#and i was like damn lemme not because like black folks we gotta stick together in fandom spaces

[non-binharry]

stangolden is the one who said "real nb people are doing it BETTER" than harry in response to people believing harry could be noncis, basically invalidating those of us nb people who aren't out here like ezra miller. also their obsession with saying trans expression =/= identity is so fucking funny like imagine trying to lecture trans people on that as if we don't have that in mind with harry when we look at harry. can't believe putting a trans flag on your album and saying a woman lives inside you with she/her as the first one yoh see isn't a signal of your identity. not to mention saying we're just projecting top/bottom discourse for only mentioning blouies when as larries, these are the people in our immediate circle harassing us. but anyway, geniuslyrics including the interpretation that she is about gender were just bh stans hacking the system right? like they're just so manipulative with their wording. while some trans people don't believe harry's trans the majority IS cis transphobes and it's a fact because uhhh CIS PEOPLE ARE THE MAJORITY IN FANDOM. i'm tired of these "i'm trans and don't believe!" as if trans harries/larries aren't just a handful, and the complete majority are cis people who are uhhhh generally the majority in society lmao? stangolden is just so full of shit. they were at the forefront of demonizing the trans people who initially said harry could be trans by LYING DELIBERATELY ansbcalling us cis fetishists who thought dresses and nail polish made harry trans, and scaring the fandom into ostracizing us. but they just care sooo much about us right? they're mutuals with a bunch of harry hating ex larries and blouies who look to them for validation after openly expressing their transphobic opinions. but i guess not acknowledging that and insisting we're blindly accusing them all of transphobia for NO reason makes for a better LIE to normalize bullying against us.

[thiswasinevitableid]

winter prompt fill 5, indruck, nsfw?

5: your car slid into a snowbank and i’m the mechanic that comes to tow you

Two hours.

Two fucking hours, that’s how far this guy is from town. But because he’s three hours from the one to the west, it’s Duck’s company that got the call from AAA for a tow. On night three of what's forecasted as a week-long snowstorm.  And because it’s that kind of job, the call came in at 4:45 pm. At least he’ll get overtime for this. 

Being out of Kepler means the radio has real stations, half of them playing blocks of pop hits and the other half blaring Christmas carols. Duck doesn’t mind either, settles on listening to crooning about sleigh bells and winter wonderlands as he tries to keep the truck from sliding into snow piles. 

He’s all prepared to be aggravated at whoever was clueless enough to get themselves stranded and stick him with the four hour round-trip, but the closer he gets to his destination the more he sympathizes. Because this is a rural two-lane highway and not a major through-road, the maintenance is spotty at best. Couple that with the still-falling snow and he’s just glad the guy was in the kind of accident where he could still make a call after it.

The last half-hour he’s down to thirty miles an hour, lets out a groan of relief when the dead  taillights of a car reflect back at him. Once he positions the truck and hops out, he rolls his eyes; the sedan doesn’t have snow tires or chains on, something even a person with a Nevada license plate should have known to carry north.

Duck wonders if being unprepared is a habit when the driver steps out in far too light a coat for the weather, shuddering and stuttering out an “Th-thank g-goodness.”

“Guessin you’re Mr. Wilde?” 

Pale hair falls over red glasses as the man nods. With his hood up, he looks owlish, guarded. He’s all limbs and edges, and Duck can’t help but think of a stray cat that needs a warm bed and some food. 

“Go ahead and get up into the passenger seat. Heat ain’t runnin, but it’s sure as heck warmer than out here. I’ll get her hitched up and we can get going.”

Another nod, the man hunching forward as he scurries into the truck. This is the easy part, getting the damaged car hooked to the truck and freeing it from the snow. The hard part comes when they turn towards town, two hours of darkness and icy roads ahead of them. 

“I’m so sorry you had to come all this way. I, ah, did not intend to crash, nor to do so this far from help.”

“Hey, it’s what we’re here for. Gonna be slow goin on the way back, since it’ll be real fuckin embarassin to call a tow truck for a tow truck.”

A snicker, “I picture them as growing exponentially larger, like nesting dolls. A tow truck towing a tow truck towing a tow truck towing a car would be the size of a semi.”

Duck chuckles, “Yeah, it’d be a sight. And a fuckin nightmare for anyone who got behind it.”

The cab is warming nicely, so his passenger pulls back his hood. In the darkness he can tell the pale hair is metallic silver, and there’s a hell of a bruise blooming on his forehead. Duck’s never seen anyone quite like him, and if their survival didn’t depend on his concentration, he’d spend the next hour studying him.

“Damn, got banged up in the crash huh.”

“Yes.” The man gingerly touches the bruise, sighs, “It’s my own fault for being careless.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, nearly spun out on the way to get you from the damn black ice.”

“I wish I could say that was the sole cause, but I was also asleep.”

Duck bites back the urge to scold him; he wants him to be comfortable around him and besides, even if Duck is having a crappy night, this guy is having an even worse one.

“Wouldn’t be the first person who thought they could make it one more town before stoppin for the night and was wrong.”

“True. It’s just that, ah, I’ve been driving three days straight without sleep.”

