider distro until June, where it will be posted on that prompt’s specific day.

All written work should be at least 300 words, with no maximum word count.

Each prompt should be one complete piece of writing.

Art needs to be a final product, not a sketch.

The content needs to fit the theme, which is LGBTQ+, because this is a Pride event. Let your queer flag fly! And it has to be Gundam Wing related, because this is a Gundam Wing fandom event. And then of course it goes without saying that you also need to include whatever prompt you’re doing in there too.

Is there an age restriction?

Yes, because we are accepting (and will likely receive) NSFW works. You must be at least 18 years of age or older. Don’t worry, we’re not asking for age verification. By participating in this event, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age.

I won’t be able to participate, but also don’t want to miss out!

You can follow this Tumblr, or our Twitter (@gundamwingpride)! We’ll be posting the links to things here and also there, so you won’t be missing out!

So who’s in charge here?

That would be @from-zero-to-my-own-heero (aka Karu) and @offspringchick29 (aka Serena)! We’re in charge of this account as well as the Twitter one. We also run the Wing Queero server! Any questions, comments, or concerns can be directed to us via Discord DM or any of the social media we’ve listed. We’re doing this event to continue the legacy that Jessie (@gundayum) handed down to us, and we’re proud to continue what we hope will be an annual tradition of ours.

[the-river-person]

Renaissance

“YOU’RE ACTING VERY ODDLY, SANS.” Noted Papyrus one morning when he bumped into his brother on his way to the stairs. Sans wasn’t really ready for the day, his pajamas rumpled and his eyes sleepy, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary for him. What was strange was the fact that he was carrying a basket full of dirty laundry and was on his way to put them in the wash. If it had been the first and only time, Papyrus might have hugged him with joy and thanked the Angel for miracles. But that had happened over a week ago and Sans had since done this and other chores without prompting several more times. Blinking up at him with an expression that very clearly said that he wasn’t really all awake, Sans tried to grin. “What do you mean? I’m just trying to get some clean clothes, is that so weird?” “YES,” said Papyrus. “ YOU LEFT A SOCK ON THE LIVING ROOM FLOOR FOR OVER A MONTH, PROBABLY LONGER WITH THE RESETS IF WE’RE BEING HONEST.“ That encouraged a snicker from Sans. “It’s still there actually.” “I’M WELL AWARE. BUT DON’T TRY TO CHANGE THE SUBJECT! YOU’VE BEEN ALARMINGLY ACTIVE FOR YOU AND I INTEND TO FIND OUT WHY.” Sans gave him a thumbs up and a wink and Papyrus glared at him before stalking down the stairs, his head tilted up to give an air of disdain towards his brother, who laughed. Breakfast was an interesting affair. The Egg and Cheese Breakfast Muffins that Papyrus had made were pretty enough to look at, though entirely inedible. He’d found the recipe in a book at the dump and had been attempting to recreate the dish. The only real reason this batch hadn’t gone quite right was because they’d gone rock solid at some point during the baking. Still, he’d also made some bacon, so they’d eaten that. There was much less of a restriction on food nowadays. Normally food was collected and sold through the vendors with a stock being held in reserve in case the fields stopped producing or the garbage stopped flowing. But since the world would reset every few weeks the reserves weren’t kept as big and more foods were allowed through. Some monsters, like Papyrus, were taking advantage of the excess to experiment more with various dishes. Sans had to admit that his brother’s cooking skills were improving by leaps and bounds, and only rarely ended with something they couldn’t actually eat.

Everyone’s lives had been severely rattled by the recent events. Sans hadn’t realized how much would have to change in their new circumstances. With no need to spend time and effort farming or collecting food and resources to maintain their lives, many Monsters had turned to entertainment. At first Mettaton’s tv show boomed with success as the only real official source of digital entertainment the Underground had to offer. But it was only two Resets into their new lives that the first alternatives had begun popping up all over. Amateur musicians began uploading videos of songs to the Undernet, either of their own composition or covers of existing songs like the “Angel’s Prayer” that children were fond of singing. Not all of them were spectacular, but they got the enthusiasm, praise, and encouragement of everyone in the Underground anyway. Not a single video went unseen, and several more were created because some Monsters were inspired by what they’d seen and heard. The Spiders who lived in Hotland put on a televised performance of Web Swinging crossed with Ballet where they performed “Coppélia” to the absolute delight of all their viewers. Even the Queen, seemingly returned from death overnight and the cause of much initial confusion and fright in the populace, made a concerted effort to aid Monsters in reforming their lives in some constructive way despite the lack of work. She founded a school where all those who wished to learn were invited, regardless of their age, and various Monsters were invited to come lecture or teach all kinds of subjects to whoever wanted to learn them. Since no school building could be made that would stay past the Resets, they made do with hundreds of tents upon the crystal starlit fields of the Grand Cavern. Both Papyrus and Sans had signed up for some of these. Toriel’s baking classes were fun and there were often treats to be sampled afterward, including her famous Snail Pie. Though Papyrus would groan in feigned agony as Sans and Toriel shot pun after pun back and forth at one another while working, he didn’t really seem to mind all that much and occasionally would contribute a pun of his own, though Sans could never quite tell if it was intentional or not. Old Seam it seemed had decided to participate in the fun as well. Though he’d been a soldier in the wars and now ran a little shop in New Home, he seemed thrilled to totter his way all the way down to the School in order to teach magic tricks. Young Monsters sat wide eyed with astonishment as the old Cat-Monster made lights appear and vanish, caused rubber balls to pop endlessly from his mouth only to turn into wisps of smoke when he dropped them one by one into a glass of water, or make his wheezy laughing voice come from various objects such as Queen Toriel’s teapot or a desk or someone’s stack of books. Everybody loved the tricks and spent a great deal of time trying to learn how to do them, with limited success. Toriel only stepped in once in order to stop Monster Kid from doing his own version of one of Seam’s best tricks, which involved sawing a volunteer in half and having their lower half walk around a stage before somehow putting them back together. Wherever you looked, Monsters were creating and innovating, finding new ways to create a working life. When the world Reset itself, they’d start new projects, continued practicing hobbies, set up tents or made temporary stages for performances or meetings. Games were played, songs written, and some particularly industrious people still found ways to put themselves to work. Through it all, Sans was beginning to feel more and more like he was being cornered. Monsters talked, and many of them wanted justice for the Resets and the loss of any chance to escape from the Underground. Others weren’t sure it mattered anymore as long as the human continued their duty of Resetting, or thought maybe the human should stay hidden in the Ruins even as they Reset the world every few weeks. Whispers mentioned the Judge. Surely the Judge would know what to do? Surely surely the Judge could tell them what was right?

He hated it. With each passing day the idea of having to tell the truth about his position inched closer and closer to reality. Even as the Queen avoided him outside the structured time of their classes, and Alphys grew obsessed with perfecting the Solution so she could undo her terrible mistake, Sans found himself finding ways to stay busy, to keep moving. If he never paused for too long he wouldn’t have to think too hard about his role. Wouldn’t have to wonder how he was going to live up to their expectations. The Royal Judge wasn’t supposed to be a public duty, it was something secret, private. The Judge was an ordinary monster for a reason, someone who could judge even the King or Queen fairly if it came to it. Now... He wasn’t sure he could judge fairly, not after everything. And while the whole Underground waited for his decision. No, he didn’t want it. But there wasn’t going to be much choice. Wishing, not for the first time, that he could just fly away in a rocket ship to mars and never look back, Sans occupied himself by helping Mettaton with a class about Acting Methods. Specifically he was supposed to come in and try to sell a Hot Dog to Mettaton while the other reacted in various ways depending on the character being portrayed. It was silly, and watching the robot prance around and loudly proclaim his own virtues to his audience was kind of fun. It was like everything was still normal. Even though the world had changed and it felt like nothing could be the same, there were still things that wouldn’t change.

[thewildomega]

Star in the Sand Ch.7

A/N: Reader has a fucked up childhood. Trigger Warnings.

Getting to the small island you looked around and saw most of the crew heading off towards the town, most likely ready to spend some of the money and treasure they had gotten from the cargo ship heist. Rubbing your arm you bit your lip and furrowed your brows. Since you hadn't participated you didn't get any of the prize, which was fine, you understood you just didn't know what to do now. Crocodile had business to take care of and he had left the ship as soon as it docked. He had seemed a little distant since the other night and you hoped you hadn't done anything. 

You knew you would be here for at least two days and so you decided to head out and find something to do. You didn't really want to go to the town, not with Dolson there. Seeing a small road going out the what looked like farm land you grinned, maybe you could find a peaceful place to draw. Hearing the sound of a pained sigh you furrowed your brows and looked over to the field to see a older man and woman. Noticing the man bent over and the woman trying to help him up you walked over. "Do you need help?" you asked.

Looking up and seeing the young woman walking over the rows of beans towards them the woman smiled. "If you wouldn't mind dear..."

Shaking your head you grinned and grabbed the man's hand before helping him up from his position, hearing his pained groan as he stood back straight, his hand moving to hold his lower back.

"Oh thank you dear, if you hadn't come along I don't know how long he would have been stuck like that." the old woman said.

"Working the farm isn't as easy as it used to be." the man said with a sigh.

"No but we'll get it Niz."

Looking down the rows of snap beans you looked back to the old couple. "If you need any help I'd be more than happy to help you." you told the old couple.

"No, no we couldn't trouble you...."

"It's no trouble, I don't have anything else to do." you said with a smile and a light chuckle.

.....................................

Walking back onto the ship he dropped off the things he had bought in his room before going to look over the ship. He found the chief sitting on a stool snapping beans on the front of the deck. He didn't remember agreeing to the vegetable when he looked over the shopping list. "Where'd these come from?" he asked.

Looking up Maverick gave a small grin, "Lass brought them to me a few hours ago."

