#Ones that I’ve read excerpts from but never read all the way through—

[dailyrothko]

No, the Popularity of Abstract Art is Not the Result of a CIA PsyOp

If you are unlucky enough to move around the internet these days and talk about art, you’ll find that many “First commenters” will hit you with what they see as some hard truth about your taste in art. Comments usually start with how modern art is “money laundering” always comically misunderstanding what that means. What they are saying is that, of course, rich people use investments as tax shelters and things like expensive antiques and art appraised at high prices to increase their net worth. Oh my god, I’ve been red-pilled. The rich getting richer? I have never heard of such a thing.

What is conveniently left out of this type of comment is that the same valuation and financial shenanigans occur with baseball cards, wine, vacation homes, guitars, and dozens of other things. It does indeed happen with art, but even the kind that the most conservative internet curator can appreciate. After all, Rembrandts are worth money too, you just don’t see many because he’s not making any more of them. The only appropriate response to these people who are, almost inevitably themselves, the worst artists you have ever seen, is silence. It would cruel to ask about their own art because there’s a danger they might actually enjoy such a truly novel experience.

When you are done shaking your head that you just subjected yourself to an argument about the venality of poor artists plotting to make their work valuable after they died, you can certainly then enjoy the accompanying felicity of the revelation they have saved to knock you off your feet: “Abstract art is a CIA PsyOp”

Here one must get ready either to type a lot or to simply say “Except factually” and go along your merry, abstract-art-loving way. But what are the facts? Unsurprisingly with things involving US government covert operations, the facts are not so clear.

Like everything on the internet, you are unlikely to find factual roots to the arguments about government conspiracies and modern art. The mere idea of it is enough to bring blossom for the “I’m not a sheep” crowd, some of whom believe that a gold toilet owning former president is a morally good, honest hard-working man of the people.

The roots of this contention come from a 1973 article in Artforum magazine, where art critic Max Kozloff wrote about post-war American painting in the context of the Cold War, centering around Irving Sandler’s book, The Triumph of American Painting (1970). Kozloff takes on more than just abstract expressionism in his article but condemns the “Self-congratulatory mood”of Sandler’s book and goes on to suggest the rise of abstract expressionism was a “Benevolent form of propaganda”. Kozoloff treads a difficult line here, asserting that abstraction was genuinely important to American art but that its luminaries, “have acquired their present blue-chip status partly through elements in their work that affirm our most recognizable norms and mores.”

While there were rumblings of agreements around Kozloff’s article of broad concerns, it did not give birth to an actual conspiracy theory at the time. The real public apprehension of this idea seems to mostly come from articles written by historian Frances Stonor Saunders in support of her book, “The Cultural Cold War: The CIA and the World of Arts and Letters” (New York, New Press, 2000). (I have not read this 525 page book, only excerpts).

The gist of Ms. Saunders argument is a tantalizing, but mostly unsupported, labyrinthine maze of back door funding and novelistic cloak and dagger deals. According to Saunders, the Congress for Cultural Freedom (CCF), an anti-communist cultural organization founded in 1950, was behind the promotion of Abstract art as part of their effort to be opinion makers in the war against communism. In 1966 it was revealed that the CCF was funded by the CIA. Saunders says that the CCF financed a litany of art exhibitions including “The New American Painting” which toured Europe in the late 1950s. Some of this is true, but it’s difficult, if not impossible, to know the specifics.

Noted expert in abstract-expressionism, David Anfam said CIA presence was real. It was “a well-documented fact” that the CIA co-opted Abstract Expressionism in their propaganda war against Russia. “Even The New American Painting [exhibition] had some CIA funding behind it,” he says. But the reasons for this are not quite what the abstract art detractors might be looking for. After all, the CCF also funded the travel expenses for the Boston Symphony Orchestra and promoted Fodor’s travel guides. More than trying to pull the wool over anyone’s eyes, it was meant to showcase the freedom artists in the US. enjoyed. Or as Anfam goes on to say, “It’s a very shrewd and cynical strategy, because it showed that you could do whatever you liked in America.”

For what it’s worth, Saunders’s book was eviscerated in the Summer 2000 issue of Art Forum at the time of its publication. Robert Simon wrote:

“Saunders draws extensively on primary and secondary sources, focusing on the convoluted money trail as it twists through dummy corporations, front men, anonymous donors, and phony fund-raising events aimed at filling the CCF’s coffers. She makes lengthy forays into such topics as McCarthyism, the formation and operation of the CIA, the propaganda work of the Hollywood film industry, and New York cultural politics—from Partisan Review to MoMA to Abstract Expressionism. Yet what seems strangely absent from Saunders’s panoramic history, as if it were a minor detail or something too obvious to require discussion, is the cultural object itself: The complex specifics of the texts, exhibitions, intellectual gatherings, paintings, and performances of the culture war are largely left out of the story.”

Another problem with the book seems to be that Saunders is an historian but not an art historian. For me, I sensed an overtone of superiority in the tale she’s spinning and most assuredly from those that repeat its conclusion. The thinly veiled message of some is that if it were “Real art” it would not have had be part of this government subterfuge. The reality is very different. For one thing, most of us know it is simply not true that you can make people devoted to a type of art for 100 years that they would sensibly hate otherwise. Another issue is that it’s quite obvious none of the artists actually knew about any government interference if there was any. Pollock, Rothko, Gottlieb and Newmann were all either communists or anarchists. Hardly the group one would recruit the help the US government free the world of communism. Additionally, this narrow cold war timeline ignores a huge amount of abstract art that Jackson Pollock haters also revile and consider part of the same hijacking of high (Frankly, Greek, Roman, or Renaissance) culture. If you look at the highly abstract signature work of Piet Mondrian and observe the dates they were painted, you’ll see 1908, 1914, 1916. This is some of the art denigrated as a CIA PsyOP, 35 years before the CIA even thought about it. Modern art didn’t come from nowhere as many would have you believe to discredit its rise. There was Surrealism, Dada, Bauhaus, Russian futurism and a host of other movements that fueled it.

Generally, people like to argue. On the internet, “I don’t like this” is a weak statement that always must be replaced by “This is garbage” or my favorite, “This is fake.”

It’s hardly surprising that the more conservative factions of our society look for any government involvement in our lives to explain why things are not exactly as they wish them to be, given the (highly ironic) conservative government-blaming that blew up after Reagan. In addition, modern fascists have always had a love affair with the classical fantasy of Greece and Rome. Both Mussolini and Hitler used Greece and Rome as “Distant models” to address their uncertain national identity. The Nazis confiscated more than 5,000 works in German museums, presenting 650 of them in the Entartete Kunst (Degenerate Art, 1937) show to demonstrate the perverted nature of modern art. It featured artists including Marc Chagall, Max Ernst, Wassily Kandinsky, and Paul Klee, among others. The fear of art was real. It was the fear of ideas.

To a lot of people on the internet just the mentioning a “CIA program” is enough to get the cogs turning, but as with many things, the reality of CIA programs and government plots is often less than evidence of well planned coup.

The CIA reportedly spent 20 millions dollars on Operation Acoustic Kitty which intended to use cats to spy on the Kremlin and Soviet embassies. Microphones were planted on cats and plans were set in motion to get the cats to surreptitiously record important conversations. However, the CIA soon discovered that they were cats and not agreeable to any kind of regulation of their behavior.

As part of Operation Mongoose the CIA planned to undermine Castro's public image by putting thallium salts in his shoes, which would cause his beard to fall out, while he was on a trip outside Cuba. He was expected to leave his shoes outside his hotel room to be polished, at which point the salts would be administered. The plan was abandoned because Castro canceled the trip.

Regardless of your feelings on this subject or how much you believe abstract art benefited from government dollars, Saunders herself quotes in her book a CIA officer apparently involved in these “Long leash” influence operations. He says, “We wanted to unite all the people who were writers, who were musicians, who were artists, to demonstrate that the West and the United States was devoted to freedom of expression and to intellectual achievement, without any rigid barriers as to what you must write, and what you must say, and what you must do.” Hardly the Illuminati plot we were promised.

In 2016, Irving Sandler, author of the book that started Kozloff tirading in 1973, told Alastair Sooke of The Daily Telegraph, “There was absolutely no involvement of any government agency. I haven’t seen a single fact that indicates there was this kind of collusion. Surely, by now, something – anything – would have emerged. And isn’t it interesting that the federal government at the time considered Abstract Expressionism a Communist plot to undermine American society?”

This blog post contains information and quotes sourced from The Piper Played to Us All: Orchestrating the Cultural Cold War in the USA, Europe, and Latin America, Russell H. Bartley International Journal of Politics, Culture, and Society, Vol. 14, No. 3 (Spring, 2001), pp. 571-619 (49 pages) https://www.bbc.com/culture/article/20161004-was-modern-art-a-weapon-of-the-cia https://brill.com/view/journals/fasc/8/2/article-p127_127.xml?language=en https://www.guggenheim-bilbao.eus/en/learn/schools/teachers-guides/the-dark-side-of-classicism https://www.artforum.com/features/american-painting-during-the-cold-war-212902/ https://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/modern-art-was-cia-weapon-1578808.html https://www.artforum.com/columns/frances-stonor-saunders-162391/ https://www.artforum.com/features/abstract-expressionism-weapon-of-the-cold-war-214234/ Mark Rothko and the Development of American Modernism 1938-1948 Jonathan Harris, Oxford Art Journal, Vol. 11, No. 1 (1988), pp. 40-50 (11 pages)

[waxingrunes]

Ghostface Thriller

This was supposed to be my original fully fleshed out Halloween gig but I changed my mind at the eleventh hour to something else. I only have these very rough shallow sketches to offer that started the whole thing. Read on for a little texting excerpt of their conversation from this moment.

And for one single (quite tame?) Ao3 continuation.

Sirius: you know, this whole conversation is just proving more and more disappointing ghostie

Ghost: Why’s that.

Sirius: well

Sirius: the more you talk the more you

Sirius: this is gonna sound weird but you know when you can grow attracted to the way someone sounds without ever seeing their face? the way they hold themselves like through the screen, the way they talj

Sirius: talk*

Ghost: Are you about to tell me you’re crushing on me, pretty?

Sirius: i mean

Sirius: im telling you i think the way you talk is attractive and despite the damning circumstances you’re actually kinda smart

Sirius: you have to be to get away with the sick shit you do :)

Ghost: Mm, nobody’s made me blush before.

Sirius: me calling you a sick shit made you blush?

Ghost: And sent a jolt straight to my c*** little pretty.

Sirius: romantic

Ghost: Struggling to understand what’s disappointing about any of this.

Sirius: oh right

Sirius: well it’s just you sound hot but obviously you’re not actually you know

Sirius: hot

A moment passes where Sirius swaps the phone between one clammy palm to the other, doubting his turn of phrase with the radio silence that’d been dealt.

Staring at the bottom of the screen he waited another whole minute for the three dots to appear, which was excellent restraint in his books, before huffing out a breath through his nose and yielding.

Sirius: no ten wears a mask

Sirius: if you were as attractive as your fancy words make you sound you’d make it known

Ghost: You’re trying to unmask me through the phone and here I was thinking I was the pervert.

Sirius: doesn’t pretty get at least one photo

Sirius: of something? anything? to aid my crush :(

Ghost: Ask nicely.

Sirius readjusted, looking up to the ceiling as if he was going to find some sort of resolve there. What wasn’t yet clear, was whether it was the weight of the situation that was getting to his head and making his tummy swoop with this roleplay he’d voluntarily landed himself in, or, he really had a fucking crush.

Wetting his lips, he swallowed and was already blindly tapping out his response before his eyes fell to it again.

Sirius: please ghostie

Moments passed. Deadweight moments where Sirius convinced himself his shadow was moving on its own accord. In reality it was a handful of seconds but it felt like minutes, ticking by with the faint feeling of something hot dripping down the back of his throat.

Ghost: I don’t make a habit of sending selfies to my toys.

Sirius stared at the photo. It was his time to go quiet now, for reasons he planned to take to the grave; an event which may end up closing in sooner than anticipated if he plays his cards wrong.

Ghost: Tick-Tock, pretty. What you looking at?

The bastard.

Sirius: not much apparently

Sirius: i mean nothing i haven’t seen before apart from your legs

Sirius: never seen those out before

Ghost: You a leg man?

Against his will, Sirius giggled. Flushed in an instance from shame and shock and the feeling of very sudden self-awareness, but still had to swallow the tail end of it.

Sirius: am i going to get anything else more

Sirius: motivating

Sirius: i’ve been good all week and followed your orders

Sirius: i haven’t argued

Ghost: Oh, pretty. Come on now.

Sirius: okay but

Sirius: wouldn’t you get bored if i made it easy

Ghost: Clever boy.

Sirius squeezed his legs together, sinking further into the cushions.

Sirius: then reward me

Sirius: please

Sirius: please please please

Ghost: You’ll get what you want soon, but for now…

Another picture came through and for a sharp second, Sirius hesitated. It wouldn’t be his face, surely. He knew that and yet the moment felt pivotal either way as he hovered his thumb over the attachment and tried levelling his rattling heart.

He opened it, simultaneously losing feeling in his fingers and gaining it elsewhere.

Ghost: I wasn’t kidding about that jolt, not that hard yet but you’re doing a good job pretty.

Picture no.2

[toorumlk]

Hi I'm so freaking obsessed with your twitter.

Also what's your favorite Romione moment in the books and why?

ohohoho thank you, friend, i’m quite proud of some of the stuff i’ve posted on there B)

and as for my favourite romione moment in the books, when i read the question i first blanked out for a couple minutes, thinking of a bunch of smaller, sillier scenes. but then i remembered that i do have a favourite and it’s from chapter 11 of DH, when remus visited the trio at grimmauld place and filled them in on he goings on of the war -including the implementation of the muggle-born registry. ron’s response upon hearing this (after his immediate outrage) was

and it’s not just the hand holding and the “‘you won’t have a choice’ said Ron fiercely” that played out so vividly in my head like this:

but this scene demonstrates so perfectly the political weight of this pairing (muggleborn/blood traitor) which i think is the immovable narrative foundation of romione. all of their silly moments and idiosyncrasies aside, there is genuine narrative purpose behind this love. ron has always had an astute understanding of the blood supremacist politics of the wizarding world (need i remind that he was ready to curse shitco at the ripe age of 12 for calling hermione the in-universe slur) and just how wrong it is. ron is a pure-blood wizard and by design has so much privilege in this society bc of it, but by virtue of having parents like arthur and molly, he’s grown up knowing the importance of fighting against blood supremacist ideology. always.

so, after hearing about the completely horrifying muggleborn registry ("People won't let this happen," said Ron. "It is happening, Ron," said Lupin.), he immediately turns to his muggleborn best friend and love of his life and says “i’m making you a family member, i’m going to use the protection my family-name has and use it to protect you from the awful injustice of our situation, no you won’t have a choice but to let me help you”

i remember having such a… visceral reaction while reading this scene like holy shit .. these kids, THESE KIDS!!!!! this is the bone-marrow-deep love that makes me feel insane. this dynamic of the blood traitor/muggleborn always there, from CoS all the way to the epilogue. We get to see that romione is the story’s pure blood/muggleborn that finally made it (rip jily and tedromeda :(). we see it in hermione keeping her muggle last name after they get married (oh my god these two actually got married) and we also see it in the hyphenated Granger-Weasley (granger being first!) in their kids’ last names (oh my gof these two had TWO kids). they are a true symbol of change and progress in their world.

also this is one of those moments where i’m so glad that our only window to romiones relationship development is through harry’s narration because it so brilliantly shows the readers this blossoming love story instead of just telling us about it because harry obviously doesn’t have access to the inner thoughts of his two best friends, he can only witness them fall deeper in love. showing the audience acts of love is always more powerful and my god is this an act of showing your love to your beloved.

(and not to go on an unrelated tangent, but this is exactly why i could never ship my girl hermione w any DE or DE-adjacent character. no fucking way. not when the concept of a muggle-born registry exists in this universe, not when the antagonists in this story wish to eradicate people like her from their society. idk about the rest of y’all but im going to keep taking the narrative seriously bc the worldbuilding obviously has real world ties/implications and i like engaging with the canon. tangently to the tangent, i saw someone (a ron basher) on twitter say that ron, OUR RON FROM THE ABOVE EXCERPT, was “one bad day away from becoming a death eater” ohhhh ohhh i ought to beat you with sticks bc HUH? this is the same kid who said he would’ve boarded the train back to kings cross if he got sorted to slytherin, the house notorious for birthing DEs, at the tender age of 11)

anyways, all this to say is that romione is incredibly, realistically, materially romantic and i love them and i love their love <3

[estrellami-1]

Keep You Company

So this happened because 1) I was babysitting and the little girl wouldn’t sleep until I laid in bed with her and my heart has NEVER been more full and 2) my dad’s an audio engineer with a home studio and my mom will just???? Sit in there with him????? He’s got a couch for when clients come over but 90% of the time if I can’t find either of my parents they’re both in there. I love my mom but I swear she’s tone deaf. Not to mention if any of you have heard someone else work on pitch correction you KNOW how annoying it can get after roughly .3 seconds. But she sits in there completely content because they just???? Want to be near each other????? After close to 30 years of marriage????? Where can I find someone who loves me the way my parents love each other. And the way Steve and Eddie love each other. Please.

