#but. like. i think i will stop subjecting the internet to my crazy ramblings

[ananke-xiii]

The “body without organs” of Mary Winchester (and… Jimmy Novak).

When I started to pull the resurrection thread in the narrative of Supernatural I identified Castiel’s team-work resurrection in S13 and Mary’s impossible resurrection in S14 as my two main reference points from where I could develop this whole fantasy of mine. My initial idea in a nutshell was the following: Chuck, at certain point, decided that he didn’t want Cas back. He also decided that he didn’t want Mary back. So I asked myself why, of course. There are two characters behind Cas and Mary’s resurrections and these are Jack and Amara. So I thought it was cool to assume that Jack and Amara were what really went wrong in Chuck’s story. Since the show ends with a dethroned Chuck and with the union of Jack and Amara as the new “top dog” in town, it seems like it isn’t just a cool assumption but it’s possibly also correct (correct, again, in my fantasy, because we never saw Amara in the finale so this is just my mind grasping for meaning that makes sense to me).

What I didn’t expect to find while I was resurrecting the narrative threads of this dead show is that, ultimately, Mary Winchester is basically a Jimmy Novak minus Castiel. I’ll explain what I mean by this in a minute but I first want to say that I didn’t expect such a triangulation was going to come up. I already was aware of the connection between the theme of birth/motherhood/death and Castiel but I was surprised to find Jimmy Novak there, too.

Before going on I have to declare a little bit of defeat (for now). I believe that my mind can do any kind of cerebral somersaults but I’m a bit at loss (for now) about the reason why Jimmy Novak was resurrected after Raphael killed Castiel. Jimmy-as-soul doesn’t come back when Lucifer kills Castiel and I can’t come up with, let’s say, “diegetic” reasons to explain it. Is it because Raphael was less powerful than Lucifer? Mmmh. Is it just God’s will? Double mmmh. These reasons don’t satisfy me and I can’t help but see the cogs of the wheel turning behind the scenes, aka the same thing that happened to Final Ruby:

RUBY: Proof. This body is one-hundred percent socially conscious. I recycle. Al Gore would be proud. […] You didn’t want me to take a body with someone in it, and I made sure that the spirit was gone. Apartment was empty. You happy?

Just like Ruby, who allegedly seems on Sam’s side in S4 and therefore “good”, couldn’t be a demon possessing an innocent (since they wanted Sam and Ruby to make out hard… the implications would've been… unpleasant), Castiel, too, couldn't keep sharing his vessel with his rightful owner (Off-topic: further proof that Ruby and Castiel are two different sides of the same character). This is all to say that the show was very aware of the implications of their favourite metaphors and had to come up with creative ways to get around the “law” that they themselves had created.

In other words, Jimmy Novak’s “empty apartment” was a necessary sacrifice to keep Castiel-as-character around (well, apparently, much like Chuck, some showrunners didn’t exactly want Castiel-as-character around but let’s stash this as further proof for the “Chuck is the writers” theory).

Jimmy’s body goes Through.A.Lot. from S4 to S13 where it ends up on a pyre with Kelly Kline’s corpse (!!! The things I have to say about this!!!). From S5 onwards, however, Jimmy’s not “in there” anymore so we can all breathe out because at least this poor man/character wasn’t actually “in there” to suffer and be testimony to all the sufferings. But his body and his new tenant did.

As I’ve said before, after Cas’ resurrection in S13 I don’t know how but I do know that Cas gets back complete with Jimmy’s body and I personally like to think that Cas’ physical appearance from S13 is his own. It’s his “body”. He stole Jimmy’s looks but it’s not Jimmy’s body anymore. Cas’ body is… a replica (of Jimmy’s)… capable of holding… grace. In an unexpected turn of events, then, Jimmy’s body goes from awesome vessel coveted by all angels to a copy of itself. And this process actually frees poor Jimmy’s body from angelic tyranny (as if moving from vessel to copy can even be described as... freedom but anyway). How could this even be possible? Nothing comes from nothing, right?

Well, well, well! How lucky for me that Supernatural had established itself as a universe were “formless matter” was “just there, waiting to be born” and for God to pick and do what he pleases! So I finally come full-circle with my “Jack-as-hidden-threat” thesis: by waking Cas up in the Empty, Jack is creating his father who had gone back to being “formless matter”. In other words, Jack was already God in that he had the capacity to do the same things that God did. This is, by the way, the reason why the angels correctly identified him as the entity who could’ve been able to create more angels. Because, I think, he could have, just not in the same way as the angels imagined (in my fantasy Nick's storyline doesn't happen so please remove all of your memories about Nick waking Lucifer up in the Empty, that never happened on this blog).

In this way Jack, even with all the complex issues he has with power, actually grew up a bit from S13 to S14: in S13 he only started the re-creation of his father by waking him up in the Empty (Cas had to do a lot of work, too) while in S14 he actually managed to bring Mary back. It’s just that what he brought back was “a shell. A body, you know. That it was empty. Just a a replica. "Incapable of holding life."

Jack could have brought Mary back. As a matter of fact, in this fantasy of mine, I think Chuck had to intervene because he realized that Jack’s next step in his progress would’ve been the final one that would’ve allowed him the complete mastery over resurrection (and over souls...). Jack could’ve brought souls back without deals just like Amara could.

Now, I don’t know if Chuck can actually bring back souls or not. He apparently brought Jimmy back once. I thereofre don’t believe the “it’s complicated”  travesty he came up with in “Moriah” because it’s a fact that even basic demons, provided that there was a deal, could bring souls back so why not Chuck? It’s true, however, that, if it was Chuck who brought specifically Cas back before S13, then it would seem like he can manipulate grace rather than souls. It’s also true that when he got angry in “Moriah” he wasn’t able to resurrect the people in the cemetery who all came out zombie- and ghost-like. Following my fantasy I would say that Chuck can’t resurrect souls but I’ll have to think about this, for now I can’t really decide.

What’s important here, to me anyway, is that, at a certain point in the story (according to this fantasy of mine), both Mary and Jimmy are “just” bodies that aren’t even real bodies: they are empty copies, replicas unable to hold life (but able to hold grace). What’s even more “hilarious” is that Mary, who’s THE mother of the story, is first “absolved” of her “sin” of giving birth to Sam and Dean via the construction of a world where she never was a mother and then, the following season, she’s reduced to a copy of a body incapable of holding life (!!!) the creation of which was the reason why her whole family was damned. Jimmy, on the other hand, had to "do penance" because he had abondoned his family first, his angel second and accepted a life of torture to spare his own daughter the same life of pain. And he wasn't even successful! He's eventually reduced to a replica of a body that will never be capable of holding life again, only grace, the acceptance of which was his first "original sin".

What I'm trying to say is that Mary and Jimmy are repeatedly punished because they brought DEATH and destruction upon their respective families IN PERPETUITY. The more they try to protect their children, the more they seem to damn them. The punishment goes to the point where they can only be "free" once their souls are locked in heaven with their fictional spouses, their actual bodies are completely erased from earth and the threat of their reproduction is forever erased. We only get reproductions of them, copies to burn on pyres so that they would never, ever be able to hold and give LIFE again. The body is ABSENT.

Mary and Jimmy are reproductions (as in replicas) so that they could never again reproduce (as in procreate).

Supernatural is THE show about saturnine sterility if I’ve ever seen one. There can’t be life in this show. Everything must stay recycled, characters can resurrect but never give new birth and, if they do (Hello Kelly Kline Forever), they must die.die.die. Love is okay only if it's lived in the after-life in a prison/suburbia-like Heaven with little boxes on the hillside, little boxes made of ticky-tacky ("And your mom and dad… they got a place over yonder"). Love in the physical realm, on the other hand, well... you can't get that, AND you can't have physical sex. Touch is forbidden.

And this is the reason, I think, why Castiel must also, eventually, die. He’s too closely associated with the desire of creation. He wants to be god, he wants to feel human, he is woman, he is man, he wants to be mother, he wants to be father, he wants to hold grace, he wants to hold life, he wants to give, give, give, he wants to touch too much. Now I’m talking symbolically here (although I believe that, my fantasy or not, this holds true textually too) but there’s too much fertility, too much sex around Cas in a show that’s ultimately about sterility. So he must die.

This is why I’ve chosen the “body without organs” for Mary and Jimmy: it’s both an image of freedom (well, more or less since Heaven is a scam but okay) and an image of pain, of the cost, of the madness behind that freedom. They’re finally “free”, even COMPLETE (!!!) from the narrative once their bodies are utterly destroyed and what lives on is copy of what they used to be and never will be again.

The phrase “Body without organs” comes from “To Have Done With the Judgement of God” by Antonin Artaud:

[…]

They have found a new way to bring out god and to capture him in his microbic noxiousness. This is to nail him though the heart, in the place where men love him best, under the guise of unhealthy sexuality, in that sinister appearance of morbid cruelty that he adopts whenever he is pleased to tetanize and madden humanity as he is doing now. He utilizes the spirit of purity and of a consciousness that has remained candid like mine to asphyxiate it with all the false appearances that he spreads universally through space and this is why Artaud le Mômo can be taken for a person suffering from hallucinations. - What do you mean, Mr. Artaud? - I mean that I have found the way to put an end to this ape once and for all and that although nobody believes in god any more everybody believes more and more in man. So it is man whom we must now make up our minds to emasculate. - How's that? How's that? No matter how one takes you you are mad, ready for the straitjacket. - By placing him again, for the last time, on the autopsy table to remake his anatomy. I say, to remake his anatomy. Man is sick because he is badly constructed. We must make up our minds to strip him bare in order to scrape off that animalcule that itches him mortally, god, and with god his organs.   For you can tie me up if you wish, but there is nothing more useless than an organ. When you will have made him a body without organs, then you will have delivered him from all his automatic reactions and restored him to his true freedom. They you will teach him again to dance wrong side out as in the frenzy of dance halls and this wrong side out will be his real place.

[letarasstuff]

One kind of intern

(A/N): This was requested by @greenslifestuff :) It took me a week or two because I had to interact with my friends in order to get the inspiration I needed 😅 Summary: The team gets to work with a gen z teenager. Let’s see how that goes.

Warnings: Swearing and gen z humour

Wordcount: 2k

✨Masterlist✨

___________________________________

“Team, this is (Y/N) (L/N). She will be interning for the upcoming three months alongside this team. (Y/N), these are Agents Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi, Derek Morgan and Doctor Spencer Reid and our Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia”, Hotch introduces a teenage girl to his team like this happens every day.

“Wait Hotch, we don’t get interns. What is she going to do, no offense, but getting us coffee or what?” Morgan eyes her suspiciously. She looks like any teenager grabbed from the street. A band t-shirt, a torn pair of jeans and a cup from starbucks in her hands. Nothing you would expect to even enter a federal building.

“No offence taken, Agent Morgan. I know having an ugly pickly bitch working with professionals seems weird. It’s just I have summer break and I thought it would be a good thing on my resumé if I already interned in the FBI, because I just graduated and I wanted to go to the academy this fall. But if you wanna do a vibe check with me first, that’s fine by me. Whatever floats your boat.”

The room falls silent. Then out of all sudden everyone turns to Garcia, who puts her arms up in defense. “I don’t even know half the things she said, ask her yourself.”

That’s how the BAU gets their first contact with Gen Z culture and let me tell you it is a wild ride, so buckle up your seats, drink your tea up because we aren’t going to make any stops.

“(Y/N), I need you to come with me. We are going to the M.E. getting the latest reports from our last case”, Morgan tells her while passing her desk. In the blink of an eye the teenager is ready, putting her denim jacket with various pins and bits of patches on.

“Derek, can we get starbucks on the way back? The pumpkin spiced latte is back on their menu and I am on withdrawal. Pleaaaaaasseeee”, she looks at him with a pouty face. Morgan smiles. “Ok, under one condition: We both get one, take awesome pictures and send them to the group chat and then we act like we didn’t get them anything, but we actually buy them their usual.” He got the hang of it pretty fast. “Deal, Sis.”

While they are in the car on their way to the M.E. the agent groans. “Ugh, road work ahead.” “Uh yeah, I sure hope it does!” Morgan eyes her from the side. His whole demeanor says ‘old and confused’.

“What was that, kid?” But (Y/N) begins to laugh. “Don’t you know vines? Short dumb and funny clips people made?” It’s safe to say that this afternoon he learns to speak in vines, getting on Rossi’s nerves because nothing makes sense anymore.

“Ok, I heard you wanted to become a profiler. So I thought I would show you some old cases and then you try to figure out the profile. I’ll present them to you like I do to the team, alright?” JJ and (Y/N) sit in her office, safe from curious eyes. “As right as the law, Ma’am.” 

“Good, this is a case from several years ago. It happened here in D.C. Three men were murdered execution style in the middle of the night in an alleyway. They were all from different backgrounds. The only connection between them was that they were evicted for some form of sexual harassment or assault. The UnSub also had a signature: A shot into their groin while the men were alive.”

Unfaced by the presented facts (Y/N) pops a piece of gum into her mouth. “It do be like that.”

“What?” “I mean, it’s obviously a woman. She experienced any harassment or assault herself. She also has excess to the files, I assume she works as a paralegal, since most of them are women. Female serial killers are extremely rare, but they are better organized. The only thing left to say is good for her getting revenge.” The blonde looks at the teenager with wide eyes.

“I-I guess but you know you can’t say anything like that to Hotch, do you?” She asks concerned. “JJ, I’m dead inside, not dumb. I know this.” But the agent shrugs. “Good. Though I really want to see his face.” “Mood.”

Penelope Garcia is the closest one to relate to Gen Z culture, since a great part of her time is spent on the internet. She happily learns about all the phrases and their meanings as well as the newest trends and hypes.

“Purp is sus, I tell you”, is heard from the lair into the hallway. Spencer and Derek look at each other with concern on their faces. “Do you think they are alright or do we have to-” “IT’S A SELF REPORT I SWEAR PENNY! YOU WORK WITH PROFILERS IN GANDALF’S NAME!” Spencer’s question is answered by that.

“Baby girl, crazy girl, are you doing good? Do you need help or something?” The older one asks warily. But it’s drowned in another screaming match. “I TOLD YOU PURP WAS THE IMPOSTER BUT YOU HAVE TO TELL THEM I VENTED WHEN I DIDN’T! I WANT ALL TIKTOKS I SENT YOU BACK!” “YOU DON’T DARE TO REVOKE MY TIKTOK PRIVILEGES!” “WATCH ME GARCIA!”

“Whoa girls, what about taking a break?” Morgan tries to diffuse the situation. “Yes, I think JJ got new pictures of Henry and Emily brought cookies this morning”, Spencer adds.

The girls, who mere seconds ago were ready to jump each other's throats, look at the other one. “You get the cookies and I go to JJ, deal?” (Y/N) asks. “Deal!” Without sparing the boys another glance they run out of the lair. Their devices are still lit up. A red figure shines into their faces. ‘AMONG US’ is written underneath it. “I think we get too old for this stuff, don’t we Reid?”

Spencer always thought he was young. Of course, his mind is older, but physically he is not that old. But the intern proves him wrong. And boy is he wrong.

“Spencer, is there anything interesting to know today?” (Y/N) takes a seat on his desk, distracting the genius from his paperwork. It is a common occurrence for her to go to him to ask for a fun fact.

“Do you wanna learn something about sloths?” His knowledge (or the writer’s) on this subject is astonishingly big.

“Spill the tea, sis.” “Did you kn- What? But I don’t have tea to spill. And I don’t wanna spill anything, I-” Reid rambles in confusion.

“It’s just a saying, Spencer. There is no deeper meaning to it then ‘Tell me everything about it’. You know, it’s mostly used for gossiping, but I don’t really like to gossip. That’s why I use it in a different context. You got it?” (Y/N) explains it to him in a soft manner, knowing her generation can be complex.

“Yeah, I think I do. Thank you for telling me. I really like the phrase. It has a nice ring. What about you spill the tea about all the phrases you know and I tell you some things from my knowledge?” “I think you got yourself a teacher, genius. But now tell me about the sloths, I love them.”

A few days later Rossi catches her doing some weird moves. “Are you having a seizure or what is your problem, youngster?” Even though he tries not to show it, David took a great liking to (Y/N), thinking of her like a granddaughter. Still, most of her actions confuse the hell out of him.

“I’m practising a dance for tiktok. My friends and I worked on a choreo we wanted to film later. Come here, I can show you.” And that’s what she does in the conference room. The teenager walks him through every move of the choreo, explaining the meaning to it and how it correlates with the song.

“And then you move your arm like that. Exactly like that! You did a great job, David! Are you sure you don’t want to come with me later? We can make you your own account and name it ‘Grandpa-on-tiktok’. You can promote your books over there and it’s a way to float with the trend!”