"Y/n? Where did she get them?" he asked. He had forgotten to give her any money so he knew she had no way to pay for them.

"Said she picked em', helped some ol' couple all day an' so they let er' take these as payment." Maverick said, grinning around his cigarette. "Should be enough here to feed the crew for a few days."

Grunting he knit his brows. "Where is she now?"

"Sleepin' most likely. Lass offered to help snap em' but she could barely keep er' eyes open. Sun seemed to ave' got er' pretty good. I suspect she's gonna be sore come mornin'."

Huffing he nodded his head to the older man before walking down the stairs to y/n's room. He had been keep his distance for the past day, both work and personal reasons. He was growing attached to the woman, feeling things he had never felt for anyone before and he didn't like it. Feelings were a weakness and he couldn't afford to be weak. Not to mention the two week mark was coming up and he didn't know wither she would suddenly disappear like and go back to her world like he had his.

Knocking lightly on the door with his hook he didn't hear anything. Trying the knob he found it locked and sighed. Looking down he saw the gap under the door and turned to sand, flowing under the door and reforming back once he was inside the dark room. Looking to the bed he froze, she was sleeping on her stomach... shirtless and judging by her leg sticking out of the blanket she was pant-less as well. Quickly catching his cigar before it fell from his lips he swallowed thickly and closed the distance between him and the single bed. Looking over her bare skin he felt his fingers twitch as he craved to stroke the soft skin over her spine. Her hair was fanned out around her, some of it laying over her shoulders and upper back and a few strands in her face. He watched the slow rise and fall as she breathed in, she was sleeping deeply. Maverick had been right she looked exhausted. Why the hell had she went and worked? Looking around the small room he saw the little dresser beside the bed, her locket and drawing book the only thing there. Her book bag sat beside the dresser, empty it look like. He guessed her clothes were put away neatly in the dresser along with her other few personal hygiene products. She was a simple woman, this was their second island now and she had not bothered asking for anything. Not a new book or clothes or jewelry or even food. Oh fuck... food. Had she eaten today? Looking back down to her when she rolled over to her side he saw her arms move to her chest, her forearm covering her breasts. Following the shape of her body with his eyes he saw how her waist dipped in some before coming back out to shape her hips. When his cock throbbed in his pants he grit his teeth, what was this woman doing to him? It was like he was a damn teenager again. Rubbing his face he reached down to pull the blanket up over her some, quickly turning to sand and hurrying to his room.

....................................

The next day he had not been surprised when she slept in. Telling Bonez to come find him once she woke he was now making his way back to the ship. Getting on he looked to the two men left to keep watch, "Where's y/n?" he asked.

"Off ship Captain." the young man said quickly.

Growling he narrowed his eyes, "Which way did she go?"

"I..I..."

"I believe she headed down the beach Captain." the other man added in when the other kept stuttering over his words.

Without another word he got off and started walking down the shoreline. "I'm going to have to assign someone as her bodyguard. Damn woman never sits still." he grumbled to himself. After ten minutes of walking he could feel his temper flaring until he saw a head of red hair up ahead. Walking to the female he saw her hacking away at a tree and furrowed his brows. "What are you doing?"

"Ow shit." you cursed when the sudden deep voice caught you off guard making your hand slip and the knife slice open the top of your thumb. Holding your other hand over the now bleeding gash you looked to him with a small glare. "I am going to hang a bell around your neck."

Ignoring her little remark he stepped forward and took her right hand in his, trying to pull it away from her injured left hand.

"It's fine. Leave it alone." you told him, trying to snatch your hands away from him.

Seeing her still holding the knife he growled. "Give me that." he said, taking the knife from her and stabbing it into the tree. Pulling away her hand he held up her injured one with the backside of his hook to look it over. Seeing the cut fairly deep and bleeding still he sighed. Letting go of her hand he reached up to his neck and started untying his scarf.

"It will be fine." you tried telling him, going to pull away when he gave you a hard glare, silently telling you to not move.

Ripping it off he went about wrapping the silk scarf around her injury, "Hold the end." he told her around his cigar. As soon as she held the other end he tied it off and pulled tight, hearing her let out a little yelp. Once he was satisfied he looked down at her and grabbed her hand, "Back to the ship."

"No, wait." you said, turning to grab you knife. Attempting to pull it from the tree you found it stuck in deep and looked up at him. Without a word he grabbed the knife and pulled it from the trunk. Seeing her grabbing the pieces of bark that had splintered up and stuff them in her pocket he knit his brows. "Willow bark... you are in pain." he commented, knowing the bark was used as a pain reliever.

Sighing you looked down form his eyes and went to grab your knife from his hand. "It's nothing just a little back pain." you told him.

Grunting he allowed her to take the knife and fold it up before she stuck it in her back pocket. "From picking beans all day yesterday." he said as he started leading her back to his ship. "Why did you do that exactly?" he asked.

Shrugging you walked beside him. "Didn't have anything else to do."

"So you decided to spend all day doing free farm work..."

"It wasn't free, I got beans for the crew."

"And now your back hurts and your hand is cut open." he huffed. "When I told you to go find something to do I did not mean go work yourself to exhaustion."

"Hard work never hurt anyone."

"Y/n..." he started.

"I have to find some way to contribute. I don't do anything else to help... I'm just free loading on your ship."  you told him, looking down.

Stopping at the walk board he grabbed her hand and looked down at her. "What exactly do you think I was doing to you? I didn't work or do anything to pay for the things you did for me." he told her.

Looking up into his silver eyes you furrowed your brows, "You did more than you realize." you told him and reached up to remove a stray leaf from his fur coat.

Knitting his brows at the slightly sad look in her blue eyes he opened his mouth to question what she meant but before he could he heard someone calling him.

"Sir Marine ships are on the horizon." Bonez said in a deep voice.

Straightening his back he nodded, "Ready the sails." looking down at her he dropped his eyes to her hand, "Go clean that up."

....................................

It had been a few days since he they had gotten to the island, it was a cold Island with harsh winds. However that didn't seem to stop y/n from wanting to explore the place. While he and his crew had a few things to take care of she had wondered off to do her own thing, much to his dismay. He actually hadn't seen her too much and now that the crew had went off to do their own thing  for their last night on the island he had went in search of her. He had searched the village, the shore and even the hills but so far he had not seen her. Gritting his teeth down on his cigar he moved back to the ship wondering if she had went back to her room for the night. Seeing the three members of the crew sitting by a fire to keep warm while playing cards he rose his chin, "You three seen y/n?" he asked.

"Aye, little lass went back onto ship a little while ago." Maverick told him in his thick accent.

"She looked rather angry..." the younger of the three said.

"Dolson probably." Hex grunted.

"Aye, man keep it up an' she's likely ta loose it."

"It will be his own fault if she does. She's warned him enough times."

Hearing the three men all talk like he wasn't there he knit his brows. "What are you all talking about?"

Adjusting the cards in his hand Hex looked towards his Captain, "That Dolson, he's been testing his limits with y/n."

"By what means?"

"Mav got on him the other morning for taking her food." The young man said in a low voice.

"Why wasn't any of this mentioned to me prior?" he growled.

"She wanted to take care of it on her own."

Turning some he saw Bonez standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. Raising his brow he looked to his next in command. "You knew about this as well?"

"Yes. I told her if it got any worse she was to tell you or I would, so I am here now."

"Then it got worse." he said in a deep voice and heard the man grunt. "How so?"

Biting down on his cigar so hard he was sure he would soon bite it in half he made his way to the ship. Going to go down the stairs he stopped when he saw a small light glowing from the window of his own room. Climbing the steps to the door he opened it and as soon as he stepped inside he was hit with the scent of eucalyptus. "Y/n?" he called, seeing the candle on his desk was the one giving off the light. Hearing her soft hum he raised his brow as he closed the door and slowly walked into the room. "Are you in my bathroom?" he asked, seeing the door pulled to.

"Revenge, you use my tub, I use yours." you told him, keeping your eyes closed as you brought the bottle to your lips. "More like a swimming pool though." you mumbled under your breath.

Removing his coat he placed it on the back of his chair as he pulled it out to sit in it, grinning slightly at her words. "So care to tell me what happened between you and Dolson tonight?" he asked, pouring himself a cup of whiskey.

"No." you huffed, sinking down deeper into the hot water and wincing at the soreness in your side.

Humming he swirled the alcohol around the glass. "Very well then I will speak to you what I have heard and then you can either fill in the empty parts or remain quiet if they are true." When she said nothing he took it as a sign to continue. "You were out playing in the snow..."

"I was sightseeing... and occasionally... playing in the snow." you corrected, mumbling the last part.

Grinning he laid his head back against the back of the chair. "Alright you were sight seeing and Dolson started bothering you but you told him off and then carried on with your exploring..." Hearing nothing he took a sip. "Later on when you went to go play cards with the rest of the crew at the bar he again came up to you and started harassing you. After telling him off you threw your dink in his face..."

"He grabbed my ass... In front of everyone!"

Ignoring her little outburst he continued on, all the while clenching his glass so hard he was sure it would soon shatter. "Then the two of you got into a fight in the bar where the few marines that were here broke the fight up and threw the both of you out of the bar." he finished. When she didn't say anything he glanced towards the closed door. "Are you hurt?"

"No." you answered quickly, your lip bit between your teeth.

"You are not a good liar."

Taking a deep breath you sighed and looked towards the wall. "Nothing I can't handle." Sitting still you listened and then looked down to the water. "Am I in trouble."

Hearing the worry in her voice he scratched his head with the curve of his hook. "No my dear you are not in trouble but I would like to know why you didn't come to me if he was bothering you."

Swallowing the rum you kept your eyes on the water. "I didn't want to bother you with it. I wanted to handle it on my own. The taunting and shit I can take, I grew up being bullied by the rest of the kids in the orphanage, words are one thing but I... I don't like being touched."