Also side note if any of yall read Little Love I’m tempted to make this a future excerpt 👀 different name bc who knows if anything’s gonna come of this. and Joanie’s name comes from Joan Jett anyone who got that gets a gold star ⭐️ also Joanie is either 4 or 6. Idk which. But she’s one of those ages. Which if you know anything about kids you know there’s somehow no difference and yet every difference in the world between those two ages.

“Night, Daddy,” Joanie says, moving into Eddie’s studio to drop a kiss onto his cheek. “Love you.”

Eddie startles away from the computer screen, blinking as he realizes just how late it already is. The clock on his desk blinks 9:08 in red, incriminating flashes.

He smiles at his daughter and throws his arms around her as he stands, hugging her to himself and whirling them around the space, careful around the low coffee table. “Goodnight, my little rockstar!” He crows, peppering kisses to her cheeks and forehead, feeling laughter bubble up inside him in response to Joanie’s giggles.

“Daddy!” She shrieks, but doesn’t try to pull away. He laughs and finally puts her down, pressing one last kiss to the crown of her head as he kneels in front of her.

“Night, Joanie-bug,” he murmurs. “Sorry I’ve been stuck in here all day. I wish I could just play with you all day instead.”

He boops her nose and she giggles. “What are you doing?”

Eddie hums and picks her up, moving closer to the computer to save his project. “Well, y’know how Daddy’s in a band?”

“Yuh-huh.”

“Well sometimes, Uncle Gareth gets a note wrong.”

Joanie giggles. “Only Uncle Gareth?”

“Only Uncle Gareth,” Eddie agrees in a super-serious way that they both know he doesn’t mean.

“And sometimes Daddy forgets how not to be a perfectionist,” Steve adds from the doorway with a smile.

“Also very true,” Eddie nods, putting his computer to sleep. “But I did a lot of work today, so hopefully I should be done soon. How about for now, I do bedtime clean-up routine, and Papa can read you your book?”

“M’kay,” Joanie says happily, because she’s a heathen and prefers Steve’s storytelling skills over Eddie’s. Eddie wants to bite her cheeks, she’s so cute, so he does, takes a big chomp and makes a dinosaur noise that has Joanie shrieking and laughing.

“Okay, munchkin,” he says, swinging her around onto his back and trotting through the house, purposely jostling her. “Beddy-bye time, which means it’s time for teeth brushing!”

“Can you sing the song?”

Eddie fights back a groan. Somehow, he’d forgotten this was coming. “Sure thing, Joanie. Let’s get some toothpaste on that brush, alright?”

They do, and Joanie looks at him expectantly. “Sing it, Daddy! Sing it!”

“Brush your teeth, up and down. Brush your teeth, ‘round and ‘round. Brush your teeth from left to right, brush your teeth in the morning and night.”

He goes through the entire song, helpless to the smile that grows as Joanie bops happily along to his singing. “Okay, baby bug,” he says finally, standing behind her with a brush. “How d’you want your hair tonight?”

Regardless of the rat’s nest it will be in the morning, Joanie refuses to sleep if her hair is at all in her face. Steve and Eddie started with simple braids until she discovered the magic of YouTube tutorials, which makes the bedtime routine both longer and less mundane.

“Two Elsa braids,” she says, resolutely not learning the proper name and instead using the one Eddie had jokingly said once.

“Two Elsa braids, coming up,” he says, because it’s cute and he’s not going to dissuade her.

“Can we do beads?”

“Beads are a daytime hairstyle, ‘member, munchkin?”

Joanie pouts at him in the mirror. “But they’re pretty!”

“They are pretty, but they won’t stay while you sleep. They’ll fall out, and then you’ll wake up in the middle of the night ‘cause you’re laying on beads, and you’ll wake us up, and then we’ll all be cranky.” Not that that exact thing had happened.

She narrows her eyes at him, trying to find a way around it, then finally huffs and agrees. “Okay.”

“You’ll look pretty even without the beads,” Eddie promises her. “And Elsa doesn’t have beads, remember?”

“Yeah, but Daddy, Elsa’s got magic powers!”

“That she does.”

Joanie pretends to shoot Eddie with her Elsa powers, and Eddie freezes in the middle of the first braid. “I can’t move,” he says, not moving his lips. “You froze me!”

Joanie giggles. “Unfreeze, Daddy!”

He dramatically relaxes and sighs. “Oh, good! Thank you!”

He finishes doing her hair and chases her into her room, where she picks out her pajamas: a pink shirt with ballet-dancing kittens, and a neon-green pair of leggings. “Bold choice,” Eddie comments. “You wanna do it yourself? Or do you want me to help you?”

“I wanna do it,” Joanie says, just like Eddie knew she would.

A few minutes later, she huffs, frustrated. “Daddy, help,” she asks, just like Eddie knew she would.

He helps rescue her from her shirt that had somehow become sentient long enough to wrap around her head, then gets her pants on and tucks her into bed before pressing a long, loud kiss to her forehead. “Nighty-night, Joanie-bug,” he murmurs. “Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

Joanie giggles. “Only Joanie-bugs allowed in my bed!” She declares, and Eddie chuckles. “That’s right.”

He moves toward the door where Steve’s waiting to press a kiss to his husband’s forehead. “Sorry I was so busy.”

“You were working,” Steve murmurs. “It’s fine. I’ll come join you when I’m done, m’kay?”

“I’m gonna be in the studio for at least another hour tonight, babe,” Eddie says apologetically.

“Then I guess I’ll come keep you company.” He presses a quick kiss to Eddie’s lips before shoving him out the door. “Go work, I’ll be there in a bit.”

“Sir yes sir,” Eddie salutes, marching back to his studio.

The next time he surfaces, it’s to a tugging at his sleeve. He blinks, glances at the clock—10:37—and turns, ready to apologize to Steve, only to see Joanie.

A quick look reveals no Steve anywhere in the studio, so Eddie thinks he’s probably in bed. “Hey, munchkin,” he murmurs, picking her up and setting her in his lap. “We put you to bed an hour ago, what’s going on? Bad dream?”

Joanie shakes her head before resting it on Eddie’s shoulder. “Papa’s snoring.”

Eddie blinks. Steve does snore, but not loud enough she should be able to hear it from her room. “Oh,” he says quietly. “Did he fall asleep before finishing the story?”

Joanie nods against his shoulder, and he sighs as he cuddles her closer, once again saving his project before completely shutting the computer down for the night. “M’kay, Joanie-bug, let’s go get Papa into his own bed.”

“Daddy?” She asks on the way to her room.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Why’s Papa so tired?”

Eddie sighs. “He’s a teacher, sweet pea. He does a lot all day. And he loves his job, but it is very tiring. Then he comes home and cooks, ‘cause he’s better at it than I am. And there’s a lot of stuff that needs to be done around the house.”

Joanie’s quiet for a second. “And me?” She finally asks.

Eddie’s heart stutters painfully. “No, baby,” he murmurs. “Your Papa and I love you, so much, okay?”

“Okay,” Joanie agrees, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I love you too, Daddy.” After a few seconds of thought, she says, “Are there cooking videos on YouTube? Like for hair?”

Eddie blinks. “To learn how to do it? Yeah, I think so.”

Joanie nods. “You should watch those. And cook for Papa.”

Eddie chuckles. “Maybe I will,” he agrees, stopping short in the doorway to smile at the sight in front of him.

The bedside lamp is on and Steve, glasses askew, is halfway on the bed, on top of the covers. The book is open in his lap, hands still holding on to the sides. He is, as Joanie had said, snoring.

Eddie kisses Joanie’s forehead and puts her into bed beside Steve before taking the book from Steve’s lax hands, shutting it and putting it on her bedside table before kissing Steve’s forehead. “Stevie, baby,” he murmurs. “Wake up.”

Steve’s eyebrows scrunch and his eyes flutter beneath his closed lids before he takes an extra-deep breath and his eyes open. “Eds?” He murmurs. “What’s wrong?”

“You’ve gotta get up,” Eddie murmurs. “This isn’t your bed.”

He watches as Steve processes his words then looks around. He sees the confusion morph into understanding when he sees Joan. “Oh,” Steve murmurs. “Sorry, Joanie.”

“‘S okay, Papa,” Joanie answers. “You should go to bed.”

Steve chuckles tiredly and kisses her forehead. “I am, right now,” he promises. “Night, Joanie.”

“Night, Papa. Night, Daddy!”

“Night, Joanie-bug,” Eddie answers, wrapping his arm around Steve’s waist, half as a hug and half to help his husband stay steady.

“Sorry, Eds,” Steve murmurs. “Meant to join you.”

“It’s alright,” Eddie promises. “How about tomorrow I take Joanie out early for breakfast and let you sleep in?”

Steve frowns. “But you have work.”

“I’ve done the majority of it already,” Eddie answers. “You could take her out tomorrow afternoon if you want. Or just have a movie marathon here. I’ll finish up what I have to do. Tomorrow’s Saturday, right? So I’ll finish tomorrow, then Sunday I can make waffles for all of us. How’s that sound?”

Steve hums. “Good, ‘sides the you cooking part of it.”

“Oh, you little shit,” Eddie says delightedly, pressing a kiss to Steve’s temple. “Just you wait, you’ll understand the power of YouTube tutorials.”

Steve chuckles, quiet, tired, but no less full of love. “I can’t wait.”

Permanent Taglist (which I’ve been COMPLETELY terrible at I’m so sorry I promise I’ll try to do better): @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @muricel @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

[dem-obscure-imagines]

Merry Little Christmas

Druig x Reader

Fandom: MCU

Prompt: @the-sunflower-room “can’t stop thinking about druig and have yourself a merry little christmas- so cozy 😭🙏🏻”

Note: This was actually requested last year, I believe, but I’ve always wanted to write it. I’m sorry it took me so long to get around to it, but I hope you like it! Happy Holidays, everyone <3

Warnings: None! Just cozy Christmas celebrations <3

Word Count: 1.6k words

Reader Is: Gender Neutral!

Druig was never one for holidays. He wasn’t a scrooge, per se, but, as an Eternal, the seasons came and went so quickly. Years were mere blinks to a being who was thousands of years old. However, the look on your face as you put the ornaments on the tree made something stir around his heart, he had to admit.

He was sipping cocoa from a mug with a snowman on it, one from your vast collection. Kingo was in the kitchen, mixing up beverages, which was why he sensed a bit of liquor in the chocolatey beverage. It was still good, obviously, but he definitely blamed that for the rosy hue his cheeks had taken on.

Definitely not the cute little reindeer antlers you were wearing. Definitely not the way your laughter sounded from across the room.

All of the Eternals were there. A rare feat, but with the danger defeated, for now at least, it was cause for celebration, a time to be with family. It was your house you were all celebrating in, a large place tucked away in Northern Michigan, which, at this time of year, was absolutely covered in a thick layer of snow, more and more fluffy flakes coming down as the moments passed.

You spent your time as a writer. One of the most prolific of your time, the reviews said. But then again, you did have a thousand year head start on the rest of them.

Druig would never admit to it, but he had read them. All of them, every single one. He’d borrow them from libraries, read excerpts in bookstores, but Makkari had a collection of them, too. She was your most loyal beta reader. Therefore, when one went missing, she always had a pretty decent suspicion of who the culprit was.

And he wasn’t positive, but he was pretty sure most of your love interests shared a certain resemblance with…well, him. He didn’t like the way it stirred around in his chest, the way it made him feel so warm and…hopeful. But then again, he’d never asked you what you felt.

“(Y/N), where are your Christmas records?” Phastos asked, standing over with his husband, Ben, as they dug through a crate of records.

“Oh! I forgot to bring them down, I think. I’ll go grab them. I needed to get the topper anyway.” You stepped down from your stepladder and handed the ornament in your hand to Sprite, who was sitting on the floor under the tree, shaking gifts. Typical.

Druig watched as you left, eyes glued to you. Which was why he didn’t notice when Sersi had joined him, standing right beside him.

He gasped, mug rattled, but not to the point that he spilled any on his sweater. He cursed and looked over at her. “What?”

“You look rather festive, Druig. I thought you didn’t care for holidays.”

“I thought so too…” He muttered into his mug, taking a long sip.

“Right. Well, I think I saw some mistletoe in that box of decorations. I can put it up if you’d like?” She asked, that glimmer in her eyes that she got when she wanted to meddle.

Druig thought on it, as he heard your footsteps coming back down the stairs. He met her eyes and that was all that was needed. She nodded and set across the room, plucking it out of the box, along with a length of fishing line.

“I found it! The Muppets and John Denver!” You said excitedly, presenting another crate of records, this one all Christmas. “And some other stuff.”

“May I?” Phastos asked.

“Yeah, of course.” You handed them over and walked back over to the tub of ornaments, searching for a very special one. It was a large mug of cocoa with eleven marshmallows in it, each one etched with the name of an Eternal. You smiled softly and tucked it into the branches of your artificial tree, curling the fake pine to support its weight.

“Where did you find one with so many slots?” Druig found himself asking as he crossed the room to stand behind you.

“Had it custom made.” You replied, turning to face him.

“It’s beautiful, (Y/N).” Ajak complimented warmly from her seat by the fire.

“Thanks. Thought we needed something like that.”

“What are these?” Sprite asked, digging through the other box and pulling out a stocking with Thena’s name embroidered on it.

“Stockings.”

“You had those made, too?” Ajak asked, getting up to see for herself.

“Well, I did them. The embroidery, at least.” You admitted with a shrug, motioning to the hooks under the mantle. “We can put them up, if you want.”

Makkari nodded and grabbed the stockings, putting them all in one clean row in a blur of red and green. She stood next to Druig, elbowing him and tilting her head towards his stocking, which she’d put on the end.

Right next to yours.

He nearly choked on his cocoa. So did everyone know, then? Sersi, Makkari, who else? Kingo, no doubt.

“You alright there, Druig? Looking flushed.” Ikaris jabbed, that wicked gleam in his eyes.

Alright, then, yeah, it was everyone. Everyone but you, it seemed.

It was as if a stormcloud manifested above his head. He shook his head and stalked off towards the kitchen. He didn’t know much, but he did know a cookie would make him feel better. Snacks always seemed to. And there was no shortage of them, especially now, when you and Gilgamesh had baked nearly twelve dozen batches of them. Gingerbread, snickerdoodle, sugar cookies shaped like trees, chocolate chip, oatmeal no-bakes.

He reached for a sprinkle-covered tree and bit off the tip of it, the frosting sweet. The oven started beeping and you rushed in, arming yourself with an oven mitt before reaching in for what he assumed must be one of the last trays. Oatmeal raisin, it looked like.

“Do you need any help?” He asked, staring as you straightened up and brushed the hair out of your face.

“Oh! Thank you, Druig. I’m all set, though. Are they good?”

“Are what—” He looked down at the half-eaten tree in his hand. “Oh, yeah. They’re great.”

“Awesome.” You grinned. “New frosting recipe.”

“Well it’s perfect, whatever it is.” He leaned against the counter, that boyish smirk on his face. He wasn’t sure what came over him, then, but he had to get it out. “It’s great, by the way. That new book of yours.”

“You read it?”

“I read all of your books.” He confessed. “I think this one’s your best.”

Your heart raced as you met his eyes. Surely he knew, right? He had to. That you’d been writing about him for centuries. When he’d left all those years ago, hundreds of years ago, he’d taken a piece of your heart with him, a piece you’d only found in fiction, it seemed.

“Thank you. It…it means a lot to hear you say that.”

“Can’t wait for your next one.” He winked, plucking up a second cookie and leaving the kitchen before his tongue got him in any more trouble than it already had.

***

Later in the night, when almost everyone had gone to sleep, you were up, wrapping presents in front of the fireplace, folding the paper neatly, complete with name tags and perfect little bows.

You’d switched records. It was an older one, the Rat Pack.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas…Let your heart be light…

The words were smooth, glided right out of the speaker. Snow was still coming down in droves. It was good you had nowhere to go, otherwise you’d be snowed in. Well, if your family didn’t have every superpower known to man, you would be anyway. You were glad they were there.