Seeing her this excited Rossi can’t do anything but agree to the idea. Also, he secretly liked doing the dance thing. It made him feel young again.

“(Y/N), you said you graduated this summer. But your file said you are 16?” Emily asks her one boring day filled with paperwork and countless cups of coffee. “It is what it is”, she mindlessly answers, too focused on filling out the work in front of her.

“I mean yes but how?”

“Emily, smart people exist. I know, coming from me hits different, but here we are.” Finally (Y/N) puts her pen away looking at the raven haired woman.

“What are you talking about? I can’t really follow you.” The more the intern says the more confused gets Emily.

She sighs. “I don’t want to leave you on read here. I kind of am smart somehow. Apparently I was smart enough to skip a grade or two. But it’s no biggie. Many peeps do this, so I don’t sweat it.”

“Even though I feel like you are selling yourself short here, I know you are an incredibly intelligent person. Someday you will be an awesome profiler and any team will be lucky to have you. I really hope we will be the lucky team. But I’m still not sure if this is what I should say in this context.”

“Emily, you are goals. This fam is squad goals. I really hope to be a part of this someday”, (Y/N) admits. “I’m sure Hotch will do his best to get you on the team, you became a great part of it. I can’t imagine a future without you.”

Sadly Prentiss has to get used to a time without the team’s beloved intern. On her last day (Y/N) knocks at Hotch’s door.

“Hey, I wanted to say thank you. The time with you and all the others was amazing and I learned so many useful things for not only the academy but also for my daily life. I really had a glow-up here”, she says after coming in.

Hotch motions towards the chairs in front of his desk. “Take a seat, (Y/N). I got something for you. See it as a compensation for not getting paid for your internship. You really did great work and a better job than some agents, who are doing theirs for many years already but don’t know half the stuff you do. You are a valuable member to the team.”

“Wait, you speak in presence tense. I leave you all this afternoon, you know that, do you?” But the Unit Chief only gestures to a white envelope on his desk. Quickly the teenager takes it and reads it.

“Are you serious Hotchner? Because I will cry you a river if you joke”, she threatens him.

“I’m dead serious, (Y/N). Even though half of your talks are difficult to understand, the other half is twice as useful and important. Additionally to that, you are like a fresh breath of air that the team needed. That’s why a place here will be available for you as soon as you graduate from the academy. I trust you that you will pass with flying colors, I had to promise that to Strauss.”

“Of course, Hotch. I swear on my Animal Crossing Island that I will do my best and more. Thank you so much”, she leaps into his arms.

The others watch the interaction from the bullpen, pretending to not get teary eyed. Their favorite Gen Z Kid will come back to them after all.

Taglist:

Spencer Reid

@calm-and-doctor

[qqueenofhades]

If/when they make a Joe/Nicky prequel movie, what are some of the Dos and Don’ts for them, with regards to historical accuracy. Like, what do you think they should include, and what do you think they should avoid?

Oof. This is a GREAT question, and also designed to give me a chance to ramble on in a deeply, deeply self-indulgent fashion. That is now what will proceed to happen. Consider yourself warned. So if they were miraculously to be like “well that qqueenofhades person on tumblr seems like she knows what she’s talking about, let’s hire her to consult on this production!”, here are some of the things I would tell them.

First off, a question I have in fact asked my students when teaching the crusades in class is whether you could actually show the sack of Jerusalem on screen. Like... if you’re making a film about the First Crusade, what kind of choices are you going to make? What narrative viewpoint are you going to uphold throughout the story? Are you actually going to show a slaughter of Muslim and Jewish inhabitants that some chroniclers described as causing enough blood to reach up to the knees of horses? (Whether it actually did this is beside the point; the point is that the sack went far beyond the accepted conventions of warfare and struck everybody involved in it as particularly horrific.) Because when you’re making a film about the crusades, you are also making it by nature for a modern audience that has particular understandings of Christian/Muslim conflict, religious warfare and/or tolerance, the War on Terror, the modern clash over ISIS, Trump’s Muslim ban, and so forth. The list goes on and on. So you’re never making a straight, unbiased historical adaptation, even if you’re going off the text of primary sources. You’re still constructing it and presenting it in a deliberate and curated fashion, and you can bet that whichever way you come down, your audience will pick up on that.

Let’s take the most recent example of a high-profile crusades film: Kingdom of Heaven from 2005. I’ve written a book chapter on how the narrative choices of KoH, aside from its extensive fictionalization of its subject matter to start with, make it crystal clear that it is a film made by a well-meaning Western liberal filmmaker (Ridley Scott) four years after 9/11 and two years after the invasion of Iraq, when the sympathy from 9/11 was wearing off and everyone saw America/Great Britain and the Bush/Blair coalition overreaching itself in yet another arrogant imperial adventure into the Middle East. Depending on how old you are, you may or may not remember the fact that Bush explicitly called the War on Terror a “crusade” at the start, and then was quickly forced to walk it back once it alarmed his European allies (yes, back then, as bad as America was, it still did have those) with its intellectual baggage. They KNEW exactly what images and tropes they were invoking. It is also partly why medieval crusade studies EXPLODED in popularity after 9/11. Everyone recognized that these two things had something to do with each other, or they made the connection somehow. So anyone watching KoH in 2005 wasn’t really watching a crusades film (it is set in the late 1180s and dramatizes the surrender of Jerusalem to Saladin) so much as a fictional film about the crusades made for an audience explicitly IN 2005. I have TONS to say on this subject (indeed, if you want a copy of my book chapter, DM me and I’ll be happy to send it.)

Ridley Scott basically sets it up as the Christian and Muslim secular leaders themselves aren’t evil, it’s all the religious fanatics (who are all made Templars, including Guy de Lusignan, going back to the “evil Templar” trope started by Sir Walter Scott and which we are all so very familiar with from Dan Brown and company). Orlando Bloom’s character shares a name (Balian de Ibelin) but very little else with the eponymous real-life crusader baron. One thing Scott did do very well was casting an actual and well-respected Syrian actor (Ghassan Massoud) to play Saladin and depicting him in essential fidelity to the historical figure’s reputed traits of justice, fairness, and mercy (there’s some article by a journalist who watched the film in Beirut with a Muslim audience and they LOVED the KoH Saladin). I do give him props for this, rather than making the Evil Muslim into the stock antagonist. However, Orlando Bloom’s Balian is redeemed from the religious extremist violence of the Templars (shorthand for all genuinely religious crusaders) by essentially being an atheistic/agnostic secular humanist who wants everyone to get along. As I said, this is a film about the invasion of Afghanistan and Iraq made three years after 9/11 more than anything else, and you can really see that.

That said, enough about KoH, back to this presumable Joe/Nicky backstory. You would obviously run into the fact that it’s SUPER difficult to make a film about the crusades without offending SOMEBODY. The urge to paint in broad strokes and make it all about the evil Westerners invading is one route, but it would weaken the moral complexity of the story and would probably make it come off as pandering to guilty white liberal consciences. Are we gonna touch on the many decades of proto-crusading ventures in Iberia, Sicily, North Africa, and other places, and how the eleventh century, especially under Pope Gregory VII, made it even thinkable for a Christian to be a holy warrior in the first place? (It was NOT normal beforehand.) How are we going to avoid the “lololol all religion sucks and makes people do crazy things” axe to grind favoured by So Very Smart (tm) internet atheists? Yes, we have to demonstrate the ultimate horror of the crusade and the flawed premises it was based on, but we can’t do that by just showing the dirty, religiously zealot medieval people doing that because they don’t know any better and are being cynically manipulated in God’s Name. In other words (and the original TOG film did this very well) we can’t position ourselves to laugh at or mock the crusader characters or feel confident in looking down on them for being Dumb Zealots. They have to be relatable enough that we realize we could BE (and in fact already ARE) them, and THEN you slide into the horror and what compels them to do those kinds of things, and THAT’S when it hits. Because take a look at the news. This is happening around us right now.

Obviously, as I was doing in my First Crusade chapter in DVLA, a lot of this also has to spend time centering the Muslim point of view, the way they reacted to the crusade, the ways in which Yusuf as an Isma’ili Shia Muslim (Kaysani is the name of a branch of Isma’ili Shi’ites, he has a definite historical context and family lineage, and hence is almost surely, as I wrote him, a Fatimid from Egypt) is likewise not just A Stock Muslim. In this case, obviously: Get actual Muslims on the set to advise about the details. Don’t make stupid and/or obvious mistakes. Don’t necessarily make the Muslims less faithful or less virtuous than the Christians (even if this is supposed to praise them as being “less fanatic” than those bad religious Catholics). Don’t tokenize or trivialize their reaction to something as horrific as the sack of Jerusalem, and don’t just use dead brown bodies as graphic visual porn for cheap emotional points. Likewise, it goes without saying, and I don’t think they would anyway, but OH MY GOD DON’T MAKE THIS INTO GAME OF THRONES GRIMDARK!!!! OH MY GOD!!! THERE IS BEAUTY AND THERE IS LIGHT AND THERE IS POETRY AND THAT’S WHY IT HURTS SO MUCH WHEN IT’S DESTROYED! AND THE CHOICES THAT PEOPLE MAKE TO DESTROY THOSE THINGS HAVE TO BE TERRIFYINGLY PLAUSIBLE AND FAMILIAR, BECAUSE OH MY GOD!!

Next, re: Nicolo. Evidently he is a priest or a former priest or something of the sort in the graphic novel, which becomes a bit of a problem if we want him to actually FIGHT in the crusades for important and/or shallow and/or OTP purposes. (I don’t know if they address this somehow or Greg Rucka is not a medieval historian or whatever, but never mind.) It was a Major Thing that priests could not carry weapons, at least and especially bladed weapons. (In the Bayeux Tapestry, we have Odo, the bishop of Bayeux, fighting at the battle of Hastings with a truncheon because he’s a clergyman and can’t have a sword). They were super not supposed to shed blood, and a broadsword (such as the type that Nicky has and carries and is clearly very familiar with) is a knight’s weapon, not a clergyman’s. The thing about priests was that they were not supposed to get their hands dirty with physical warfare; they could (and often did) accompany crusade armies, bishops were secular overlords and important landholders, monks and hermits and other religious preachers were obviously part of a religious expedition, and yes, occasionally some priests would break the rules and fight in battle. But this was an exception FAR more than the rule. So if we’re going by accuracy, we have Nicky as a priest who doesn’t actively fight and doesn’t have a sword, we have him as a rule-breaking priest with a sword (which would have to be addressed, and the Templars, who were basically armed monks, weren’t founded until 1119 so he can’t be one of those yet if this is still 1099) or we just skip the priest part and have him as a crusader with a sword like any other soldier. If he was in fact a priest, he also wouldn’t be up to the same standard of sending into battle. Boys, especially younger sons of the nobility, often entered the church at relatively early ages (12 or 13), where it was treated as a career, and hence they stopped training in arms. So if Nicky is actually out there fighting and/or getting killed by Yusuf several times for Important Purposes, he’s... almost surely not a priest.

Iirc, they’ve already changed a few things from the graphic novel (I haven’t read it, but this is what I’ve heard) so they can also tweak things to make a new backstory or a hybrid-new backstory in film-verse. So once we’ve done all the above, we still have to decide how to handle the actual sack of Jerusalem and massacre of its inhabitants, the balance between violence comparable to the original TOG film and stopping short of being exploitative (which I think they would do well), and the aftermath of that and the founding of the new Latin Christian kingdom. It would have to, as again the original film does very well, avoid prioritizing the usual players and viewpoints in these events, and dig into presenting the experiences of the marginalized and way in which ordinary people are brought to the point of doing these things. It doesn’t (and frankly shouldn’t) preach at us that U.S. Invasions Of The Middle East Are Bad (especially since obviously none of the characters/people/places/events here are American at all). And as I said already but bears repeating: my god, don’t even THINK about making it GOT and marketing it as Gritty Dramatic Medieval History, You Know It’s Real Because They’re Dirty, Violent, and Bigoted!

Also, a couple tags I saw pop up were things like “Period-Typical Racism” and “Period-Typical Homophobia” and mmm okay obviously yes there are these elements, but what exactly is “period typical?” Does it mean “using these terms just because you figure everyone was less tolerant back then?” We know that I, with my endless pages of meta on medieval queer history, would definitely side-eye any attempts to paint these things as Worse Than Us, and the setting alone would convey a sense of the conflict without having to add on gratuitous microaggressions. I basically think the film needs to be made exactly like the original: centering the gay/queer perspectives of marginalized people and people of color, resisting the urge for crass jokes at the expense of the identity of its characters, and approaching it with an awareness of the deep complexity and personal meaning of these things to people in terms of the historical moment we’re in, while not making a film that ONLY prizes our response and our current crises. Because if we’re thinking about these historical genealogies, the least we can do (although we so often aren’t) is to be honest.

Thanks! I LOVED this question.

[gemtalkpodcast]

We’re alive, we swear! (Along with some insight into making a podcast!)

Hello, everyone! Shane here!

I know it’s been quite a while since our last episode, but with the combination of life hitting Ken and I relatively hard, the holidays, AND Steven Universe going on a long hiatus, we haven’t been able to produce episodes for the past few months. On top of that, producing episodes is a bit more difficult now that Ken and I no longer live in the same building. We weren’t sure if we were going to continue making episodes after the movie ended, since we didn’t know what the Crewniverse had planned. Now that several episodes of Future has been released, though... we’re debating getting back into weekly updates. 

Now, I know I’ve said this before, but editing a 1-2 hour long podcast weekly is NOT a small feat, especially for a group of two people. Allow me to give a very brief explanation behind what goes behind making just one of these GemTalk episodes:

1) We watch the episode once for enjoyment, at this point we aren’t thinking about the show as theorists/podcasters, but rather as fans. We don’t put on our super-fanboy glasses until step 2. (15 min.)

2) We separately watch the episode critically. After we let the episode roll around in our heads for about a day, we sit down with the episode and watch it with an intense level of scrutiny, jotting down nearly everything that happens in the episode worth mentioning. This can take anywhere from half an hour to an hour, depending on how lore-heavy the episode is. (30-60 min.)

3) We research anything that could possibly be a clue, hint, reference, etc. This involves a great deal of internet sleuthing to uncover things we might not have known, such as references to places, events, subjects, or pretty much anything that we need more data on to make an informed commentary. This is one of my favorite parts, as I’ve learned a great deal about a broad list of subjects from doing research for a podcast about a cartoon. However, this is also one of the longest portions of the process. We do our absolute best to provide ONLY information that has been provided by several sources or thoroughly verified, while simultaneously keeping the show as fair and honest as possible. While we obviously have a lot of fun with what we do, we strive to maintain a level of honesty, kindness, and integrity in everything we produce. (60-120 min.)

4) The theory crafting section comes next, where Ken and I sit down and discuss how the recent information we’ve received could be connected to past events. Sometimes we go back and watch old episodes, or review old theories, or even plan out extensive hypothetical situations to see how well they hold up to scrutiny. Sometimes we let our minds go wild and come up with some pretty crazy theories, but we do our best to focus most often on where we think the show “will” go. Since most of this section is open conversation, plotting, reviewing, and theorizing, it happens sporadically over the next day or so. (120 min. - 180 min.)

5) Planning out the show comes next. It might be somewhat surprising to hear this, but our shows do have a fairly loose script. We’ve tried going nearly completely off the cuff before, and it just ends up as a rambling mess. To do this, we sit down with our separate set of notes, compare what we both feel is important to discuss, and determine the order in which we should talk about each topic. This is done to ensure that the flow of our conversation feels natural while running parallel to what is happening in the show. This also usually serves as a “mock run” of the episode, giving us the opportunity to practice how we’ll approach each topic and loosen up the ol’ lips. For me, it also means I’m chugging the last of my coffee before we go on! (60 min.)

6) Recording! This step doesn’t require a great deal of explaining, aside from some small “behind the scenes” facts you might not know. For example, there are several moments where one of us will trip over our lines and “bluh bluh flibberty gibberty” for a few seconds, which obviously gets cut. Also, one of us will occasionally say something very wrong (intentionally or otherwise), which leads to a fit of laughter, which also must be cut. Very rarely we’ll think of something right in the middle of an episode and literally stop what we’re doing to do research just to make sure we’re right. Either way, this usually ends up with nearly twice as much content as actually gets posted. (120 min.)

7) EDITING. The bane of my existence. The curse that accompanies my love of podcasting. This is where I make a massive cup of coffee, burn a pumpkin spice candle, get super comfy in my blanket, and sit at my computer for half a day. The process starts with taking a raw 2+ hour clip, canceling out the noise, adjusting the volume levels, editing out any unexpected background noise, cutting out any mistakes, ensuring that the audio around the cut sounds natural, fixing mic peaks (usually from laughing), removing “filler words” (Hmm, Ummm, Uhh, etc.), adding the intro and outro music, saving, and exporting. This whole process is pretty much the rest of my day once I get home from my day job. (240-360 min.)