“Jesus Christ, you on the lamb or somethin?”

In his periphery, he swears the taller man flinches. 

“No. Just having bad luck with a chaser of poor choices.”

“Gotcha.” Duck drums on the wheel, “so, uh, Mr. Wilde, what do you do when you ain’t stuck in the snow?”

“I draw. And Indrid is fine…” he peers awkwardly at Duck’s name tag, “Duck.”

“It’s a nickname.”

“Ah. Are you a mechanic as well as a driver?”

“Yep. Do it part-time when I’m not workin at the national forest. Friend of mine, Ned, runs the garage attached to the Cryptonomica.”

“I recall seeing that when I drove through. Quite the Jacks of all trades, you two,”

“Most of Kepler’s got more’n one job. It’s the kind of place that’s always losin fundin or people, just barely stayin afloat.”

“One sympathizes. Do you like your jobs?”

“Trained in forestry, so it’s always what I’ve wanted to do. The mechanic stuff,” Duck shrugs, “nice workin with my hands and beein able to help folks out. And I ain’t half bad at it.”

“I certainly appreciate your efforts. I--wait, hold on, I’m sorry but I need to…” he turns up the radio, playing what Duck assumed was Santa Baby from the melody.

“He is saying ‘buddy.’ What in the world? Why would you change it?”

“Can’t have the fella in the red velvet suit thinkin you’re gay.” Duck jokes. 

“Heaven forbid.” Indrid smiles, and Duck likes the expression so much he decides to see if he can get him to do it again.

“You wanna hear a slightly inappropriate joke?”

“Absolutely.”

“How come Santa don’t have any kids?”

“How come?”

“Because he only comes once a year and it’s down a chimney.”

There’s a beat and then Indrid guffaws, covering his face with his hands as his whole body shakes with amusement, “that was horrible, do you have any more?”

Thank god he’s got a wealth of bad jokes tucked in his brain. When he exhausts those he and Indrid trade brainteasers, stopping now and then to talk about their lives. The taller man asks Duck about his jobs, about the woods, and the town, and offers a few anecdotes in exchange. Duck senses they’re about they’re set in a time in his life that’s further away than Indrid would like. 

Indrid also readily shares the snacks from his small backpack. Duck eats what he can while still safely piloting the car. Then nearly takes them across the yellow line when Indrid unwraps a Starburst with his tongue, and prays the man will stay in Kepler long enough for Duck to take him to dinner.

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

Given he was expecting a painfully awkward trip at best, Duck’s friendliness is a welcome surprise. Now that they’ve been stuck in the car together for close to two hours, Indrid is confident saying this is most fun he’s had talking to someone in a long time, even before things went all to hell. 

It helps that Duck is the picture you’d get if you googled “Indrid Cold’s type”; sturdy, handsome in an unassuming way, undoubtedly pleasant to cuddle, with muscles that Indrid is positive could hold him up against a wall for at least a few minutes. In another life, one that’s so far away he fears he imagined it, he’d wait until they were done with the business portion of this evening, then slip Duck a card with his name in silver letters and his hotel room number on the back. The man is so genuine in his kindness too, Indrid feeling safer in the dark with him than he’s felt in years.

Which makes him feel even worse about what he’s going to do.

“Not too far now.” Duck turns the windshield wipers up a notch, “thank fuck for that.”

Indrid curls forward, holding his stomach, “I, ah, I really hate to say this, but I’m afraid my gas station lunch is coming back up.”

“Shit, okay, lemme pull over.” Duck guides the truck onto the side of the road, “do what you gotta do.”

His hands are on his lap, keys still dangling from the ignition. Indrid lunges over, grabbing them and trying to shove Duck into the door in one go. The mechanic is too fast, yanking the keys to his chest.

“What the fuck man!?”

“I’m so sorry about this!”

“Then fuckin stop!” Duck kicks, misses, and Indrid knees him in the stomach as gently as he can.

“I can’t, I need the truck.”

“Are you fuckin car-jackin me right now?”

“It’s not personal.” He gets the keys away, only for the world to flip ninety degrees as Duck tackles him backwards.

“It sure feels like it is!”

Indrid hoped that his survival instincts would kick in hard enough to make up for the exhaustion and that coupled with the element of surprise would bring him success. Instead, his limbs have no power behind them, and all he can do is curse when the driver flips him onto his stomach, trapping his hands behind his back and pinning him with his body weight. 

“Fuck.” It’s a pathetic noise for a pathetic man.

“Explain. Now.” Duck growls.

“I, I, you were right when asked if I was on the lamb.”

“....fuckin what?”

“It was a set up, and I finally, finally got free, and, and I will not go back, I can’t, but if I’m out a car I need a replacement and-”

“And you almost stole a truck that’s got a goddamn tracker in it.”

“Oh.” He presses his face to the seat in shame.

“Somethin tells me you ain’t a seasoned crook.”

“I’m not a criminal at all! I have no idea what I’m doing. I was just going to drive and drive until I hit the coast, I hadn’t even decided what to do after. I, I’m sorry, I waited until we got close to town so you wouldn’t be too far away to walk home safely. I, ah, I wasn’t prepared for having to do this to someone I like.”