"Why have you never said anything when I touch you?" he asked. He hoped she hadn't been letting him touch her simply out of fear. He had never touched her sexually but he had held her hand, touched her back and little things like that."It's not the same." you said and then closed your eyes, "You don't... you don't make it feel like ..him." Furrowing his brows he glanced towards the bathroom. "Dolson?" "No." Hearing how soft her voice was alerted him that something deeper was behind this. There were things she had told him, things from her past that never added up right in his head, like some part of a puzzle that was missing.  "Y/n... what happened to you?" he asked, his voice low and deep. "Why were you on your own so young?" Swallowing thickly you pulled your knees up to your chest and hugged them. No one knew about you, you had never spoken to anyone about your life. You didn't have anyone, you had no friends, no family. Vick was the closest person you ever had and you had never even told him this part about your life. Crocodile for some reason made you feel safe, he made you feel secure. Even from the first moment he fell into your living room he had a way of putting your mind at ease. He had saved you, although he didn't know it. He knew more about you than anyone ever had, you had shared your interests, your dreams, your fears but this, telling him this could change everything and you were terrified. Hearing him call your name again in that voice that always seemed to sooth your soul you closed your eyes and licked your lips. "The orphanage I grew up in lost it's funding when I was twelve. It lasted a few months longer from the help of the community but finally we had to all be relocated. I didn't much care what happened, I was never close to any of the other kids, I didn't have any friends, I was the freak." you told him. Drawing swirly patterns on the surface of the water to keep your nerves at bay. "Well I got sent to a family that worked in the foster care system. I remember being so happy on the ride over to their house. I was finally going to have a family. God was I wrong. There was four other children there, all boys. The mom was horrible, she treated all of us like dirt, made it clear she didn't want any of us there. She made sure we knew no one wanted us, that the only reason we were there was because they got money for taking us in....I hated it there so much, the only good thing about that place was that I got my own room, something that I had never had before." Taking a deep breath you felt your heart hammering against your rib cage. "For the first few months I didn't see anything of the dad, I had heard about him, apparently him and the mom had split a week before I got there. I never knew why at the time and I knew better than to ask. One day though I walked into the living room and he was sitting there talking to her. I knew something was wrong as soon as he looked at me, I will never be able to get that out of my head." He had been sitting completely still in his chair throughout her story, his fingers clenching at the armrest so hard they were white. Still he remained silent, even when she had to stop he didn't say a word. "Anyway, they wanted to try and work things out so he moved back in and that's when things changed. The first thing he did was move me to the basement, said their oldest son, who was actually theirs shouldn't have to share his room. So I got put on a pull out bed down there with all the mom's sewing stuff. After that he just started doing little things, made rules that only applied to me. I could only wear dresses, that my hair had to be kept in a ponytail. When we ate dinner I had to sit beside him. Now I was young and I didn't think anything of it at first until he made another rule... he said I had to give him a goodnight kiss every night before bed. If I didn't or I forgot he'd beat me with his belt." "Didn't his wife find this strange?" he asked, the vein in his forehead popping out. "She ignored it, I don't think she wanted to admit it was happening. When he started doing more.... when he started..." shivering you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. "... touching me... I went to her. I told her what he was doing, I begged her to make him stop but she told me it was my own fault. She hit me and told me that if I wasn't such a whore he wouldn't be tempted." His blood felt like it was boiling now, his knee bouncing and his hook shaking from how angry he was getting. "Then what happened?" he asked, his voice deep. The water in the bath was cold now but you didn't want to move. "One day when she was gone and the boys were at a birthday party he came down to where my bed was and he um..." Blinking away tears you rubbed your face. "He... he tried to take things further... I kicked him and tried fighting back. He got mad and started beating me with his belt again but I wouldn't give in. Then he took my locket... it's the only thing I've ever had that was really mine. It's the only thing I have from them... from my parents. He took it and he threatened to break it, he said the if I didn't listen he would break it. I was crying and begging him not to. He tossed it to the floor and started trying to pull off my dress." Your whole body was shaking now and it felt like you couldn't get enough air. "I.. I was terrified and I kept trying to push away his hands. He pushed me into the sewing table and I heard him snap his belt again. When I looked down I saw a pair of scissors and when he went to grab me I did the only thing I could think of." Biting your lip you tasted blood in your mouth. "I stabbed him with them, I don't even know where, it happened so fast. I remember him screaming but I didn't look back, I grabbed my locket from the floor and I ran, lived on the streets until Vick helped me." Clenching his teeth he stared up at the ceiling as everything she told him sunk in.  He was so angry, not at her, definitely not at her. What he wouldn't give to have that man brought before him. Not even brought to him, he'd hunt him down himself. Then when he did find him he'd torture him, slowly. Fuck he needed to kill something. He could hear the blood pumping in his ears. Standing he pulled on his coat. "I have something I have to take care of. You stay in there as long as you want.." "Croc..." "I will have Maverick bring you something to eat and something to help you rest. Afterwards you are to sleep in my bed, it's too cold for you to sleep below." He told her, grabbing his pistol from the shelf. "Crocodile wait..." "Y/n just do as I say. Everything is fine." he said before he walked out, shutting the door behind him. "...don't leave me..." you whispered as the door closed. ....................................... Stomping down the wallboard he snapped his eyes to the chief. "Go make her something to eat and make her a tea to help her rest. I want you to keep watch over the ship, don't let anyone else in my chambers with her and don't let her leave." he ordered, not even giving the man time to answer before he started walking away, "You two find the rest of the crew and bring them to the shore. Bonez go get him?" "Yes sir." It was high time he showed the rest of the crew why one didn't cross Crocodile.