8) Posting and advertising is the final step. We’ve pretty much gotten this down to a science at this point, so it takes a lot less time and effort than it used to. We upload the episode to Soundcloud, which beams it out to other podcasting websites, and then post it out on our social media pages. We also try (sometimes better than others) to create other fan content to keep our social media pages as more than just another reservoir of episodes. (30 min.)

If you add all of that up, it comes out to around 13-14 hours of work a week to generate a 1-2 hour podcast. That means GemTalk is practically a part-time job for each of us, on top of our full-time jobs. However, SU has been a wonderful part of my life that has allowed me to create something with my best friend. The time I spend working on the show is a labor of love, and just hearing that people enjoy listening to us ramble about the show for hours at a time means the world to me. Making GemTalk also provided Ken and I with the opportunity to reach out to the community during conventions and provide help in areas like writing, critical thinking, and (perhaps unexpectedly) cooking. It’s been a wonderful ride so far, and we wanted to reach out to everyone and let them know that it’s not over just yet. 

As stated when I began this (now much longer than anticipated) post, we’re currently holding discussions as to whether or not we should continue making episodes about Steven Universe Future. We’re not opposed to it, so it’s likely we will. Regardless of what we decide, however, please be aware that there will be something to look forward to! We can’t promise exactly when, but it’s likely to be within the next few weeks. I’ll do my best until then to try to keep everyone posted.

As always, love ya’ll and thanks for reading/listening!

- Shane <3

[soukoku-rivals]

The internet is back!

And so am I!

This is just an extra post to let you know I updated all the links in the previous pages and also that amazing dsknsk translated chapter 3.5 into Dutch. LINK IS HERE, check it out.

On a side note, tumblr seems to be eating all their messages to me unless it’s a private chat message or anonymous ask. Does anyone know what’s wrong with that?

Also, since I’m here, and I have a day off after 5 days of 12 hours horrid shifts at work I decided to make myself feel better and reply to all your comments today and add some chapter/volume notes to the update tomorrow.

Scratch that, as I started answering the comments it turned into me rambling about everything and anything. It’s all a mess down there, read at your own risk.

I love Fyodor. He’s supposed to be the bad guy but he’s just so amazing. Not only voiced by my absolutely favourite VA but also the type of character I love most [which is basically the same type of character Akira Ishida voices most of the time and I’m perfectly fine with that]. That means I’ll take great care drawing him every time and he will probably look soft and nice until he stabs you in the back. Even then he’ll look all soft and nice about it.

I mean, come on, this guy voiced Xellos. The love of my life. I’m Aro/Ace [by the way, happy Pride Month!] and if people I speak with about that keep insisting I ‘just haven’t found the right person yet’ I usually end up saying ‘of course, nobody is as perfect as Xellos’ and tell them about all my endless love for that jerk. They just leave the subject thinking I’m crazy.

Xellos is just the best, he was my first trickster and he made me love all the fictional and mythological tricksters there are. I often doodle him at work, alone or with other tricksters or having fun with Loki [a trickster] and Lex.

Or having lots of fun killing people when I’m in a bad mood.

Yes, I pin these on the corkboard in my room.

My love for Xellos carries over to Fyodor. To be honest, he is the reason I even started watching BSD. I sometimes check if Akira Ishida ever voices interesting characters and Fyodor looked like a fun one. So here we are. You can thank Fyodor for this comic.

Oh, how I love your comments, they always sound so excited. Make me feel I actually do a good job with this story. The internet is back only since yesterday evening, but I’ve been stalking my own blog on my phone over the last few days and let me tell you - you always make me smile, you wonderful person you! If I could, I would hug you.

It sound crazy but I swear, I’m not drunk or anything, just happy to be back.

It’s been a few years since Alex and Chuuya last saw each other. The only way they would recognise each other would be by the numbers and since Lex was unconscious and Chuuya always covers his tattoo [the hospital scene when he didn’t have his choker on was a nightmare] of course, Chuuya didn’t realise it was Alex he helped rescue. I had Atsushi only use his last name for the same reason. It was all very awkward. I’m glad it’s all out there now.

Again, the link is HERE, check it out!

Ahhh! So am I >.< we get to the good parts now!

I don’t think I had an origin of the choker in this story, if I did, I can’t remember. We can go with that!

I’m happy my comic can be of help! Good luck with your exams!

Your commets and reblogs are relief for my stress at work. That and my doodles. Did I say I doodle a lot at work? Well, lately I’m in Moomin fandom so most of my doodles have Moomin and Snufkin in them. However, the worse mood I am in at work, the darker the doodles get. So, even though the Moomin fandom is so nice and soft, I have doodles of possesed Snufkin holding a bloody knife or some mysterious, tentacle monter sneakily attacking him in the lake.

Aaand only after I wrote that last sentence I realised we’re here in an anime fandom and there’s only one thing tentacles want to do with people and I really did not mean in that way. I should hide that picture somewhere deep in a drawer so nobody can see it now.

But Moomins also help me keep calm. There were a few pictures where they’re still nice and cuddly.

The second one someone either threw away or took it because I left it where i leave all my pictures while my shift is in and it was missing the next day. Such a shame.

This reblog and comment combined with my love for Moomins made me think of an alternative way the story could go now.

Fyodor, poor sod, is just lonely. He knows nobody likes him and nobody would trust him since he’s such a bad villain so he erases Chuuya’s memories to befriend him. If Chuuya doesn’t remember him, he can’t hate him, right?

He takes Chuuya on a holiday, to the Disneyland or somewhere, and they have some happy gay time together and everything is nice and fun and nobody tries to kill anyone. And they fall in love. But than Chuuya gets his memories back [courtesy of Dazai] and Fyodor is devastated, he thinks Chuuya will hate him even more now. But Chuuya is such an awesome person and says ‘If you wanted go to Disneyland together, you should’ve just say so. I love Disney!’

And they get back together, though they never really broke up. And Dazai is like ‘alright, if it means Fyodor stops killing people I’m fine with that.’ He’s not fine. Obviously. Jealous little bastard, he hides it well, though. But Chuuya knows. Chuuya still has feelings for Dazai and they are mutual. And Fyodor knows as well. Guess what? Fyodor reminds Chuuya he has two hands and they all live happily ever after in an polyamorous relationship. The and.

But that’s not how this story goes.

I love brainwashing in fiction. I love it so, so much, nearly as much as I love Fyodor. So yeah, heh heh... um... you know, have fun reading next chapter, I guess.

Oh, I have a big thing planned for their reunion. Just you wait.

So, that’s it. I hope I didn’t miss anything. Have a lovely day!

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Madelaine Petsch//Girlfriend Tag

Request: Can I get a Madelaine petsch x female reader where they film a YouTube video together and it’s cute.?

“Hey guys! Its Madelaine!” She waved enthusiastically into the camera. “Today’s video is a little bit different because I have a special guest. And no, its not Vanessa. Its my real life girlfriend!” She cheered as you appeared beside her.

“Hi guys!” You smiled brightly at the camera and waved. “I’m so happy to be back!”

“We’re glad you’re back.” She smiled at you and kissed your cheek making you blush.

“So. What are we doing today?” You asked.

“Well. I went on Twitter and asked people what they wanted to see and the majority of people said they wanted to see us do the girlfriend tag.” She explained as she scrolled through her phone to check.

“Oooo. Very old YouTube. I like it.” You teased and she laughed.

“Okay! Lets get started.” She clapped her hands and looked at the first question. “Ooo. Its good already.” She started and turned to you.

“Should I be worried?” You asked hesitantly.

“Yes.” She replied blankly and then started to laugh. “How often do I make you mad?” She asked with a smirk on her face and you groaned.

“Really guys?” You asked the camera. “Are you trying to break us up?” You continued and she laughed loudly.

“If you answer correctly then you won’t have a problem.” She teased.

“Fineeee.” You rolled your eyes. “You don’t make me mad that often, if at all to be honest.” You said honestly. “Like, yeah we have arguments. But thats what every couple does.”

“So, really you’re saying that I’m an angel that can do no wrong?” She teased and you nodded, until she looked down at her phone to see what the next question was and you looked at the camera and shook your head frantically. “What’re you doing?” She asked suspiciously.

“Nothing.” You replied quickly and winked at the camera. “My turn to ask!” You said quickly and took her phone from her. “Okay. Where was our first date?” You turned to Madelaine who was smiling brightly at you.

“You organized a picnic at the park near yours. It was really cute! You picked me up, bought me flowers. It was the best!” She smiled at the thought. “Oh, and half way through it rained and you were so upset because you thought everyone was ruined but when we were trying to find somewhere to hide until the rain stopped, we walked past a band that was playing despite the rain and I grabbed your hand and started to dance with you.” She giggled and you laughed.

“Yeah. I thought you were crazy.” You admitted. “If only I knew that that was just the tip of the iceberg of your craziness.” You teased and she gave you an offended look. “I wouldn’t have you any other way though.” You smiled and kissed her cheek making her blush.

“You know.” She started talking to the camera. “We’ve been together for almost a year and she still makes me blush just by kissing me.” She continued happily.

“You can make me blush just by smiling at me.” You replied and looked at her.

“Awwwww. Babe.” She grinned at you before kissing you sweetly. “She’s so sweet!” She told the camera and you rolled your eyes.

“Shut up.” You replied and blushed. “Whats the next question?” You changed the subject.

“How long have we dated?”

“Thats easy! You’ve already told me and everyone else. Almost a year. Well, 11 months to be exact.”

“And its been the best 11 months of my life.” She beamed and you giggled.

“Next question!”

“What am I good at?” She asked and looked at you curiously.

“Everything.” You replied instantly and she laughed loudly. 

“I can’t be good at everything.” She rolled her eyes. 

“You can be, because you are.” You argued. “I’m being serious, you’re great at everything you do. You are an amazing actress, you’re the best singer ever. You’re the best friend anybody could ask for, as well as being the best girlfriend anyone could ask for. You’re just amazing.” You rambled and she started to blush. 

“I love you.” She giggled but froze when she realized what she said. 

“I love you too.” You replied almost instantly. Both of you looked at each other for a moment with bright smiles on your faces before you remembered you were filming a video. 

“Last question otherwise this video is going to be an hour long and a nightmare to edit.” 

“Make it a good one.” 

“Who said ‘I love you’ first?” She asked. 

“She did, just then!” You pointed at her. “And you got it on camera.” 

“You’re welcome internet.” She winked at the camera. “I think that is the end.” She said sadly and you pouted. 

“That sucks. I had fun.” You said sadly. 

“It just means that you’ll have to come back again.” She smiled. 

“I’d be honored.” You teased and she laughed. 

“I hope you enjoyed the video! Thank you for watching.” She waved into the camera. “And thank you for being in the video!” She hugged you and you laughed. 

“Its been fun!” You replied and she nodded. You filmed the outro and then waved before she turned the camera off. 

“I really do love you you know. I wasn’t just saying that because we were on camera.” She said honestly. 

“I know. I love you too. On camera and off.” You replied and kissed her gently. 

[forthesapphicsonly]

Being Peter Parker's twin and have the same powers as he (part 1)

So I watched Spiderman Homecoming yesterday again and I got this idea in my head. I'm already working on part two, which involves Infinity War (which I watched right away so my inspiration would not die).

You're Peter Parker's sister.

Not just any sister, but his twin sister.

And you have the same powers.

Peter won them first, of course.

And he probably should not have taken the spider that bit him home, so he would spare you the same fate.

But Peter, curious as he is, could not help himself and had to carry the spider so he could study it at home. What was your surprise when you came in and came across a little glass box with the little spider in your room?

"Pety!" You shouted, taking the box in hand and scanning the little spider. "Really, what are you up to now?" You murmured as you opened the small box. "There you are, be free" you watched the spider crawl through your fingers and stop in the palm of your hand.

You brought your face closer. You had already studied a little arachnology was a big one and that definitely did not look like a normal spider, it did not look like any species you knew.

"Oh!" You waved as the little traitor bit into you, instinctively stepping on it as it fell to the floor.

"Damn" with low curses, you shook hands. For a small spider, its bite hurt.

"Ang!" Peter appeared in the bedroom door, looking like he had run a marathon. He looked at your hand, then the glass box on the floor, back to your hand.

"No no no no .. did you let her go?" he looked exasperated, looking around.

"I stepped on her" you whispered, embarrassed.

You were going to let her go, and then you killed her. What a horrible person you were.

"She bit me, I acted by reflex" you showed the hand, where the mark of the bite began to stand out in red.

"What? You too? "Peter looked even more agitated as he paced the room, hands running through his hair, talking to himself.

"Pety!" You tried to get their attention. "What do you mean, too? She bit you? And why do you decide to bring her home?" You kept asking the questions while Peter continued to ramble by himself, leaving you more confused. "Peter!" You shouted and Peter stopped, wide-eyed for you.

"OK. I don't know what this bite will do to you, so I'd better tell you soon.." your heart missed a beat.

"WHAT? SHE WAS POISONOUS?"

And that was basically the story of how (as of 24 hours) you also had spider powers. Sense of spider? Argh, you could not tell.

I'm sorry to say that maybe you were going to develop eight extra legs or pair of eyes was not the thing that annoyed you more, but the fact that Peter did not tell you that before.

Your twin brother suddenly gains power and does not tell you anything?

This is completely wrong.

But unlike Peter, you were more sensible.

Since your parents left you at Aunt May and Uncle Ben's house and never came back, you chose to be the 'mature' between the two.

Peter was naive and scared and you swore you would protect him. Even from himself.

So Peter suddenly has powers and wants to go around saving the world and knocking down bad guys was your worst nightmare.

You were going crazy

Peter had powers

You had powers

Peter wanted to make a hero

You just got a scholarship at a school in Canada

There was a lot going on.

But you needed that scholarship.

Peter had his spot in Midtown high school (and only one of you could be there), so you struggled to get that bag. It was important to your future.

"Pety" you sat with your brother in the fire exit of the room. "I have to go." Pety was silent. He only had you and May and now you were going too. Just now that you had discovered the powers!

He had been imagining the incredible things they could do together

He didn't want you to be but he could not be selfish either. You gave up the Midtown spot so he could come in. He owed it to you.

"I know." Peter opened a small, but sad smile. "I know you're going to raze there" Peter muttered, tearing a little smile from you.

"Not as much as you" you joked back.

Like Peter, you had your genius too. But while Peter was a total nerd in science and in every area of ​​exact, your genius was more in language and computation. Where one stood out the other failed. And so they were perfect together. Like Yin and Yang.

"Peter, I want you to promise not to do anything stupid." Peter blinked for a moment.

"But Ang ..." he stuttered, ready to fight back.

"No, Pety, you can't go around making a hero. You're just ... you're just a kid, okay? It's dangerous. I'll be away, I will not be able to protect you, I ... " you caught, your emotions high and confused.

You were this mess since the bite, it was as if all the senses were super sensitive and tall.

"You're my age!" Peter protested. "You're my sister, Ang. Not Mom and Dad. I know how to take care of myself! "Peter got up and entered the room.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, before opening them and watching the sky for a few minutes.

"Just make some sense and think twice before you do anything, okay?" You knew he hear. Improved hearing and everything.

Turns out Peter did not take your advice.

Eight months after your move to Canada, you've heard of such a Spider-Man on the internet.

It took all your self-control not to scream in the middle of the street when you watched the video on youtube for the first time.

You filled Peter's mailbox that night. And Peter, prioritizing his own life, was smart to ignore all your calls and messages.

"I'LL KILL THIS PIPSQUEAK!"

You had no way out. Your brother was fighting crime in Queens and you were stuck in Canada until your spring break. Great.

You didn't blame him. Really.

You understood. You were brothers.

You had an unbreakable bond. You were so alike, but so different.

You would not lie, it would be hypocritical of you to say that you did not think or imagine or even acted against the crime at times.

If you had the power to do something, you could not just stand there and do nothing.

But it was your brother you were talking about. Your little brother (ok, you're only 5 minutes older, but still ...)

"Er, hey Ang ..." Peter mumbled on the other side of the video call.

The bastard had the decency to look guilty.

He could not ignore you forever.

As much as Peter wanted to avoid your anger, he never spent more than two days without talking to you. It was for text messages, video calls, calls.

Been for a week. A week without hearing your voice, without hearing from you.

That was consuming him, so he took the courage to finally call you.

You folded your arms over your chest. You were finally alone, your roommate had gone out to some party, so you could talk without the need for codes (yes, you had your own code).

"I should have told Aunt May" was the one answered instead.

Peter's eyes widened and even from another continent, you could tell that his heart would come out of his mouth.

"No no no no, you can't!" Peter pointed a finger at you. "You can't, you'd be giving yourself too"

You raised an eyebrow.