You were glad they were home.

“Can’t sleep?” Druig’s voice startled you from your reverie and you turned around, grateful his present was already wrapped and under the tree.

“Not until I get these wrapped.” You told him.

“Christ, you really do go all out, don’t you?” He chuckled, crossing the room and sitting on the floor beside you, yet another cookie in his hand.

“I think I’d lose my mind if I didn’t. Keeps me…in synch. The routine of a year, you know?”

“Mmm.” He hummed, nodding, face alight in the warm oranges of the flames. “I didn’t see it that way until…recently.”

“Until right now?”

“Yeah, something like that.” He chuckled, watching as you carefully wrapped the last one, taping every edge perfectly and putting a tag on top, printing Sprite’s name with a pen. “What’d you get her?”

“You’ll have to find out tomorrow morning.” You told him, shifting to slide it under the tree with the others. “What did you get her?”

“It’s a surprise.” He grinned as you settled in next to him.

“Is it a surprise to you, too?”

He gasped, offended. “I got presents for everyone!”

“I believe you.”

“Sure you do.” He shook his head, laughing softly. “Say, ehm, (Y/N), I’ve been wondering…”

“Mistletoe!” You gasped, staring straight up at the ceiling where, sure enough, a string of mistletoe hung, glittering in the low light. “Who put that up?”

“Well I’ll be…” He breathed, staring up at it, too, heart racing faster than it had in any battle. “What…do you suppose we do about that?”

“I have a few ideas.” You slowly brought your gaze down, meeting his eyes.

He may have been the telepath, but you could tell the only thing on his mind was you as he leaned in, thick eyelashes fluttering shut as his lips met yours, pink and plush and warm. You kissed back, not leaving a single doubt in his mind that you wanted this, wanted him. Your hand rose to his flushed cheek, holding him close as his arm wound around your waist.

The grandfather clock struck midnight, and he pulled away to rest his forehead on yours, noses flush, eyes on you, glimmering with a million words unspoken. He did have a few, though. “Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”

“Merry Christmas, Druig.”

[irb-pascalito-99]

Let Me Paint You

Pairing: Joel x f!reader

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: After posing for a painting Joel decides he needs to do some painting of his own.

Warnings: oral f!receiving and m!receiving, edging, unprotected p in v sex, riding, sex on a canvas

A/N: This is an excerpt from chapter thirteen of my fic Always an Angel, Never a God. To read more please visit a03.

After dinner we wash the dishes and settle in the living room to pick a movie for the night. Joel is thumbing through our collection of DvDs when a knock sounds on the front door. Both of us freeze, unsure of who could be stopping by right now.

We exchange a look as the visitor knocks again. I go to the door while Joel makes his way up the stairs. I wait until I hear a door close upstairs before I open the one in front of me.

On the front step Maria stands with her hands in her pockets. The evening sun casts an orange glow upon her as it starts to sink in the sky.

“So you are alive,” Maria jests, a smirk spreading across her face. “I’ve been texting you all day. I was trying to see if you wanted to hang out since Ellie is off on that school trip, but I got worried when I didn’t hear anything back. Why haven’t you responded?”

My chest tightens. I haven’t even looked at my phone since I got home last night, abandoning it with my purse and keys in the doorway the second I got home. I try to think of an excuse as to why I couldn’t respond while Maria peers into the house behind me.

“I’ve just been really busy with things today,” I say, fiddling with my fingers. I pull the door closer to me so she can’t see inside. “I’ve been cleaning and painting. Just enjoying the alone time, totally spaced my phone I guess.”

Maria’s eyebrows scrunch together. She tries to look behind me again and then looks back at my face as though she’s trying to decipher whether or not I’m lying.

“So there’s nobody else here?” Maria asks. I try to keep my reaction small so she can’t catch on to anything. “Because normally your car is in the garage but it’s in the driveway now, and you’re acting kind of strange…”

I see my car in the driveway behind her. We had moved it out there to make room fit the truck in the garage. I put a palm to my forehead and feign a reaction as if I’m just now remembering it’s out there.

“I must have forgot to move it back. I was cleaning the garage earlier and had to move it out there.” I can tell Maria doesn’t buy the lie.

I don’t know why I’m trying so hard. Out of anyone Maria is probably the one person I can tell about us, but there’s something I like about hiding it. It’s like in keeping this secret, I keep a piece of Joel for just myself. Keeping it a secret may have started as a way of protecting Ellie, but it feels as though I’m protecting Joel and I as well.

From my experience, love is hardly ever simple or kind. Love is heartbreak, and the outside world can only break what we have. I like our secret, and even though it’s just Maria on my doorstep I will do whatever I can to keep our small piece of the world separate.

“Well, I’m sorry you drove all the way out here but I’m kind of in the groove right now with this painting,” I say.

Maria’s eyes flick up to the stairs. She doesn’t ask any other questions though. She nods, says her goodbyes, and drives away. When her car disappears I close the door again. Joel is silent upstairs.

I go to my bedroom first, expecting him to be laying on my bed or standing by the window, but he isn’t there. I check the bathroom as well. When I find no trace of him I make my way to the art studio.

I find him standing there, observing some artwork stashed away in the closet. His fingers gently brush against the top of the canvases as he moves from one to the other. I tread lightly across the room and brush my hands softly against his back. He jumps at the touch, quickly putting the paintings back in their place.

“You’re being nosy,” I say playfully as I wrap my arms around his chest. He stiffens under my touch, clearly feeling guilty for being caught snooping through my stuff.

“Sorry, saw Maria through the window and then the closet door was open so I was just curious. Figured you’d be talkin’ for a bit.” I peek my head around his shoulder to see what he’s looking at.

The first painting in the stack is a woman in a rowboat with a faint lantern glowing in the distance. I forgot this is where I chose to store my mother’s work. I still have a hard time looking at it.

“Did you do these?” Joel asks. I shake my head.

“Those were my mom’s actually.” I bury my face in Joel’s back, trying to seem as unbothered as possible.

Joel hums in response and looks at the paintings again. I suppose this is Joel’s first interaction with who my mother truly was. He knows she died in the accident. He knows she was an artist and Frank’s friend, but I never really talk about her life.

“She was really talented,” Joel says.

“Yeah, she was,” I say. I rest my chin on his shoulder, looking for a way to change the subject.

Joel ponders a thought for a moment as I admire the way the evening sun casts a beautiful glow on his tan skin through the open window.

“Can I paint you?” I ask. I feel Joel’s body jolt as he chuckles beneath me.

“You already have,” he says with a smirk. He points to a couple of paintings hidden in the back of the closet.

Anything I paint of Joel has to either be obscure, or hidden so Ellie doesn't find it. I’ve been able to paint him from memory, but it would be nice to have a visual for once.

“No, I want you to model for me.” Joel shifts uncomfortably as I run my hands along his arms. “Please, just for a little bit. The lighting is so good right now.”

Joel huffs, but nods his head. I happily grab the chair from Ellie’s desk and place it in front of the window. He grumpily sits down and allows me to position him the way I want. I put one of his arms around the back of the chair and the other resting on his knee.

He stays still as I pick out my colors and get the canvas ready. It isn’t until after I’ve painted his form and begun to work on the details that he starts to get antsy. He moves slightly in the chair, apologizing when I shoot him a look. His eyes wander the room as I paint the highlight of the golden sun on his cheek.

“What was she like?” Joel asks, breaking the silence in the room.

“Who?” I ask, keeping my focus on my painting.

“Your mom,” he responds. I freeze with the brush against the canvas.

It’s not that my mom was a bad person, but I find it hard to talk about her now. Talking about her is a reminder of what I’ve lost, and I hate to dwell in those feelings for long which is why I’ve been avoiding the topic.

This time there’s no way out. Joel waits patiently for my response, not moving from the position I’ve sat him in. I shift in my seat and clear my throat as I try to think of a way to explain who she was.

“She was really creative,” I start. “She never found something she couldn’t make herself. She was funny, and smart, and very supportive of Ellie and I in whatever we wanted to do.”

I smile at the memories of her, picturing the way she would pick Ellie up after a fall and sweep her into her arms.

“She loved deeply,” I continue. “She was strong in whatever she did. Which also meant she felt emotions really strongly, whether that was love or sadness or anger. I saw a lot more of that when I got older. After Ellie was born, her and my dad started fighting a lot more…”

My throat begins to become thick with emotion, so I clear it and focus on the light again. I work on getting the shadows correctly on his jaw, trying to ignore the way his eyes linger on my reaction.

“What about your dad?” I drop my paintbrush on the floor as Joel speaks again. I curse under my breath as I go to pick it up.

Talking about my mom is hard enough, but I wouldn’t know where to begin with my dad. I don’t know how to understand, let alone explain the two versions of him that exist in my mind. When I was small he was kind and playful, gone a lot but always present when he was there. Later in life, after he stopped traveling for work, he was irritable and withdrawn. He wasn’t mean, but he dampened the mood in the room.

“Can we just,” I take a breath as I stand up to paint again. “I’m sorry, I’m trying to focus right now.”

Joel’s eyes soften, noting that the mention of my father must have been too far. He remains silent as he watches me work for a little longer, but something is off now. The art becomes more mechanical and methodical than before. The brush doesn’t flow as it did. Joel must notice the difference too, because he shifts in his chair.

I begin to protest when he stands up from the chair I’ve sat him in. The lighting will be gone before he settles again. He tunes me out as he grabs the biggest empty canvas he can find and lays it flat on the ground.

“What are you-“ Joel grabs my palette from my hands next, placing it on the cart next to my easel. He cuts me off by placing a gentle kiss to my lips as his hands grab the hem of my shirt.

“It’s my turn,” he says. “Let me paint you.”

He pulls my shirt over my head, sucking in a breath when he exposes my bare chest and stomach, and then continues to undress me. His fingers grasp the waistband of my leggings. He pulls them down my legs, waiting on his knees for me to step out of them.

He puts my leggings in a pile on top of my shirt before kissing up my bare legs. I throw my head back and sigh at the feeling while his fingers climb up to my hips. He pulls my underwear down as well, leaving me completely bare in the middle of the room. Something about this feels more vulnerable than when we were on the stairs or in the kitchen. I’m suddenly aware of how exposed I am.

I shiver as he kisses his way back up my body. When he’s standing again he kisses my lips and then pulls back to look me over. His eyes gleam with desire as they graze over every inch of my body.

Joel is still wearing all his clothes. My hands reach forward to grip his shirt. I need us to be even. I can’t have everything focused on me right now, but that’s what Joel has decided.

He pushes my hands away and picks up a paintbrush. I watch him anxiously as he dips the brush in the bright yellow paint on my palette before turning back to me. I pinch my eyebrows together as he walks behind me.

My body jolts at the feeling of the cold liquid trailing down my skin. I can’t see what he’s doing, but I can feel the tickling sensation of a paint brush against my skin. He spends a while doing it, coating my entire back in an assortment of colors. When he’s done he walks me back to the canvas he placed on the floor.

“On your knees darlin’” he says, the paintbrush in his hands. I follow his instructions embarrassingly quickly.

Once I’m on my knees he delicately directs me backwards so I’m laying on top of the canvas on the floor, then he stands again. I begin to pant as I watch him load the palette up with colors again. He glances back in my direction quickly and then takes his shirt off. A tension builds in my pelvis as he takes off all of his clothes except for his boxers.

He brings the palette and brush back over to where I lay on the floor, putting them on the ground before kneeling in front of me. His eyes wander slowly over my body again. He mutters something I can’t quite hear under his breath while he picks up the paint brush again.

Gently he strokes the brush down the middle of my chest. I squirm at the feeling, the paint on my back smearing along the canvas as I do. A devious look appears in his eyes as he continues to run the brush along my chest and stomach until it runs out of paint. He loads the brush up with red next then starts with my left breast.

The bristles brush along the top of my breast until he reaches my nipple. I let out a whine as he swirls the brush along the sensitive nub. When he’s satisfied he chooses another color for the other breast, bright purple illuminating my skin as my chest begins to heave. I can feel the slick collecting between my thighs. I desperately need his hands on me which only makes him go slower.

When I’m completely covered in paint Joel puts the brush back down on the palette and sits on his knees to admire his work. I squirm again and desperately attempt to squeeze my legs together to ease the tension. My desperation only seems to darken the lust in his eyes. I try to sit up and reach for him, but he grabs my wrists and pins them above my head.

“Joel, please,” I whimper. His face hovers above mine, a cruel smirk spreading across it.

“Stay there babygirl,” he whispers and releases my hands.

I watch with heavy breaths as he moves back on the floor. His hands push my knees apart to expose my core to him. He groans at the sight of my glistening center.

“So fuckin’ wet baby,” he growls. He swipes his thumb across my folds causing me to jump. “You keep your hands up there sweetheart, don’t move ‘em or I’ll stop.”

I nod my head quickly, my hips gliding back and forth on the canvas as I wait for him to touch me again. He licks his lips before laying on the ground. His hands grip my thighs as he pulls himself up to my center. I feel his breath against me first, a rush of warm air causing the tension in my stomach to jump.

He presses a delicate kiss to my clit, teasing the sensitive bud, and then licks a stripe up my center. I moan and squirm again. His lips smile against my core as he pulls himself closer and thrusts his tongue inside me.

A loud guttural moan escapes my lips as he begins to feast between my thighs. I desperately grasp the edge of the canvas to keep my hands from grabbing him as he curls his tongue inside me. I could almost come from that alone, all the tension from his teasing building into a pit of pleasure in my core. I can’t control the way my body thrashes against the canvas as he moves his tongue to flick against my clit.

“God, Joel,” I moan. He picks up his speed, eating me as though it’s his last meal on earth. I’m already so close to the edge when he moves one hand from my thigh to press two fingers inside me.

I scream as he thrusts them in and out, my grip on the canvas tightening. I squeeze my eyes shut as the pressure builds. He crooks his fingers so they press against the sensitive part inside me. The rush of sensitivity as he does so is what causes me to break my resolve. Without thinking, my hands release the canvas and bury themselves in his hair.

Joel immediately pulls away, tutting his tongue as he crawls back to his knees. I whine again and attempt to pull him back to me as I squirm.

“Please, I’m sorry. Please, don’t stop,” I beg. Tears escape my eyes while I squeeze my thighs again, so desperate for the release that just barely escaped me.

“Oh princess, you make this so hard.” Joel says. He reaches a thumb to my cheek to wipe the tears away. “One more chance sweet girl, roll over.”

I look at him questioningly, but I’m too far gone to argue. I roll onto my hands and knees, the paint causing me to slide a bit on the canvas. He leans back and watches as I get myself ready for whatever he has planned next. I hear him shuffle behind me, but I can no longer see what he is doing.

When I’ve stopped moving his hand moves up my leg, gripping my ass for a moment before pulling away. I gasp when I feel his hands return with a sharp smack to my ass. Then he pulls my cheeks apart and moves forward.

He must have taken off his boxers when I turned around because I can feel his bare length push against my dripping folds. I bite my lip as he slides it against my center.

“You want this baby?” I nod, biting my lip so hard I can taste the blood filling my mouth. He moans as he presses himself forward, filling me once again.

I stay completely still while he pushes into me, focusing on the burning stretch until I feel his hips flush with my ass. I keep my hands rooted on the canvas as he pulls back again, but when he thrusts in harder than before I slide and collapse on my stomach. Joel goes down with me.

His chest is pressed against my back, his hands keeping mine pressed against the slippery canvas as he pulls back and thrusts into me again. We moan in unison as he continues his thrusts. My body sides across the canvas with each one and his slides against mine.

The whole thing is messy and slippery, a combination of sweat and paint with loud moans echoing down the halls. He kisses my neck, leaving marks on the skin, as my climax begins to build again. My walls clench around him, signaling how close I am. He thrusts harder, his fingers intertwined with mine as he slides my body up and down.

I’m staring out at the pink and purple sky through the window when orgasm crashes over me. My walls flutter around Joel as I scream. His low moans rumbling through his chest while he continues to thrust into me. When I come down he pulls out and directs me to get up.

He lays down on his back, moving me to climb on top of him. I position my knees on either side of his hips and watch his face twist in pleasure as I sink down on his length. The both of us are covered in paint now, a smattering of colors bleeding together on his chest as he grips my hips.

I throw my head back as I bounce in his lap. He feels so good at this angle. I can feel every vein and ridge of his cock as I slowly rise and lower my body onto him. It’s my turn to tease now.