Standing on the moon lit shoreline he looked through the trees as the rest of the crew started filing in. He could see as they all looked around to one another, wondering why they had been brought here but he didn't say a word. When he heard a muffled noise he looked over to see Bonez dragging Dolson towards him. When the man was thrown to his feet he looked down and saw he had four scratches on his cheek, most likely from y/n. "What the fuck is this about?!" Dolson yelled, going to stand. Getting to his feet he looked in front of him to see the captain looking down his nose at him, his hair slightly disheveled from the wind and a cigar bit between his teeth. "I do not believe I stuttered when I said that y/n was not to be harmed." he said, keeping his voice void of emotion. "Oh I see, little bitch went whining back to her master." Dolson huffed. His lip twitched but he kept his face void of emotion, well that was until the man's next words. "You know I didn't realize the world known Crocodile would be so pussy whipped." Seeing the rest of the men looking to one another he growled and pulled the trigger on his pistol, shooting the man in the knee and hearing him scream as he fell. Panting for breath, his hands shook as he pushed himself into a standing position. Chuckling out he balanced on one leg and looked back up at the man. "Damn, that little whore got you wrapped around her finger good, pity I didn't get to see how skilled that mouth was myself." In an instant he had his hand wrapped around the man's throat and was lifting him from the ground. "I gave you an order and you disobeyed me...." "I just pointed out your weakness!" Squeezing he used his devil powers to drain the man dry. By the time he was done only a pile of dust fell from his clothing to the snow. Looking up to see everyone watching him, some with wide eyes other in acceptance he raised his chin. "Anyone else?" he asked in a deep voice. "When no one spoke he huffed out. "Everyone ready the ship, we are leaving tonight." Without another word they all hurried from the scene and towards the ship. Seeing Bonez standing there he looked to him. "There were some that were close to him, we will need to keep an eye on them. They may try to force Dolson's words into the rest of the crew's mind."  Daz said in a calm voice, his arms crossed over his chest. Grunting he handed over his pistol and pushed back his hair. "Then they will met the same fate." "Yes sir." was all he said before he turned towards the ship and started walking away leaving the Captain to his thoughts. Standing there all alone he looked down to the pile of ashes by his feet and scoffed, his weakness. He wasn't weak and he didn't have any weaknesses. Y/n didn't mean anything to him, he had killed the man for disobeying an order, nothing more. He was repaying a debt that was it. She had helped him, he was helping her. Biting down on his cigar he stepped into the man's remains as he walked back to his ship.   ..................................... Hearing the door open and close you looked to the door to see Crocodile come in. He didn't look at you as he removed his coat, hanging it on the back of his chair. He looked tense, his shoulders squared off and his brows dipped low. Sitting up in his bed you held the thick duvet tightly around you and furrowed your brows. "Croc..." "We are leaving the island, the temperature will rise soon. Go to your own bed." he said, refusing to look up at her and focusing his attention on placing up his pistol and removing his hook. Hearing how cold his voice was you snapped your eyes down and slowly got out of his bed. Going to pull his blankets back up to make the bed back you heard him speak again. "Leave it and go." Curling inward you gently placed the blanket back down and pulled your hands to your chest. Walking to the door you took one last glance up at the huge man, feeling an ache in your heart when he wouldn't even look at you. "Goodnight Crocodile." you whispered. Hurrying down to your room you closed the door behind you and locked it. Crawling into your cold, hard bed you pulled the thin blanket over your body and curled up. Looking up at the window you saw the stars and felt tears prickle the corner of your eyes. You shouldn't have told him the truth. ........................................... Washing the dishes from dinner you stared down at the dirty water and as you worked in silence. Everyone had already eaten and brought their plates over for you, well everyone except for the captain who had eaten in his room again. You hadn't seen him since the other night and you were sure he had been avoiding you. It was a mistake telling him about your past, everything had seemed fine before that but now he didn't want to even look at you. Scrubbing the last dish you rinsed them and dried them before putting them up. "Ya sure ya don't want nothin' ta eat lass?" Maverick asked. Looking up to the man you forced a small grin. "No I'm good. Thank you though." you told him before leaving the kitchen and heading to your room. Opening the door you went to close it when you heard someone call your name. Looking up you saw it was Bonez. "Oh... hello Bonez." you said in a soft voice. "Would you still like to learn how to sail?" he asked the small woman. Looking up at him you saw he was serious and nodded. Crocodile had said he would show you but he hadn't had the chance but you would take what you could get. Besides if you could learn how to do deck work then you would be of more use to him. Following the muscled man to the deck you saw most of the other had called it a night, the two of you the only one left on the deck other than Ori who was sitting up in the crow's nest keeping watch. Glancing towards Crocodile's chambers you saw a light on through the windows of the door and looked down. "I will start by showing you all the ropes and pulleys and explaining what they do..." Hearing voices outside on the deck he furrowed his brows when he realized it was Bonez, the man normally didn't talk very much. Getting up he walked to the door and opened it a small amount to look out across the deck. Seeing Daz standing by the shrouds he furrowed his brows and then noticed a small figure behind him and stiffened when he saw it was y/n. She was listening intently to what the man had to say, watching as he pointed up to the sails and then down to the ropes. Was he teaching her how to work the deck? He had told her he would show her but he hadn't made the effort to do so yet. Looking back up to her face he saw her nod to whatever Bonez had just told her before she said something in return. Letting his eyes scan over her he saw her shoulders dropped down and her arms wrapped around her. She had braided her hair and it was laying over her shoulder with little pieces falling out and blowing around her face. Looking at her face he frowned slightly, she looked tired, her lips not pulled upwards in the normal soft smile he was accustomed to seeing her wear. Biting down on his cigar he closed the door, no it didn't matter if she wasn't smiling. Walking back to his desk he flopped down in his chair and poured himself a large glass of rum. Stop thinking about her, he growled to himself. Picking up the book he tried to pick up where he had left off. For the past few days he had been avoiding her at all cost, thinking if he wasn't around her these feelings would go away. No not feelings. He didn't have feelings for her. It was some kind of mixture of gratitude and lust, nothing more. Tomorrow would make two weeks she had been here so if he was lucky she would just go back to her own world and then he wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. Thinking about her being gone made his chest throb though. Growling he tossed down the book and downed his glass before grabbing the bottle and walking to his bathroom. Maybe a long bath would help ease his nerves. ................................. Not being able to sleep again tonight you grabbed your sketch pad and quietly made your way onto the deck. It was dead quiet out and looking up you saw Bonez in the crows nest. The man gave you a small glance and nod before looking back out to the sea, doing something else you couldn't see from here. Walking to the very front of the ship you sat down on the floor and crossed your legs under you. Flipping open your sketch book to the drawing you had been working on you let out a sigh and started adding in shadows and highlights while you thought back on the day. Feeling the rope slip between your hands you hissed out as it burned your palms and fingers. Before you had a chance to look at them a deep and cold voice cut through the air. "Why isn't that line tied down?" Crocodile yelled, looking over the crew for an answer. When none of them answered he narrowed his eyes and looked through the crowd until they stepped aside, revealing y/n standing by the rigging. Feeling his eyes on you you looked up and watched him make his way over to you. Opening your mouth to speak he cut you off. "What the hell are you doing?" he growled. Furrowing your brows at the hard look in his eyes you licked your lips, "I..I'm sorry it slipped  when I..." Feeling the rest of the crew's eyes on them he grit his teeth. "I don't want your damn excuses woman. Are you so pathetic you can not tie down one rope?!" Gasping a little at the way he was speaking to you you looked down, feeling tiny under his formidable glare. "I'm sorry." you whispered. Going to grab the rope again you froze when he grabbed your wrist in a tight hold, snatching you towards him. Seeing the rope burn on her hand he grit his teeth a mix of emotions running through him. She was hurt, a layer of skin rubbed away. A part of him wanted to lift her into his arms and carry her to his room so he could treat the wounds but he knew he couldn't. He couldn't show weakness and it only angered him more. Seeing everyone still watching he bit down on his cigar and shoved her away from him, making her fall to her bottom on the deck. Refusing to look down at her he turned away, "Go back to your room." "Croco..." Growling he snapped his eyes back down to her "NOW! Or I will toss you to the sea kings." he yelled. The look on her face, shock and fear, it was one he had seen many times from others. HE had always enjoyed the power he had over others, the way even his presence could make a grown man tremble in terror. It was a look he took pride in, that was until he saw it on her face. She said not a word, her eyes dropping to the ground. Standing you ignored the pain in your hands. Mumbling a soft apology to him you turned and walked through the men to the stairs. Getting down to your room you curled up in bed and felt tears roll across the bridge of your nose. A strong pressure had resided in your chest ever since then. You hadn't come down for supper and thankfully no one had bothered you. Glancing to the Captain's quarters you saw the light still on and bit your lip. Dropping your eyes back to your drawing you rubbed your finger over the shadow underneath the hourglass. Tilting your head you moved to the top of the page and started drawing in the moon and clouds. Furrowing your brows you dropped your hand some and added in an oddly shaped star. Blinking you looked over the eight pointed star and felt a strange feeling in your chest. "Don't you ever sleep?" Flinching you dropped your pencil and looked up to see Crocodile standing above you. He wore a pair of lounge pants and his coat, no shirt or boots. A cigar hung lazily from his lips and his lidded eyes looked down on you in a way that made you feel small. "I couldn't sleep." you answered softly. Looking down you flipped your book closed and crawled after your pencil as it started rolling away. Seeing her pencil rolling away he placed his foot on it to stop it and bent down to grab it before standing back up. Looking it over he saw it was actually a charcoal pencil, a very short charcoal pencil. Licking your lips you grabbed your book and stood. Looking up his silk clad legs you saw him hold out your pencil and reached out for it, your eyes still not rising to his. Placing your fingers on the pencil something caught your eye. Looking to his left hip you saw a familiar shape in black ink. "I didn't know you had a tattoo." you said in a soft voice. Freezing he saw her eyes looking at his soulmate mark and snapped his own eyes to her. "Yes... ah..." don't do it... "Do you?" he asked before he could stop himself. A small hint of hope filled him but when she shook her head he felt it quickly disappear, a cold emptiness taking it's place. Shaking your head you looked up at him, happy the two of you were speaking again. " No I don't have any tattoos but I..." "Go to bed y/n." he said, interrupting her and turning to quickly make his way back to his own chambers. The small smile that had started to form on your face instantly fell as you watched him walk away from you. Curling up you pulled your sketchbook to your chest and looked down as you did as he said and went below deck but knew no sleep would come to you tonight. .................................... Finishing up the last piece you bit your lip and looked down at your hard work. Sure it wasn't a real chess board but you thought you had done a pretty good job of drawing out each piece onto the rocks you had found. You had even drawn a board onto a slice of log you had convinced Bonez to cut for you. Satisfied you dropped the rocks into baggie and stuck the log under your arm before heading to Crocodile's room. Hearing the rest of the crew in the kitchen you  bit your lip nervously as you made your way up the stairs to the door, holding on tighter to the railing as the wind blew. Standing in front of the door you closed your eyes and took a deep breath before raising your hand to knock. "What is it?" Hearing his deep voice you grabbed the knob and turned it, pushing it open slowly and looking inside to see him lounging on his bed, reading. He had his left arm thrown behind his head, his hook resting on his bedside table. His feet were crossed and a cigar was pinched between his lips. He looked relaxed to you, that was until he looked up and saw you standing there. It was her, what was she doing here? Swallowing hard he dropped his eyes back to his book, "Go away y/n. I'm busy..." "Wait.. I... I made you something." you said quickly. When his eyes looked back up to you, a bored expression on his face you licked your lips and stepped inside his room, setting the 'board' down on the desk and dumping out the little rocks to start setting them up. Sighing he got up form his bed and walked over to her. "What is this?" he asked, looking down at the junk she was putting on his desk. Taking a deep breath you set up the pieces and then looked up to him, a hopeful grin on your face. "I made a chessboard." you told him. Noticing him looking at it with a blank expression you grinned sheepishly and rubbed your arm. "I thought we could play." Looking between her and the makeshift board he felt that warming in his chest and grit his teeth. "No. Go ask someone..." "I don't want to play with anyone else." you said quickly cutting him off. When he still tried brushing you off you furrowed your brows. "What did I do wrong?" "Leave y/n..." "NO!" you yelled, loosing your temper and making his eyes snap back to you. "Why have you been ignoring me? If I did something wrong tell me so I can apologize or make it right. If it's about what I told you the other night I'm sorry I didn't mean to make things awkward. I only told you because you asked and you are my friend so I..." "Wait..." he said, looking to her in shock. "Friend? You think I am your friend?" he asked. When he saw her look to him with in confusion he chuckled and then he started to laugh. He was laughing, why was he laughing? It didn't sound like the laugh you had heard before. Slowly you started curling into yourself. "...aha! You stupid girl. Do you honestly think I would be friends with someone as pathetic as you?!" he said with a smile on his face. When she didn't answer he shook his head. "I wasn't helping you because I wanted us to be friends. I helped you simply because you helped me. I was paying off a debt. A debt I will add that has been repaid fully. Two weeks I was with you in your world and as of yesterday it has been two weeks here as well. We are even now, there is no reason for me to be burdened by you any further." Her eyes stayed down, looking at the 'chessboard' on his desk. Feeling a sharp pain in his chest he felt his lip twitch into a snarl. Grunting he walked back to it and placed his finger on the wood, using his powers to drain all the moisture out of wood. When the rocks and dust fell to the desk top he grit his teeth around his cigar. "Unless you want to end up the same I suggest you get out of my sight." he told her in a deep voice. Staring at his hand you felt the knot in your throat becoming harder to hold in. Dropping your eyes to the dark wood floor you slowly walked from the room. Grabbing the knob with shaking fingers you opened it and stepped out, refusing to look at him, knowing it would only cause you more pain. Shutting the door softly behind you you felt your feet carry you down to your room. Getting inside you trembled and lifted your head, feeling tears finally drop from your eyes and roll down your cheeks. Grabbing your bag you unzipped it and packed your sketch book and pencil. Opening your drawer to take the hygiene products he had bought you but leaving the clothes and book he had bought you in a neat pile on top of the dresser. Swallowing thickly you closed your eyes, grabbing your Sketchbook you ripped out a piece of paper and sat down on your bed... well not yours anymore. After writing your goodbye letter you waited until everyone went to bed before you quietly left the room you had been using. Making your way out onto the deck you glanced over to Crocodile's chambers and saw the light out. Next you looked up to the crow's nest and saw one of the crew members up there, from the looks of it he was sleeping. Taking a deep breath you hurried over to one of the little boats. Doing the ropes you bit your lip and muffled a whimper as it hit your still burnt palms from the other day. Managing to lower it down you climbed down the ropes and cut them loose. With the strong wind it took no time before the ship was far from you. Watching it get further and further away you tried swallowing down the sob but the ache in your heart was becoming unbearable. You had been so stupid. Of course he didn't want to be your friend and he damn sure wouldn't want anything else with you. He was one of the seven warlords of the sea, he was far out of your league. He didn't want you, no one did. Looking out at the open sea and then up to the stars you felt the tears fall from your eyes  like rivers. Pulling your knees up to your chest you held your face in your hands. Never feeling more alone than you did right now.