Duck shifts above him, mutters, “what the fuck do I do now” to himself, and tightens his hold on Indrid’s wrists. 

Indrid whimpers, realizing with horror that his body responded to the mechanics of the fight but not it’s context.

Duck freezes at the noise, and when Indrid hazards a peek the mechanic is staring down in disbelief. 

“Are you fuckin hard from this?”

There’s no use in lying, he’s faced worse humiliation than this, “Some. Not on purpose. I, ah, I enjoy rough treatment.”

Duck’s face fills with bitter amusement, “And I like givin it. But not to fellas who nearly steal my truck. Fuckin figures the first guy to flirt with me is doin it for some other reason.”

“That’s not true, my plan involved no flirting.” Indrid huffs, “I was flirting because I think you’re handsome.”

More pressure on his back as Duck leans down to whisper in his ear, grinding against his ass, “Yeah? Were you hopin I’d fuck you in here? Or over the hood when we got back?”

“Maybe.” He manages a smirk.

“Hopin I’ll fuck you now?”

Indrid nods, but Duck doesn’t notice. The mechanic sits all the way back, releasing his hands, “too damn bad, because unlike you, I only take things with permission.”

“C-consider it granted.” 

The hand finds his back again, but instead of shoving or grabbing it strokes up and down, “Indrid, I’m serious. I ain’t doin anythin if the only reason you’re offerin is because you think I’ll hurt you if you don’t.”

“I’m not. I want this, Duck, I want to be with you.” He’s going back to jail one way or another after this, unwilling to consider the thought of hurting Duck to get the keys. He’d rather go back with one happy memory and a few minutes of fun freshly stored in his mind. 

There’s silence, Duck’s hand still as he thinks. Then it comes down hard on Indrid’s ass, “Okay sugar, happy to oblige you. Besides, seems to me you owe me an apology for that sorry excuse for a car theft.” 

Indrid moans loudly when Duck hauls onto his elbows and knees, though it’s the pet name that hits deeper than any of the much-welcome pain. The waistband of his dollar store sweatpants hits his thighs, there’s a pop of something plastic, and then a slick finger is teasing between his asscheeks. 

“Vaseline. Great for keepin your skin from cracking in the cold.”

The finger disappears and he whines, pushing his ass back and getting it slapped so hard he yelps. 

“Nice try. But this ain’t for you, it’s for me. Don’t got a condom and only got a tiny bit of this left and it ain’t enough to fuck you full on.”

“It’s alright, I like the pain, you could use spit or-”

“Nope” another slap, “that turns into the bad kinda pain real quick. Now open your fuckin legs.”

Indrid does so, gasps happily when Duck slides his lubed-up cock between his thighs. 

“Close ‘em and keep ‘em closed. Good, ohfuckyeah that’s good.” The thrusts are already fast, Ducks hands holding his hips in place, “fuck, tell you what sugar, you may be a shitty crook but you’re a damn good lay.”

“Yes.” Indrid moans, scrabbling for a hold on the upholstery.

“Shit, you do like it rough. Like it when I talk like that?” One hand comes down, petting Indrid’s head and brushing his hair away from where it’s stuck over his eyes. 

“So much, Duck, please, please, more, I want more AHgod!” Tears slip past his glasses as Duck hits the right side of his ass over and over again. He’s been treated like a criminal mastermind, made miserable because of it, so being nothing more than an eager piece of ass is a welcome change.

“Then I oughta tell you this is what you get for tryin to get one over on me. Think you can throw my ass out in the cold? Gonna turn yours so red you won’t be able to sit for a week.”

He’s so hard it isn’t even funny, and beneath the wonderful cycle of pain-relief-pain-relief his mind chants safesafesafesafe.

“Fuck, Indrid, I’m so fuckin lucky you tried that stunt on me, can’t wait to cum all over that cute little ass, ohyeah, fuck, fuckyeah.” He pulls out, cum spurting onto Indrid’s ass and legs and Indrid hears his own voice saying “thank you” as he does. 

As he’s contemplating what form of begging will earn him an orgasm, he’s flipped onto his back, one calloused hand pressing him down by the shoulder while the other jerks him off. He squeaks and squirms, one palm thwacking into the door as his right leg catches the steering wheel. 

“Sensitive, sugar?”

“Yes.”

“Shoulda thought of that before you bent over for me.”

“TechnicallyAH, you, you’re the one who bent me over.”

Duck jerks him extra hard in reply, grinning. The sight of him is just the right balance of menacing and protective that Indrid only needs two more bucks of his hips before he’s cumming. The mechanic works him through it, squeezing him roughly just to hear him whimper (Indrid’s certain of it).

He sits back and starts putting his clothes in order as Indrid lays there, panting from exertion and the weight of reality on his chest. 

“I don’t suppose you have something I can, ah, wipe off with before you take me to the station?” He asks softly.

“I’m not taking you to the police, Indrid.”

“What? Why?” He bolts up, his mind screaming that he shouldn’t ask too many questions lest it make Duck change his mind. 