I try to keep my pace slow, to torture him just a little bit, but it becomes difficult when I feel the pleasure bubbling up inside me again. I can see in his eyes he can tell I’m close again.

His hands move up to squeeze my breasts as I ride him. I feel his fingers pinching my paint covered nipples and moan. I’m not going to last long. He starts to thrust up as well, meeting me halfway as my hips start to lose momentum. My hands press against the canvas as I attempt to keep my pace with my climax looming over me.

“It’s okay sweet girl, come here,” he says. I lower my chest into his and let him take over. He thrusts hard into me a couple of times before I shudder again. “That’s right, let go. Come on.”

I clench around him one more time before letting go completely. He swallows my moans, kissing me deeply while he continues his thrusts until he can’t any longer.

“God, I’m gonna-“ he thrusts again and then stills. “Get up, you gotta-“

Joel pulls me off of him quickly. I climb down his body to take his pulsing member in my mouth. I swirl my tongue around the head, and that’s all he needs to release his load into my mouth with a deep moan. His hips twitch as he lets go, spilling into my mouth. When he finishes I sit up and swallow his load.

“Fuck,” he groans. I smile back at him. He carefully stands up, doing his best not to slip on the canvas.

We both stand back and look at what we created. It’s a mess of color, still wet with no clear reasoning behind any of it. There are places where the colors blend so much that they’ve become a muddled brown or gray. In other areas bright shades of color shine through virtually untouched.

“Damn, I really thought I did something there,” Joel says with his hands on his hips. “Kinda just looks like a mess though.”

I lean forward and kiss a patch of skin on his shoulder untouched by the paint.

“I don’t know, I kinda like it.” I say. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me close.

“Well, you’re the artist,” he says before pressing a kiss to my hair.

We abandon the idea of a movie completely, choosing instead to bathe together so we can wash the paint off our skin. Joel’s hands are gentle as they wash my body, the colorful water pooling at our feet. He let the water run cold against his back as he pushed his fingers inside me again, slowly working me up until my body spasms again.

The rest of the night we stayed in bed, talking and fucking until we fell asleep.

Read more on a03: Always an Angel, Never a God

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Love; for the First Time

Summary: Y/N's first time with Dean may reveal other firsts for both of them.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut. Fingering, Thigh Riding, oral (m/f receiving), hint of overstimulation, virgin!reader, age gap, loss of virginity, unprotected P in V sex, fluff, angst if you squint, Dean being the sexiest motherfucker ever.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Y/N

Word Count: 3,843

A/N: Okay, so here is the Masterlist for the whole First Time Series even though it's not a traditional series. But the stories are definitely more enjoyable if they're read together/in order. But if it's your preference, you can still read them on their own. I've started this one with a small excerpt (in italics) from the last part, since the story picks up exactly where it left off.

A/N 2: For all intents and purposes, this is the final chapter of this little one shot series. But I have a tendency to revisit my couples, so I may return to them in the future, you never know. But for now, I hope you've enjoyed this slightly odd "series" that isn't really a series. Lol!

The beautiful divider at the bottom was made by @talesmaniac89

“Please Dean.” She begged, dropping her forehead to his shoulder and rocking herself back and forth on his thigh. “I need you. I need…need…”

Dean tipped her chin up so she was looking at him again. “What do you need, Y/N? Say it.”

Her stomach clenched tight at the look of fierce desire on his face; she knew it was only echoing her own expression. With all the boldness he’d taught her and all the confidence he’d instilled in her, she lowered her hand to cup the hard bulge behind his zipper making him grit his teeth and growl.

“I need you, Dean. I need all of you. I need you to fill me up. I need you to touch me and make me crazy. I need you to make love to me. I’m ready.” She ground down against his thigh again, and her voice was ragged. 

“I’m so ready.”

Y/N watched Dean’s eyes darken, and his jaw clench. His voice was low and ragged, desire making it rough. But his words were reassuring, kind, loving - as they always were.

“Are you sure, sweetheart? You know there’s no rush, no pressure. I can make you feel good, make you fall apart, get you to scream my name even without going all the way.” He said the last with a grin, but his eyes still burned.

Y/N smiled and kissed him, commanding and controlling the kiss, so that Dean hummed in a tone of surprise. She pulled out of the kiss and rolled her hips, grinding down against his thigh again, catching her bottom lip in her teeth as pleasure shot through her body. She continued to ride his thigh, hips rolling, as she spoke breathlessly. 

“I know you can, Dean, and I wanna take anything and everything you give me. But I wanna…” She leaned her forehead against his and stared deep into his emerald eyes so he’d know she meant it. “I also wanna give you me. All of me.”

She shook her head. “I’m not afraid, I’m not scared or nervous. I’m just on fire, and I need you, more than I’ve ever needed anything - more than breath.” She rolled her hips against him again, hard and desperate, bunching her hands in his dark gray Henley, and speaking against his plump lips. “Make me breathless, Dean.”

She exhaled into his mouth, and ran her tongue along his bottom lip. Dean growled and then captured her mouth, plunging his tongue deep inside, nearly reaching the back of her throat. She whimpered slightly and his hands tightened at her waist. His mouth and hands flew across her skin. He pushed her shirt up over her head, tossing it to the ground before he dipped his head and nipped at the puckered bud of her nipple through her lacy bra.

Seconds later, he flicked open the hooks at her back, and ripped the garment from her body. His hands slid up from her waist, passing over her sides and then spanning her upper back so he could hold her in place against his mouth. He laved her breast with his wide tongue, before sucking on it deeply, and causing her to let out a harsh groan.

With her head thrown back she wrapped her arms around his neck and rode his thigh, drenching his jeans through her panties, her denim skirt now bunched around her hips. Dean moved one hand down from her back, shoving it between their bodies, and pushing her sodden, cotton panties against her sensitive clit, making her cry out again.

“God, Dean.” She rasped out. “Uhn, please, please.” She chanted into his ear. “I need you.” She repeated. Dean shifted to her other breast and bit gently into the soft flesh, making Y/N shout out in surprised ecstasy, and dig her nails into his back muscles, rippling beneath the dark cotton of his Henley.

“Dean!” His name was just a keening moan, and she felt him harden even more beneath her; his cock straining behind his zipper. It must have been painful but, ignoring his body’s rigid heat, he pulled away from her breast, and set his big hands on her cheeks to pull her into a kiss that once again left her breathless.

He shifted in the seat, scooping her into his arms, so he was holding her like a bride as he rose from the chair and walked slowly down the hall towards his room.

When he got there, he set her on her feet, and turned on the light. He wasted no time in shedding his clothes. She watched intently as inch after tantalizing inch of his skin was exposed to her hungry gaze, until he was naked and glorious in front of her. His cock was tall and thick, resting against his stomach and Y/N bit her lip, unable to look away. 

She wasn’t scared, she trusted Dean completely, but she was curious, because he simply seemed too big to fit into her body. Where was he going to go?

Dean’s voice was gravelly and tight. “Do you want to touch me, baby? You can if you want.”

Y/N nodded and then caught his eye; his expression said he was holding himself in check. His jaw ticked, and his muscles were strained, his fists clenching and unclenching at his side. She walked forward and reached out her hand to wrap it around his cock. He hissed and then groaned as she rubbed her thumb across the slit that topped the head of his cock. As she pressed there, a bead of white bloomed and then dripped down over his velvety skin. She circled her thumb around his spongy head, spreading out the slightly sticky liquid evenly.

Experimentally, she tightened her grip slightly and slid her hand up and down his erection. Dean’s hips bucked forward, seemingly of their own accord, and the hot, hard shaft in her hand throbbed, making her mouth run dry.

She continued to explore his body, running her hands over all his skin, and moving behind him to pet and massage all the beautiful muscles that rippled there. Feeling bold and encouraged, she ran her hand over his plump backside, squeezing it as she walked back around to the front of him. It was firm but giving beneath her hand and the feel of it made her heart race.

As she looked back up into his eyes, she reached forward once again to grip his cock, entranced as she watched a vein bulge in his neck as he strained hard, desperately keeping himself in check while she touched him all she wanted. She shook her head in awe.

“You’re so unbelievably beautiful, Dean.” She leaned forward, his dick still throbbing in her hand, and pressed feathery kisses across his chest. She looked up at him from beneath her lashes. “So, beautiful.”

Dean smiled warmly even as she felt his heart pounding beneath her lips. “I pale in comparison, sweetheart.” He said softly, tucking her hair behind her ear. Y/N smiled shyly and stepped away from him to shed her jeans and panties. She stood before him naked, and the blatant want and desire she saw in his face made her body glow.

She took up his hand and then pulled him after her. She turned to face him, walking backwards towards the bed.

“Make love to me, Dean? Please. Please show me everything.” She pulled his other hand into hers and placed them both on her breasts. She arched into his hands, and wrapped her fingers around his thick wrists. “I’ve wanted you for so long. I’m so grateful for your patience, for your good heart, and for the way you make me feel so safe.”

She ducked her head. “Maybe this isn’t the right time to tell you, but…I love you, Dean.” She looked up into his unfathomable gaze and admitted the truth. “I’ve loved you for a very long time.”

He didn’t respond immediately, and Y/N wanted him to understand something. “Please don’t think you have to love me back. I don’t want to scare you or pressure you. But everything here in this place, between us, has been based on truth, on saying what we feel, and leaving no space for lies. So…I just felt I owed you the truth.”

Dean’s expression clouded over for a moment, a deep furrow settling on his forehead, making a line appear between his brows. He reached out to run his knuckles gently down her cheek, shaking his head.

“It’s such a bad idea to love me, sweetheart.” She saw fear spark in his expression before he stepped closer and cupped his hand under her jaw. He pressed his thumb to her bottom lip and closed his eyes.

“But I won’t lie to you here either.” He opened his eyes and bent his head forward to pull her top lip into his mouth and suck at it gently. He let it go and dropped his forehead to hers, letting their breath mingle for a minute more before he spoke, so softly she almost couldn’t make out the words.

“I love you, Y/N, all of you and completely.” He shuddered slightly and the fear entered his voice this time. “It scares the shit out of me, and I need to warn you that there might always be a part of me that’ll be sure I’m gonna lose you.”

Y/N tried to speak at that, but he pressed a finger to her lips and shook his head. “No, it’s okay, sweetheart. I’m just telling you because…well, because no lies, right?” He shrugged. “I’ll work it out. And every day you're here beside me will be one more day to push away the fear.”

She nodded and tears sparkled on her lashes before spilling over. This moment was more than she’d ever hoped for, and as Dean settled his hands on her hips and pulled her against him, she felt the heady combination of love and want, lust and tenderness wash over her, making her dizzy. 

Dean ran his hands over the swell of her hips and down over her backside before he wrapped one arm around her waist and reached his other hand between her legs from behind, pressing gently at her entrance and making her legs give out. If he hadn’t been holding on to her, she would have melted into the floor. 

She threw her head back and let out a guttural moan as he eased his thick finger inside her. Dean took advantage of her exposed neck to lay a trail of blistering kisses across her skin. He licked and nipped at her pulse and Y/N felt like she might burst into flames as she rode his hand. She instinctively lifted her leg up to wrap around his hip so that he could sink further into her body. He added a second finger and pushed them both in deeper, pumping them faster, as she clung to his neck and panted, dewy and warm across the tattoo on his chest.

He scissored her open on his fingers, stretching her with a pleasurable burn, before pressing his fingers back together and pushing hard on the sweet spot inside her, the spot that made her see stars, and nearly pass out from pleasure. He pressed it repeatedly, until her thighs trembled and she clenched hard around his fingers, ripples of rapture spreading out across her body.

She fell, boneless, against him, and he scooped her up again to lay her out on the bed. Instead of laying beside her as he’d done in the past, though, he climbed onto the end of the bed, shuffling forward so that he knelt between her feet. He let his fingers trail lightly over her soft curls, and caught her eye.

“I wanna kiss you,” he dipped his middle finger into her folds, causing Y/N to lick her lips, her breathing picking up, “I wanna kiss you, here.” The rough pad of his finger pressed against her clit and Y/N raised her hips, trying to get more friction. But he pulled his hand back and simply stroked her sex, giving her only a tiny bit of pressure when she desperately wanted more.

“Can I kiss you there, Y/N? Can I taste you? I wanna see the view from between your thighs when you come. I wanna take you apart and feel you explode on my tongue. Want you to dribble your juices down my chin. Say yes - tell me I can devour you.”

Y/N listened to the heated, intimate, and arousing words that were dripping from his lips and all she could do was nod, and croak out her agreement. “Yes. Yes.” She said quickly.

“Good girl.” Dean said warmly, rubbing the delicate skin of her pussy, and scratching his blunt fingernails through her curls. 

He sank down onto his stomach, and his face disappeared from her view just seconds before she felt him lick a stripe, wet and messy, through her folds. She let out a completely shocked shout, having no time to recover from the unexpected delight of his talented tongue, before he was pulling her bundle of nerves between his lips and sucking lightly.

This time she screamed and clawed at his shoulders. It took him less than thirty seconds to rip her second orgasm out of her. But he didn’t stop there. He took her over the edge again and again, sucking, licking, nibbling at her sensitive flesh. The blankets and bedsheets beneath her were drenched and completely twisted from her thrashing body.

But Dean never slowed. His tongue speared her, it twisted in circles around her clit, the tip flicking back and forth against her. He pushed his fingers into her welcoming body once again, continuing to stretch her, pushing in a third finger slowly, inch by inch while his tongue licked patterns into her tender flesh. He did take her apart as he said he would, over and over. It wasn’t until she was a shaking mess, her body quivering and her throat raw from her shouts of bliss, that he finally moved his body up hers, settling his hips between her legs.

She could feel his heavy cock resting against her slick folds as he leaned on his forearms, his strong arms on either side of her shoulders, keeping her safe under his weight and within the shelter of his arms. He pushed her sweaty hair from her forehead and then trailed his forefinger down the bridge of her nose and then over her parched lips.

She opened her mouth and sucked on the tip of it, before she let it go to smile at him. “You know,” she told him quietly, creakily, “the first time I ever saw you, I remember thinking that your hands looked so strong, like they could keep me safe.” She reached up to take his hand, and pressed all four fingers to her lips.

She shook her head, her eyes shining. “I had no idea just how right I was.”

Dean nodded. “I will always, always do whatever I have to, to keep you safe. I swear it.”

Y/N felt a tear slip down her cheek, happiness bubbling over. Dean sipped it from her skin, and then moved to kiss her, soft and sweet. He took hold of his cock and slid it through her slick; the contact with her overly sensitive clit had her biting her lip and pressing her head back into the pillow. 

Dean kissed the underside of her jaw, and spoke softly. “Keep your eyes on me, baby.” She looked at him, her eyes unfocused with lust. “I need to know how you’re doing.” She felt the spongy tip of his cock press bluntly against her entrance. “No matter what, if you need me to stop, I’ll stop, okay?” 

Dean’s voice was strained and his muscles were tense with unreleased tension and power, but she didn’t doubt him for a second; so she nodded to tell him that she was good. “I’m good, Dean.” She pushed her heels into the backs of his thighs urging him forward. “Please, come into me.” 

Dean groaned at that, and pushed forward.

Y/N felt herself stretch as he moved into her; there was a mostly pleasant burn as he opened her wide. He entered her slowly, giving her body plenty of time to adjust to him. She could feel the way his muscles vibrated with his restraint. As he finally sank into her to the hilt, he groaned savagely and buried his face in her neck.

“Fuck, fuck.” He mumbled. “You’re paradise, sweetheart. Hot, wet, paradise.” 

Y/N chuckled softly. She knew the feeling. Having Dean joined with her so intimately, to be so stuffed full of him, to feel him throbbing deep inside her, did indeed feel like heaven. She couldn’t imagine anything feeling better. 

Then he moved.

He moved slowly and shallowly, pulling back barely an inch and then pushing forward again. Again the stretch of him burned, but the friction of his hard cock gliding over her pulsing core walls made fire explode in her body. She wanted more, she wanted him harder, deeper.

He moved slightly again, easing her body open carefully, slowly carving a path for more vigorous movements as he slid out further every time. Until he was pulling out all but the tip before rocking his hips forward languidly. He gritted his teeth against his need to slam into her, trying desperately not to hurt her. 

But thrust by thrust, Y/N was losing any need for gentleness. It stung a bit, but she didn’t care, she needed him to ram into her body, she needed to feel him so deep, he’d leave an imprint, brand her, mark her. 

“Please, Dean. H-h-harder.” She gasped out. “Please!” She begged.

Following her urging he pulled out almost completely and then slammed himself back into her so deep she felt as though he was breaking her in half. But still she didn’t care. She wanted him to break her.