[roro-mo]

Blessed

Sorry for such a late entry but I really wanted to participate for ZONAMI event. I've finally caught up with one piece and my love for ZONA came back like a drug withdrawal. I’ve been stalking the zonami tag and saw @zonamievents was holding an event. I really love this pair and really want to contribute again.

I haven't written anything in almost forever and the last fanfic I wrote for ZONA was a looooooonggg timeee ago (because I swear dressrosa arc lasted like 3 years). But I really want to continue giving love to this ship so here you go. You may find grammatical mistakes here and there so read with caution. I also rushed to post this sooooo .....anywaysss Enjoy! 

Disclaimer: I don't own one piece, if I did, this ship would've sailed already. 

Prompt Used: Fireplace

.............................….............................….............................….......................

She sat in front of the fireplace, warmth and love enveloping her. She was exactly where she dreamt to be.

The strawhat pirates were drifting through the ocean to their next destination, which appeared to be a winter island. The air was chilly, and snow started to build on the deck. For the first few days, one could see Luffy, Ussop and Chopper making snowman and playing in the snow; Ussop made a huge version of himself using snow, Chopper made another reindeer and Luffy ended up destroying them as his Merry laughter was heard throughout the ship. They played all kinds of snow games, they made snow angles, played snow fighting and even had a drawing competition on the snow. But after a few days, even the playful trio retreated inside, into the warmth of sunny.

To adopt the traditions of Christmas, Franky built a temporary fireplace in the kitchen and the crew worked together in decorating the kitchen and their Christmas tree together. The kitchen paralleled the snowy deck outside as it  was decorated with silver tinsels everywhere. They each hung one Christmas stocking on the fireplace mantle. Luffy was the most excited and he asked Sanji whether he would receive meat in his stocking. 

The crew decided to celebrate Christmas with a huge Christmas Eve feast, as can be expected from Luffy’s stomach, followed up by a secret Santa by the fire place and Christmas tree. Unfortunately, the feast turned out to be a banquet which lasted until the midnight, secret Santa long forgotten about. 

Soul king officially held a secret concert - unknown to his fans- in the sunny and his signature ‘yohoho’ laughter was contagious with Luffy, Ussop and Chopper joining in to imitate soul king.

Robin sat on an armchair near the fireplace, covering herself with a blanket to preserve heat. She was in the middle of reading her book but giggled when her captain jumped on the table and was trying to steal the soul king’s spotlight by screeching on the top of his lungs - which to him, bless his soul, he thought was singing.

Ussop was now laughing, rolling around the floor and Chopper went onto his party mode. He shoved two chopsticks up his nose and used a basket to dance from left to right, then right to left. Robin’s eyes followed the little reindeer and she giggled some more. 

Robin’s eyes then strayed from chopper to Franky who was moving his tushie back and forth, and his two robot hands collided to form a star. Her eyes stayed a little longer on his perky butt before turning to read her book once again.

For once, Sanji and Zoro were not seen arguing. Call it a Christmas Miracle or Nami’s clever planning. Sanji was drinking wine with Nami on the table and they were reminiscing about their adventure in whole cake island. They had already drank 3 bottles together talking about their adventures. The wine had little impact on Nami but Sanji was starting to see two Namis. He blinked to power through this rare occasion where Nami-Swan was gracing him with her presence. Nami was feeling nostalgic, she never dreamt of having another family outside of her village and so many adventures during her struggle with Arlong crew. Maybe it was the snow outside or the warmth emitting from the fireplace, she really wanted to share and treasure these moments where all of them were together. 

Nami shared how she really thought he was going to leave the crew during his fight with Luffy. Sanji told her how his brothers fell in love with her, “as if anyone won’t” he said with heart eyes whilst laughing and singing “mellorinnnee”. A scoff was heard from the fireplace but she dismissed it. 

She felt an eye on her back - watching her carefully as her hands lightly touched Sanji’s forearm on the table. A disapproval grunt was heard from the fireplace and she retracted her hand. She turned to face the owner of the voice and stuck her tongue out. She hated that his eye was always on her, leaving her little room to do anything mischievous without his knowledge. But she felt safe knowing he was always watching her, keeping her safe. It took her time to get used to her possessive lover but surprisingly, she was fond of his love language. She loved the way his eye hawked at her when she wore skimpy outfits; she loved the way his calloused hands felt on her skin, the way his fingers twirled with her hair as if it was the most precious thing in the world and the way his lip kissed her whole body. Despite the warm room, she shivered at the thought of his tongue trailing her curves once again and could not wait for them to have some alone time once they dock on the island they were heading towards. She shook her head to keep her indecent thoughts away. 

She then went on to tease Sanji about Pudding and how they almost got married. Sanji, with heart in his eyes, then got up to tell his goddess not to worry about the queen he met in whole cake island. He sang to Nami that he loves both of them equally and would marry Nami-swan instead - no scratch that- would marry both of them if he could. But all of a sudden the kitchen moved and he saw three Namis before falling on the floor from all the drinks they had. His body betrayed him, he wanted to stay just a little longer and continue chatting with Nami but he was now drunk and out for the night. 

Nami sighed, knowing she picked the wrong drinking partner. She turned around to look for her original drinking partner who took another swing from his mug. She got up, ignored the lifeless body and stepped over Sanji, who was lying on the floor face first. 

Barrels of drinks lay next to the swordsman, and a grin was plastered on his face. He was laying on the floor whilst resting his back on the sofa and watching the little sparks of fire burn the wood in front of him. 

Sounds of heels clicked against the floor as Nami made her way towards Zoro with another bottle of wine on her hand. She asked him “what’s with the grin?” And without turning, he stated, “You done with love cook?” 

She made a disapproving look as she sat with a thump next to him, in front of the fire place. She knew that statement wasn’t a question and he meant many things with that simple statement. One of them being she made the right decision to choose him over Twirly brows. She knew he was listening to their conversation, but she didn’t care anymore. At first, it irritated her when he was always listening to her conversations with other crew members, especially when she would talk to Sanji. But she eventually gave up because this was his way of protecting her.

She opened the bottle of her wine and said “you know he and I share memories that you and I don’t have.” She gulped down some wine straight from the bottle and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before saying “and we have secrets you and I don’t have!” 

All zoro did was chuckle as he gulped down some more sake. 

“We so do!” Nami whined, knowing he didn’t believe her. 

“Sanji brothers love me he says!” 

“Ohhh” he said with a grin. “What a surprise.”

“Looks like pervertism runs in their family.” 

“Is that even a word, idiot.” 

Nami received a shrug before he gulped some more sake. 

She missed this. She missed zoro and being in the same place with the whole crew. With so many battles and saving islands one after another, she was tired of saving others to be honest. She reminisced about her young 10 year old, who was saving the town and who never dreamt of being a pirate. But look at her now; navigator of a pirate ship, singing binks’ sake song and drinking till the morning. She smiled as she recalled all of her memories - the good and the bad. 

“What’s with the smile?” It was his turn to ask as he finally looked her way when she went silent for a while. 

She was blessed and she knew it. She was glad the 10 year old, the 12 year old and the eventful 18 year old who met Luffy and Zoro didn’t give up. She was glad she just didn’t end it, she was always close to losing it every time but her precious Bellemere-san didn’t raise her to be a quitter and Nami was thankful to the young her. 

“Hey” he said softly when she didn’t respond. 

Nami leaned on his shoulder and knew she was exactly where her young 10 year old dreamt her 20 year old to be. 

She then started to talk about what was on her mind and reminisced about the day they met. She explained that fate had connected her to Luffy and Zoro; how she didn’t believe they would come chasing her and how he almost drowned in front of her. 

She didn’t realise it but she clutched his yukata coat slightly harder at that memory. Her mind went to buggy and she giggled, earning her an eyebrow from the swordsman with whom she was laying on the floor with. 

“Is my death a joke to you?” He said seriously offended at the thought of Nami laughing when he almost drowned. But he didn’t really believe he would’ve died then. He couldn’t explain it but when it came to Nami, he was able to see through her, even when she was being an annoying little witch. He didn’t ever want to admit it but he let nami twist him in her little fingers, and did favours for her. Somewhere down the line, he left his guard down - maybe it was the day he jumped on the pool, risking his life or maybe it was the moment they met - but his trust and bond with her only grew stronger with time.

She laughed once more, which were drowned out by the violin Brook was still playing. She giggled and shook her head. Nami then described their blue haired acquaintance Buggy and Zoro made a disgusted face at the thought of Buggy. She giggled, shifting closer to the swordsman and said, “I’m thankful to Buggy because we met thanks to him.” 