“I’m not sure what kinda guy fucks someone and then hands them over to the cops, but I’m damn sure I don’t wanna be one.”

“You’d do that without even knowing the full truth?”

“Wouldn’t mind if you told me.” Duck starts the car, adds “seatbelt” as he pulls back onto the road. 

Indrid gets his pants up and buckles in, huddling in on himself, “As you probably guessed, my name isn’t Wilde. It’s Indrid Cold. Wilde was the man I stole that car from, who also had a very nice AAA plan it seems. I am, or was, an architect. Quite talented, if I do say so myself. And many other people said so, once upon a time. My firm got a contract with a certain large city to design and help build a bridge. I was head of design, and I was certain this would be the project that made my name. It did. Just not how I hoped.”

Duck slows down as they reach the edge of Kepler. 

“Have you ever heard of the Silverlake Bridge?”

“Ain’t that the one that collapsed a few years agooh, oh shit was that your bridge?”

“Yes. Halfway through the project, I became concerned that certain elements of the design would not be as stable as they needed to be and might collapse without warning. The higher ups said it would require a larger budget to do the new, far safer design, but gave me the go ahead to finish my proposal of the securer model. They accepted that design, and I thought that was the end of it. Turns out, they funneled the money needed for the better bridge into their own pockets, both my bosses and the representatives from the city. Unbeknownst to me, they built the weaker bridge. When it collapsed I” he takes a deep breath, the memories surfacing in a tidal wave, “I was shocked, and prepared to accept responsibility, as I could not understand how the design failed. It was only when the investigation revealed how it failed that I understood my warnings had been ignored and I was being set up as a fall guy. Not only for the collapse, but for the missing funds, my bosses swearing up one side and down the other that they’d given the money to me to manage. They’d had this planned for months, and so had built our communication in such a way that I had no proof the money hadn’t come to me. Thus I was blamed, tried, and convicted, and in the minds of many I am responsible for the death of 67 people.”

The engine shuts off and he looks up to see them in an auto garage. Duck is turned to him, face so sad and sympathetic that Indrid could almost believe..

“You think I’m telling the truth.”

“I know you are. Not sure how, but even though I ain’t much of a liar myself, I can usually tell when someone is bullshittin me.”

“I don’t want to go back to prison.” 

“You won’t.”

“Duck I, I can’t ask you to hide me, that could put you in danger of arrest.”

“There’s all of four cops in Kepler, and I’d bet my life no one here could pick you out of a line-up as a ‘disgraced architect Indrid Cold.’ And if we need a cover story, Ned’s got a knack for ‘em.”

“We?”

Duck cups his cheek and Indrid leans into it, “You and me. Indrid, I think fate is a load of bullshit, but I can’t shake the feelin me pickin you up tonight was meant to be. Lemme help you, please.”

Indrid sets his hand on Duck’s own, “Okay. Ah, where do I stay? I have fifty dollars left.”

“Could stay with me if you want. No strings attached.”

“Is that your way of letting me down gently?”

“My way of saying you don’t gotta fuck me to have a place to live. If you wanna fuck me just because, say the word and I’ll rail you into next week.”

“I’d like both those things so very much. Though right now all I want is to sleep.”

Duck leans forward, kissing him so chastely that the following lovebite is all the more thrilling.

“In that case, sugar, let’s get you home.”

[izzy-b-hands]

Mark the Date, Pt 1

Prompt: Calendar

I was gonna try and type a cute description here, but I’m afraid I’ll give away the plot if I do cuz I’m excited about it. So all I’ll say here is that Eugene and Snafu’s anniversary plays a part in this one! And it wasn’t going to be a multi part thing, but it was getting really long for a one shot, so I tried to find a spot to split it up a bit!

It was the same every year since they’d gotten married. They’d both plan something for the other, and spend the day together, no work or school to get in the way. 

The best part of it was watching Snafu. He attempted something that might have resembled sneakiness, but only vaguely. This year was perhaps his weakest attempt though. 

“Is that a...gazebo?”

Snafu nearly dropped the hammer in his hand as he turned to face Eugene, his eyes wide. “Um. Yes. What’s it matter?”

“Because I don’t recall us deciding to build one, or that you would do it all on your own,” Eugene replied, walking around the half-built structure. “Is this why you said I couldn’t come out here today?” 

“Meant to be a surprise,” Snafu mumbled. 

“Well, I am surprised. And I like it, but let me help you! Or get you water at least, you’ve been out here in this heat for hours,” Eugene scolded. He should have disobeyed and come out sooner to check on him. “We’re both lucky I didn’t come out here to find you passed out on the grass.” 

“I would’ve come in before that,” Snafu sighed.

“Sure, sure,” Eugene replied. “How the hell did you get the concrete slab down? I didn’t even see you bring in any of this?”

“Last few nights when ‘the cats were sneaking out’?” Snafu smiled, wincing slightly as he flopped back against the concrete floor of the structure. 

“I knew that was a lie, but this? In the dark?” Eugene laughed. “I mean, gettin’ it to set would have been a nightmare.”

“It’s worth it,” Snafu replied. “Part of somethin’ bigger, but that’s all I’m gonna say about it.” 