“Dean!” She shouted, her throat raw and scratchy, “Break me open!” She cried, half insane from her unfulfilled desire. But Dean heard the desperation in her tone, and knew it matched his own. So, he began to jackhammer his cock into her hot, dripping, body, watching her closely as her climax built and then exploded across her face. Her nails dug hard into his sides where she gripped him, and he shouted out his pain and pleasure, as he continued to ram into her with abandon. 

He was vaguely aware that she came again as he pounded into her body one last time, spurting into her, hot and thick. It felt like his orgasm wouldn’t end. He just kept shuddering and thrusting, pumping more and more ropes and of cum into her tight, clenching heat.

Finally his muscles gave way and he landed heavily on top of her. He meant to move off of her, but before he could muster the energy, she wrapped her legs tighter around his thighs, and her arms around his torso, keeping him where he was - head pillowed on her breast, listening to her hammering heart slow down in sync with his own. 

They laid that way for a long time, basking in the aftermath. Finally Dean worried he was crushing her, so he very reluctantly rolled off of her and out of her body. Y/N made a incoherent complaint that ended when he pulled her across his chest. They both dozed for a while, replete and more at peace than either of them could ever remember feeling.

Eventually they roused, Y/N kissing Dean’s chest as she drifted in and out of consciousness before finding his nipple and licking. Dean woke fully and growled, so Y/N woke too, and began to nibble his skin. And they began again.

They turned to each other two more times in the night. The last time, Y/N was too sore to take Dean inside again, so he just feasted on her instead, licking her soothingly, and undulating his tongue against the abused entrance to her body, dulling the throbbing there while still increasing her pleasure until she came on his tongue. 

Then he taught her how to take him into her mouth, how to suck him tightly, and how to pleasure him with her tongue. As his climax crested, he tried to pull away so he wouldn’t explode in her mouth, but Y/N wouldn’t let him, trying to swallow him down completely. She came close, licking her lips and scooping up what slid down her chin.

The whole night was spent in intervals of fierce rapture and idyllic tranquility. It was the most beautiful and soul-fulfilling thing that had ever happened to either of them. 

When they eventually fell asleep for good, they slept straight through until one o’clock in the afternoon. Dean woke up first, a delicious kind of ache in his muscles causing him to stretch long, and groan deep, rousing Y/N with his movements. Being unaccustomed to such vigorous night time activities, her body ached more, and her pussy was raw and tender. She hissed as Dean cupped a hand over her gently. 

Contrition shone in his eyes. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m gonna go run you a bath, and we’re gonna make that feel better.” Y/N nodded, but pulled his mouth down to hers for a long, passionate kiss. 

They were gasping as she pulled away and grinned at him. “It was worth every owie.”

Dean grinned back and then began to get up, but Y/N sat up and pulled him back down beside her. She smiled at him, a little shy, but beaming. 

“Dean, I meant every word I said last night. And it was an absolutely perfect first time, I couldn’t have asked for anything more incredible.”

Dean smiled back and brushed his lips across hers. “Me too, sweetheart, me too.”

Y/N giggled lightly. “It was your first time too?” She said, pretending astonishment.

Dean chuckled, and then shook his head, his face becoming more serious. “It was actually.”

Y/N frowned at him, still smiling. “What?” she asked in confusion.

Dean looked down at his lap for a moment before looking back into her eyes. “It was the first time I’ve ever slept with someone…someone I love.” He blushed slightly, and Y/N couldn’t believe what she was seeing; her confident, sexy hunter looked shy and unsure for once. 

He cleared his throat. “First time I was with someone that I plan on making a life with.” He shrugged. “I’m not sure exactly how this goes now.”

Y/N smiled widely and climbed into his lap to wrap her arms around his neck. “Well, looks like we have tons of firsts to explore together then.” She kissed him softly and then smiled against his lips.

“First time for everything, after all.”

1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays. @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @impalaslytherin @maggiegirl17 @akshi8278 @candy-coated-misery0731 @deanswaywardgirl @slytherinlyn314 @globetrotter28 @jensensgirl @perpetualabsurdity @tristanrosspada-ackles @djs8891 @muhahaha303 @kayyay1219 @emily-winchester @recoveringpastaaddict @maximumkillshot @mimaria420 @sacriceria @envyaurora95 @lacilou @jc-winchester @spnwoman @mimi-luvzyu

2 - Dean Winchester Fics Only. @carryonwaywardgirl

3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.) @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @alexxavicry @nancymcl @spalady26

4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well) @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @maliburenee @supernatural4life2022 @spn730015 @kickingitwithkirk @waywardbaby @foxyjwls007 @deanwanddamons @deandreamernp @deanwithscissors @myloversgone @snowlovespie @leigh70 @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @charred-angelwings @hopefuldreamers-world @jensensgotyoudean @thoughts-and-funnies @magssteenkamp @princessmisery666 @eevvvaa @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @bernasaurus @jensenslady79 @courtn92 @avanatural @ellie-andthemachine @this-is-me19 @roseblue373 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @fanfic-n-tabulous

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

Harry Potter

The Ordeal of Being Known by louisfake

When Auror Potter is anonymously cursed with silence by being forced to hide his own voice inside his mind, there's unfortunately only one person in the country with the qualifications to fix it: Certified and Licensed Healer Legilimens, Draco Malfoy, specialist in Mind Curses and Afflictions. It's obviously a terrible idea, a disaster waiting to happen, but Draco's never been able to back down from a challenge... especially from Potter.

Features fuzzy cartoon slippers, devious house elves, 90s music, and lots—LOTS—of memories. Ron is annoyingly hot, Hermione sees right through you, Harry is a powerful idiot, and Draco is a reclusive masochist that would buy an entire city if it would make a kid happy. (And Pansy is "5'2, I wanna dance with you, and I'm sophisticated fun.")

Super Mario Bros

Cooking Mama (Luigi)! by Little_RedHots_Riding_Hood

Luigi was having a perfectly peaceful stroll through the Toad Market - the sun was shining, he'd just found a lovely handmade blanket, and was on his way to the bakery before heading back to his and Mario's home.

Only... what was that sniffling noise from that dark, scary alleyway?

Of all the creatures he was expecting to find, the littlest prince of the Koopa Kingdom certainly wasn't it.

Star Wars

the tiger is out by elumish

Wolffe looks like he’s regretting having a second Jedi with them.

DC

Cryp-Tim by PrinceJakeFireCake

"The cons of dating Tim Drake were innumerous. For one, he was almost impossible to photograph, and so none of Kon’s friends at school actually believed he existed. His family was scary, horrifying really, and all of them seemed to find joy in making Tim regret ever being born. And Tim had charmed Ma and Pa Kent so thoroughly, they had ditched their shovel talk to instead coo at him and offer him pie and compliment him for fixing their tractor, so Kon was at a disadvantage when it came to intimidating someone with his family.”

Kon and Tim date. It goes pretty well, all things considered.

Tim Has a Hero Worship-y Crush on Every Robin Ever by PrinceJakeFireCake

"Tim as an adult was bad enough, Tim with no filter as a child was too much to be around."

Cork Board Contingencies by PrinceJakeFireCake

If you don’t use a cork board to obsessively plan contingencies for every possible way a date with your best friend can go, how can you go on a date at all?

Excerpt: “Are you free next Saturday?” Tim asked, pretty sure that Kon’s jumble of words was agreement that he wanted to date Tim.

“Maybe!” Kon exclaimed.

“Cool,” Tim commented, taking another sip of his drugged grape soda (“Dammit, Tim,” he mentally told himself. “Do not give in! Buy new grape soda! Stop drinking the drugged grape soda! I’ve shotgunned another can of drugged grape soda, haven’t I? Dammit, that makes five!”) then saying, “That gives me just enough time to pass out for fifty-two hours and plan our first date."

Immunology by JustGettingBy

Hypothetically speaking. Could a hybrid creature become suddenly not viable? Like say it survives being an embryo, makes it through growing up, and then just one day… stops? the text from Kon reads.

Tim’s heart spikes up through his ribs. Kon. What’s happening?

(OR Kon gets the flu. It becomes Tim's problem.)

Change of Plans by PrinceJakeFireCake

"Who’s your friend, Tim?” the voice asked.

Jason hissed. This was his baby! Not his friend!

“Sorry, sorry,” the voice hastened to apologize. “I mean, who’s your parent, Tim?”

AKA, who has the time to be a murderous crime/drug lord when there are kittens to adopt

Motion Blur by sElkieNight60

At Damian's school art showcase, Bruce realizes he needs to help Tim reframe their relationship.

[eliteseven]

Absolutely love how you portray Tav and Shadowheart. Would you mind sharing some more domesticity HCs please?? They deserve that peaceful, full of love life so much 😭

🥹💕 thank you so much!!!! Sure, I would love to share a few nuggets of domesticity!

ShadowTav Cottage Domesticity HC’s (pt.2)

-Neither Tav nor Shadowheart have a “green thumb”. I think they’re both better at killing things, given how they’ve both spent the last decade 😅 but I feel like Arnell and Emmeline are just pure magic in the garden. They teach Shadowheart and Tav how to plant, water, compost, prune, and just generally care for the plants and trees. It’s like Emmeline’s little lessons in the kitchen. It’s a sweet way for them all to spend time with each other. Plus, every time Shadowheart’s parents remark that she’s doing something in just the same way she would have as a child, she lights up! 🥰

-Shadowheart and Tav starting a book collection 🥹 Shadowheart’s favorite smutty novels, a collection of Emmeline’s recipes, Tav’s favorite childhood books, writings that they came across in their adventures, books they pick up for each other on trips to Baldur’s Gate. They read together nearly every day. Sometimes, Tav reads while Shadowheart naps in her lap out in fields, under the sun. Sometimes Shadowheart gets a laugh out of her and reads her smutty excerpts while she makes supper in the kitchen.

-I’ve said this before but: Shadowheart particularly takes so much joy in decorating their cottage. Tav had her own quarters in her estate through childhood- but Shadowheart never really remembers a room being hers, let alone a cottage. She wants paintings! Color! Flowers, both alive, and of the dried and pressed variety! Little signs of their shared life together still make her eyes sting with emotion. Her clothes mixed in with Tav’s in the wardrobe (I HC they share everything🥰). Her equipment (sword, armor, etc) hanging beside Tav’s in their display. She never feels alone again. She has a home. She belongs somewhere, to someone, just at they belong to her.

-Shadowheart and Tav doing each other’s hair before bed. Or, perhaps, undoing is the proper term here- but I genuinely think this is a romantic, soft, domestic, meaningful ritual for them both. In days where Shadowheart wears her hair up; Tav lovingly undoes Shadowheart’s hair, part by part, runs her fingers through every silken strand. She rubs at Shadowheart’s scalp, gets her to unwind like a kitten, curling into her touch like she’s the warm afternoon sun. Shadowheart returns the favor- she loves Tav with her hair down. She brushes Tav’s hair and watches the stress of the day melt away from her shoulders. It’s something simple, really, but an act of sheer adoration for them both.

-Cottage maintenance, baby! A particularly bad storm has Tav (who…probably still isn’t the best at tinkering or fixing things bc…why would she be?) sitting on the roof, soaked to the bone, trying to patch a part of the roof that’s given out. Sure, they could put a pail under it and call it a day, but Tav is…Tav. It’s over Arnell and Emmeline’s little guest cottage, and she will be damned if she lets her in-laws sleep in the rain. She…can’t fix it. Not till morning, and not without assistance. But she and Shadowheart offer their room to her parents. Shadowheart comes and finds her in the rain, and I like to think…they just embrace it. Rain and all. It’s freeing. Probably stay out there till who knows when, just taking in the rain, embracing each other. Poetic cinema

-Tav comes a long way with the animals. She’s always liked animals, but I don’t think her past afforded her any chance to really have any pets other than her mount in the military (assuming she had one). It warms Shadowheart’s soul to wake up to Tav quietly whispering to Buttons about how busy their day is going to be, or racing Scratch and the Owlbear to the barn, or singing sweetly to Daphne while she brushes her. But seeing Tav holding the little ones: the kittens, the baby chicks, Buttons when he’s a pup…baby fever!!!!! Has Shadowheart down atrociously 😍

-not exactly a domesticity HC but needs to be said: they still train together. Tav will be damned if she lets her skill with a blade get rusty- especially now that she has a family to protect. Shadowheart, too- wits and blades always sharp, just for a different, kinder goddess now. Now, if they’re both sweaty and worked up and happen to simply jump each other’s bones afterwards, every time…. 😏 I digress

-bittersweet last one here: Tav is a human. Shadowheart will outlive her. She’s well-aware of this fact, and though she is living her best life, she worries for Shadowheart in the future. I’ve been playing with the idea that, every day, when Shadowheart is otherwise occupied, Tav slips away to write her a little note. Like a diary entry, almost- but for Shadowheart. Sometimes they’re brief thoughts, sometimes it’s as simple as telling Shadowheart how ethereal she looked that day, and how much Tav loves her. Tav saves these notes over the years as she compiles them. Hiding them from Shadowheart is one of the hardest things she ever has to do. But…one day, when Shadowheart is aching from the loss and misses her…well, she can open up this journal, or collection of notes, and fall in love with Tav all over again 🥹💕 Tav documents all these sweet little moments of domesticity, and they gain eternal life on that parchment. Shadowheart is free to relive their love and life together as often as she wants. I think she will always be Shadowheart’s home.

[dreamwatch]

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson | Rating: Mature | WC: 6988

Tags: Angst, Mental health issues, Depression, Cotard’s syndrome, mental institutions, protective Steve Harrington, Angst with a happy ending, recovery, caretaker Steve Harrington (full tags here)

Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Wayne Munson, Robin Buckley, Max Mayfield, Dustin Henderson

Summary: Nobody has seen Eddie for weeks, and nasty rumours are spreading through Hawkins. When Dustin can't get any answers from Wayne Munson he turns to Steve for help.

(Read on AO3 - excerpt under the cut)

Steve’s not friends with Eddie Munson. 

Honestly? After spending four years of high school with him, he’d say he was a bit of an asshole. Eddie thought it was funny to add a ‘t’ when pronouncing Miss Cunliffe’s name. He made a spectacle of himself in the cafeteria while people were trying to have their lunch. He’d sit in the bleachers and make stupid buzzer noises every time someone on the basketball team missed a shot. Steve had actually been on the receiving end of that a couple of times himself; birds were flipped, horns were raised, it was pathetic. 

But then Henderson, Sinclair and Wheeler started high school, and it turned out that Eddie was a safe space for them. He was a walking deflection; no one gives a fuck about some nerdy freshman when Eddie’s standing in their lunch. 

And then there was the Upside Down, where Steve was proclaimed a ‘good dude’, while Eddie pushed him toward Nancy because he thought he could see a flame still burning. He was wrong, but it was nice that someone cared.

So, Eddie Munson: not really an asshole, as it turns out. Or as far as he can tell; Steve hasn’t seen him in months.

Thing is - neither has anyone else.

For a while, they thought Eddie had left Hawkins. But Max has seen him peering out from behind the curtains in his trailer, so everyone knows he’s there. Dustin stopped knocking on the door of the Munson’s trailer weeks ago, but he still calls hoping that Wayne will finally say ‘Sure, he’s right here’ instead of the usual ‘Sorry, he’s busy’. It’s a wonder the kid hasn’t been arrested for stalking.

It gets worse, because of course it does.

The new school year brings new rumours, nastier than the ones before. And Dustin, with his carbon-copy hair, and carbon-copy rings, isn’t letting them out into the world unchallenged.

The story goes that the cops got called to a ‘disturbance’ at Roane County Cemetery, and found Eddie at Chrissy’s grave trying to dig her up. No one with an ounce of sense would believe it, which means that in Hawkins it’s practically gospel.

Of course, when shit hits the fan Dustin has a way of always making it Steve’s problem. He makes Steve promise to talk to Eddie. Steve promises to try; he’s not committing to anything else. 

Max still lives in the trailer park, and the Munson’s new trailer is close to hers. She has an eagle-eye view of the comings and goings from that place. 

He drops her off one night, but she doesn’t immediately get out of the car, so he kills the engine giving her time to talk.

“I’ve seen the cops dropping him off at three o’clock in the morning, Steve. More than once. He looked awful. Like, really skinny. He was like a zombie, like he didn’t even know where he was.”

It’s not his responsibility. But going back for Nancy and Jonathan wasn’t his responsibility, and protecting the shitheads in the tunnels, or in the Russian bunker, or in the Upside Down wasn’t his responsibility. It’s never been his responsibility. But he did all those things anyway because he cared. Still does.