"It's not me who comes out dressed up as a neighborhood hero" you argued and Peter was stuttering with his own words.

"No Ang, really. You can't. I finally found my vocation. I finally found a utility. People need me. They need the spider man"

"And I need my brother. Live"

Peter shut up, you two quiet minutes.

At last, you sighed and rubbed at your temples, feeling the headache that was about to come.

"Okay, if you're going to do this, you need to tell me everything. Okay? You don't have to hide it from me. Banking the hero is not just kicking the ass of bad guys, comes with a load together and I don't want you to go through this alone. We used to tell each other everything. I need it to be that way again. "

And for all your fears and insecurities, Peter's smile on the other side of the canvas warmed your heart a little and gave you a little hope. One that maybe things were not going to turn out that bad.

"YES!" Peter jumped on the other side, jumping and celebrating. You laughed, rolling your eyes affectionately.

Peter finally had someone to talk to and tell and it was not anyone. But his person.

He could explode with happiness.

"Hang on. Are these webs? "Peter questioned when he saw you use your web launcher to reach for your water bottle.

You smiled.

"Yeah, we have a lot to talk about"

Now that you and Peter had no more secrets, the conversations between the two of you became more and more interesting.

"Wait, did you meet Tony Stark?"

"How did you manage to make your webs so semitransparent? Mine still needed a little more elasticity"

His fight against the avengers called Civil War (you would never understand this choice of title.This fight was anything but civil)

"You fought the avengers in Germany?"

"Technically, they were half of them. I stole the shield of Captain America"

When he won a real suit...

"YOU HAVE A REAL SUIT"

"Hey, I had a real suit, that's just improved"

"Puffs"

"You're just jealous because Mr.Stark made me a suit and you do not have one"

"I have a suit and it's less flashy than yours"

"WHAT? SHOW ME!"

But nothing had prepared you for Peter's fight against the Vulture. Not even a fight against the avengers (you who knew that even the team of the greatest heroes on earth were separated, they would never really hurt Peter). But Vulture, a vulture tried to kill him.

You felt sick.

"Hey, I'm fine. I swear. My wounds have healed. Look!" Peter was lifting his shirt, showing the still bruised back, which probably looked worse for a few days. Despite their new agreement to tell the truth, Peter avoided this subject for a few days, he did not want to worry you.

It did not work very well.

"Peter, are you sure you should continue with this?"

"I'm fine, I promise. I'm better at it too. Mr.Stark even offered me a seat as an effective member of the avengers." your heart was beating faster and faster with the news. "But I refused!" Peter hurried to explain. "I'm fine, but I'm not ready for this now, don't worry. I'll stay with the neighborhood for now and if the world needs Spider-Man, I'll be there. "Peter stopped talking when he noticed that you did not say anything.

You seemed to be on the verge of a panic attack.

"Ang! Breathe! Look at me, it's going to be okay. I need you to breathe"

You returned to queens a week later.

I'm already writing the second part. Do not worry it will not be long :D

[zombizombi]

Aperture

Doing the ESPN Body Issue was kind of a big deal. Jack had worked for ESPN on a few occasions, but this was the first time he’d been asked to shoot the Body Issue. It was the kind of assignment he knew better than to say no to -- especially when it was of the NHL’s first openly gay player, Kent Parson. Jack knew of Kent, of course. They’d never met, not really, only in passing on opposing teams in juniors, before Jack quit hockey and made his own life. Parson went first in the draft Jack’s father had planned for him. He’d become the hockey prince Jack’s parents had hoped he would be.

Jack did not begrudge him that life.

It was decided -- after a lot of back and forth between Aces’ PR, ESPN’s editor, and Jack -- that they’d do the shoot at the Aces’ practice facility in Las Vegas. Jack had arrived early and spent some time setting up a few lights on his own. After checking in with the stylists and the Aces’ PR rep, Jack took a few practice shots of the empty ice before heading back to the locker room to find his subject.

Parson was sitting in front of his stall wearing a robe -- provided by ESPN, from the look of it -- blowing on a cup of coffee while a stylist fussed with his blond hair. He glanced up at Jack, eyes a light, icy blue. “Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” said Jack, pausing in the doorway. “I’m Jack. I’ll be doing your shoot today.”

“Yeah,” Parson said. “Jack Zimmermann, right?” Pursing his lips, he blew on his cup again before grinning. “I’m Kent. I’ll be freezing my ass off.”

The corner of Jack’s mouth quirked into a little smile. “Yeah,” he said, “I think you will.” Looking around the locker room, he frowned for a second.

Locker rooms were such an integral part of a team. Jack knew from Kent’s interviews that he put a lot of emphasis on teamwork, that the team as a whole was an important part of how he saw the game. His gaze ran across the names above the stalls.

They should do at least a few shots there. Glancing behind Kent, Jack took stock of the locker space. “Let’s do some in here,” he said.

Kent shrugged. “You’re the boss.” It only took the stylist another two minutes to perfect his look while Jack positioned his lights where he wanted them, and then Kent shed the robe, handing it carefully to the shoot assistant to his left.

And he was -- Kent was really pretty, Jack realized, beyond just hockey muscle and blond hair. He gave Jack the same confident smile that he’d used on dozens of magazine covers. They went for several shots of him from the side, resting his elbows on his knees, bending over a bit. The Stanley Cup tattoo on his ribcage, inky black script, stood out against his pale skin.

Finding good shots of him was easy, as long as Kent cooperated. He had a habit of shrinking just a little every time Jack looked at him. If the shots were candid, they were perfect. A bit of hair fell in his face and Jack caught him tucking it back, smiling just a little, small lines appearing around his eyes.

But if he knew Jack was looking? Disaster. The same pose wasn’t the same at all. There was a weird tension to him, evident in the lines of his arms and shoulders.

Honestly, Jack had expected a level of comfort with public nudity that Kent was not actually displaying. Frowning, Jack lowered his camera after a few minutes. “Everything okay?”

Shifting on the bench, Kent rubbed the back of his neck for a minute before answering. “I’m, like --” He laughed, nose wrinkling, and Jack took a quick shot without thinking. The light was perfect. He had freckles across his nose. “I don’t know. It’s weirder than originally anticipated. Sorry, man. I’m not usually, like, so weird to take pictures of. I mean, I’ve done this before.” A faint blush bloomed on his cheeks, and Jack took another picture. Kent was pretty like that, shy and pink. “Well, not this, but, like. Photoshoots.”

“Sure,” Jack said. Apparently, Kent rambled when nervous. “It’s okay. You’re doing fine.”

Kent made a noncommittal noise, rubbing one hand along the back of his neck and into his hair, ruining the stylist’s hard work.

Okay, so, Jack needed to get him to relax. “Um,” he said, “watched anything good on TV lately?”

Kent glanced at the camera, frowning a little. “Uh -- I just binged The Crown,” he said.

“Oh, about the Queen of England, right?” Jack snapped another picture. “Let’s go ahead and just -- lace up some skates, yeah?”

“Yeah,” said Kent. He bent over to grab a skate, tugging it on quickly. “Okay. And yeah, about the queen.” Moving carefully, he propped his foot up on the bench and pulled the laces. “You know she was, like, a truck driver in the Army or something in World War Two? Crazy, huh?”

“She was a mechanic as well,” said Jack. When Kent looked up at him, surprise evident on his face, Jack smiled a little. “She was in the Women’s Auxiliary Territorial Service.”

Kent’s smile spread a little wider. “Yeah?”

“Mhm.” Jack motioned for Kent to do the other skate. “Some of those women crewed anti-aircraft guns and spotlights, did you know that? It was the women’s branch of the Army.”

“Go on, then,” Kent said, “tell me something else.”

“Turn to the left,” Jack said, “and I will.”

*

They did the next set of photos in the showers, no skates, and when the assistant handed Kent a large rubber duck, he burst into laughter. “For real?”

“For real,” Jack said, and he wanted that bright smile to stay on Kent’s face.

Holding it between his legs, Kent laughed again. “I’m so getting made fun of for this,” he said. “Big time. Huge.” He squeaked the duck.

“It is huge,” Jack said, and Kent’s face twisted as he tried, for a moment, not to laugh and then doubled over, giggling.

After several shots in the showers, Jack decided he wanted to move out to the ice for the rest of the shoot. After he accepted a towel from an assistant, Kent went back to the locker room to put his skates back on -- and let the stylist fix his hair again. Jack left them to their work, heading out to direct his lighting assistant and pick a spot for the backdrop they planned to use. He wanted more action, maybe a bit more with hockey equipment…

The sound of skates hitting the ice broke Jack’s train of thought.

“So,” said Kent, stopping next to Jack in his gloves and a towel, carrying a stick.

“Mmm?” Jack fiddled with his camera lens for a moment.

“Why’d you quit?”

Jack looked up at him.

“Hockey,” Kent added. “Why’d you quit?”

Ah. Kent had recognized him, then. Jack should’ve known he would -- it was obvious, he looked just like his father, and he’d been doing sports photography for a while. It wasn’t a secret or anything, it was just, well, people had sort of gotten used to him, so he didn’t get questions like he did when he first started. “I needed to be myself,” he said, eventually, because he didn’t know what else to say. It was hard to explain, even years after the fact, that he’d wanted to be his own person, that the pressure of being Bad Bob Zimmermann’s son was too much for him. He hadn’t wanted to be the next anything.

Kent nodded, face thoughtful.

“Why’d you come out?” Jack asked. Personal question for personal question seemed fair.

Kent glanced up at him, tilted his head, and his eyes looked green instead of blue. Jack pressed the shutter.

“I needed to be myself,” Kent said. The corner of his mouth curved in a smile, and something warm bloomed in Jack’s chest. They stayed like that for a moment, standing close together, their breath freezing in the air.

Looking back out at the ice, Kent cleared his throat. “D’you still play?” he asked. “Ever?”

“I coach a kids’ team,” Jack said, and he snapped a picture at the exact moment Kent’s face lit up with a genuine smile.

“Aw, cute,” said Kent. “They better than me?”

“They do have an excellent coach,” said Jack. He lowered the camera. “Okay, so let’s go ahead and do several passes skating -- I’ll get what I can with the movement, it’ll be easier than posing.”

“All right, all right.” Kent shivered a little. “So, just. Skate around. Got any tips for me, then?”

“You should work on your backhand,” Jack said, narrowing his eyes as he leaned just to the left to frame the shot. “Release a little faster.”

“Oh, right, okay,” said Kent. “Make for a prettier shot or something?”

“Your shots are usually pretty,” Jack said. “But I was serious -- the backhand’s a little slow, if you adjust your grip it’ll release faster.”

“Are you flirting with me?” Kent laughed. He grinned at Jack.

Jack glanced up from the camera. Was he? Was it obvious?

Kent’s shoulders dropped a little as the grin slid off his face. “I was kidding.”

Of course he was. Jack shrugged. “Don’t worry about it,” he said.

“Sure,” Kent said. He gave Jack an uncomfortable smile before pushing off with one foot, skating away.

Jack stood still for a moment, just watching him glide around the ice. Kent’s face looked… serene, at ease, and after a moment, Jack lifted the camera again, focusing carefully before taking shot after shot as Kent idly skated along. He didn’t know if they’d be useful or not, those pictures of Kent skating, but the lines of his body were perfect against the sheet of ice and Jack had never been able to resist the urge to distill a moment. When Kent paused in front of the backdrop, Jack moved to join him.

“We’ll do a couple here, okay?” he said.

“Whatever you say, boss,” Kent said.

Action shots, those were the bread and butter of the ESPN Body Issue. Jack gave Kent instructions about active posing, getting a few images of him taking shots, face intense as he tried to follow orders. He was pretty good at taking direction, leaning when Jack told him to lean and tilting his chin exactly the right amount when asked. It was just --

“C’mon,” Jack said, “flex. I’m serious.”

“I can’t flex any harder!” Kent insisted, laughing as he held the hockey stick and leaned forward for the shot. “C’mon! Is it done yet?”

“Not yet,” Jack said, taking another photo, grinning as Kent let out a little whine. “I thought you guys were tough!”

“I’m a weakling!” Kent insisted. “Haven’t you read the internet?”

“What, the whole internet?” Jack asked. “Okay, okay. You can stop, now. Let’s do some shots by the net.” He gestured with an arm so his assistants could prepare the set.

“Yeah, like, the entire internet,” Kent said, accepting a towel and wrapping it around his waist.

“I don’t have the attention span for the entire internet,” said Jack.

“Liar,” said Kent. “I bet you could get through hella Wikipedia on the right day.”

“Wikipedia,” said Jack, “is not the entire internet. Now go over there.”

“So bossy,” Kent said.

He took various pictures with the net in the background, including more of Kent skating and taking shots. “That’s about all I need of this,” Jack said, finally. “The next set is with the Zamboni, and then I think we’re done.”

“I’m actually, like. Freezing. Can we take a break or something?” Kent asked.

“Yeah,” said Jack, “of course, sorry. Yeah.” Checking his watch, he felt bad for not suggesting it earlier. They could set up the next bit while Kent took a break to warm up.

One of the assistants brought Kent a robe, and he shrugged into it so fast he dropped his hockey stick. “I’m just gonna --” he jerked his head toward the exit.

When Jack went back to the locker room after giving out directions for the set, Kent wasn’t there. It took him a moment to find someone who knew where Kent had gone, but eventually a stylist told him that Kent had stepped outside. Jack set his camera down.

Once outside, he found Kent sitting with his face tilted up toward the sun, eyes close. His hair was a brilliant sort of gold in the sunlight, and Jack wished he hadn’t left his camera inside. Kent reminded him of a flower.

“You’re doing great,” Jack offered, after a moment of silence. Kent cracked one eye open and Jack smiled. “We’ll be done soon.”

“It’s fine,” Kent said, voice a little flat. “I’ll totally be ready in a minute, sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” Jack leaned on the wall with one hand.

Kent looked up at him. “So you like history, huh?”

Jack laughed. “Yes,” he admitted. “Documentaries, that sort of thing.”

“That’s cool.” Kent looked out in front of him, staring at the parking lot. His lashes were long, darker gold than his hair. “I only watched The Crown because it looked pretty.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that.” Looking down at the top of Kent’s head, the freckles on his shoulders, Jack missed the way he’d laughed earlier, holding the duck.

“Why do you think they asked me?” Kent asked, a moment later, and Jack frowned.

“What?”

“To do this,” Kent said. “Why do you think they asked me?”

“Why did you say yes?” Jack asked.

Kent turned his head, looking up, and that smirk was back on his face, the one Jack had seen in post-game interviews a hundred times. “Haven’t you read the internet?” he asked.

“Like I told you,” Jack said, leaning in a little, “I don’t have the attention span for the entire internet.”

Kent sucked in a small breath, lips parted, and he looked like he was about to say something else when Jack’s phone buzzed, startling them both.

“I’ll see you back inside,” Kent said quickly, as Jack pulled his phone from his pocket. He pushed away from the wall and ducked back through the door, not waiting for a response.

Jack frowned.

By the time he got back to the ice, Kent was talking to an assistant, holding a steaming cup in both hands and smiling. He’d kept the robe on, presumably trying to stay as warm as possible until the last minute. When Jack joined them, camera in hand, the assistant smiled.

“Almost done here, huh?”

“Almost,” Jack agreed.

“I think everyone’s starving,” she said.

“Don’t worry,” Kent said, “I’ll be a good boy, I promise. We’ll get this over with.”

She laughed.

Turning to Jack, Kent smiled. “So, um. Sit on the Zamboni, huh?” He paused. “Did somebody clean it first?”

“I don’t know,” Jack said, and something in Kent’s smile faltered a little. “I can have someone --”

“No, it’s fine,” Kent said, “it’s fine, sorry. I’m -- I’ll just --” He climbed into the seat without another word.

Jack took a few practice shots, testing his framing before giving Kent a few instructions on how he wanted him to sit. “Just -- yeah, okay, perfect. Do that game day smile,” he said, and that got an actual laugh out of Kent.

“This one?” He smirked.

“That’s the one,” Jack said, and he snapped another photo as Kent draped an arm over the back of the seat. The smile slid off his face a moment later.

Jack didn’t think these shoots were usually so uncomfortable. The editor, when giving him his assignment, specifically mentioned matching people based on how she thought the shoot would go, that she’d thought about whose style would fit who. Maybe she had expected them to gel faster?

But then, they’d done so well, earlier.

“The, uh.” Jack motioned at the prop guy. The popsicle shots weren’t his idea, but the editor was convinced they’d be… something, Jack wasn’t sure what, exactly. But when the prop guy handed a rocket pop to Kent, he got a very confused look back, and something twisted in Jack’s stomach.

“Just, y’know.” The guy took it back, unwrapping it. “Here.”

Kent didn’t reach for it. “What is that?”