“Really? ‘Cause I know it’s eatin’ at you, to tell me more,” Eugene teased as he sat on the concrete slab. 

“Maybe so. But my lips are sealed,” Snafu’s hand reached up to pull at his shirt, tugging him down. 

“You really wanna do this out here, on this hot fuckin’ concrete?” Eugene murmured as he let himself be pulled down, moving to rest against Snafu, his thigh in between Snafu’s. 

“Really think I’m gonna let heat and sunburn stop me from gettin’ to you?” Snafu asked in reply. 

He was considering exactly what he was going to do to Snafu on the slab when Sid’s voice rang out. 

“Snaf! I got the uh-oh shit, Gene. I mean, I...” 

“I forgot we gave him the spare key,” Eugene sighed as he rolled off and up from Snafu. “What do you have, Sid?” 

Sid looked panicked, his hands hidden behind his back, the package he was trying to hide sticking out from behind him. “Nothin’. Just...Snaf asked me to run an errand for him. S’all.” 

“Is this to do with the bigger surprise you swear you aren’t gonna tell me anythin’ about?” Eugene asked as he watched Snafu bolt up and run to Sid like he was on fire. 

“What? Nah,” Snafu replied. “We gotta go talk for a minute, be right back darlin’!” 

He waited for a moment before following them inside, leaving his shoes near the back door so they wouldn’t hear him as he settled near the wall by the entrance of the sitting room. 

“You’re gonna tell him before the day of, right?” Sid asked. 

“‘Course,” Snafu replied. “But I mean...you think he’ll like this, right? Everyone’s helpin’ out and excited, and I know neither of us planned on ever gettin’ to do it, but...I’m not fuckin’ this up by not tellin’ him right away, am I?” 

“I don’t think so,” Sid replied, and Eugene could hear one of the chairs across from the couch creak as Sid moved in it. “But I know he’s gonna be curious as all hell right about now. Which is why I know he’s probably two feet away, listenin’ in. So lemme help both of you out-” 

Eugene slipped trying to get up and away from the wall as he heard Sid get up and move to the entrance of the room, but he wasn’t fast enough. 

“Hey. So, I know you’re curious. I would be too. But I promise, you’re gonna love what he’s cookin’ up. Gonna be a hell of an anniversary celebration, too. Give him another few days to finish that thing outside, to let me and some other folks finish up some ‘errands’ for him, then you’ll see. Be patient,” Sid smiled down at him. 

“Did you hear me come in or somethin’?” Eugene asked, wishing he wasn’t sprawled out on the floor at that moment. 

“No. Just know you well, buddy. And I’d be curious too, so I can’t blame ya. I’ll be back tomorrow around ten to help with the gazebo, so if you’re gonna...ya know, fuck on it, maybe do it before then? I love you guys, but-” 

“Oh my god, Sid,” Eugene interrupted, covering his face as he blushed and pulled himself back to sit against the wall. 

“See ya later!” Sid chirped happily as he left.

Snafu rounded the wall as the door clicked shut, and went to lock it. He walked back to Eugene, and slumped down beside him against the wall. 

“I could just tell you. Been so damn nervous about this, plannin’ it since our last anniversary,” Snafu said. His hands were shaking. 

Eugene reached over and held onto his hands as tight as he could. “Hey. I’m sure I’ll like whatever it is. I admit, I am...confused, to put it lightly, as to how the gazebo factors in, but-” 

“A wedding,” Snafu interrupted. “I can’t keep a secret from you, you know that. I was plannin’, since we never got one with a bunch of family and friends, and I know it still won’t be legal or whatever, but I thought bein’ back here with all your family and Sid and everyone else you know maybe it would be nice, and...” 

“You planned a wedding for us?” 

Snafu turned to meet his eyes, looking half scared to death. “I mean...I’m tryin’. Don’t really know how it goes. But I know you need someplace to hold it, and our backyard is big enough, nice enough for that. But I wanted somewhere to be the...hell I don’t know what you call it, the center of it all? So that’s why...” 

“The gazebo,” Eugene laughed.

“And I know your favorite color and mine, so that’s our colors. Apparently we needed those, according to Sid and Mary. That’s what Sid was doin’. Pickin’ up decorations and shit,” Snafu sighed. “God, you don’t hate this, do you? I mean, I know this is a big thing to spring on anyone and we’ve technically been married for almost three years, but-” 

“I love it,” Eugene interrupted softly, letting go of Snafu’s hands only to turn and pull him as close as he could, letting Snafu lean down to rest in his lap. “You planned all of this? And kept it quiet this long?” 

“It’s been killin’ me,” Snafu replied shakily. “Sid and Mary have known for awhile, and your parents. Got Burgie and Florence comin’ too. Won’t be a whole lot of folks, though I told your parents to invite anyone they knew would be, y’know...accepting. So no idea how many more that is, they haven’t gotten back to me yet.” 

“When is this planned for, exactly?” Eugene asked, though he was sure he already knew. 

“Day of our anniversary. Wanted to do somethin’ big. Probably settin’ a high standard for the rest of our anniversaries but,” Snafu shrugged. “If we’re stayin’ put here for awhile, then I wanted to do somethin’ showy. Show you off, and how much I love you.” 