They sat there, in front of the fireplace, as laughter died down one after another. Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper all fell asleep on the table; it was beyond their bed time and they all had one drink too many. The soft violin music eventually stopped but the navigator’s voice continued to be heard in the kitchen. She was still talking about their adventures they shared together while Zoro just drank some more, grunted here and there to say he was still listening to her. She continued to lean on him and rest her head on his shoulders as she spoke sweet nothings. 

Franky was eventually tired and decided to find a spot to fall asleep. He sat on the floor, next to the arm chair where Robin was still reading her book. He leaned his head on Robin’s legs and let slumber take him over. Robin smiled and draped the blanket she had over Franky to keep him warm. She was worried he would catch a cold because he’s always only wearing Speedos. She patted his head and went back to to her book.

In front of the fire, which was now beginning to fade. Zoro lifted his arm to wrap her and pull her closer to him. He ran his fingers through her hair, just the way she liked it, and used his fingers to brush his hair. He kissed the top of her head and whispered with a smile, “is there anything else I need to know about this secret you share with nose-bleed kun?” 

Nami smiled, resting her head on zoro chest. She listened to his steady breathing, his chest rising and falling with each breathe, lulling her to sleep. She had chosen the right person after all - she was content and in bliss. She sat in front of the fireplace, warmth and love enveloping her. She was exactly where she dreamt to be. 

Bonus: 

In the dawn of the morning, Jimbei climbed down from the crows nest and made his way to the kitchen. He wanted to wish everyone Merry Christmas and see if secret Santa actually happened after he left - though he doubted it. He had partied with Luffy at his request halfway though Christmas Eve but as the responsible pirate he was, he still wanted to take the watch to make sure they were safe on the sea. He opened the door and his mouth almost fell on the floor. 

Luffy was sleeping on the table while hugging Chopper for some heat. Ussop was on the floor and Brook fell asleep on a 90 degree angle in a corner of the room. Jembei realised Brook must’ve gotten stuck while showing his skill and fell asleep on the same spot. Robin and Franky were on the floor sharing a blanket. He could not find Sanji but would’ve found him on the same spot he fell if Jimbei walked a little further in. Zoro was sleeping on the floor as usual but what surprised him was Nami. She was next to him, resting her head and hand on his chest but he was sure they hated each other with all the bickering and arguing. Jimbei just shrugged it off, thinking it must be their weird way of communicating. His face paled as he though ‘Maybe that’s what turns them on!’

He really went ahead and joined a crazy crew. 

//////////

Hope you enjoyed the fanfic. Have a good day/evening/night! 

[aifastic]

Winning Lines

The @talesofteufort zine has been shipped, and the PDFs sent! Thank you very much to everyone who contributed. I’m very glad to have been able to participate in this project; it was a wonderful experience and it’s been great working with everyone aaaa ♥

I’m really happy to share my piece for the zine! I really hope you all like it ♥ (Read it below the cut)

Title: Winning Lines Words: 1845 Warnings: None Summary: BLU has a drawing contest. Demo just wants his magazine back.

-----

“ARE YOU MANN ENOUGH TO DRAW THIS BETTER THAN US?”

The header caught BLU’s Demoman’s attention. He’d been reading the latest issue of Hat-Wearing Man when he found the ad at the bottom of one of the pages. There was a somewhat simple drawing of a monkey in a spacesuit. “If you draw Poopy Joe better than our extremely talented artist, we’ll give him the boot—and kick his ass in the process! And your picture will be the new image of our project and you, our lucky friend, will win nothing less than $700 dollars!”

“Huh, it doesn’t look that hard…” he said, pensive. Suddenly, the magazine was snatched from his hands. “Hey!”

“Ohohoh, what’s this?” Scout said, grinning at the magazine. “Hey, I’d win this in the blink of an eye!”

“Oi! Get your own!” Demo took the magazine back. “I’m gonna try this. Mum will love the extra money,” he added to himself.

“Pffft, no way, it’s a waste of mail money, pally. If someone should participate, that’s someone who actually has a chance.”

“Heh.”

They turned around to see Sniper in a corner, grinning.

“What’s your deal, Long Legs?”

“Shut up, ya scoundrel. If anyone has a chance here, it’s me.”

“Oh, yeah?” Demo asked. “Where’s your credentials, mate?”

“Don’t need any,” he said. “Quiet kid, hours at the back of the classroom sketching the teacher being eaten by a croc.” He grinned. “It should be easy as cake.”

“Oi, do ya remember the magazine is mine?”

“I agree, though—the chance should be for whoever’s got the talent.”

Demo sighed. “Aye, alright. But I’m not gonna just give it away.” His face lit up, an idea coming to his mind. “You’ll have to beat me for it.”

“Huh?” Both mercenaries stared at him quizzically.

Demo grinned, eye glinting.

“Let’s have a drawing contest.”

-----

They emptied the kitchen table in order to make room for their sheets of paper, pencils and pens. In the meantime, they threw evaluative gazes at each other, competitive strike flaring up.

The rest of the team slowly wandered to the room to find out what was going on.

“What is noise?” asked Heavy, scratching his chest. Medic, who was right behind him, had just closed it, having found himself too distracted by the ruckus to continue his surgery.

“We’re about to find out who’s gonna win 700 dollars!”

Medic perked up. “I am in. What is the bet?”

“We’re not betting, mate.” Sniper showed him the magazine’s ad. “It’s a contest.”

Medic’s smile turned dangerous. “Even better.”

“Heavy is in, too.”

“Aw, come on, guys! It’s not as if you’re gonna beat me!”

Heavy threw Scout an unimpressed look. “It is fun. I want extra money. I am in.”

“Alright, alright, mate. Sure.” Demo handed them both some extra sheets of paper they'd brought just in case.

Medic excused himself to go search for a couple of pens. On his way out, he almost crashed onto Soldier.

“Ach, watch where you’re going!”

“I need sustenance, maggot! And you’re on my way!” He shoved Medic away, making him stumble on the way out. A couple of German swears could be heard from the corridor. “Hello, everyone!”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re gonna get in too,” Scout groaned.

“In what?” Soldier inquired, tilting his head. Demo showed him the magazine’s ad.

Engineer peeked over his shoulder.

“Oh, a drawing contest?” he said, looking at it with a fond smile. “Heh. It’s been a while since I tried my hand at one o’ those. But I thought they allowed only one entry per ad?”

“That is point,” Heavy said. “We are fighting to get chance to earn money.”

“Oh…” Soldier grinned. “I’m in, maggots! I actually studied art with Kickasso.”

Everyone stared at him.

“Sure, mate,” Demo said, patting his back and attempting to lead him into the kitchen.

“You don’t believe me!” Soldier looked at everyone. Engie shrugged. Scout picked at his nails, and Sniper scratched the table distractedly. Heavy’s eyes said it all. “I will prove it to all of you!” And he headed to the table, snatching a paper sheet from the pile.

Demo brushed a hand across his own face. “I hope Medic brings enough pens.”

“I’ll go for mine,” Engie said. He added, “And I’ll go look for Pyro; they’ll love this.”

Scout groaned. “Anyone else? Maybe Saxton Hale?”

Spy’s laughter can be heard from a corner of the room.

“Oh, this is priceless. I wasn’t going to butt in, but this looks like too much fun to pass on the opportunity.”

“The opportunity to what?” Scout said, miffed.

“You’ll see,” he said with a glint in his eyes. “Besides, you need a referee, don’t you?”

“Ugh,” Scout said, bonking his head on the table.

-----

Everyone looked at each other from their respective places. Scout’s leg bounced nonstop; Sniper picked unconsciously at his pencil. Heavy’s grip on his pen was strong enough for Medic to worry about it breaking.

“Alright,” said Spy. “You have to draw…” He squinted. “Poopy Joe, following the ad’s instructions; the best artist wins. The rules are: no interfering with anyone’s drawing. No kicking under the table. No destroying anyone’s drawing. No rising up from the table until all this is over. No showing your drawing until everyone is finished. Understood?”

Everyone nodded. Pyro hummed happily.

“Excellent. So, on the count of three: One, two… Three!”

Scout’s pen tore onto the paper. “Shit! Do you have a spare?” Spy handed him one. “Thanks,” he muttered.

The truth was, Scout wasn’t that confident of the fact he was going to win. When it was just him and Demo, he’d been sure he’d win to the unsteady hand of a drunk man. And Sniper was all bragging anyways. But Medic? He’d probably drawn lots of skeletons and stuff at college. And Engineer’s schematics always look exactly like the finished product. Shit. And—did Soldier really paint with Kickasso? Nah, he shook his head. He didn’t think so. Heavy was a wild card, though.

But he had to try anyway! He couldn’t back off now. So he put his all into it.

Engineer turned his sheet of paper down. Hell! That was fast. He tried to concentrate in the lines that formed Poopy Joe, and emulated them the best he could. Damn, his hand was sweaty… He hated drawing. His cousin had always been better at it, and it pissed him off even now, far from home.

He slapped his drawing on the table, face down. “Done!” He looked up to see everyone had finished. Crap.

“Alright, then,” said Spy. “Let’s see what you came up with.”

“Come up with?” That had many meanings, but the way Spy said it… “What do you mean?”

“The challenge was to improve on the design of Poopy Joe drawn by the artist, not to copy it.”

“Oh, darn,” Engineer said, showing a perfect copy of the Poopy Joe logo. Holy shit. “Guess I got a bit carried away. I’m more used to copying stuff, ya know.”

Soldier snickered.

“Let’s see what you did, Soldier boy.”

“Alright! Look at it and weep!”

He showed them all a mess of lines with dots in seemingly random places.