“It’s a popsicle,” the guy said. “Y’know. You eat it.”

“Yeah, I --” Kent swallowed, still not reaching for the popsicle.

Jack looked up as Kent turned his head, looking down at him from up on the Zamboni.

“I don’t wanna do this, okay?” Kent said, voice soft.

“Okay,” said Jack, because of course he didn’t. How had that not occurred to him earlier? He couldn’t ask the first out player in the NHL to do what would basically look like a softcore porn shot. Jesus.

“It’s really not --” Kent fidgeted a little. “I just --”

He didn’t have to explain. “It wasn’t my idea,” Jack said, cutting him off. “I don’t care about it. We’ll skip it. It’s no big deal.”

But what could he do instead? Sure, just the photos sitting on the Zamboni were fine, but -- “I’ll be right back,” Jack said. He handed his camera off to an assistant before running out to his car, grabbing a map out of the driver’s side door.

Would using a map on a Zamboni make sense? No. But would it be funny? Yes. Yes, it would. When he returned from the car, he handed the map up to Kent. “Here, we’ll do this instead.”

“A map?” Kent unfolded it, staring at it for a second.

“Yeah, ’cause you’re --”

“’Cause I’m driving,” Kent said. “Right?”

Looking up at him, Jack smiled softly. “Exactly,” he said.

Kent broke into laughter and that? That was how Jack wanted him. “How do you even have a paper map in your car in 2018?”

“In case I need it,” said Jack, because it was obvious. Why else would anyone have a map?

“You’re such a dad,” Kent said, and Jack snapped a picture of him, smile crooked and warm.

The rest of the shoot felt like it took minutes. With the map, they were able to create a funny, relaxed atmosphere, and Kent cooperated easily with the rest of Jack’s directions. They’d have plenty of material to edit and choose from, and Jack privately thought the photos with the map would be much, much better than anything he could’ve had Kent do with that popsicle.

When they were done, Jack packed his camera back up, thanking the assistants as they took down lights and returned things to their rightful places. Kent went off to the locker room, making sure to pause and thank everyone he passed along the way. Jack didn’t see him again until they met at the door.

“Thanks,” Kent said. He was back in clothes, now, a soft-looking shirt that read boring is best across the chest and a pair of blue shorts. He’d pulled his Aces cap on backwards. “For not insisting on the -- the whole, y’know. Fellating a popsicle thing.”

Jack shook his head. “Not at all,” he said.

“You know, I mean. I’m out already, I don’t really think the world needs, like. Naked photos of me putting dick-shaped stuff in my mouth --”

Whatever else he said faded out as Jack tried not to think about Kent looking up at him from a different angle, mouth wet and open. Fuck.

“Oh my god,” Kent said, voice breaking through Jack’s thoughts. “You’re imagining it now, right? Dammit! See? I knew it!”

“I wasn’t!” Jack protested.

“Yeah, right,” said Kent, but then he laughed. “Fuck. Okay, well.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, biting his lower lip for a moment.

“So you like boring stuff,” said Jack.

“Yeah,” Kent said. “You know. Like, uh.”

All right. He was just going to go for it. He was pretty sure he hadn’t imagined that moment earlier, outside in the sun. “Like kids’ hockey coaches?” Jack suggested, and he was gratified to see Kent flush just a little. He mumbled something Jack couldn’t really catch and then chewed on his lower lip again, not really looking at Jack’s face.

“Listen, I’m actually really bad at the whole reading signals thing,” Kent said, after a little bit of silence, “but, um. If you’re --”

Jack held out his business card. “Here’s my number,” he said.

“Oh,” said Kent, “okay. Great. Signal received, then.”

“My cell’s on the back,” Jack said.

“Oh,” Kent said again, turning the card over in his hand to reveal Jack’s bold print across the back. “Are you, um. Busy?”

“I am now,” Jack said.

( on AO3 for @topieornottopie as part of the KPBB 2018! )

[anamelessblade]

🔥

Hi I love u sly. Sorry u get the long rant. and its not going under a read more im tired.

Deep breath– sorry if this pisses anyone off or if you lose all faith in me this has been stewing. 

Write whatever the fuck you want. Yeah, even that really shitty thing everyone is going to scream and yell about and call you all sorts of nasty terrible names for. Yeah, even THAT subject everyone says you should not touch with a ten foot pole.

im being vague on purpose. you know the type of subjects.

‘But Raive what the fuck that subject is awful and condoning shit and romanticizing–’

Let me be clear: Just because I’m saying this, does not at all mean I condone everything that is written. It does not mean I think everything should be written and put out there for public consumption. Maybe it shouldn’t be. Maybe it should be somewhere private or maybe it shouldn’t be. Honestly I’m not sure. All I know is that there are so many people here saying this is a SAFE PLACE and that it should be that for everyone--but this is the internet. It was never safe (i remember my parents telling me to never give my name out, be careful who you talk to be aware. dont give out your age. don’t do this. a lot of you need to realize that too because everyone is always asking for information and i don’t need to verify who i am IRL with you because that’s fucking scary in and of itself). You have to make your safe space by using the tools provided to you to keep the content you don’t want in your face out of it. If you see something you don’t like and it bothers you, that means you found something that bothers you. I’m sorry, I am honestly 100% sorry you have to confront something that you do not like and which may or may not trigger you in some way because of some other circumstance that occurred. Unfortunately, what other people do and write and how they act is entirely out of your control. You cannot make anyone do anything they do not want to--and that includes people who are actively out to hurt others. 

With that said.

 If two consenting adults decide to write something and they tag it and they put all the content warnings in the world and you still go to their blog and come out and tell them they are wrong and immoral and a horrible, horrible person, that’s on you. There is shit I won’t write and dont agree with and things I wouldnt tell anyone to write, but art and writing is not meant to be comfortable, it pushes boundaries, even the boundaries you think should not be crossed. And if it crosses your own boundaries, then you do what you have to make yourself feel comfortable

(please note I am talking about purely fictional things and events not when people come out rping ACTUAL N*ZIS)

'But Raive… what if its hurting people? What if someone uses that writing for something actually irl bad?’

I hate to say this, I really do, but if someone is going to hurt someone and has already decided go out of their way to do it, they are going to do it whether or not someone’s horrifying all-taboo, all squick rp/fic is out there. 

Dont get me wrong. Like I said, there are a lot of things that I think probably shouldn’t be written. But I’m not going to condemn anyone for it so long as they themselves outside of the fiction are a decent person. Contrary to what everyone rages about and shouts– there is a difference and a line between fiction and reality. No it’s not that cut and dry. Some things do affect people and change opinions, but it’s not such a simple thing as 'I wrote this fic and now everyone is going to think its okay’. The things that actually blur the line of fiction and reality (such as rac.ism and h.omophobia and things of that nature) it’s probably already in the hearts and minds of the people watching or reading that media and they will use it as an example of feelings that were already there, because it reflects them. I don’t think any well-meaning person would watch or read a scene with a murder and come out thinking that murder is alright. There is a line when it comes to specific subjects compared to others, and i think that encompasses most of the problematic writing and work that everyone so ardently opposes. Because, most of the people writing these subjects are not condoning it themselves, they’re just writing it as fiction. 

Again, I don’t know if that’s right or wrong, that’s not what I’m about to make a judgment call on. I’m just saying this black and white ideology of policing CONSENTING ADULTS who are NOT OUT TO HURT ANYONE needs to stop. They tag and put all the warnings and say out right in their rule that they write certain subjects you are not comfortable with and you still decide to follow or to interact or whatever-- dude that. is. on. you. and you need to realize that.

I know anecdotal evidence is not like the most scientific way to go about this kind of thing, but i’m at work/taking a break and can’t look up any articles on pyschology or whatever to ‘prove’ my point. Those of you who don’t agree won’t read or want to read it anyway. 

I spent around...almost i’d say ten years on this one forum. Back in its heyday when it was popular there were a lot of us writing shit that...should not have been written. Things I would not write now, but was okay with back then because I was young and not necessarily aware. My idea was it’s fiction. There’s nothing wrong with it inherently. and that’s how most of us were. Nobody came out of the woodworks to say this was AWFUL AND YOU ARE EVIL AND TERRIBLE FOR WRITING THIS because we all spoke to each other ooc and we didn’t conflate in character with out of character. Any time something bad happened ooc it was dealt with, the person removed and that was that. Because no one was hurting anyone IC, it was the ooc that mattered.

 IC drama was IC drama no matter how crazy and shitty it got (and there was a lot of IC drama that everyone watched and commented on and honestly it was insane)... but and this sounds odd perhaps, but writing and reading those things gave me a perspective I wouldn’t have had otherwise. I researched, I looked into things, I wanted to portray things right--and it gave me a really wide view and understanding of what people in certain situations go through. I’m not saying go write these awful things so you can understand the horrors of it. I’m just saying it taught me to empathize better and actively try to understand what other people go through, I guess. 

Anyway. this got long and a little rambly and I wish I could get my point across half as well as I formulated it in my head but...

TL;DR: write what you want, no matter what it is. Tag all the warnings. Put all the content warnings that you can so that those who dont want to see that shit can block it. and those of you who want to attack people who do all of the above, please don’t. Just block and blacklist and do all the things necessary for yourself. And be aware that the world and the internet is a scary place that does not cater to you. 

[veryangryhedgehog]

“Good, Old-Fashioned Snooping,” an Ede Valley story by Hedgehog.

Mike’s first few weeks at St. Adelaide’s had been a little hectic, to say the least. First, there was the fact that he had to abruptly adjust to an entirely different lifestyle. Then there were the classes, which were much more difficult than their public school equivalents; he’d just coasted through those with solid Bs. But most taxing of all were the numerous mysteries of the school.

At first, he’d just done some casual research, looked some stuff up on the internet, asked teachers for info, that kinda thing. But as he learned more, more and more questions began to appear in the inner folds of his brain. So then he’d moved to “real research”. He’d actually convinced Jilli to go to the library with him, survived an encounter with Abigail “four-eyes” Hodge, and gathered several old, dusty tomes to peruse.

He’d learned a lot of interesting things from those books. St. Adelaide’s had been a mental ward back in the 1800s, before finally being shut down for good in the ‘40s, he’d known that much already. The official story was that it had been abandoned for years afterward, but Mike had found several sources—only one of which had been a shitty site that hadn’t been updated since 2002—that pointed to the buildings being used as a government research facility of some kind in the ‘50s, presumably to combat the Soviets. He read some crazy ramblings by a conspiracy theorist about creating “Paragons of the Future,” but that seemed way too farfetched, whatever it even meant.

Regardless, the land was finally reopened as a school for Gifted Youth in the ‘70s, and had remained so to this day. Unfortunately, every source he’d found had failed to mention the founder of the school beyond a few off-handed references, which wouldn’t have seemed odd except that every article, website, and book avoided the subject like clockwork. Searching for the Director directly did nothing either, and this only made his thirst for knowledge worse.

And then, one afternoon, Doug stumbled into the room without warning practically carrying Jilli. Something was clearly wrong. She looked just like Doug did when he returned from his sessions. But of course Doug didn’t tell him anything, just shut them both in his room and locked the door. Though Mike couldn’t hear any specifics, he couldn’t miss the sound of sobs that reached his ear through the thin wall.

Mike had known for a while that he had no shot at Jilli. That had been made abundantly clear the morning he opened his door to use the sink only to see Jilli brushing her hair with only a striped bra to cover her thin waist. And she certainly hadn’t spent the night in his room. He was pretty sure he would have noticed. But still, he cared about her, as a friend, as a person. And so he worried.

That worry quickly turned into obsession. There was something going on at this school, and now it had been made personal. It wasn’t just about solving a mystery now, it was about saving his friend. Correction: friends. Doug was neck-deep in it too, whatever it was, and Mike was the only one who could save them. He was the only one that they didn’t expect.

Doug later confirmed that Jilli had indeed been subjected to a session, but he refused to say more. “It doesn’t matter, Mike.”

“But it does!” he argued. “We can help her!”

“I said, it doesn’t matter!” Doug nearly shook with anger, or was it fear? “I hate it just as much as you, but there’s nothing we can do, okay? Nothing unless you want to end up dead, or worse.”

But Mike found himself increasingly undisturbed by that idea. He hardly slept, staring at his computer screen until the wee hours of the morning as he ventured into increasingly sketchy parts of the internet to find anything at all that could help him. It was difficult work. Many sites were just mad ramblings by unstable individuals, or conspiracies about Atlantis and the lizardmen who had taken over the government. But gradually, a bigger picture began to emerge.

The more he looked, the more plausible it seemed that St. Adelaide’s had in fact, actually been a government facility all those years ago, at the height of the Cold War. Info on what really went on in there was thin, most of the recovered documents had been highly redacted. The facility had been dedicated to something called “Project Paragon”. There had been many experiments, but it seemed as if only one had been successful: a singular flower, a Buttercup, and had received the codename “Paragon Alpha”. Why they were experimenting on flowers of all things, Mike had no idea.

He thought that maybe he’d understand more if he had any knowledge about the Cold War. So he wandered out of Dunsany and down to the library, which he was surprised to find was locked. The problem was that Mike was so distracted by his thoughts that he didn’t actually realize this fact until about two minutes of pulling at it.

Just when he was about to turn around and go back to the dorm, the handle turned and the door creaked open. Abigail peeked her head out, and blinked at him, glasses eschew.

“Mike?” she asked. “What are you doing here? It’s two o’clock in the morning.”

Mike blinked. He hadn’t even realized it was dark out. “Is it?”

Abigail nodded hesitantly. “Are you alright? You... don’t look so good.”

Running a hand through his tangled hair, Mike couldn’t answer. He had no idea how alright he was on a scale of alrightness. The world seemed like a big confusing box with a bunch of colored squares. What in the world were they called? “I... I’m fine,” he answered instead. “I need-n-need a book.”

“A book?” she raised an eyebrow. “At this time of night?”

Rubix cube! That’s what it was. Wait, no, Mike, focus. “Wait,” he realized a second later. “What are you doing here at this ti—“ but he was cut off as she opened the door.

Victor was standing in front of Abigail’s desk, cheeks flushed, hair disheveled, tie undone. “Oh,” he said. “Hello, Mike.”

Though he opened his mouth to question this whole situation, Mike decided that he didn’t really want to know the answer. “Hi.”

“Now, you’ll forgive me for getting you on your way as quickly as possible,” she sighed, before turning from Mike to Victor and then winking. “Duty calls. What sort of book are you looking for?”

Mike had to force himself to not just keep looking back and forth between the two like a bobblehead. Man, was he the only one who wasn’t getting any? No, focus, whoa he was tired. “Uh... the Cold War,” he finally got out. “Scientific advances during the Cold War.”

Thinking for a moment, Abigail nodded. A strange look crossed her face for a moment, but was gone before Mike even knew if it had actually been there at all. “Yes, that’ll be in the history section, over here.” She began leading him by the arm to the back side of one of the looming shelves. “That’s a very specific topic, you know.”

“It’s for class,” he said, a little too quickly. “It’s due tomorrow.”

“Hence the all-nighter,” Abigail nodded. “Well, let me know when you find what you’re looking—”

Again, she was interrupted by a pounding at the door. “Goodness gracious, it’s like no one ever sleeps around here. Please forgive me.”

She meandered off through the shelves, and Mike began to skim the titles of the books, trying to find something that might help him, something that wasn’t written by a conspiracy theorist nutcase. No, he didn’t want communist or capitalist propaganda either. A vein in his temple was beginning to pulse from lack of sleep, but sleep would just get in his way.

“Jilli?” Abigail’s voice reached him. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you about something.”

Mike froze. What was Jilli doing here? She should be asleep. He peeked around the corner of the bookshelf, and there she was in the doorway, her multi-colored hair was unmistakable. Oddly enough, she looked fine, composed even, even though she had just undergone a session less than forty-eight hours ago. He thought he saw her head turning towards him, and Mike skittered back behind the bookcase. If she saw him like this she’d ask a lot of questions.

“I need your help,” she continued. “Yours and Vic—oh that’s convenient.”

“Hello,” said Victor sheepishly.

Jilli looked back and forth across the cluttered room. “We’re alone, right?”

His heart clenched, Mike didn’t breathe.

“Well—” Victor began before Abigail quickly cut him off.

“Yep. It is 2 AM, after all.”

Mike relaxed, though now he was confused. Why would Abigail lie about that? She had no motive for doing so, unless she... wanted him to hear this?

"Alright,” Jilli began, breathing deeply. “This is going to sound crazy, but bear with me.”

The silence in the room was almost palpable.

“I’m going to overthrow the Director.”

No one spoke for a moment, and Mike had to stop himself from interjecting. Finally, Victor did it for him. “What?” he asked. “What do you mean ‘Overthrow the Director?’ She’s not a dictator, she’s a principle!”