[swiftllama]

Oct/Nov Compliments ☀️🔍

[Compliments Masterlist]

Hey guys! And we’re back for another two months of compliments! So let’s get into it :-

October 2023

Forbes Article

So to start off the month the boys done an interview with Jon Youshaei for Forbes and also an office tour. It would be later in the month we would get the full 2hr interview, but first we got the article that included excerpts from said interview, including these :-

Anthony being a softie for their friendship as always. Relatable.

This isn’t the first time they’ve mentioned about how the way they work and ‘fit’ together, they’ve never found in anyone else. I covered it in my first Compliments Post, both during Anthony’s interview with Ian and at Vidcon, they’ve each said similar things. And I love how they recognise that, and how truly special their bond is and something that can never be replaced or replicated.

The second quote of Anthony’s - GAWD my heart! I know he didn’t explicitly say it, but that quote basically boils down to ‘we’re two really close friends who love each other.’ 😭❤️

Anthony Reacts To “Where’s Anthony” Jokes

So this video, whilst funny, was pretty sad. I don’t know if it was just me, but I thought Ian seemed particularly quiet during it and like he was just trying to get through the reaction as quick as possible without dwelling on the clips long. I have said before, but I think the reasoning for his quietness may be down to the fact the ‘where’s Anthony?’ jokes held the most emotions for Ian than anyone else. Whilst he did join in on the jokes at times, there was much more behind it than when the others would make the jokes. In the reaction video they do make reference a couple times about how the jokes affected Ian, which I shall go into, some of it ties into being complimentary :-

[watching clip of two boys doing a tiktok trend and make reference to Anthony leaving]

Anthony: “I mean, that was a 10. Those guys- that joke was amazing. And you [Ian] took it like a champ, all things considered.”

Arasha: “Yeah, 10 for you too, Ian.”

I love them acknowledging how the jokes could of affected Ian but he always handled it well, regardless.

-

[watching clip of Shayne answering that Ian and Anthony are the best ship]

Anthony: “We are a good ship. I’ve read the fanfictions.”

Ian: “Oh yeah, the ship’s great. That ship’s sailing. It’s been sailing for a decade.”

Even they acknowledge it 😏😌

-

[watching clip of Ian pretending to be himself from the past talking to his future self and asking “how’s Anthony?”]

Anthony: “That one kind of made me a little sad.”

Ian: “Awww. Yeah.”

Anthony: “Yeah, cause I’m like thinking back to you actually in 2008 being all stoked about me being part of it.”

Ian: “About all our adventures and be like, “How’s Anthony?” and it’s like “awww”.”

Anthony: “Yeah, I give that one a 10. That was commitment.”

I’m fine. This is fine. Not crying at all…..

Anthony being sad imagining young Ian so excited about them working together and how it would hurt him knowing what happened between them 🥺😭

I like that Anthony gave him a 10 and acknowledged his commitment to the bit, just wish it didn’t have it be for something so sad 😩

-

[watching clip of Ian joking that Anthony was coming back and they would be getting rid of everyone at Smosh and Anthony laughs a lot at the clip]

Anthony: “That was good! That was a good one. That definitely caught Courtney and Damien off guard.” [laughs]

Arasha: “I liked it. Just convinced that they don’t have their jobs anymore. That is good.”

Anthony: “That was a good threat. Yeah. Got ‘em.” [highfives for jokingly threatening your employees lol]

-

[watching clip of Ian in a sketch saying “I should’ve left with Anthony.”]

Anthony: [laughs] “That was good! That’s good. That was a 10.”

Courtney: “That was improv.”

Anthony: “That was improvised?!”

Courtney: “It was.”

Ian: “Oh yeah.”

Anthony: [shocked/surprised face] “Really? Damn, no, that was really good.”

-

[watching clip of Shayne wearing an emo-style wig in a video and Ian saying “Woah, it’s like he never left.”]

Anthony: [laughing and banging hand on table] “That was just a 10. I like it because you didn’t even say the name. You just said ‘he’.”

Notice the pattern of Anthony giving Ian 10s 😌

-

[watching clip from Ian’s funeral roast where he tells Courtney after Anthony left she “stepped up and became the new person who shuts down every single idea [he] has”]

Anthony: “Damn, that was good. There was a lot there. I mean, obviously solid 10.”

Arasha: “There was some tension that was let out right then.”

Shayne: “Only excuse we have there is that we were drunk. That was our drunk live.”

Anthony: [to Ian] “Which is kind of funny though because when we’ve talked, you’ve talked about how I amp up your jokes and encourage you.”

Dads are fighting…😳🫢

But aside from the joking bit of tension of that moment I just want to acknowledge what Anthony said, about how he amps up and encourages Ian and that Ian does recognise that.

-

Got a little Ian compliment towards the end of the video too :-

Ian: [patting Anthony’s shoulder] “Anthony, we’re glad you’re here. And we know where you are.”

Anthony: “Awww… Thank you.

-

At the end of the video Shayne says how they’ll never make another ‘Where’s Anthony?’ joke again, and jokingly says unless he gets lost at some point. Anthony agrees, and then just to be a menace, jokes about them saying it again if he “leaves again permanently” 😩🤬

Ian: [acting panicked] “I can’t go through this again.”

There was then this little sweet moment of Anthony comforting Ian by rubbing his back 🥹

(credit to @ianthoni for the gif)

Anthony: “We don’t want to see that sadness under Ian’s eyes again.”

Ian: “No, never.”

Anthony: “Not anymore. We like happy Ian. He’s back.”

Anytime they bring up how happy Ian is now that Anthony’s back it makes me want to cry 🥹

I love you so much Grandpa #2

So Anthony went to Prague to get more tattoos, and what gift did he bring back for Ian? Covid. Anyways, they’d missed the previous members livestream since Anthony was away and so promised an extended one in this tweet :-

It’s more complimentary-by-extension but the little ‘I love you so much’ I feel could be very accurate to how Anthony’s reaction will have been irl of feeling guilty for giving only Ian covid. Especially given the reactions we have seen on video of them acting sus about it all, or Ian half-jokingly acting annoyed and staring at Anthony when it’s brought up and Anthony acting like he doesn’t know how they got it. A few examples :- (x)(x)(x)

Dixon Cider - Flashback w/ Smosh

In this Flashback they had to take a sip of Dixon Cider everytime they done something sexy in the music video.

Anthony: “Wait. Wait. I know I shouldn’t keep pausing, but what are you doing in the background of this shot?”

Ian: “I’m just vibing, dude. I’m just vibing. You know I should take a drink because I look pretty good there.”

Anthony: “You were sexing it up.”

👀 …okay, Anthony…

-

[Reacting to the breakdown part of the song]

Ian: “Sexy. I’m going to-” [takes a sip]

Anthony: “You know I’m gonna take a swig for that too.”

-

[Song lyrics: “I love Dixon Cider and I will ‘til the day that I die.”]

Anthony: “…Let’s do a 10 year check in. Do you still love Dixon Cider to this day? Do you think that you will until the day that you die?”

Ian: [stares at Anthony] “…Yeah.”

Anthony: “I’m gonna take a swig for that. That’s sexy.”

This video just became Anthony calling Ian sexy and I’m not mad about it.

2hr Interview

Finally the interview came 🙌

It covered a lot of the things we already knew. But of course through talking about these things we’re always bound to get compliments and that’s exactly what we got :-

[talking about how many projects they had whilst under Defy and how Anthony puts all his effort and passion into everything, whereas Ian’s focus was more on sketches and the creative side of things]

Ian: “For me, like, there was just certain things that I wasn’t that interested in so I didn’t really pour that much of my time into, but Anthony like doesn’t know how to not put all of his heart into something. So I think that’s what really just spread you thin.”

Anthony: “Yeah. I think it’s a good thing that you kept your energy in one place where it really showed. You having so much of your energy and placing it in the places that were more visible, the YouTube sketches, those videos are some of our most viewed videos on the channel. You know, 30, 40, 50, 60 million views on those videos. While I was putting all of my heart into all these projects that now I’m like ‘Do people even remember that comic book that we made?’ ‘Do people even remember the games that we made?’.”

One thing I really loved about this interview was the back and forth of compliments to one another. Really pointing out how they recognise each other’s strengths in their unique ways. As the quote above stated, Ian recognises how Anthony puts his all into everything and yes maybe it doesn’t always serve himself in the best way, but it shows just how much he cares about every aspect when it comes to Smosh. And that in no way discredits Ian’s care, it actually works so well when paired with Anthony’s dynamic that Ian focuses his efforts more on where he knows his strengths are and that is going to make the most impact. Which again, is one of the many reasons as to why they do mesh so well together.

Speaking of their dynamic, it’s something Anthony later brings up :-

Anthony: “…Something about just our two personalities just click really well and I think every single thing needed to happen exactly the way that it did for it to end up the way that it did, but the friendship specifically it needed to, we needed to completely separate ourselves from each other and almost find each other by what almost feels like by accident.”

Something about that line - “finding each other by accident” makes me all gooey inside 🥹 the fact they had to rediscover each other and have came out the other side with a newfound appreciation and so much love for each other is so heartwarming.

-

Jon: “I feel like you guys are both Pokémon who evolved.”

[I&A discussing who they would be]

Ian: “I guess I’m Charmander, maybe.”

Anthony: “Yeah? You Charizard now?

Ian: “I feel kind of Charizard now. I need to like work on my upper body strength a little bit more.”

Anthony: “But you do bring the fire.”

This was just a fun little one I felt I had the include! Especially with the reference to ‘fire’, which is something a lot of us have talked about in regards to Anthony calling Ian the sun, and also his incorporation of the word in his tattoos.

-

Anthony: [talking about how Ian had invited him to collab with Smosh but he never wanted to whilst they were under Defy and that he didn’t want to come back if he would have just been an employee]

Ian: “I mean at that point like I, especially cause I had reached out and been like ‘hey we should collab’, and Anthony was always very polite…”

Anthony: [laughs]

Ian: “…but would decline. So I think at that point I had totally resigned myself to thinking that like, you know Anthony doesn’t have any interest in being in Smosh again.”

Anthony: “Did you ever take any of that personally?

Ian: “Umm…”

Anthony: “I always tried to word it in a way where you knew it wasn’t about you.”

Ian: “Yeah, no, I don’t think I ever took it personally. I think I was always like frustrated…”

Anthony: [laughs]

Ian: “…because I was like, this is, ‘we could get views man!’. It was always like-“

Anthony: “Yeah, I was almost like I don’t want to give Defy views like, it sucks though that you, obviously Smosh, it was like I didn’t mind necessarily giving the views to Smosh, but like to Defy and it’s just like a shitty situation because you were obviously under the umbrella of Defy. But you know through that whole process, Ian and I connected a little bit, but I was really kind of just observing from the outside and it was wild to witness this, I still harboured a lot of resentment towards Smosh because of all the Defy stuff, and part of me was like ‘dang, this brand that Ian and I built is just totally on its own like- not on its own, but like it’s just doing stuff that I have no, I’m not a part of it at all, it’s just like this amorphous thing that’s just like evolving, but I will say from the outside I was, I was really impressed with how Ian helmed that ship and making sure that- I was really appreciative too, that Smosh didn’t just end up going to some company that just picked it apart and sold all of our assets, sold our logo to be used in some you know way, god knows what, and then you know the content just starts showing up in all these different ways and it’s all chopped up and bastardised.”

Ian: “Like we now get to do the chopping up and bastardisation.”

Anthony: “Yeah, that’s our- that’s my god damn right! Um… but you know also I got to see Ian step up as a leader in many ways and decide on the creative direction and at a certain point I feel like you know because Ian you were so like [shrugs] ‘well you know we’re pretty [mumbles]’, like I don’t know, I think that kind of sums up the way that you kind of uh [laughs] thought about the leadership [shrugs and mumbles again giving an impression of Ian’s nonchalantness towards the leadership role], and I think that was one of the things that silently frustrated me that I never openly spoke about. I was like, ‘I wish you had more of an opinion, more of a drive to creatively, you know to see this go in the direction that you see creatively’, so when I saw from the outside Ian taking this lead and having you know opinions that he put his foot down on and leading this entire cast and elevating everyone for their strengths and also showing up himself as a host, and a leader, and a boss… and a daddy.”

Ah shit, here we go again…

The daddy thing aside, what Anthony said about watching Ian step up into that leadership role from the outside is something he’s spoken about many times and will forever be something I love. Just that recognition of the role Ian had to play for Smosh to be exactly where that is now. I love that it’s something he continually brings up and as stated in the quote above, tells Ian how he appreciates the fact he stayed with Smosh and the hard work he put in so that they could once again own what is rightfully theirs.

Anthony: “…I think that was one thing that really made me interested in the prospect of coming back in and joining forces again. I think there was a while, especially because we didn’t communicate, where I felt like if I did come back in like ‘it would all be up to me again’ and I would have to figure everything out and you know Ian wouldn’t necessarily have the input because he’s so grateful for just being there in the first place that he wouldn’t necessarily want to put his foot down but I saw that would be something that you would take, you know help me take the lead on and it’s been really cool coming back together and feeling like we are two entities who are completely on the same page with everything but also we can separate from each other every once and a while and take our own lead in doing things working towards the same goal, but I didn’t feel like it was all on my shoulders anymore, Ian had, you were forced into that position, and you were forced to learn very quickly, but you did, and now we’re able to run this thing as a duo who also have independent ideas and you know creatively are able to put our foot down where it needs to.”

-

Jon: [asks why Anthony decided to come back despite having his own success independently]

Anthony: [talks about seeing old clips of their sketches online and how he had resigned himself to thinking their old content was only good because of the nostalgia making him imagine it fondly] “…but watching the clips I was like ‘wait, our writing…’ , there was obviously a lot of shitty stuff, but our writing at times was really, really solid and our, the chemistry we had together off-camera and on-camera was really strong, and we fit together in this way where we kind of balanced each other out and we were able to create stuff that was really, really solid that I hadn’t found in anyone else separately. I’d found also that Ian you told me you also realised the same thing, that the way that we work together is kind of like this magical combination that we haven’t really found anywhere else.”

They make me fucking SOB 😭 I cannot resist when they talk about their connection with one another and the chemistry they have together, and how it’s something they’ve never found in anyone else. It’s so special. THEY WERE MADE FOR EACH OTHER!

-

Ian: [talking about how they want to make content they believe in and not just to make money and how their focus now is quality over quantity]

Anthony: [agrees and talks about how their approach is on being excited about the content itself and what viewers would most love to see rather than thinking of only pleasing the inventors like it was in the past with Defy]

Jon: “Yeah, it’s amazing how, I mean feelings matter when it comes to a creative business.”

Anthony: “Yeah, especially when you’re operating from a creative place, you know it’s not, we’re not just in the operations of the business, in fact I think it’s really good that we are, you know our faces are attached to it, our creative endeavours are fully public, our friendship is public. All these things, you know I feel like if all these things weren’t fully visible I could see some world where I’m like well, you know operating from a place of like ‘we’re just investors’, but I’m really glad that we, we’re in the same position now that we were in when we first started, which is us being two really, really close friends who love making each other laugh, love spending time together, love creating stuff together, love capturing the magic that we feel when we’re hanging out together and enjoying our time together and displaying that for other people to enjoy as well.”

Oh look, it’s me crying again 😩

I know I already included this quote earlier in this post, but of course had to touch on it again. It truly was just a roundabout way of Anthony saying ‘we’re two really, really close friends who love each other.’ But also talking about how they feel it’s ‘magic’ when they’re together and how they want to share that with others 🥹😭

-

Ian: [talks about how great the efficiency of the Smosh office space is]

Anthony: “It’s really cool, we almost have a blank slate to build out this place and make it work perfectly for exactly what we need and when we have multiple other channels; we have Smosh Pit, which is the channel where a group of people, you know we have a cast of really incredible people that helped in many ways keep the Smosh brand alive while I was gone, and you know Ian you helped elevate all of these really talented people and performers.”

A little 2 for 1 compliment from Anthony there, both for the cast and for Ian, of course. Again, something he’s mentioned before and think it’s really great how much he recognises everyone’s efforts in keeping Smosh going as well as Ian’s.