He had words to say, but the tears kept getting in the way. He kept his arms tight around Snafu, and for that moment it was so good. Sweet and soft and wonderful-his husband had planned a whole wedding! For him! It was beautiful. 

“Our anniversary is in four days,” Eugene said, wiping away the tears. 

“Yup,” Snafu replied from his lap, his head resting gently and a hand on Eugene’s thigh.

“That’s not a lot of time,” Eugene said. “How much more is there to do? Aside from the the gazebo, I mean.” 

Snafu sat up, wiping tears off of his face. “Um. Not much, really. Sid and your dad have someone bringin’ over extra tables and things the day before, decoratin’ that night I guess. Already had your dad help out by gettin’ a tailor he trusts for our suits. Nothin’ fancy, mind, just black suits that he had on hand in his shop and can fit to us. And he’s coming over...shit he’s coming over tomorrow for fittings.” 

“Hold on. You were gonna have me fitted for a suit and just trust I wouldn’t ask why?” Eugene laughed. 

“Yeah,” Snafu giggled. “Shit, that wouldn’t have worked.” 

“No, no it would not have, but I find it adorable that you were gonna try,” Eugene sighed softly. “What time does the tailor get here?” 

“Hold on, I know this, I did actually write it down, shockin’ though that may be,” Snafu replied, jumping up and running into the kitchen, returning with a notebook that looked like it had seen hell. 

Snafu flipped through it seemingly at random, finally settling on a page. “He gets in at...eurgh. Seven in the fuckin’ morning. That’s what I get for lettin’ your dad set up that appointment, but he knows the guy, so not like I was gonna argue.” 

“Too bad,” Eugene sighed, standing up and trying to sneak a peek at the notebook. “Was gonna find a way to thank you for all of this.”

Snafu snapped the notebook shut and smiled. “Let some of it be a surprise yet. And what exactly did you have in mind for me?” 

“Somethin’ that means neither of us would be able to be out of bed before seven, that’s for damn sure,” Eugene said, letting his hands take hold of Snafu’s waist to pull him close. “Don’t know if I can wait until our honeymoon for it though.” 

“Only four days away,” Snafu said, leaning in to kiss him and nip at his lips. “You really can’t resist me for that long?” 

“You keep this up and I won’t make it five more minutes,” Eugene replied, his hands already undoing the front of Snafu’s pants. “Think you can still get up early if I keep you up for a bit?” 

“Somethin’s up already, you really think I’m gonna say no?” Snafu replied before letting the notebook drop to the floor as his hands moved to toy at the nape of Eugene’s neck, and he kissed him hard enough to move them both forward. 

It was a race upstairs, after retrieving the notebook and turning off the lights downstairs, much to Snafu’s frustration (”Too many goddamn lights, I’m dyin’ over here but we’ve got to turn all this shit off, for fuck’s sake.”) 

A few of the cats had taken up residence on their bed, but hopped off as if on cue as soon as they walked in. 

“Thanks for lettin’ us borrow the room,” Snafu said dryly as they trotted down the hall to the open guest room. 

“You know we don’t really own any of this, they do. They just let us live here,” Eugene laughed as he tossed his clothes to the floor and jumped onto the bed. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Snafu sighed as he stripped. “Think even your parents know that. They thought they were givin’ the house to us, but no!” 

“Get over here before the furry landlords get back in here and try and steal the bed again,” Eugene said, patting the bed. 

Snafu dropped onto the bed with a happy sigh. 

“You’re the settin’ the alarm so we actually get up, right?” Eugene asked as he let his hands trail along Snafu’s torso to his hip. 

Snafu rolled his eyes, but turned and set the alarm clock on the beside table. “Better?” 

Eugene nodded. “You’re gonna be too busy with me to do it later.” 

Snafu chuckled and smiled, stretching out and leaning against him. “That a promise?” 

Eugene replied with his lips against Snafu’s neck, his chest, working to elicit the moans and whimpers that he loved to hear. 

And for the first fifteen minutes or so, that’s what he got, as he nipped and kissed  his way down Snafu’s body. As he reached his hip, it registered that the sounds had changed. 

A look up revealed it; Snafu with his eyes shut, lightly snoring. 

Eugene laughed and pressed another kiss to Snafu’s hip before coming back up to rest beside him. “Gazebo building took it out of you, darlin’?” 

Snafu’s only response was to snuggle close to him as he pulled him near, so Snafu’s head came to rest against his chest.

“I’ll be patient then,” Eugene said as he played with Snafu’s hair. “Honeymoon night though? We aren’t gonna sleep at all.” 

He slept hard that night though, with Snafu warm against him. 

[ruckusheaven]

A Coon In A Colorful Heaven: Chapter 5- “It’s All Pink on the Inside..”

Coon-  A black person who is ignorant to white discrimination and unknowingly suffers with self hatred.