“You of all people know that this isn’t a simple school,” Jilli scoffed. “Why do you keep that project of yours under a sheet? Because she and her lackeys are always watching you. We’re constantly overworked with classes and made to maintain a strict regimen so we can’t stop to think, and we all know someone who’d gotten fucked up by one of her psychotic sessions. We all live in fear that we might be next. This is the very definition of a fascist dictatorship.”

“But... but this is a school,” Victor replied weakly. “We chose to be here.”

Again, the room was quiet, and the others looked at each other warily. “I didn’t choose to be here.” Jilli broke the silence. “My agent forced me on a plane here and I haven’t heard a word since. Did you?”

“My parents found my projects and almost sent me to a mental ward before St. Adelaide’s contacted them,” Victor admitted.

“It’s the same for me,” Abigail whispered.

Jilli nodded. “So none of us are here of our own freewill, but we just assumed everyone else was.” She turned to Victor. “Still convinced this is just a school?”

“I...” he began, before hanging his head. “No.”

“We’ve been abandoned, but we don’t need to continue living in this hell.” Jilli gritted her teeth. “Se we’ve gotta fight back. But I can’t do it alone. I need your help, both of you. Are you with me?”

“This is insane.” Victor shook his head. “But alright.”

“I’m with you too,” Abigail smiled. “Oh, this will be fun. I’ve never been part of a revolution before.”

Behind the bookshelf, Mike was near panicking. What had the Director done to Jilli? This wasn’t like her at all! This plan was absolutely ludicrous! It could never work. But most of all: what would convince her to even try?”

But one question sat the heaviest in his mind: what was he going to do about it?

~~ o ~~

In the cold night air, just beyond the boundary of St. Adelaide’s, someone else was watching. Or rather, two someones, on the back of a flying motorbike.

“You know,” Lilith said, frowning as she watched Buttercup’s intense stare, “this is the fourth night we’ve done this. What exactly are you looking for?”

“I’m not looking,” Buttercup replied simply. “I’m waiting.”

“Okay, what are you waiting for, then?” And if you say Christmas, I swear to god...”

“I’m waiting for her to make a move.”

Lilith sighed. “I’m tired of waiting. Why don’t we just go trash the place now?”

“Because our goal isn’t just to ‘trash the place’,” Buttercup rolled her eyes. “We have a very specific target. And besides, the utter destruction of a school without provocation would draw unnecessary attention to us. And there’s a lot of kids in there. I’d rather not waste life unless I have to. You must admit, the school is the perfect cover.”

Once again, the small, pigtailed child juxtaposed with her grim war general speech momentarily weirded Lilith the fuck out, and she wondered for the umpteenth time just what this kid could have gone through to make her like this. The Talons, much to her chagrin, had been kept on a strictly need-to-know basis.

She hadn’t ever been told why exactly they had been undertaking these “reconnaissance” missions for the last four nights.

“She’s going to do it soon,” Buttercup muttered. “She’ll use a distraction to disappear, complete the experiment. She’s so close, I can feel it.”

“And that’s when we strike!”

“No, then we keep waiting.”

The motorbike dropped a centimeter in Lilith’s confusion. “What? Why?’

“Because that’s when our allies will emerge.”

“But we don’t need allies. Let’s just go destroy the place now.”

“No.” Buttercup put her foot down. Metaphorically. Because they were in the air. “The three of you couldn’t beat me. You won’t stand a chance against what’s in there. And it’s not all about strength. So we wait.”

“But waiting’s boooorrring.”

“I know, my friend.” Buttercup nodded. “I know.”

[beccafy-blog]

Why Making use of Golf Clash Cheats is So Amusing and Why You Ought to Consider Using a single Of These Cheats

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[wisestudentninja]

June 2018 Featured Creator

What is a Featured Creator?

Write Way Studio’s “Featured Creator” segment is my way of showing appreciation for the creators of the world.  Creative outlets are limitless, because there is no end to human imagination.  Every month shows the succeeding featured creator.  If you would like to be a part of this collaborative project, contact me at studiowriteway@gmail.com!

  My ninth guest creator is the artist known as PonPox!

Introduction

Known on the Internet by their username PonPox, they also go by Pon!  They are twenty-four years old with their birthday landing on March 16th.  Their astrological sign is the Pisces, better known as the twin fishes!  They have earned a bachelor’s degree in video game design with a focus on 3D art.  At the moment, they are part of an internship with a mobile game company as a 3D/2D artist for a vocational university.

Although they are a 2D artist at heart with both traditional and digital media, PonPox also works with 3D.  They create fan-art for a variety of fan-doms they are currently interested in.  When they have spare time, they adore experimenting with digital art.  With the digital come the opportunities with colored pieces and more advanced work.  In comparison to traditional work, digital has become so much easier because of Ctrl+Z and able to freely move pieces around as desired.  Programs like Photoshop and SAI help them practice even more with all artistic elements and experimentations.

However, because of their current schedule, most of their creative drawing time occurs on their commute to and from work, an estimated three hours per weekday, and lunch breaks.  In concerns to the consequence of the impending time crunch, they elaborated that their artwork was bits of “messy sketches, cleaner lead drawings and sometimes inked pieces.”  The minimum of their supplies are sketchbooks, mechanical pencil, and an eraser.  At the moment, they possess an interest in coloring, so they also bring along color pencils in order to satisfy the urge.

The most common subject matter for them is fan-art.  Original pieces are a close second, particularly folklore and fantasy creatures.  Fauns, harpies, centaurs and Scandinavian-styled trolls name only a few.  They like to place them into a modern setting with creative narratives attached.  The chronicles even develop into full blown backstories during their commutes.  The ideas may even develop into something more in the future.  But right now?  They are just ramblings to them.

What Sparked the Creator Passion?

How It All Started

They started drawing around the same time as everyone else would, in kindergarten.  The only difference is that they did not want to stop.  They admitted that a huge artistic milestone for them had been the introduction of manga and anime into their lives.  They were about nine or ten when they first started reading manga.  They later would try to mimic the manga styles they encountered.

All about the Art

The Epiphany

PonPox recalled some sort of news coverage a couple years after they had been introduced to the world of manga.  The topic of discussion?  “How to draw manga” tutorials, of all things!  They then remembered paying very close attention to the instructions the news provided.  A new development occurred to them from the experience that never registered before, that “you can learn techniques to draw better.”

Their parents later gifted them with a “how to draw manga” book that actually managed to do a decent job in jumpstarting their journey as an artist.  They learned so much in a short time as well as lucked out with the book being one of the decent tutorial texts.  It provided a bit of everything for artists, from color wheels, basic anatomy, and even shading rules.  It even shared multiple drawing styles and artists, revealing how manga is just one kind of style that happened to originate in Japan.

Manga and Anime

Manga and anime continue to be PonPox’s biggest inspirations.  It’s the main reason they started to focus on their art more versus simply aimlessly drawing.  However, a clarification is in order:  they are not a manga artist.  The term implies that the artist is creating manga in Japan and they definitely do not like being labeled with that assumption.

Experimentation

Fantasy and folklore creatures interest them since the beings can freely break away from the norm.  People-watching heightens their creativity and curiosity.  Humans fascinate them so, just like the creatures.  They began to tinker with various body modifications, from body hair, wrinkles, body fat, muscles and body types as a whole.  Part of the experimenting is due to them trying to escape from the typical anime/manga body imagery.  For the mythical creatures, they feel that “you can bend the rules more . . . [since] their beauty standards and physiques can be very different than what humans are used to.”

Future Projects

At the moment, there is no definite answer.  PonPox does know, however, that they will never stop drawing.  They sometimes works with their girlfriend on comics of an AU (alternate universe) for the character Leorio from the anime series Hunter x Hunter on a side-blog.  They are always creating more art for their blog, though!

There may be the possibility of prints, keychains, and other products (that is the hope anyway).  They are simply creating art and completing commissions at the present time.

Where to Find You? Support You?

PonPox is available on the Interwebs, from looking at their artwork to business purposes.  To satisfy your curiosity, look at the information provided below!

  Two sides of Tumblr house their art!

Main Art Blog

Side-Blog (that also focuses on art)

Portfolio for their 3-D work!

Support their work or even request a commission!

Ko-fi

Commission Details

Last Tidbits

As crazy as it may sound, PonPox had no clue narwhals were real animals!  Somewhere they heard about narwals being the unicorns of the sea and it just stuck.  It wasn’t until they were about thirteen or fourteen that they stumbled upon a photograph of one.  It completely blew their mind!  To this day, they still think narwhals are “some of the most magical creatures out there.”

Important Notice

Please understand that some information will not be shared by the creator’s request.  If you cannot understand that, there is not much more I can do to help you.  Safety is a top priority here, and I am here to help the creators, not instigate negative behavior.

Collaboration Disclaimer

The information provided in my Featured Creator articles is, in fact, from the real people, not some random Internet bot.  I do not use random stock photos to fill an imaginary photo quota.  Any photos in the Featured Creator segment are provided by the creators with permission to use them in this manner.  I want to support the original person behind the work, not a random online copycat creeping around.

To PonPox,

Even though we could not work on this as much as I would like, I hope you enjoyed the collaboration as much as I did!  I know that it was hard to consistently connect for the collaboration, especially when some unavoidable occurrences happened on my end and you having work as well.  It was definitely not easy and I cannot apologize enough for my lack of professionalism when the situations continued to arise.  It also provided me with a painful reminder of the unfortunate reality my technology presents me (since I had to rig it so much just so we could work on the rough drafts – long story!)

We beat the odds!  This finished product you’re reading right now is proof of that!

I appreciate this opportunity you gave me and hope we can work together again soon!  As crazy as it may sound, you are the first person on Tumblr I have actually asked to work with me (and answered back!)  I love your unique art style and quirky personality.  You are one of the people I look up to, especially when it comes to art.  Until next time, I wish you the best of luck!

Sincerely,

Jasmine Love

{Write Way Studio creator and blogger}

MLA Citation (8th edition)

PonPox.  Personal E-mail Interview by Jasmine Love. June 2018 Featured Creator Collaboration, 20 May – 5 June 2018.

[goldendream-s]

don’t be a fool (pt. 2)

Summary; Promises can be hard to keep, and the deal made between Y/N and Shawn is no different. With hectic schedules and new friends, things between the ex-couple certainly take a turn for the worse.

PART ONE || PART THREE

MASTERLIST || REQUEST

three months later

You weren’t going to lie when it came to the break-up between you and Shawn. Things were scattered everywhere and your empty apartment soon became an apparent dumpster as well. It had probably been one of the most dramatic and tiring months of your life thus far. You haven’t had the motivation to even leave your apartment let alone your bed, and everything around you only further reminded you of Shawn and the great times you two once shared together. 

After Shawn left you, you were forced to toss out anything and everything Shawn left behind. You couldn’t risk having any remaining memories of him. It wasn’t easy, but you eventually got yourself to make your apartment Shawn and heartbreak free.

You were no longer in constant contact with Shawn, and it didn’t seem as if Shawn has made the effort to call you either. Despite this, you left his contact untouched and most importantly – undeleted. Every time you heard his songs on the radio or saw an interview of him on TV, you couldn’t help but miss him even more. He left a giant hole in your heart, and it didn’t look like it would be closing up any time soon.

You also stopped going to work after the breakup, so it was inevitable for your boss to fire you. You haven’t found a new job since, which brought you to the last resort of posting flyers around your apartment complex asking for a roommate to help share rent with. A few days later, you had gotten a phone call from a guy named Cameron asking if you were still looking for a new roommate. According to Cameron, he needed an apartment so he could be closer to his filming site for his newest film. When he told you he got famous off of Vine, you almost cried all over again because it was so similar to Shawn’s story. Luckily for him, he had been the first person to call and ask, which is how you and Cameron have been living in the same apartment for the past three weeks. 

Although the short time you two have known each other for, you and Cameron had quickly gotten to know each other. His presence actually forced you to get out of your bed and make yourself look at least half decent. 

Cameron turned out to be one of sweetest roommates you’ve ever had –— he always went out to get you your favorite ice creams and sweets when you were having a bad day, and he never questioned your terrible heartaches. 

Having someone constantly around you partially filled the void that Shawn created when he left you crying on your apartment floor just three months ago. Eventually, it became pretty easy to open up to Cameron about your cringe worthy exchange with Shawn, especially since he was always down to comfort you in your worst times. He didn’t try to rush you when it came to getting over Shawn, because quite frankly, a small part of you still wanted to wait for him.

On this particular Friday, while you and Cameron were on the couch for another movie night, your urge to text Shawn about how his tour was going was only increasing. You two might not be together anymore, but you promised him and yourself that you would support him and his dream nonetheless. You even bought yourself the best tickets money could buy for when Shawn would come to your city to perform.

“Cameron, would it be weird if I texted Shawn?” you questioned. Your phone was in your hand and you kept checking your notifications to see if you had gotten any new messages.

Cameron paused a little at your sudden question. “No, I don’t think it would be. Why?”

You mentally high-fived yourself as you thought up a verbal explanation. “I don’t know, I guess I kinda, maybe really miss him. Not only as boyfriend but also as just someone to talk to, y’know? We haven’t really talked since the whole breakup thing, but I just wanna let him know that I’m still there for him.” You started to ramble. When it came to Shawn, you could talk about him all day. Even though he broke you, Shawn still had a big chunk of your heart.

He nodded in understanding. “I don’t see why not. Text him right now,” Cameron suggested.

You were overwhelmed by how quickly this thought might become an action, so you leaned on Cameron to help you craft the perfect text to send to Shawn. You ended up with ‘Hey Shawn, I know it’s been a while but just wanted to see how your tour is going. So proud of you, -Y/N’ You were now glancing between your phone screen and Cameron to get one last hint of approval before clicking the send button. No backsies after this. You were probably blowing this way out of proportion, but you didn’t want to ruin this chance after going months without talking to Shawn.

“You know what Cameron,” you tried to reason with him, “Maybe this c-can wait for another day? or maybe a few months?” You tried to stall and started convincing yourself that maybe this text wouldn’t be the way to go.

“You know what?” Cameron said. You looked at him confused until your thoughts were abruptly cut off when he lunged for your phone. You almost screamed at him until you realized what he just did. Not only did he send the text, but he somehow called Shawn in the process of that.

By the time you wrestled the phone out of his grip, the phone was luckily only on its second ring. Unfortunately for you, your phone would not respond to any of your efforts to end the call. You started bickering with Cameron on why he shouldn’t of had taken your phone in the first place as you think of what to do next.

In the middle of your little argument, an oh so familiar voice silences both of you guys. “Hello? Y/N are you there?” Oh my goodness. “Y/N?” You haven’t heard his voice in so long that you don’t know if you want to faint or throw up.

You quickly mute the phone to give Cameron the ‘what do I do’ face. He looked at you as if you asked the dumbest question as he motioned for you to just un-mute the call and talk to Shawn like any other normal human.

“Uhh, s-sorry about that, S-Shawn. It was a misdial but while we’re here, how’s the tour going?” You fidgeted in your seat waiting for a reply from the other side of the line.

“Oh! It’s actually been so great. Every city just gets better and better and the fans are just so amazing,” Shawn started to ramble, but you couldn’t help but just get lost in his perfect voice. “I’m working on a new single and I’m so excited. This tour has definitely been the best one yet.” Shawn mentioned. He continued to talk for the next few minutes, but you felt every emotion but happiness.

Instead, it felt as if Shawn just ripped out the stitches from a healing wound. He seemed so happy without you. If only you could say the same about him. You covered your mouth and took a deep breath trying to regather yourself. “I’m so happy for you Shawn! Look, I have to go, but we need to keep in touch,” you suggested. You were somewhat disappointed in yourself for rushing and trying to end the call so soon, but the arising headache told you to hang up ASAP 

“Of course, Y/N” your heart leaped when he said your name. You missed hearing him say it. “Okay, bye I lov- I-I mean, sorry…bad habit, goodbye Y/N.” Shawn hung up before you could even say your own farewells. What was that all about? Your mind is rushing with all these new thoughts. He still loves you? You heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest.

You looked over to Cameron to ask him what he thought about the matter but he seemed just as shocked as you. “Shall we start the movie?” He suggested, probably trying to change the subject. You nodded as he clicked start to Pitch Perfect.

For the rest of the night, the two of you guys went through nearly four other movies before knocking out.

Weeks turned into months, and everything seemed to have gotten slightly better. Ironically, the accidental phone call between you and Shawn ended up working in your favor since somewhere along the line, the two of you started texting and talking on a daily basis again. Being able to talk to him this often again made you realize how much you still missed and loved him, and you even eventually told him how you felt. To your surprise, he returned the same thoughts and feelings and the two of you agreed to wait for each other until Shawn came back from tour, which would be in about six months. It would be a long half year, but you knew that you and Shawn would be able to get through it.