-

[I&A alking about their writing process]

Anthony: “I’ll be sitting there with the laptop writing out all our ideas. We’ll kind of be, lately because this is this very early stages, we’ll go back through some of our old videos, I’m like ‘here I really like that one element of this old sketch, this kind of idea’ and it’s usually like us going head to head on something, us working together to solve a problem, us going against some kind of like- us joining forces to go against some kind of evil thing, or us like trying to one up each other, and mess with each other, and ruin each other’s day, like we’ll figure out one kind of a through-line for the plot and then we just start throwing out a bunch of ideas. But I’ll start writing it out and then Ian will, he always gets, like actually the thing that always happens is Ian goes [imitates Ian’s laugh] ‘this is a really stupid idea’ and I’m like ‘what is it?’ [fakes typing] and I’m ready to type it out and he tells me the idea and it’s usually really, really funny, and if it’s not then I usually get an idea, I’m like ‘okay, I see where you’re going with that but I don’t think that works because of this, I think that we could go somewhere down here’ and I think that the interesting part of that process is it doesn’t ever seem like any of us is just like ‘no, that’s stupid’ or anything like that…”

Again, another thing Anthony continually brings up is the “stupid” (according to Ian) ideas that Ian throws out. Which are something he’s mentioned being his favourite, and how those are the ones he’s always most excited/intrigued for.

Anthony: [continues on about their writing process and how he’s in charge of the formatting and feels he’s good at picking out which ideas work and which don’t]

Ian: “Yeah, and I think some people would get- could get frustrated at something like that but I think Anthony and I have a specific shorthand, and I think we understand each other in a way that we never other found creative partners that quite clicked with us like we do in the time that we were apart. I feel like I didn’t quite, I felt like I was kind of like operating at like 70% and I never, like I still had great people that I was working with and really, really funny people that I was working with, but I never felt like I was contributing at a level that I should’ve been, that I can with Anthony.”

Once more them bringing up this connection with one another that they’ve never found with anyone else. I’ve said it so many times, but it’s so special. And Ian and Anthony realise how special it is.

-

Jon: [asks if the change in the algorithm is something they think about when writing jokes that could ruin monetisation for them and how they protect themselves against that]

Anthony: “Yeah, every once and a while we run into something where we’re like ‘that’s pushing it a little bit’ and what we do because we have the backup of having memberships, it gives us a little bit of leeway to be like ‘but that’s the funniest joke.’ But I think it’s actually really interesting and one thing that Ian and I do really well, is we work really well with limitations, like the more limited something gets, as long as I have freedom within that limitation, I think that our stuff gets really strong. In the early days we were literally making things out of cardboard, we created you know that Boxman character because we didn’t have any budget all we had was- we were looking around for props in my bedroom and we have this cardboard box there, like we work really well within like confined spaces and every once and a while it’s like ‘oh that joke it’s kind of pushing it in a way that might not really do well, it could get the video just like- not even just demonetised but blacklisted and like then the audience doesn’t even see it’ and we’re like ‘is there a funnier way to do this that still works?’ and 9 times out of 10 we think of a funnier idea that I’m like ‘if I were given these two options I would choose this one anyway’ so it doesn’t feel like a compromise, it feels like a bonus.”

You know I live for the individual compliments they give to one another, but every so often we get these compliments where they compliment themselves as well as the other and I love it because it goes back to their dynamic again and how well they work together to solve issues as a team.

-

[I&A watch old news clip of them from 2006 when they were creating the first Food Battle]

Anthony: “… but it was so cool, you know that was, that literally showed where the first videos that we ever made happened; It was in my bedroom at my mom’s house, and that is what our life was like, just sitting there on the computer getting excited about ideas and I think Ian was the one that suggested the ‘2006’, you know so I was there implementing these ideas and I would have a great time editing these things and learning how to edit in the process and Ian would, because he wasn’t editing, his brain was free to come up with all these insane ideas and he was like ‘oh do 2006 and have it crash together!’ and then I learned how to make the graphics come on-screen and like all these explosions and sound effects and I think that showed the dynamic between us, of me sitting there implementing these ideas and finding a way to one-up or guide some of the ideas, throw out the stuff that didn’t work super well, telling him like ‘I think we could do better with that one’ and Ian just sitting there and spitballing ideas and it’s just really cool to see that.”

And again, more talk of their dynamic. It’s definitely one of the things they recognise most about their connection with each other, and how it balances them and the way they work out so perfectly.

-

Jon: “The number 6 seems to be really important in your journey.”

[I&A laugh]

Jon: “I don’t know what is up with that, but 2005 you guys uploaded your first video. 2011, 6 years later, you sold. 6 years after that, 2017, you [Anthony] left. 6 years later, you guys bought it back. And I think it was 6 years and 6 days to the date, when I was looking at it…”

Anthony: “For the announcement? Yeah.”

Jon: “For the announcement.”

Anthony: “None of those things were planned to be 6 years. It just was.”

Ian: “Was it in June too?”

Anthony: “Yup.”

Ian: “Sixth month.”

Yes!! I was so excited when this was brought up! Gonna refer you guys back to this post I made about Angel Numbers. Know it’s not the type of thing everyone believes in, but I don’t think anyone can deny there is a pattern there with them and the number 6. And it’s something they notice themselves too.

-

Anthony: [talking about comments of people finding that same joyful absurdity in Smosh sketches again that they felt when they were kids] “I think a lot of us got kind of trapped in this cycle of looking at really dark content for a long time, and we started to feel like the world was a dark and scary place and just kind of feel shitty, and creating this stuff and consuming this type of content I hope it can help remind people that there is a little bit of light in the world, and capturing, like having that special dynamic with a friend, or with a group of friends is really special.”

“having that special dynamic with a friend” just wanted to point out that he looked over at Ian when he said this 🥹

And with one last reiteration of their special dynamic, that brought us to the end of the interview.

Submissive and Breedable

Yes. It is time to talk about ‘that’ moment. And don’t tell me there wasn’t something complimentary in it! That’s why I’m including it. Anyways, yes, Anthony called Ian “submissive and breedable” 🫠

You’ve all probably seen the clip by now but just to provide the context anyways. In the BTS they’re sitting on the couch together and Ian jokes about not being able to get up :-

Ian: “I’m almost 40, I can barely get up. Help… help… help…”

Anthony: “You’re on your own.” [laughs] “Why do you look so submissive and breedable right now?”

I hate him, I really do (affectionate) 🤦‍♀��

So yeah, that was a thing that happened… 👀

Stuck In A Toilet - Flashback w/ Smosh

After a week of Twitter shenanigans (x)(x)(x)(x)(x)(x) (x) and a roundabout way of promoting Food Battle, we got another eps of Flashback. This is when they were beginning to get sick but I don’t think realised they had covid yet. Anthony wasn’t too bad but Ian was sneezing and yawning throughout it. The one little complimentary moment I wanted to include was from one of those moments where Ian yawned and Anthony reached over to rub his shoulder which was very sweet ☺️ I actually posted the clip here for anyone interested.

-

Another small little moment that I took as complimentary happened towards the end of the video was them discussing their old hairstyles and Ian was asked whether he’d ever bring the bowl back and he said that he doesn’t think his hair has the same thickness so he doesn’t think he’d be able to achieve it. He then tries to style his hair back into a bowl :-

Anthony: “Oh shit, he’s doing it! He’s doing it!”

Ian: “My hair’s pretty long right now.”

Anthony: “Yeah, you can do it. I really think you’d be able to rock it just the same.”

Just love how Anthony’s always bigging him up to make him feel more confident LIKE YES! YOU TELL HIM ANTHONY!

Extended Livestream

So this livestream was to make up for the few that they’d missed. They had a lot to cover, including the “submissive and breedable” moment :-

[chat comment: ‘Is Ian looking submissive and breedable right now?’]

Anthony: [looks Ian up and down] “Yes.”

Ian: “You think so? Aw, shoot.”

Anthony: “Yes, he really do be looking submissive and breedable right now.”

Anthony needs to relax, I swear 😩 (we love it tho)

-

[reacting to Ian pulling out a hammer in the Cursed Magic 8 Ball sketch]

Anthony: “This was such a random moment. This was definitely an Ian joke, I love it though.”

He truly loves that boy’s humour so much, it’s one of his most favourite things about him ☺️

-

[talking about Anthony’s hideout in the sketch]

Anthony: “The secret hideout looked cozy as fuck.”

Ian: “Yeah, dude. It was hot as hell in there too, right?”

Anthony: “It was hot though, yeah, cause there were lights obviously. So these Christmas lights were not LED so they were producing a lot of heat and uh, my body, quite warm…”

Ian: “Cause you’re, submissive and breedable…”

Anthony: “Yes. Yes, Ian.”

THEYRE SO ANNOYING 😩 just had to include this moment since the shoe was on the other foot and it was Ian’s turn to call Anthony the now infamous quote.

-

[chat comment: Ian’s gone from looking like a depressed middle-aged dad to super happy and sparkling]

Anthony: “Awww, you’re sparkling.”

That’s right Anthony! And it’s all because of you 🥹 he lets him Bejeweled ✨

-

[signing out the livestream and Ian says he still has covid brain because he can’t get his word out]

Anthony: [talking about seeing everyone in the next livestream] “And until then, I will nurse Ian back to health.”

Ian: “Please. I am submissive and healable.”

🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

Very cute how Anthony said he’d nurse him back to health though.

And on that note, that brought us to the end of October…

November 2023

Food Battle Trailer Watch Party + Tier List

So November rolled around and it was time for Food Battle promo. In this livestream they watched the 2023 trailer, plus ranked all the previous Food Battle’s. And in it we got this moment :-

[reacting to this still]

Ian: “Yo, that butt though.”

Anthony: “Yeah, that donk goes hard.”

Okay Anthony… 👀😏

Food Battle 2006 VS 2016 (Flashback w/ Smosh)

So this Flashback they had Courtney and Chanse on for, in which we got this moment :-

[watching Food Battle 2016]

Ian: “This hair though. Not a vibe.”

Chase: “The hair’s not a vibe.”

Courtney: “You figured it out.”

Ian: “That’s Ghostmates. That’s Ghostmates hair.”

Chanse: “You figured it out now.”

Anthony: “Oh, you figured it out, daddy.”

He does this to torture me I tell you.

Also I’m all for Courtney’s suggestion at the end of the video for them to stare into each other’s eyes for 4 minutes whilst calling each other ‘daddy’. Just tell us how many views to make it happen boys!

We Roast Anthony With Memes (Who Meme’d It)

I have been dying to talk about this! Because it was a crossover of all my favourite people Ian and Anthony + Taylor 🙌 I actually made a video out of these moments here. So they had Anthony on ‘Who Meme’d It’ with Courtney and Angela, along with a lot of the cast and crew watching from the sidelines.

One of the memes was this one comparing Ian and Anthony to Taylor and Travis, and Angela explains the meaning behind it to Anthony about the whole ‘Taylor put Travis on the map’ meme and how people only started caring about him when he started dating Taylor, and in this meme they were comparing Ian to Travis and Anthony to Taylor 😭

But Anthony was not having that!

Anthony: “That’s not fair to Ian. That’s messed up. Ian carried this company for 6 years!”

You tell ‘em Anthony! 😤

But yes I was living for the crossover plus Anthony defending Ian on top of that! It was like that moment was specifically curated for me 😌

-

Another moment of Anthony defending Ian in the video was when the meme about Ian’s very limited clothing options popped up 🤭

Again, Anthony was not having it :-

Anthony: [laughing] “That is fucked!”

Ian: [comes out to compare the current shirt he’s wearing to the one’s in the picture]

Anthony: “He has a fourth [shirt].”

Ian: “No, that’s a different shirt [on the board].”

Anthony: “Yeah, there’s no pocket on that one.”

Ian: “Yeah, see the no pocket?” Different shirt. Different shirt.”

Anthony: “Wow, Ian has five shirts.”

Love Anthony sticking up for him here! Just like shouting over everyone else to be in his corner, it’s very sweet ☺️

Food Battle 2023 Watch Party

Food Battle 2023 finally arrived and of course we got a livestream with the boys which included some complimentary moments :-

Ian was unhappy with how his hair looked in the scenes where they were on the roof in Food Battle because the wind was blowing it. He mentioned this in the stream and Anthony kept trying to reassure him that it was fine and saying his own hair was messed up 🥺

Ian: “I just hate how the direction of this wind was blowing was not ideal, I did not take that into consideration when we set up this shot.”

Anthony: “Yeah, Ian was not happy that his hair was all fucked up.”

Ian: “My hair is massively fucked for this entire [scene].”

Anthony: “But I was like it works for the final scene.”

Ian: “Yeah, it like makes me look insane, that’s fine.”

Anthony: “Well me too, when I stand up. I’ll show you in a bit. I’ll point it out.”

…

[watching the bit in question]

Anthony: “I look insane with my hair there.”

Ian: “Yeah, but, you think your hair looks insane. Look at this, look at this bullshit. What is that?”

Anthony: “It just looks like the wind’s blowing on you. Or it looks like you’re like an infant in a cartoon and that’s how they draw your hair.”

Ian: “What even is that? What would you even call this?”

Anthony: “The floof. The wispy floof.”

Just love Anthony trying to make him feel better 🥹

-

[cuts to the end screen and the close up shot of Ian and Anthony’s asses in the BTS]

Anthony: “Oh. Oh man. No, it’s so good.”

Anthony’s got a thing for Ian’s assets 😏

And in saying that it leads me on to the last compliment from this stream :-

-

We finally got Anthony’s thoughts of Ian in the maid outfit :-

Anthony: “Okay, alright, thoughts on the maid outfit.”

Ian: “What do you mean thoughts on the maid outfit?”

Anthony: “I thought it was a pretty good outfit.”

Ian: “Yeah, it’s hot. I think we both agree on that.”

Anthony: “It accentuates all the right places.”

Told you he loves Ian’s assets 🤭

Try Not To Laugh Challenge - Ian’s Birthday

So Anthony along with the cast, crew and some special guests done a TNTL for Ian’s birthday, it included multiple moments of them cheering, clapping and celebrating him but a lot of their bits were roasts to him, but of course his bestie came through as always :-

[Anthony comes out for his bit and starts playing music from the keyboard]

Anthony: “Hey, so you know when you found out that we were going to be buying Smosh back and you decided to get hot.”

Posted a clip of this moment here.

Have nothing more to add, what Anthony said speaks for itself.

Zach Sang Show Interview

So the boys went on the Zach Sang show and covered a lot of different topics and talked about their YouTube journey, and of course their reuniting was brought up :-

Dan: “How did you guys reconnect? Like who reached out to who? Or did you guys sit down one day together?”

Ian: “A friend of mine, I was talking to her about Anthony and she was like ‘you should reach out to him, like what are you doing’.”

Anthony: “What were you saying to her about me? Like ‘oh this old friend of mine’.”

Ian: “Well cause I was like telling her about, I was telling her about Smosh and you know talking about you and yeah I think she could kind of like saw, you know there’s still like, I still, you know I spoke fondly of you and everything, so she was like ‘you should get back together with him’.”

I know we already knew this story, but now with the inclusion of the fact that Ian was speaking fondly about Anthony is so sweet to hear 🥹

-

Zach: “What have you learned about each other from this second Smosh chapter? Or whatever you would describe it, this… rekindling? Or resurrection?”

Anthony: “One thing that stands out to me is how much Ian was forced to step up into the leader position, cause you know for so many years as we were working together, you know Ian was really like ‘go with the flow’, and that’s where we actually excelled was that dynamic between us, was I would take a little bit more of the leadership role, little bit more like rigid, like ‘get this thing done. figure out this thing. I have this to-do list and these goals’ and I was like kinda doing that kind of thing, all the programming and stuff. While Ian was a lot more focused on just being creative and shooting out ideas, and that’s where I think the dynamic between us really flourished, but now, you know I’ve kinda been, because I’ve been off on my own I’ve been forced to kind of hone in on that creative, go with the flow side, while Ian’s been forced to hone in on that leadership mentality, and I think it’s really cool to see that side of both of us flourish.”

Know we’ve also heard this multiple times before, but I just love when Anthony admires how much Ian stepped up into that leadership role after he left, even though it wasn’t what Ian necessarily wanted. But that recognition now from Anthony is such growth, and I love how it’s something he continually points out and praises him for.

Ian: [talks about how he felt he was thrown into the deep end to be a leader when Anthony left, and even though it was hard he’s glad he stuck with Smosh as he still saw the potential it had]

Anthony: “Yeah, and I really respect Ian pulling Smosh through just so many years of all that difficulty, kind of like tredging through this like swamp with this company and turning it, and keeping it alive, keeping it thriving, creating new formats and shows and highlighting the cast and you know growing it into what it became when I decided that you know it was time, we could do this again, and I think in the final years of me being at Smosh I started to resent everything. I started to resent you know the parent company and kind of what they turned Smosh into, and how Ian and I lost our friendship in some ways because of it, but also because of ourselves, and I think because I in part of that I was resenting Ian in part of that, I think I forgot to really respect and honour the work that Ian had put into it, and I think part of me because I felt like so much of it was out of my control and you know I felt like ‘if it was all in my control this would have been fine’ you know what kind of a story that I built in my head, so I think I started to resent Ian and the way that the company had went so it was really cool to be watching from a distance and as I started to reconnect with Ian and everything to kind of start to understand that mindset that he had, why he stuck around, what he has built it into, and you know growing into this leadership position and taking all these roles on that he didn’t want and you know all these positions that I felt like I was thrown into Ian was now being thrown into…”

Again, that recognition for all Ian’s hard work and about how difficult it must’ve been for him to be thrown into that role when he left.