“Soldier, that’s…” Scout got elbowed by Demo. “That’s cool. What are… those?”

“Those are his eyes!” Oh, God.

“Let’s see Demo’s!” grinned Soldier, confidently.

“Ach, you know I’m no artist, mate,” he said, showing his drawing. It was… Actually, it was pretty decent. His drawing had a cartoonish style that drew everyone’s eyes in.

“Interesting,” said Spy, nodding approvingly.

“Demo did great job,” Heavy said, crossing his arms.

“Aw, thanks, mate.” Demo shrugged it off, somewhat flustered. “What about yours?”

Heavy showed his drawing. It was simple, a single line delineating the silhouette of the monkey astronaut. It was stylish, though it was difficult to guess what it was at times.

“Wonderful, mein freund!” Medic clapped, and revealed his. It was… Oh, my god. “I might have put a bit too much emphasis on his organs.”

“Next!” yelled Scout, tearing his eyes away from the gory drawing. Shit. Now he had to show his. Alright. You can do this, he told himself.

He turned the page face up.

“Mate,” Sniper said.

“Oh, buddy, we made the same mistake.”

“Y’know? I saw RED’s Scout draw once and I secretly thought we were doomed.”

“Oh, shut up!” Scout said, face beet red. It was true, he’d tried to copy the drawing, like Engineer did. And his lines weren’t as sure as Demo’s or Heavy’s. Shit. He screwed up big time.

“It’s good overall, mate,” Sniper said. “You just need more confidence.”

Scout flushed. “What about yours, Mister Expert?”

Sniper grunted, and showed his drawing. Oh, wow. It was really good! The monkey looked like it’d come out of the page and tear them apart. He felt as if he would be able to touch its fur.

“Wow, Slim! That’s one helluva good drawing!”

“Thanks,” he said, grinning. “I told ya: quiet kid.”

“Where is his spacesuit, though?”

His face dropped. “Aw, hell.”

“Hmmmph!” Pyro yelled, pointing at their sheet of paper.

“Alright,” Spy said, grinning along with Engineer. “The moment of truth has come.”

“What do you mean—?”

Holy shit.

The drawing was astounding. The monkey looked cartoonish enough not to look real, but in a way that made the drawing look alive. Everything was there, and in wonderful detail: The space-suit, the stars… Even an additional full moon in the background that was a perfect circle.

“Holy shit, Py!” Scout said. “How did you do that?”

“Hhmph?” Pyro asked, pointing at the moon. Everyone nodded. Pyro mumbled happily, grabbing another sheet of paper, and drew a classical Greek style face, then erased the rest of its features little by little until they got a perfect circle.

Oh, for the love of—

“Well, it seems we have our winner,” said Spy, handing Pyro the magazine. Pyro clapped with glee, running off with it.

“Aw, man. That was totally unfair. You knew this would happen!” Scout pointed to Spy accusingly.

“I had my suspicions,” he said, grinning.

“Hey, maggots,” Soldier said, sniffing. “Is that smoke?”

They all turned around to watch Pyro as they set the magazine on fire.

“Ach! My magazine!” Demo ran and stomped on it. However, many of the pages, including the drawing contest ad, didn’t make it. “Hell. Why, mate?”

“Hmmphmmphmmph!” they said, pointing at everyone in the room, then at their drawings. Then they clapped.

Everyone looked at each other, and found a common understanding. Who knew what Pyro said? But they had the feeling they meant they were all winners today.

“So it was a huge waste of everyone’s time. Fantastic,” Spy said. “Entertaining, though.”

“Shut up, Spy, we were having a moment,” Scout said.

And yes, indeed. Because even though Demo lost his magazine, he left the room with a good feeling inside. And he was sure that the rest felt the same way.

Poopy Joe’s artist could keep his job for another day.

[lizallanapologist]

The problematic behavior of Tomdaya stans; a thread

Some of you might not be aware of the stalkerish problematic stuff tomdaya stans have done with Tom and Zendaya’s life but it’s gotten to the point where Tom’s own brothers protect with big scrutiny every single female in Tom’s life because they fear they’re going to get bullied or harassed. This is not OK and this has to stop so we’re exposing their toxic behavior. 

This is only to bring awareness and we do not condom any hate or death threats, don’t send hate to tomdaya accounts, either block them or report them but don’t bully them. Many of them might need professional help dealing with the fact that Tom and Z are not together due to the fact that they created an illusion in their heads for a long time but that doesn’t mean some of them aren’t plenty manipulative and love to get away with bullying and harassment. 

If you don’t know, Tom was recently seen with another woman on his instagram, not going to say the name and please don’t try to find out about her, the relevant information is in this post and all of the private information regarding her is being protected for the same reasons. Many stans decided to apply the same treatment to her as they did to Olivia. If you don’t know what happened last year, all information is here. The fact that this kind of bullying and harassment got overlooked is horrifying. 

This specific behavior doesn’t apply to all of the stans but the vast majority is on the same page. 

A big thanks to all the blogs who contributed with information and their writing in this post.

STALKING 

1. Tomdaya stans have made an entire thread/timeline of events in Tom and Zendaya's life that they manipulated so it can be seen as proof of them dating. They stalk every single part of their lives, from paying stalkerish apps to review their instagram activities daily to having a constant GPS to know their exact locations everyday. They ask twitter accs, owners of restaurants/stores, people close to them information about their whereabouts/the things they buy or eat/who they were with, etc.

They order their ‘’interactions’’ with specific dates and they even know information you shouldn’t know about them. 

They pay for apps that helps them stalk their every move. That’s right, they take every like as proof of them being together. 

They hide behind the pretext that they're celebrities and this is what they've signed up for but neither Tom nor Zendaya have signed up for constant daily harassment of their partners in life. 

HARASSMENT OF PARTNERS

Tom was seen last year with a blonde girl called Olivia, everyone speculated that was his girlfriend and that was something everyone should’ve respected since it’s Tom’s life and he’s in control of it, instead, many fans including Tom H. crazy fans and tomdaya stans, decided to stalk and harass Olivia to the point she had to make her account private. They started bullying her by publicly calling her names like ‘’Olive Oil’’, ‘’Ugly old woman’’, ‘’Ugly fake bitch’’ among other names. They continuously compare her with Zendaya and write on her friends and family members’ social media and ask them to tell Olivia nasty things. You really think this is ok? 

Same is happening with the girl Tom was seen with. Tom’s own brothers asked several people to take down and delete the video because they were disrupting her privacy. Many stans didn’t care and started all over again harassing the girl. (I’m not posting images or the identity of this new girl in hopes that this helps maintain a little big of privacy for her.) 

However here are some examples of them harassing Olivia:

’’I saw a troubling post on twitter about this fan dming another fan saying that they’d kill her (Olivia). That they’d find a way. So that “the fans can have him all to ourselves” - source

MANIPULATING THE NARRATIVE

Tomdaya stans and some Tom Holland crazy stans love to harass Tom Holland to the point that they tag family members and friends only because he decided to go out in public with Olivia. They call him cheater, manipulator, a dumbass, made fun of him because Tom is dyslexic calling him an illiterate, mocked him and tried to cancel him in every opportunity given by manipulating everyone into thinking some of these ‘’facts’’ are true. 

Many fans don’t know better and go to social media to frame Tom as a scumbag because many tomdaya stans have convinced the public of this.

This same issue occurs with Zendaya. Her known boyfriend; Jacob Elordi, is frequently called a cheater and is being investigated every five seconds on every social media, candid, interaction ever. Many fans are already calling him cheater, telling everyone Zendaya’s changed her behavior thanks to Jacob and that she needs help. 

Source

BULLYING

The definition of cyberbullying according to Stopbullying.gov:

“Cyberbullying is bullying that takes place over digital devices like cell phones, computers, and tablets. Cyberbullying can occur through SMS, Text, and apps, or online in social media, forums, or gaming where people can view, participate in, or share content. Cyberbullying includes sending, posting, or sharing negative, harmful, false, or mean content about someone else. It can include sharing personal or private information about someone else causing embarrassment or humiliation. Some cyberbullying crosses the line into unlawful or criminal behavior. “

Examples of cyberbullying on Tumblr from good ole Toutdesuite360:

https://toutdesuite360.tumblr.com/post/190572803098/faces-haha-ive-heard-this-has-been-memed-when

Making fun of Jacob Elordi’s wealth… but that isn’t that only thing that the Tomdaya stans have done.

She basically implied that Olivia looked like an elderly lady, and she permitted her followers to humiliate her.

Funny, that a middle aged woman who has never revealed her face on her blog is bullying a young woman.

(She may have deleted the link to save her a** on the post with the Cher pictures, but thankfully @crazypeopleonfandom​ took screenshots of this post; I got most of my photos from them)

The next aren’t pertaining to the ‘innocent’ Toutdesuite360, just some random jerks from Twitter/Instagram. If you have the time, you can read through them.

See the pictures above and below for reference.

Labelling Zendya, Jacob E., Tom, and Olivia as cheaters, when there was no confirmed relationship between Tom and Z, and Jacob broke up with Cari already is plain disrespectful. These are type of claims are considered slander, and I’m surprised that the people who own these accounts haven’t been rightfully sued.

And remember when I talked about the repetition of people tagging Tom and Z’s family for their ‘thoughts’? Why are you tagging Nikki in your post?

Calling Olivia, once again, a vulgar word that shouldn’t be used for any woman.

This person and many other tomdayas are harassing Zendaya and Tom by tagging them repeatedly. Now we know why Tom stopped using Twitter, and why he may be taking breaks from social media.

And, as pointed out in another point on the thread: Tom has dyslexia! I easily ignore the posts that tease him about his lips, but when it comes to his disability, that crosses the line. It is unacceptable to bully someone just because your fantasy relationship doesn’t seem so real now.