The two of you even made a schedule to start facetiming each other, and you’ve never been happier. You felt like everything was coming together. It’s crazy how one person can make you feel so many emotions, but you’re glad Shawn is the person that you’re going on all these roller coasters with. 

Shawn was like a drug and you were his addict. Even when the days that he hadn’t texted or called you back got to double digits, it was like you were still high off of the happiness that Shawn had created. Sadly, all things must come to an end, and unfortunately for you, your high ended six months early.

It wasn’t a pretty scene when Cameron came into your shared apartment with the newest tabloids and magazines. In fact, it was quite the opposite. It was like the break-up all over again but elevated by 100 levels. On the cover of each magazine was a picture of Shawn, the same very Shawn who said he’d wait for you. You almost didn’t believe your eyes when you saw Shawn holding hands and looking very cozy with this girl you’ve never seen in your life. Each cover was titled along the lines of Shawn having a new girlfriend. Just great.

It didn’t help either when all you saw on the internet were articles about Shawn’s new apparent girlfriend, and it certainly didn’t help when you were constantly having your twitter blown up by confused fans who had known about your previous relationship with Shawn.

You felt just as equally confused as Shawn’s fans, but most of all used and betrayed. Was it not obvious enough to Shawn that all those nights that you would stay up until 3am just to have a quick five minute phone call was all for him? All of the effort you put into trying to stitch up a broken relationship seemed to go all into the trash once you saw those tabloids.

Was this why he hasn’t been texting you back? Had he been too engrossed in another girl to even simply reply to your good-morning and goodnight texts? Tears streamed down your face as Cameron rushed to your side.

“I’ll fight him when he comes back if that makes anything better, Y/N. Trust me, he’ll regret letting go of a girl as beautiful and caring as you. Please don’t cry babe, he’s not worth your precious tears,” Cameron said while trying to hush and comfort you.

While Cameron hugged you, you reached over to get your phone. You opened up the messages app and clicked on Shawn’s contact. ‘I thought you really cared, but looks like you already found another girl.’ Perfect. You promptly clicked send without thinking twice. 

You were proud of your text until minutes, hours, then days passed without a response from Shawn. The realization finally hit that Shawn would probably never text back. The text totally backfired, because now it only showed how much Shawn really cared. You were done. 

one year since the breakup

Although Cameron wasn’t necessarily the best person at consoling, he definitely tried his best. He’d stay up late with you when you had trouble sleeping and was always there to have deep conversations with you. He had no idea how much you needed and appreciated having another shoulder to cry on, so when you told him how your thoughts about Shawn were becoming less and less occurrent, Cameron figured that he was doing something right.

The first few months were slow, but you eventually got through the rest of the six months happily and care free. You were doing so well, that you weren’t even tempted to open up the thousands of texts Shawn has sent you in the last six months. You even pushed yourself to refund your tickets to see Shawn after the whole magazine incident, so it completely slipped from your mind that Shawn’s tour had ended a week ago.

Oh, how fast a year has passed. It felt like just yesterday when Shawn was telling you that he was leaving for his world tour. You felt like a newly improved and matured person since then, and you couldn’t have had asked for anymore.

You promised Shawn that you would wait for him, but sometimes a promise has to be broken when the other person breaks a promise of their own. 

 You called Cameron to ask him when he was coming home from work. “I’ll be there in five minutes, love,” he replied.  Your heart always swooned when he would call you by those pet names, and this conversation was no different.

 As you lay on your living room couch, you rehearse your lines. Tonight was going to be the night where you would confess your feelings to Cameron. It’s been a long ride, and you almost want to slap yourself for how long it took for you to see how great of a guy Cameron was. There was no way that you wouldn’t eventually fall for his charm.

As you’re thinking of all of the ways tonight could end, Cameron opens the door to your flat. “Y/N!! What’s up?” He calls as he finds you on the couch.

“Nothing much,” you reply. It’s either now or never, Y/N. You take a deep breath before calling Cameron over to sit in front of you. “Cameron, can I tell you something?” you shyly ask.

Cameron rushes over to you. “What’s wrong, Y/N? Of course you can tell me anything, baby.” You giggle about how he thinks there is something wrong. You love how he’s always open to your problems.

You take a deep breath. “You promise me you won’t hate me if I tell you this?” 

Cameron nods as if the thought of hating you was impossible. Either way, he nods.

“Okay, I’m just going to say it,” you start, “I thin- well, I know, but I like you, Cameron. I actually like you a lot.” It feels as if a ginormous weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You wince as you wait for Cameron to reply.

You look up at him, as he still hasn’t replied. The silence is burning into you, and you open your mouth to apologize to Cameron for confessing your feelings until you feel a pair of lips latch onto yours.

It’s feels extremely weird, you’re not gonna lie. You haven’t kissed anyone in a year, but you kiss back anyways. Cameron’s lips are like none other’s. The kiss is the perfect mixture of intimacy and thirst, and you can’t get enough of it. Cameron pulls back a little and you pout in disappointment until he says, “I like you too, Y/N.” He puts his lips back on yours as you smile into the kiss. You’re on cloud nine while you and Cameron share one of the most intimate and passionate kisses you have ever had.

Neither of you were paying attention to anything but each other, and the sound of knocking on your door and the knob turning was no exception because when you finally pulled away from the kiss to see Shawn holding a bouquet of roses with a fading smile, your stomach drops. You’re devastated when you see the Canadian’s hurt face, but you’re frozen in your seat.

You’re speechless at first, but luckily Shawn instantly had something to say. “Cameron?” Shawn yells with a clenched jaw and red face like you’ve never seen before. Wait. How does Shawn know Cameron?

 “U-Uh, hi Shawn,” Cameron hesitantly drifts his gaze up to the boy. 

How do they know each other? You think up all of the possibilities until your mind finally clicks. Cameron and Shawn had both been apart of Magcon and toured together. Although you and Shawn weren’t dating back then, you knew you recognized Cameron’s face from somewhere. You scold at yourself for being so ignorant and oblivious. How Cameron said he became famous off of Vine, how he always knew what to say when you needed advice on Shawn — how could you not realize sooner? Why did Cameron never tell you? You back away from Cameron as if he’s a total stranger.

You get up from the couch to explain to Shawn what he just saw but you both knew there was no way you could’ve explained what he just walked in on. Shawn is the first to break the silence as he throws the bundle of red roses on the doormat. You try to chase after him, but his long legs had already gotten him far from your apartment.

Standing at your door thinking of your next move, your first instinct is to pick up the beautiful flowers. A note falls out of it, and you quickly scramble to get it opened. ‘I know it’s been a long ride, but thank you for being there for me. Most of all, thank you for letting our rose grow. I love you. -Shawn.’ What you read brought you to tears, practically making you forget that Cameron was still in the room. At this point, you didn’t care that Cameron was seeing you at your worst. He was probably used to it by now anyways. You yell at Cameron to leave at once as you rethink the events of your day.

You felt like you were being brought back to the day when Shawn first left you. It’s almost funny how this has happened twice now. Shawn was far gone, and you were left on the ground of your home to cry. You’re all alone once again, but this time, you did it to yourself.

hey guys! if you already haven’t heard this from me, i’d just to thank each and every one of you for the overwhelming support on Don’t Be a Fool and this blog! 

a part two was heavily requested, so i hope you guys like this. this definitely is a little more scattered compared to the first part, but that’s why i plan to hopefully have more parts to this story so you guys aren’t left with a cliff hanger. if you’d like a PART THREE, let me know by messaging me here!

as always, feedback and suggestions are always appreciated and welcomed

p.s. it’d be really great if you could like and reblog this :))

[irphanfic]

Moonshot - Chapter 6

Hey! I’m back with a new chapter! Okay, so I might have been inspired by their Singapore trip for this chapter. It's a bit different since it's written only from Dan's POV. I tried to fit them both in this chapter, but it didn't seem right for this, so I hope you enjoy it anyway! 

Anyways, any type of feedback/comment is welcome!

summary: Phil had a feeling that this Friday was going to be different.

That didn’t mean he was ready to meet his favourite baseball player, Daniel Howell, while he was cleaning the windows of a building.

or the au in which Phil is a shy window cleaner and Dan is a famous baseball player. This is their story.

words: 4.2k

no trigger warnings

Read on ao3 - (x)

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5

Chapter 6 - Date? 

One moment, he and Phil were texting like crazy and the other the blue eyed suddenly stopped, not giving a particular reason why. Dan guessed he got distracted and forgot that they were even talking, it had happened a few times before. Phil could get distracted by a fly on the wall to be honest.

Dan shrugged and started ironing a few t-shirts that had been on the dryer for two days already, keeping his phone close in his pants in case Phil texted back as he danced around to some indie rock songs.

Meeting Phil in person had been a very good decision in they friendship, at least Dan had the closure that Phil wanted to meet him, not caring about his fame or image, just wanting to be a close friend for him, who would understand and care for him. That hug Phil greeted him with was one of the first hugs Dan had gotten in a while, making him not want to leave those warm arms ever, have Phil as close as he could.

That might have been one of the nicest experiences he had. Getting to know Phil was another new level for him, he hadn't had the opportunity to know someone that well before. Dan was fascinated by him. How Phil told him about his uni years while studying his English degree and was trying to be an author, how he liked to spend his free time on the internet but also hanging out with his brother, how enthusiastic he was about his new houseplant... And more facts that he and Dan had already talked about in those first introductory messages, but this time in more detail, getting to know the other person better with no windows between them, admiring their face expression while they talked about it.

Dan still recalls saying goodbye at the café and how while walking back to his flat realized that it didn't feel like a normal meet up, it felt more like a date. The brown eyed sighed. Just because Phil had agreed meeting him didn't mean he would also agree on going on a date...

Also, yes, Dan and Phil had flirted a few times, and that day at the café even more. The soft touches of their hands every now and then and how Phil would blush and shush Dan each time the player would compliment him were signs that maybe asking Phil on a date wouldn't be such a bad idea, but was it too early to do so?

'Maybe I could do it after we already met a few more times...' the idea lingered in Dan's head.

A buzz from his phone startled him, rapidly reaching for it in the pockets of his trousers and checking if it was Phil texting him back.

Dan had to physically backtrack after reading the new message. 'Wanna go on a date with me?'

Was Phil seriously asking him on a date!? Was he for real!? Dan beamed at the text. Something no one ever knew about him was that he had never been asked on a date before. Yeah, Dan Howell, famous baseball player had never been asked on a date.

In the few fake relationships he had had, they were all set-up dates, where he and his partner just had to act out in a dinner, or get spotted somewhere holding hands or sharing few kisses, nothing too complicated.

Since he became a famous baseball player he had never had a serious and real relationship, the last one was in high school, and even then he was the one to carry all the relationship's weight over his shoulders. His girlfriend at the time hadn't cared much about Dan to be honest, she was glad he was there for her, but she was never there for Dan...

Dan re-read the text a few times to check it was real. Phil wanted to take him on a date and Dan didn't even know where, but he was already excited.

'I would love to, Phil.'  Dan sent, quickly wanting to add another sentence but not managing to even touch the keyboard anymore since a call from Phil was coming through.

''Hi,'' Dan answered timidly, the smile noticeable on his face as he felt his cheeks warming up.

''Hi Dan, I... I...'' He heard Phil's nervous voice at the other side but Dan didn't say anything, he waited till Phil was ready to fully complete his sentence, ''I'm sorry for the sudden message, I... My brother Martyn picked up my phone and texted you, sorry, really. But I...''

Dan's smile faded at the same time his heart dropped to his feet. So it had been Phil's brother's thing, it wasn't Phil himself who had sent the message. Probably Phil didn't want to take Dan on a date, who was he kidding?

''So, you don't want to take me on a date?'' Dan quietly asked, cutting off Phil's rambling, his voice breaking at the end. Stupid boy. Oh God, he felt the tears starting to create on his eyes, trying to sniffling quietly so Phil wouldn't notice he was that upset over all this. A lonely tear made his way down his cheek and Dan didn't even care to clean it away.

''Yes, of course!'' Phil exclaimed, leaving Dan to frown at the words. ''Please, let me explain. Don't want you to be upset'' He guessed he hadn't been so subtle at hiding his tears...

''Okay,'' was all Dan said before Phil started explaining.

''I guess I'm bad at explaining things correctly and didn't make the right choice of words. I was saying that my brother was the one who sent that message, but I'm glad he did it for me, otherwise I don't think I wouldn have been brave enough to do so...'' Dan heard Phil's exasperated sigh but didn't say anything and let him continue, sensing there was more into it.

''I'm a really shy person and I'm not used at having people so close to me as you are, and Martyn knew I wanted to ask you on a date but I couldn't find the guts to do so myself so he managed to steal my phone and send that. At the moment I wanted to kill him, but then I realized that my shyness would never let me do something like this. And I... I'm trying not to let it get in the way of things but it's hard... If I'm totally honest, it also scared me a little. You are Dan Howell, for God's sake! I still cannot believe we are friends!''

Dan could hear Phil's shaky breath, sounding anxious, but before he could say anything the blue eyed continued, ''I hate that I made you upset and I might seem like a coward right now for not having texted that myself and I'm probably I am but I promise you I really want to take you on a date if you still want to, of course.''

Dan listened attentively to what the blue eyed was saying, his voice wavering in a few sentences. Oh Phil. Dan hadn't let Phil explain all the story and he misundestood what he had wanted to say on the first place. Also, it was true that Phil was a very shy person, it couldn't be that easy for him to send this kind of messages, and less when he was asking Dan Howell of all people. He was famous and fame could be an intimidating thing from the outside...

''You are not a coward, Phil. I understand now.'' Dan calmly answered, sniffling away the rest of his tears, calming down at the fact that Phil really had wanted to ask him on a date. He was not upset anymore, not after having heard all that Phil had explained.

''Please, don't cry, I hate knowing this upset you so much...''

''No, I'm not upset anymore! I'm fine, really, Phil. It's okay,'' Dan reassured him, knowing Phil felt bad.

''Anyways, I'm still sorry, Dan.'' Phil finished, not knowing what more to say.

Dan decided to give both of them a break and changed the subject, ''so, when and where are you taking me on our date?'' the smile coming back to his face.

''You still want to go?'' he could heard Phil's surprised tone. Dan just hummed, giving him enough confirmation and continued talking in a more happier voice, ''It was going to be a secret, but I can give you a few hints if you want.''

''But I wanna know all, Phil!'' Dan whined like a child but he didn't care, he was excited about this and no one could stop him.

He heard Phil's ''nuh-nuh'' from the other line, knowing he wouldn't get more details, ''Wednesday evening, dress casually. I will pick you up.''

''But wha...'' Dan couldn't say much more before he heard Phil's chirpy voice saying goodbye and hanging up. That bastard.

Dan really wanted to be annoyed at him, and even though he tried, he couldn't stay mad for long.

_______________

Just as Phil promised he rang Dan's doorbell on Wednesday evening. Dan took a deep breath and hand-ironed his short sleeved shirt for the hundreth time in the span of an hour before opening the door, only to be greeted by a casual dressed but attractive looking Phil with pink cheeks, standing there with a single white lily on his hands.

''Hi.'' they both said at the same time, followed by a giggle.

''This, for you.'' Phil handed Dan the flower, which he gently picked up. ''Take it as an apology for my confused phone call. I'm still sorry for that, really.''

''It's beautiful'' he managed to say, softly touching the petals as if he didn't believe it was real. ''thank you, Phil, but don't apologize, okay? All is good now. '' Dan said, looking into Phil's blue eyes and smiling widely, smile which the blue eyed mirrored. The date hadn't even started and it was already going great.

''I'll put it in water, just a minute, okay?'' Phil nodded and Dan quickly headed back inside.

'This is such a nice detail, no one has ever given me flowers before.' was all Dan could think about as he put the flower in a vase, picking up his keys on the way back to Phil, closing the front door and heading to the elevator.

''So, you are not telling me any more details of where are we going, no?'' Dan questioned him on their way down to the building entrance. They had texted many times before the day arrived, but Phil wasn't giving Dan more details about their date, and honestly, Dan stopped trying after a few attempts, letting other conversation topics in.

''Um... let's see... we have to drive for a bit, if that's okay with you, but I'm still not telling you where.'' Phil mysteriously said, not giving Dan a chance to protest as they reached the street, heading to where Phil's midnight blue coloured old car was parked.

Phil graciously opened the passenger's door for Dan, who let out a short giggle as he thanked him, climbing into the car, putting his seatbelt on as Phil made the same on the driver's seat quickly starting the car and swiftly starting their drive.

''You can put the radio on if you want to,'' Phil said, giving Dan the chance to put on whatever music he wanted.

Dan fiddled with the buttons for a few minutes when a nice and familiar alternative sounding song made it to their ears, ''Is this okay?''