Anthony: [talks about how he feels his upbringing affected him resenting and being frustrated with that leadership role when he was at Smosh because of the responsibilities he had to take on for his family due to his mom’s agoraphobia] “So I felt like I dealt with Smosh like that to a certain degree and I think that part of me was trying to have Ian be like co-running it entirely, like 50/50 and I got in my head like ‘it needs to be 50/50’ because I think that I wanted that kind of in my childhood home, so because Ian was so much more focused on being more creative and in many ways keeping Smosh fun, which I feel is at the heart of Smosh, I think a part of me resented Ian for not taking on that leadership role with me as much, and you know I think one element of us reconnecting is Ian really has taken on that leadership role and I don’t feel it’s on my shoulders anymore to that same degree and Smosh, you know Ian kept Smosh alive and thriving for 6 years while I was gone, I don’t feel now like it’s hanging on by a thread that I’m holding on to, it feels like it can live and thrive on it’s own and Ian’s there to back me up whenever I need it.

I’ll forever love this dynamic between them now, again it’s something we’ve heard from them before, how they share that leadership now. I’m so glad they have that in each other, because as they’ve spoken about, it’s a lonely job being the boss, so having a partner in that, someone who is your equal to share that load with makes all the difference, which is something we’ve seen manifest over and over again, especially in regards to Ian, and it’s something he’s spoken about himself, just how much happier he is that he knows he has Anthony there backing him up. I just think it’s so special that they have that in each other.

Daddy 2.0

So everyone has been simping for Ian in his priest costume for Anthony’s Funeral Roast, and rightfully so :-

Andrew Scott who?

And of course Mr No.1 Ian simp himself, Mr Anthony Padilla is at the forefront :-

Numerous other Smosh members commented on the post, but Chanse and Amanda’s were the thirstiest two :-

And who was out here lurking in Ian’s comments liking each and every one including those^^ two…

Real subtle as always, Anthony 🤭

Ian’s Birthday

Just wanted to include a little bit about Ian’s birthday since I did for Anthony’s, and similar to his, it was more complimentary-by-extension, but still as utterly cute ☺️

Of course as his No.1 fan this day must be just as equally exciting for Anthony - a full day to celebrate Ian! (Not that he doesn’t do that every day tho)

We got this adorable birthday post from Ian of Anthony giving him his gift :-

Of course inspired by the recurring joke created by Shayne in this video that Ian is Chumbawamba’s No.1 fan 😄

And Anthony’s comment

‘Birthday boy’ gets me 🥹

Another sweet little moment from the day was this video that I posted here of the cast and crew bringing Ian a cake and singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to him, I put this in my tags at the time, but notice how Anthony’s right in there front and centre to celebrate him 😭 It’s also the first birthday Anthony has properly been able to celebrate with him in so long given they had only just re-connected before Ian’s birthday last year so things were still new, so I’m sure this time around it was so special for them to be able to celebrate both their birthdays together for the first time in so many years 🥰

And with that, that brings us to an end on October and November. One more month left of this year and I can’t wait to see what that’ll bring us. I’ll see you guys next time 💖

[laufire]

several sentences sunday

I asked for people to send me key words so I’d share excerpts from my WIPs where they appear. I decided to post them all together, for this weeks SSS :P

@gecemi09 asked for the wip guessing game, 'died'?

Taken from my (Jay)Mia fic set a few years down the line in the new earth continuity. The plot so far is basically 1) Mia’s character development, 2) Jaymia romance LOL. This was inspired by tt03 #31, where Mia displays some knowledge of past Teen Titans that leads me to believe she really did her research.

The second Robin hadn’t died as a Teen Titan, the way Aquagirl or Phantasm did, but Mia had once read on him and his time just the same as on the others. He’d revealed himself as Red Hood to other heroes shortly after Mia’s debut on the team, when he came to size his successor up in the Tower, and Mia had thought that face-heel turn more tragic than what Brother Blood did when he paraded the corpses of the other fallen teens. She thought about it, now. Robin had died. It was something she never could quite wrap her head around with Ollie, who she’d meant fresh out of the grave and by all accounts largely unchanged. It was somehow easier to do it with Jason; when death changed nothing, it was rendered meaningless. After all, that was the reason why, every year, Mia made sure to remember Albert Davis.

@hellispeacefullandempty asked: Gonna give you fire and sorrow for the WIP guessing game

For fire, have something from my Jason Survives series (which I’ve named “No Death in the Family”, Because).

The first thing Jason felt once he finally woke up was the phantom licks of the fire on his skin. A pained whine escaped through his lips, alerting whoever remained in the room with him. “Ja- baby?” a woman’s trembling voice said, “Are you awake?” Sheila’s palm burned against his wrist.

And for sorrow, something from my Jaytim Ghost WIP.

In his dreams, Tim was the one burrowed inside Jason’s costume, Jason’s body. Instead of standing in front of the memorial, from the outside looking in, he was trapped inside the glass. Immobile, on display, a mute scream tearing through his throat in abject sorrow.

@missbrunettebarbie asked: For the fic game: power

From my Jason & Duke Wild West Adventures WIP. BTW, I consider it… roughly in the same timeline as this one, and other “future canon” ideas where I have some character developments set in stone (in this case, Duke’s introduction in the preboot continuity + his dynamic with Jason), but they’re meant to stand on their own.

“Don’t you think it’d be a waste to kill someone to save me, if by doing so you fuck up the timeline so much there’s nowhen to go back to?” Duke snarked, almost perfunctorily. In matters that concerned Duke, Jason had always made his priorities clear. As reassuring as it could be to know where he stood with the man, Duke always resented such displays of one-sided overprotectiveness. Maybe, especially, from Jason. He seemed too busy to reply, examining the stolen guns with a conflicted expression. If Duke had to guess, Jason was divided between mourning the loss of modern functionality and appreciating how fucking cool the cowboy aesthetic looked on him. “We don’t know shit about how this works, kid,” he finally answered. “The timeline could splint, or we might’ve always been meant to come here and do whatever it is we end up doing. A bullet on your head? We know how that works. Besides, all that is moot point until we find someone with the power to take us out of here.”

thanks to everyone who sent an ask ^-^

[narrycherries]

🌟🌟 ↓ ↓ EXCITING NEWS ↓ ↓ 🌟🌟

After contemplating this for the past few months, I have decided to start posting a full length story. I haven’t posted a whole story like this in years (and I’ve never done one on tumblr!) so, check the teaser photos out down below & and some little details! More to come in the new couple of weeks! reserve a spot on the tag list for this story!! ⭐️⭐️⭐️ PREVIEW HERE

“love of my life”

- by narrycherries

So I usually don’t read stories where Harry’s actually “Harry Styles” (or well, what we all perceive as Harry styles) and it’s been ages since I wrote a full story where he is “himself” - with that being said, this will be a “famous Harry” story but it will still be alternative universe (one example: no covid pandemic - we had to love through that, I don’t want my fictional characters to 😭)

Of course, while I am saying this is “Harry styles” I’ll be writing him in the way I want, and things will be different - but I reallyyyyy love his character in this story and I hope you’ll feel the Same way!

I really love this story so far (I’m pretty deep into it.. I work on it a lot) and I’m excited to see how you all respond to it :) I’ve been working on it for nearly three years.. I’ve reworked the concept, changed the title several times, etc but it’s at a point now where I want people to read it and I want to share it! 🩷

I am doing some tests on how I want to lay it out on here, so be patient! It is coming!!!

When I open my patreon back up, the updates will be available as early access - but it will be available on here no matter what!

⭐️⭐️ I’m going all out for this! There will be more photos and little teasers coming, as well as a playlist. If you want to be included in the new tag list for this, leave a comment or send me a message! ⭐️⭐️

-> The second teaser post will include tags, more images, a collage, and some songs from the playlist! As well as a short excerpt from the story!

[diaday333]

Hymns/prayers for the Dead

I’ve never really considered reading/ writing hymns for the dead because I guess I never “needed” them, but with the tragic events going on the world right now, multiple gen-c-des and atrocities, I’ve felt moved to write these. Like I said in my last prayer post, keep speaking up, b0yc0tting, and keep praying! You can technically apply these prayers with any dead, but I had the m@rtyrs of Su-dan, Con- go, Ethiopia, and Pale - stine (breaking them up on purpose) in mind, as well as anyone else who have lost their lives due to the terrible events going on in this world and from their oppression. Also, sorry for any spelling or grammar errors.

—————————————————————————————————————

We call to Hermes Kαταιβάτης (he who leads souls down to the underworld), guider of souls. Immortal guide, lover of humankind, you take special care of us when we leave this earth, and your involvement shows the Gods’ love of humankind, as there is a God with us every step of the way, even after our deaths. Gracious God, during these times we ask for your grace, and for you to take extra care of the souls that find their way past the river Styx. Everyday now, thousands of people die from acts of cruelty from oppressors emboldened by hubris. We ask you to treat these souls with added care, especially those of children, taken from life too early, while you escort them to the dread queen's home or wherever their final resting place may lie. Charm them with your wand and bless their heavy eyelids, bringing them a peaceful end for their final rest. Oh Lord, guider of mortals, grant a sacred end to those who lived the best they could.

(Greek pronunciation: Kah-teh-vah-tiis(ees))

—————————————————————————————————————

To the Savior of the dead and the noble queen herself, we call to you! Dread Persephone and shadowy Hades, though you may not take every soul into your wide walls, you watch over the dead nonetheless, those who wander your fields of flowers. We thank you for your mercy towards our souls, notably of the most restless ones. We ask that they can find joy in the afterlife, especially those who were robbed of it. Not only do you take in these souls, Lovely Persephone, you exact justice on their behalf, with your kindly attendants, or daughters in some ways, the Erinyes, especially during these harrowing times. All we ask is for justice and a peaceful afterlife for the many martyred people of all the atrocities going on. We thank you, Hades and fair-tressed Persephone!

—————————————————————————————————————

“Fear the prayers of the oppressed.” I heard that today and I thought it fit. The Gods are with us and the oppressed during these times 🤲 They hear every prayer and they are outraged as we are. Keep up every action and don’t forget about our fellow humans suffering and don’t stop fighting!! No act of oppression goes past them and they hear everything. It’s been almost a year for Su-Dan, almost 6 months, 160+ days for Pale - stine, and years for Con-go. The Gods count each day and count each person who say and do nothing. I just want add some of my favorite excerpts that get me through these hard times and reminds me that the Gods care (which we already knew, but yknow).

“The gods are not blind to men with blood upon their hands. In the end the black (kelainai) Erinyes bring to obscurity that one who has prospered in unrighteousness and wear down his fortunes by reverse.” - Aeschylus, “Agamemnon”

“Hear, Tisiphone, Allekte, noble Megaira, revered goddesses whose Bacchic cries resound. Nocturnal and clandestine, you live deep down in the dank cave by the sacred water of the Styx. Men's unholy designs do incur your anger; rabid and arrogant, you howl over Necessity's dictates, clothed in animal skins, you cause the deep pains of retribution.” - (First part of) Orphic hymn 69

“Hear me and be gracious, 0 renowned Eumenides, O pure daughters of the great Chthonic Zeus and of lovely Persephone, fair-tressed maiden. Over the lives of impious mortals you keep a careful eye, in charge of Necessity, you punish the unjust.”

(First part of) Orphic hymn 70

“For whoever knows the right and is ready to speak it, far-seeing Zeus gives him prosperity…” - Hesiod “Work and days”

“You princes, mark well this punishment you also; for the deathless gods are near among men and mark all those who oppress their fellows with crooked judgements, and reck not the anger of the gods. For upon the bounteous earth Zeus has thrice ten thousand spirits, watchers of mortal men, and these keep watch on judgements and deeds of wrong as they roam, clothed in mist, all over the earth. And there is virgin Justice, the daughter of Zeus, who is honoured and reverenced among the gods who dwell on Olympus, and whenever anyone hurts her with lying slander, she sits beside her father, Zeus the son of Cronos, and tells him of men's wicked heart, until the people pay for the mad folly of their princes who, evilly minded, pervert judgement and give sentence crookedly.” - Hesiod “Works and Days”

[universe-friday]

EXCERPT #19:

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

Old sport! Ah! I have such a story to tell you!

You must remember that Thalia is a DJ, right? Which is so cool! …Even if I don’t often visit clubs personally.

Well, we were hanging out again recently and she tells me she managed to book a gig as a supporting act!

I was so, so excited. I told her I was going to buy flowers, toss them on the stage as she gives her final bow, cheer the loudest, and be the biggest supporter in that crowd.

But when she told me when it was…Oh, old sport, I felt so bad when I had to tell her I was busy.

I apologised over and over. I reassured her over and over, that I will still be that biggest supporter… I’ll just have to give her the flowers after the show…

Being Thalia, she laughs and tells me not to stress so hard. Which, as she should know by now, is something I have no idea how to do.

I told her she was right. Because there would always be a next show, and maybe someday, even her headliner. It was only until I said that when she told me off…

[…]

When the day of the show came, I made sure to wish Thalia the best of luck when I could, before I set off on my own plans that day… To a concert!

This band that I have been obsessed with from day one, the first ever time they played at this carnival. Since that day, they have grown to be so much popular, so, of course, it gets harder day by day to talk to them.

Let me tell you, old sport, I would just talk their ears off… about how much their music has inspired me, how much it just lifts me up every time I listen to it. Never mind whenever the opportunity to hear them live strikes, I swear, I could ascend to heaven every time.

I’m lucky to get a good spot in the crowd, second or third row, though I remember when it used to be so easy to get barrier… I start to wonder if they ever remembered my face.

The lines dimmed and everyone starts screaming. It’s funny, old sport, how people scream at any small movements at concerts, knowing full well the main act doesn’t come on for another hour.

I’ve always enjoyed the openers for this band, as they choose artists they really enjoy personally, and they have an undoubtedly good taste in music.

Which is why I shouldn’t have been surprised when I saw a very familiar pink head of hair enter the stage…

I scream Thalia’s name in amongst the varied cheers from the crowd, and she looks up right at me. Her face reads of total confusion, as well as mine, yet we were equally as overjoyed as one another.

[…]

After Thalia’s set, I get a message from her. A rare occasion, as we both agree against trusting these forms of communication, since the City monitors it 24/7.

She tells me to meet her at the bar. Despite my good space in the crowd, I decided to head back to talk to her. Really, old sport, I wanted to tell her how good her set was. She really knew how to hype up a crowd.

Instead of talking, however, Thalia nods her head towards a door. Before I get to say anything, she’s already walked through.

As we walk down this hallway, I am asking Thalia so many questions.

‘How did you do this?’ and, ‘You know this is my favourite band, right?’ and, ‘How!?’

Yet, Thalia just stayed silent. The whole time we’re walking, I’m asking and asking, and only do I stop in my tracks when we make our way to the door at the end of the hallway.

The door lies halfway open, and within seconds, I saw them all.

The band I have adored for years, all sitting right in front of me. Even the drummer, my favourite in the group, was laying on the couch with his boyfriend; who himself is an infamous professional rugby player.

Thalia introduces me, but I have no clue what to say. I had so many questions, so many thoughts. Yet, all of them at once leave my head in that very moment.

As I muster up the courage, I eventually got to talk to them. Questions came back to me, and these were truly lovely people; who did recognise me!

I thanked Thalia for hours and hours after the gig. And yes, she did get her flowers.

[…]

If only I could find the right people to meet you again, February. I’d queue for hours to see you again. Wait at the stage door even just to see you in passing, to get a glimpse of you again…

Yet, I also have so many questions for you too, February. But when will we ever have the time to talk? I’m running out of time, even now…

♪ There’s nothing left for us anymore Why aren’t you listening? Why aren’t you listening to me? There’s nothing left. ♪

NOTE: as inspired by the week #4 prompts of february friday events as organised by @februaryfridayevents! this week's themes were minor characters / rarepairs / crossovers! so i decided to feature a certain band in this excerpt.... wonder who...!

thank you for joining and supporting the blog throughout the february friday festivities! and thank you to @februaryfridayevents for hosting! as always, i will be back again next week <3