This chapter continues to follow the eternal story of a man named Damien. When we last saw Damien he was taken to his family’s club by Angie. Once there he was greeted by his Uncle Craig who took him to see his Great Great Grandmother Lisa. Surprisingly enough she was one of the very few actually happy to see Damien. But as they began to speak, Damien started to explain his views on women and his preference; which started an argument about colorism and the struggles black women face. But before the conversation could be finished they noticed and were informed by Angie about Damien’s Soul Confliction. With little to no hesitation “GG” Grandma Lisa figured out the perfect way to educate Damien on colorism...Was by meeting his Great Great Grandfather Julian.

            -inside of Damien’s Family Club-

Damien: Great Great Grandfather Julian??

Damien: Why haven’t i heard of that name before?

Uncle Richard: Because he was never worth mentioning, hell we barely knew about him ourselves when we were alive.

Damien: Huh?

“GG” Grandma Lisa: *looks down* Listen Damien there’s a lot about this family that you never knew about. But to be honest how could you have?

“GG” Grandma Lisa: *looks back up at the crowd of people* Our Family did a terrible job at trying to keep our family history and connection together...

“GG” Grandma Lisa: So many stories... so many faces... I have been in Heaven for more than a century in your time and i still discover something new about this family almost everyday.

“GG” Grandma Lisa: *walks around the room* So much Pain and Love. Hatred and Compassion. Fear and Understanding. Destruction and Creativity. and Secrets... So many secrets

“GG” Grandma Lisa: *looks back at Damien* In due time you will see for yourself what i mean, I promise you that. But first we need to deal with your little Soul Confliction issue

*A Bright Light Crashes Down, Leaving behind Aunt Tanya and “GG” Grandfather Julian*

“GG” Grandfather Julian: WHAT UP FAMILY!!

“GG” Grandma Lisa: Speaking of which, perfect timing.

Aunt Tanya: You know... That beam is damn near instantaneous and i swear it felt like we were in there for hours. He just keeps talking.

“GG” Grandfather Julian: Girl hush, i made that ride entertaining!!

Aunt Tanya: More like annoying... 

“GG” Grandma Lisa: *Walks towards Julian with open arms and a smile* Hi Julian

“GG” Grandfather Julian: Oh my God Lisa *Hugs Lisa* *holds Lisa waist while staring into her eyes* Every time i see you it’s like it for the first time all over again

“GG” Grandma Lisa: Oh Julian..

Uncle Craig: Oh God

Aunt Tanya: You know for a couple that’s separated, y’all sure don’t act like it

“GG” Grandma Lisa: Heaven is place of forgiveness Tanya, you know that. I have no hate in my heart for this man, there’s no point in it.

Aunt Tanya: I can think of few but those would all be considered “Preferences” 

“GG” Grandfather Julian: Now Tanya i know you was slow in the head but i would think that me admitting 100 times that i was wrong would eventually stick in your brain   

“GG” Grandfather Julian:  I thought something would finally stick in you

Aunt Tanya: You son of a-

“GG” Grandma Lisa: ENOUGH!! from the both of you. Acting like damn fools for no reason

“GG” Grandma Lisa: Apologize both of you

“GG” Grandfather Julian: Now why i gotta apologize she the one that started-

“GG” Grandma Lisa: *grips Julian’s hand hard* I said apologize 

“GG” Grandfather Julian: 

“GG” Grandfather Julian: I deeply and sincerely apologize Tanya, i was way out of line

Aunt Tanya: Mhmm i’m sorry too

“GG” Grandma Lisa: Good. now you two can fight it out some other time, but right now we need to help my Grand Baby fix his Soul Confliction

“GG” Grandfather Julian: Right right, Tanya said that’s why ya needed me. So where lil man at *looks around the room*

Damien: *stands up sticking his hand out* You mean grown man Grandpa

“GG” Grandfather Julian: Well right you are *shakes Damien’s hand* good to see ya boy, good to see ya!

Damien: *smirks* Good to see you too Grandpa

“GG” Grandfather Julian: Boy did anyone every tell you, that you look just like your Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great x53 Grandfather Musa Keita??

Damien: Ummm.. no

“GG” Grandfather Julian: Boy you gotta sit down and meet that man one day. He was doin his thang in the b.c time, boy you wouldn’t believe!

“GG” Grandfather Julian: Listen here man we come from Kings! you hear me, real Kings!

“GG” Grandma Lisa: Now Julian i’m sure Damien would love to meet and hear all about our history but we have more *cough cough* pressing issues to go over..

“GG” Grandfather Julian: Right Right my bad. So what seems to be the problem *grabs a chair and sits in front of Damien*

“GG” Grandma Lisa: Well our Grandson here seems to think that Light Skin women are better than Dark Skin women

“GG” Grandfather Julian: Ok ok....... see now i said what’s the problem, this right here just sounds like a preference

Aunt Tanya: Here we go

Uncle Richard: Is everything always a joke to you Julian?

“GG” Grandfather Julian: Boy the only joke here is you. You the only negro i know that still needs glasses in Heaven.

“GG” Grandfather Julian:  Heaven can fix and heal everything, and i mean EEEVRRRYYTHING..... but 20/70 vision. Ain’t that bouta bitch.

Uncle Craig: Should I throw him out now or after the ass kicking?