Before I finish this point, I just want to remind people that celebrities are humans too. Everyone has feelings, and even if they haven’t seen these posts, it is still harmful to post this kind of information on your account. Fans who are young (or naive) may see these posts, thus making them believe that Tom actually cheated on Z, and that Z is really with Jacob as ‘payback’ to Tom. Bullying is still an ongoing issue, and maybe you should stop harassing/humiliating people on your platform.

DEATH THREATS

Olivia, Tom and his family, friends, Zendaya, Jacob Elordi, etc. They were sent death threats as a result of a fictional ship. This is truly upsetting and we’ve shown some proof of that above and it’s truly sickening how many of them really want to attack Olivia in public only because of a few photographs. 

DEBUNKING EVIDENCE

While we don’t know anything for sure, we need to trust and respect what Tom and Zendaya have said several times: they were never together and they were just friends. This is a topic that makes them feel uncomfortable and tomdaya stans decide to twist their words every time they want to clarify the situation, saying they’re hiding their relationship and that they’ve been hiding it for over 3 years. 

Stop believing everything SpideyParker on YouTube says, that person desperately wants them together so they’ll do anything in their power to make it seem like that they’re ’’still together’’. All of their evidence is also nothing but scraps. I can also make a video cropping out certain individuals from the frame to make it look like Tom is with someone or I can also investigate every tiny detail to a borderline degree to make it seem like Zendaya is dating someone. It’s really easy to manipulate the truth, so don’t fall for these things so easily. Check with the real sources, Tom and Zendaya. Trust and respect what they say it’s not your job to investigate and figure their lives out.

Their evidence of the relationship is ridiculous, stuff like them wearing the same clothes,

because obviously there’s no way this jacket is in any random store in the world...This is a unique jacket, made by Tom and Z specifically...And it’s not even the same jacket. If we’re going by their logic, then

More, more, more and more.

Source

Robert Downey Jr. and Tom have been in a relationship for a long time...

Angourie, Remy and Tom wearing the same jacket.

I have no idea what’s going on with the freaking necklace you swear with blood that Zendaya gave him but that’s hardly something special:

Matching necklace with Olivia.

Avengers necklace.

He likes necklaces, nothing special here.

'’Tom only goes to Zendaya’s home, and only goes out with her!’’

Tom Holland went to RDJ's house to watch Black Panther with him.

Tom and RDJ facetime daily.

Obviously, his only friend is Zendaya...

Look at him and Zendaya there, wow.

‘‘Tom looks at her with heart eyes and in a very special way!’‘

Excuse me, what is he supposed to do? Ignore Zendaya and look somewhere else every time she talks?  

MORE

He literally looks at everyone the same way.

‘‘He only does Spider-Man because he wants to be the Peter Parker to his Mary Jane, one of the most romantic comic book couples!’‘

I can’t believe I once read this as proof but I haven’t forgotten about it.

Interview with Tom and Laura:

“Is Zendaya’s character Mary Jane Watson?’’

Tom Holland: “No, no! This is one of those rumours, that like, we’ve all said it’s not true.

Laura Harrier: It’s not true!

Tom Holland: Like, we keep on… You guys keep building yourselves up for disappointment.

Laura Harrier: Unless we don’t know how this started? Because you guys are gonna see this movie and be like “…Ugh.” She’s Michelle!

Tom Holland: She’s a character called Michelle.

Laura Harrier: She’s playing Michelle.

Tom Holland: 100%. Hands down. Her character’s called Michelle. And she’s sort of this weird, quirky one in the friendship group that Peter has. She’s funny, but she’s super strange.

Laura Harrier: Yeah, super dry humour.

Tom Holland: She’s 100% not Mary Jane. It’s funny, everyone’s like “Is she Mary Jane?” and I’m like NO, I’M TELLING YOU! SHE’S NOT MARY JANE!

Source

‘‘He did the Will Smith thing with her, he loves her!’‘

‘’He only ever talks about her! He only praises her!’’

Angourie Rice.

Robert Downey Jr, 2, 3

Laura Harrier, 2

Elizabeth Olsen.

Jacob Batalon.

Chris Hemsworth.

Jake Gyllenhaal.

And the list goes on and on.

‘‘He always goes to her special events only! He only goes to her parties! He only goes to hospitals with her! He was on the set of Euphoria with her!’‘

How about, he goes out with her and everyone else in group and individually? He goes out with Harrison alone, with Jacob alone, with Laura alone, etc. I love how many of them love to leave out certain people to make everyone believe it’s only the two of them. And he doesn’t only goes to hospitals with her, he’s gone with many other people and he does it because he’s a good person, not because he’s on a date with Zendaya. 

Tom AND Jacob visit Zendaya on the set of the Greatest Showman.

Tom and friends celebrating Harrison’s birthday party.

Tom on a double date.

Tom going to Joe Russo’s restaurant to get an exclusive cooking lesson from Jessica Largey.

Tom on birthday parties.

Tom, Laura, Harrison and Harry out for dinner in Brazil.

Tom, Brie Larson, Tessa Thompson, and Zachary Levi in a club in Brazil.

Tom, Laura, Jacob, Harrison in a pool party.

RDJ & Tom Holland visit Jon’s restaurant and participate on his show.

Tom Holland visits Doctor Strange’s set.

Tom Holland, Ciara Bravo, Joe Russo visit haunted attraction.

He’s a good person and loves supporting his friends.

‘‘He only has chemistry with her!’‘

Tom and RDJ’s extraordinary chemistry.

Tom and Jake’s chemistry.

Tom and Jacob’s chemistry.

Tom and Laura’s chemistry.

Tom and Daisy’s chemistry.

Tom and Chris Pratt’s chemistry.

Also Will Smith, Chris Hemsworth, etc. 

Look below for Ciara and Tom’s chemistry.

Like I said before, maybe he’s a good actor and that’s it? 

‘‘Their FFH kiss was too real and magical!’‘

Spoiler alert for Cherry

Fan about witnessing Tom’s kiss with Ciara Bravo:

His reaction about kissing Laura Harrier:

‘‘He LOVES touching her’‘

I’m sorry, is he supposed to be scared of touching people?

This is it. This is the big touch they always talk about and the only times they’ve ever held hands is in manips or in FFH, but that doesn’t count, those are fictional characters. Well...

Maybe he’s a touchy person. Consider that.

’’She’s the only one that knows him well!’’

How well do Zendaya, Jacob, & Laura know Tom?

I’m sure Harrison, RDJ, his friends and others know him pretty well too. 

And only because he knows she likes ice cream doesn't mean she’s his ultimate soulmate or something blown out of proportion.

‘‘He’s only a gentleman with her!’‘

Tom saves Gina Rodriguez

Tom rescues fan

Karen Gillan

‘‘He looked way too in love with MJ to be fake’‘

Nope.

Nope 2

Nope 3

It’s called acting, pretty sure you guys know by now he’s good.

‘’They’re inseparable!’‘

Jacob, Tom and Harrison 

Also, why is it that every female in his life is his cousin, aunt, close childhood friend or ‘’he probably hates her’’ for you? 

They’ve said this multiple times but:

In an interview with Elle, Tom said he is not involved with anyone at the moment but is "definitely a relationship person." And when addressing the rumors, he says it’s uncomfortable and annoying when people ship him and Zendaya together. 

Zendaya also denied the claims, telling Variety Magazine that she and Tom were simply ‘just friends’. 

You can ship them if you want, as a bromance or cute chemistry, but not at the expense of someone else. Not when you violate their privacy, their lives and specially not when you bully, harass and stalk every detail of their lives.

Zendaya is clearly very happy with Jacob Elordi:

Let her have that. No, she doesn’t look miserable with him, no, he didn’t change her style or her personality. No, she doesn’t dress differently because of him. She is the same as always, she looks even happier. Let her be. This is good for her. She has every right to go out in public with her boyfriend. And for the love of god, stop commenting on her instagram posts ‘’warning’’ her that Jacob is going to cheat on her. Hopefully that won’t happen ever. 

And no, they’re not going to magically ’’get back together’’ when Spider-Man 3 starts filming, stop wishing bad luck on Zendaya and Jacob’s relationship. Tom is not going to magically realize how ‘’wrong’’ he was for ‘’leaving’’ Zendaya. He never left her, he’s her friend. 

All of this have gotten to the point where Tom can’t have a friendship with a female and he has to ‘’protect’’ them every time he wants to interact with them. Do you guys seriously think this is ok? Are you really a fan of his if this is how you want him to live? Controlling him all the time? 

Do you realize how wrong and unfair it is for the other partner every time you comment in every single picture on instagram, twitter, etc about how ‘’cute’’ Tom and Zendaya are? About how ‘’ugly’’ Olivia is? How about when you compare Zendaya and Olivia, or every single female in Tom’s life? Or when you comment on Zendaya’s instagram telling her she is different now and that you don’t like her now because she’s changed for Jacob? Telling her that Jacob is going to cheat on her? Stop sending death threats to the partners, stop tagging their families in your ‘’evidence/proof’’ posts/tweets. Just because they don’t voice these things doesn’t mean they don’t read them. 

Being sincere, if you all, as a collective; really, genuinely cared about Tom, this is the last thing you would wanna pull. In your endless obsession with thinking you have a right to dictate the life of a man simply because he's famous; actually stopped once to consider how this is possibly making Tom and Zendaya feel?? You are basically sending the message that nobody is enough, that him being happy isn't enough, that he won't ever be allowed to be happy until he gets with the person YOU think is best for him. Fucking abhorrent, how they don't have a choice on who they choose to fucking love. This is how you make a celebrity jaded. THIS is how you make a celebrity hate you. And he will, unless you stop your bullshit, and treat him; and whoever he decides to be with, like human beings.

When you focus only on two people it’s easy to believe anything, try and see the bigger picture. Allow Zendaya and Tom to enjoy their lives without harassing them and their partners.