“GG” Grandfather Julian: Now don’t you touch me Craig!! *stands up*

“GG” Grandfather Julian: Last time you touched me, i had to soak in a realm made of lotion for weeks just to get your ash off of me

“GG” Grandma Lisa: Julian..  

“GG” Grandfather Julian: Now Lisa you know im just messing around with everyone. Everyone is so uptight today.

“GG” Grandma Lisa: For a very good reason

“GG” Grandfather Julian: You right, You’re absolutely right.. I apologize

“GG” Grandfather Julian: Ok lemme start this over

“GG” Grandfather Julian: *grabs Damien by the collar* Aye little nigga whats wrong with you and not liking Dark Skin Women!? Ain’t Ya Momma as black as November 23rd!!

Damien: *in shock* what the hell!

“GG” Grandma Lisa: JULIAN!!

“GG” Grandfather Julian: What?... This is what i did last time..

“GG” Grandma Lisa: Can you take it down a few notches and act like this is your Grandson and not some random thug that’s trying to fight you..

“GG” Grandfather Julian: *sigh* ok my bad, my bad

“GG” Grandfather Julian: *fixes Damien’s shirt* sorry about that man *sits back down*

Damien: *catching his breath* what the hell is wrong with this family!

“GG” Grandfather Julian: A lot more than we have the time to discussion right now. So can you please sit

Damien: *Takes a deep breath* whatever man *sits back down*

“GG” Grandfather Julian: Alright look man, that whole light skin is a preference and all that nonsense is some bull shit.

Damien: Once again how can you or anyone tell me what like is wrong, I was never attracted to dark skin tones, that’s just who i am

“GG” Grandfather Julian: Boy ain’t nobody born hating or disliking an entire color. That shit ain’t genetic, as you can see you come from some dark moutherfukas and we love ALL shades of chocolate *stretches his arms out*

The Crowd of Family: Amen to that! I know that’s Right! You ain’t neva lied!

“GG” Grandfather Julian: See

Damien: I get that’s how y’all are, but that’s not me. Why can’t y’all accept that i’m different.

Damien: Im not saying that i hate Dark Skin women or anything like that. I just choose to not be around them, they’re a mess for the most part.

The Crowd of Family: *gasp*. No this nigga didn’t...

“GG” Grandfather Julian: Now Now everyone let’s relax. Before we jump in his ass lets see where he’s coming from. Go ahead and explain yourself

Damien: Ok look, all my life i have seen nothing but ratchetness and ghetto shit from Dark Skin women.

Damien: From Tv, Movies and my encounters with them, they’re always loud, obnoxious, always ready to fight someone, always wearing weaves and wigs, always trying to live off someone else and just all around one note.

“GG” Grandfather Julian:

“GG” Grandfather Julian: Now i have heard some shit in my day, but boy i have never heard someone so passionately explain they’re ideology based around assumptions, one sided opinions and shit they saw on tv..

“GG” Grandfather Julian: Oh wait yes i have.. From racist white men and women that never had a conversation nor would even want to with a black man or woman.

Damien: Huh?

“GG” Grandfather Julian: Boy, do you know that what you just said is eerily similar to what white people have said about black folks for years?

“GG” Grandfather Julian: “ they’re always loud, obnoxious, always ready to fight someone, Violent, Always dependent on welfare, uncivilized, thugs” etc etc or as you say “one note”

Damien: Yea but that’s just white people being racist

“GG” Grandfather Julian: Negro where do you think colorism started!

“GG” Grandfather Julian: For hundreds of years your great female ancestors were raped and used as cattle, play things and servants. Then once these women had these kids that came out lighter then them, not only were they separated from their kids but they were also told to treat them as superior.

“GG” Grandfather Julian: That was one of their greatest schemes to slowly break us apart. Treating some of our own blood as superiors or servants so that those kids would eventually see Darker skin as beneath them. It was a way for white people to make them seem even more powerful just because of their skin; while also creating a form of control that made their job easier.

Damien: This all sounds like some white man conspiracy bull shit.

???: I’m afraid it’s not *walks trough the crowd and stands next to Julian*

Damien: Who are you?

???: Hello my name is Claudia one of your great cousins. I was born a slave in 1720..and i think my story could help shed some truth on what Julian is saying.

Damien: What, you’re going to tell me more stories? Listen Claudia, no disrespect but i don’t have the time for any long winded storytelling 

Claudia: Oh i won’t be telling the story, I will show you it..

Damien: What are you talkin-

*Claudia places both of her hands on Damien’s head, taking both of them to huge forest*

Damien: *in shock* what the... where the hell are we

Claudia: We’re in my Memory Realm.

Claudia: In this realm i will show you a brief glimpse of my life and the story i wish to show you 

Damien: What are you talking about?

Claudia: *sticks her hand out pointing in a direction*

Damien: *confusedly walks to where Claudia is pointing*

*After pushing his way through a huge bush, Damien looks on in shack and awe*

Damien: *takes a deep gasp* where... where are we exactly

Claudia: We’re in the 1720′s, in Alabama on the plantation i was born

Claudia: Welcome to my Life and now see my Story..

THE END OF CHAPTER 5