Phil hummed the best he could, keeping all his concentration on driving, just turning the volume up a bit up while both of them started singing the song loudly, happily filling the car with their not-so-bad singing, the loud notes turning into laughs since none of them could reach them.

Through the journey, a few other songs blasted through the speakers along with the voices of two happy boys, sometimes trying to perform them in the best way they could, improvised duets that kept them entertained till they arrived to their final location.

They got out of the car and Dan looked at their surrondings, finally recognizing where they were. ''The aquarium?'' he questioned, looking at Phil who was standing to his left, admiring the structure of the building. Dan hadn't been to the aquarium since he was a kid and he suddenly found himself excited to slowly walk around all the dim-lighted hallways seeing all the fishies swim around he and Phil.

''You don't like it?'' Phil looked at him with wide worried eyes, ''I can take us to another place, really I hadn't thought about this scenario I was...'' Phil quickly rambled, his tone worried and nervous of having failed on his choice of first date.

''Phil, no, I really like it!'' Dan cut him off, gently touching Phil's wrist to focus his attention back on him. ''I haven't been to the aquarium since I was a kid and I was a bit surprised you brought me here, but it is a nice surprise. I'm pretty thrilled to be honest,'' he finished with a smile, letting Phil know it was okay, that he had definitely made the right choice.

Phil exhaled and Dan felt him relax under his touch, ''So, are you sure you want to go in?''

''Yes, I'm sure, but you must know I might ignore you the whole time and just look at the fishes.'' Dan joked, but not so sure about it being a joke. He might be right and spend hours just looking at them...

Phil chuckled, slowly lacing their fingers together as another blush appeared on his cheeks, a gesture that Dan found adorable. ''I don't mind that you ignore me as long as I get to stare at you smiling at the fishies the whole time.''

Now it was Dan's turn to blush, not expecting Phil to have said that in a million years but glad that, (as he had mentioned before), trying not to let his shyness get in the way of these things.

They stared at the other's eyes for a moment before walking to the entrance of the aquarium. Dan was really looking forward to see the fishies.

_______________

Once they reached the reception Phil sent Dan and apologetic smile before untangling their hands so Phil could pay for the tickets. Dan instantly missed the contact, Phil's warm hands fit perfectly with his like no one else's had before.

''Here, look, they made the tickets look like fishes, see? a clownfish!'' Phil excitedly said, handing Dan his ticket, which he grabbed, admiring the nice design.

''It's pretty cool,'' Dan commented, smiling a bit before saving his ticket in the back pocket of his jeans, watching Phil do the same.

They started walking to the first hallway, but this time no one made an attempt to grab teh others hand. Dan wanted Phil's back so as they walked he brushed the back of his hand with Phil's, trying to get his attention. Phil's hand brushed his so lightly it seemed like a feather, but didn't make any attempt to grab it.

Dan tried again and the same happened... Maybe Phil didn't want to walk holding hands anymore? 'Well, better know now.' Dan thought before making a move and lacing their fingers together again, waiting for Phil's reaction, which was strange because he stopped walking.

''What? What's wrong?'' Dan asked, not understanding Phil's behaviour, who only looked down to their feet.

''Are you sure you want to walk around holding hands with me?'' Phil muttered, looking back into Dan's eyes, which instantly frowned at what his date was saying.

''Why wouldn't I be okay with that?'' Dan asked, not understanding anything.

''I don't know, maybe we get spotted and photographed... You are pretty famous Dan'' Phil said, shrugging.

Dan finally understood. He hadn't checked if Phil was okay with all the media thing. They wouldn't even get spotted but still, it was a point to consider and Dan was glad they where talking about it now to get it out of their way.

Their meet-up at the café had been private, with almost no people around and it wasn't even a date, but this? Holding hands in a public place like the aquarium? Maybe not so easy to handle.

''Phil,'' Dan said, taking a step so he could look into those blue eyes better, ''I would love to hold hands with you while we wander around the aquarium, but if you are not comfortable with all the media thing I will not force you into it. And, today the aquarium seems empty, I don't think we will get photographed, but if you are not sure we can just walk freely.''

Phil smiled shyly before answering, tightening his hand around Dan's a bit more, ''Thank you for considering, but I think we will have to see what happens. If we get spotted and get get featured somewhere, I will see how I can handle all of it.'' Phil looked back down to their joined hands and then up again into Dan's eyes, ''I didn't know if being spotted with me by your side would be good for your career, that's why I asked.''

Dan stared at him, a bit sad that Phil thought he wouldn't be the best for his fame. ''Phil Lester, listen to me,'' instantly catching Phil's attention, ''You, of all people, are the one that deserves to be by my side. You are not bad for my fame, you couldn't be bad for me. I don't care if I'm photographed with you holding hands, I want to be able to do that anytime anywhere.'' Dan's honesty could be heard in his speech. He wasn't joking, Phil was probably one of the few people that in such a short time had managed to get under Dan's skin. And for sure, in his heart.

The smile on Phil's face widened as so did his blush, nodding slightly ''Okay,''

Dan smiled back, ''So, now that we have established these necessary measures, can we start our date, Mr. Philip?''

The sound of Phil's laugh was like a nice song reaching his ears, ''Of course, Mr. Daniel. Let's go!'' Phil tugged an also laughing Dan along with him towards the start of the first hallway, running like children and dodging a few other visitors on their way; feeling happy and free.

_______________

As soon as they entered the first hallway Dan let out a surprised ''Oh'', not expecting to see such a marvelous scene in front of him. The dimmed lights were bright enough so ou could see all the details of the colourful and shiny fishes.

He couldn't remember that the aquarium looked from when he had visited it as a child, but seeing it now, such a mesmerizing scene in front of his eyes, he knew he needed to keep this in his memory forever.

Dan started walking slowly, admiring every sea creature he spotted swimming around. It was such a calm atmosphere just standing there, relaxing even. He really needed to come here more often.

Without noticing, he detached his hand from Phil's, too entranced by some yellow-tailed fish on one of the walls. He touched the glass with his hands, as if he wanted to reach and swim with them just for a minute.

A squealing noise from a child from the far side of the hallway startled Dan, turning his head rapidly to his right to see said child pressing his face against the glass, imitating the blowfish he was staring at. The scene made him chuckle. Kids were the most innocent creatures on Earth for sure.

''You okay?'' suddenly Phil's voice reached his ears, looking towards where the voice was coming from. Phil was standing behind him, leaning against the wall on the other side, smiling softly at him.

Oh. Right. They were on a date and Dan was completely ignoring him by staring at the fishes just like he had 'joked' before. Great move, Dan.

''Yeah, sorry... I...'' Dan apologized, walking closer to him and grabbing his hand again, tracing a few patterns on the back of his hand, ''I find this so calming I got distracted, sorry for ignoring you. But in my defense, I must say that I warned you before that this could happen!''

''It's okay,'' Phil said, lacing their fingers back together, the smile on his face not fading, ''Yeah, you advised me, that's true. I must also add that I got pretty distracted at staring at you so I think we are even.''

Dan swatted him in the arm, trying to hide his laugh, ''Shut up! C'mon, I see the sharks hallway is next.''

''Oh, sharks Nice! Let's go!'' Phil cheerfully said, swinging their joined hands around as they walked towards their next location.

_______________

The shark hallway was a bit intimidating in Dan's opinion. Seeing all the sharks swim above your head probably thinking a 5 metre fish could fall on you anytime wasn't the best thing to think about, but it was as impressive as it sounded.

They made ther way through it, Dan listening attentively to every shark related fact Phil could tell him, sometimes chuckling at how much the blue eyed knew about the sea creatures.

Dan was so focused on what Phil was speaking about that he hadn't even noticed they had entered another space, this time circle shaped and almost pitch black if it wasn't for the rainbow coloured lights that were illuminating the different jellyfish's tanks.

''Wow'' they both said into the empty room at the same time. Walking further into the room they stared at the many diverse jellyfishes that were swimming around without a care in the world, their tentacles and transparent bodies being painted by various colours after a few seconds.

Dan got dragged along by Phil towards one of the tanks to see an pretty rare type of jellyfish, with long and frilly tentacles, it's body wavy and floaty.

''It's beautiful'' Dan heard Phl whisper, looking away from the fish to look at Phil's profile, only lit up by the changing colours coming from the bottom of the tanks, sparkling eyes and sharp cheekbones standing out, making the contrast between his such pale skin and shadows even more prominent.

''Yeah, it is,'' Dan found himself whispering, still staring at the beautiful man next to him, still so focused on Phil's face taht he hadn't even noticed his head turning around to look back at Dan, who noticed how his cheeks aquired the now familiar pink tone.

Dan's eyes fixed on Phil's, blinking a few times before his eyes darted down, just to look at Phil's lips. Phil's pink and inviting lips...

God, how much Dan wanted to kiss him. In this almost dark room, surrounded by colourful jellyfishes, just the both of them alone...

Dan almost shook the idea out of his head, but as he lifted his gaze and saw Phil's eyes just making the same path Dan's had made just seconds before, it was the only clue Dan needed.

Dan took a small step closer to Phil, crooking his head a bit as if asking him for permission to kiss him, a sign that the blue eyed understood perfectly by nooding, closing his eyes just at the same time Dan touched their lips together, getting a tingly sensation at the feeling, as they could feel the electricity from the jellyfishes running around their veins.

It was a short touch of lips that lasted a few seconds that left Dan wanting for more. He had missed kissing someone, and even though this had been one of the gentlest kisses he had ever received, he wanted more. He wanted to kiss Phil more.

As if he had read his mind, Phil pressed their foreheads together, as if asking for another kiss that Dan gladly granted him, this time moving their lips in sync as hands made they way to other places, Dan moving his towards Phil's head, guiding the much longer kiss as he felt Phil's on his hips, caressing it with patternless movements over his shirt.

Slowly, Dan decided to deepen it, biting Phil's bottom lip, instantly gaining access to his mouth and tongue, feeling Phil moan a bit at the intrusion, making Dan just want to kiss him even more so he could hear that noise again.

Once oxygen was necessary they detached their mouths, Dan instantly smiling at Phil's swollen and red lips that were turning into another smile.

After a while of just smiles and stares, Dan laced their fingers again, pulling Phil towards the next hallway, ''C'mon, as much as I enjoyed kissing you I want to finish seeing all the fishies.''

''Let's go then, I heard the turtle space it's pretty cool.'' Phil commented, both of them diving into a baby-turtle theme conversation as the continued walking around, enjoying the other's company as much as the other rooms and hallways left.

Dan often made sure that the clownfish shaped ticket was still in his back pocket. He wanted to remember this date forever.

Chapter 7

[amethystiridescence]

I am so happy.

My life has always been very relatively fortunate. I know there’s no comparison to all sides of a spectrum so its only with my limited perspective and subjective opinion that I can reflect on my circumstances. Its just for the sake of juxtaposition that I mention any of my subjectively negative life-affecting things. With some warning this is to be a very indulgent ramble as I just want to savour how impossibly incredibly wonderful life is right now.

For a start, I finally live somewhere where I can be relaxed and also call it home. After my parents divorced when I was 10 until I was 25, I lived with my mother. She has taken it upon herself to compensate in a very overbearing way for the lack of a father figure in mine and my brother’s lives. It’s left me paranoid, resentful, strained and absolutely living and breathing anxiety and I desperately needed to move out but money and a stop-start pattern in my career after Uni made it impossible. Through sudden circumstances I suddenly had somewhere I could move into and live in my best friend’s beautiful house. I am eternally grateful and forever in his debt for letting me live in such an amazing place. It’s such a roomy and bright place, and he let me turn it as homely as possible. I got to decorate the kitchen in pink and green and light pine, and I made the living room light and dark blue with tons of nerdy books and old school consoles. I have an old PS1 dance mat and Spyro.

My bedroom is unbelievably gorgeous, and my boyfriend who lives with me across the hallway with his own space built me a window seat which I’ve wanted ever since I read an illustrated copy of the Secret Garden when I was 5. I’ve covered my room in fairy lights, printed polaroids of my Instagram, and I sit on my window seat in the sunshine since it faces south and I read with scented candles. I can actually keep flowers in my bedroom now without them dying from lack of sunlight and I buy different colour carnations every few weeks. My boyfriend is going to put up bird feeders outside my window soon. He makes curries with coconut milk and sticky rice and I cook garlicky seafood noodle broths, and occasionally we all inhale one huge takeaway pizza each whilst watching Friends.

I also live in the most beautiful part of the UK. The sea is less than a mile from where I live to the south, and the moors are less than 10 miles to the north. Everything is wide, green and natural and beautiful on the moors and the wild ponies happily eat from your hands.

I went bodyboarding in the Cornish waves the other weekend and the water was so warm and so blue. I also went swimming in my city’s adorable local seaside lido pool in the hot sun the other week. Eddy bought us hot dogs and slushies.

I now have a huge group of fantastic friends and I’m still not sure how I’ve managed to become part of such a incredible group of people. Thanks to a string of aggressive and manipulative bullying in secondary school, my own socialising skills were shot to pieces and I didn’t make friends easily. When I first moved house I felt lonely and without friends and I was panicking about new people. So when I found the University Amateur Dramatics society by pure accident, I couldn’t believe my luck. For some crazy reason they actually seem to like me and want me to be part of their incredible family. They’re all so talented, passionate and affectionate, and I feel honoured to be able to call them my friends. They even encouraged me to act in plays, and my newfound sense of humour and ability to make people laugh still surprises me after several months.

A few of us went swimming and cliff diving together on the moors in a crystal clear running river in a heatwave a couple of weeks ago. I’m going to a wedding reception party with a few of them soon. They gave me a special creative contribution award on their Awards Night with the most amazing speech even though I’ve only been part of them for a few months. I haven’t felt this confident in myself in years and I owe them all so much for that.

As stated before, my career of choice is very stop-start. I went from no experience to a magazine cover, from waitressing to a stint on Game of Thrones prosthetics team to stacking shelves in Tesco for a couple of months. I seized a more stable less relevant job and held onto it hoping I’d manage to do creative things and unfortunately I ended up much unhappier in the job than I thought as I ended up only really doing computer work. The only solace I had was being able to raise a baby crow from a chick and have his company throughout one of the dullest work summers I’ve ever had.

I was stifled and felt stuck, especially since I kept trying to win this 6 month scholarship at a huge makeup school in Hollywood, and I came so close to winning and kept on just missing the mark. When I came the closet I’ve ever been and lost for a third time this year after getting so hopeful in the light of my work going incredibly viral, I was so deflated and planned to leave the job for the first irrelevant thing I could find just to break the unhappy directionless monotony. And then it all happened. I got contacted by a huge entertainment company requesting me specifically to come work for them as a costume designer and makeup artists for international performances, based half hour away from where I live. I’ve been there 2 weeks and I’ve been feverishly creating everyday with and the days just fly by. I’m even going with my team to Texas next month to do the makeup for the event that I’m creating the costumes for. I might even go places like Kuwait or Dubai as well. I can hardly believe my luck. And as if that wasn’t incredible enough, I’ve had a private sponsor contact me about the failed scholarship attempts and kindly offer to sponsor me for a month’s worth of classes at the school next year. So I’m going to work extra hard and pay for an extra month of classes when I fly to Los Angeles in the spring next year. I can’t believe I’ve actually been granted so much generosity and kindness and that I’m now a professional costumer and that I’m going to Hollywood in less than a year.

I start my VISA application this week.

And honestly, I still look back on the work I’ve achieved off my own back this year and I can truly say I’m so proud of what I’ve made. Cosplay is so important to me and I’m so blessed that I can take it and turn it into a career.

We still go Comic Cons at least once or twice a year and I love every second of them.

The boys got really keenly into cosplay this year and made cosplays they adored wearing so much that they went from wearing them for just the one day to all three days of the Con. I’m so proud of them and I love how much they enjoyed themselves.

I got specially invited to a huge London Comic Con at the end of this month as a cosplay guest and I’m staggered by how generous they’re being with covering all my expenses including a plus one. I feel weirdly famous and humbled by the kindness. I can’t believe I’ll be a guest alongside so many real celebrities such as Christopher Lloyd, Alyson Hannagan, Benedict Cumberbatch and my idol Doug Jones.

I am giddily madly and blissfully in love and I feel so warm and strong and sure of it when I remember how unhappy I used to be. It is a huge shame that my previous and longest relationship ended as needlessly bitter as it did. It really didn’t have to happen that way. I wish I had been mature and less scared of being alone and less inclined to retreat into the devil that I knew for all those years. I had no idea how badly matched we were after growing up differently and growing naturally apart. We just didn’t work together and it was making me so unhappy, frustrated at myself for thinking it must have been something wrong with me when in actual truth I just needed different things from a relationship. Consequently I only realised how badly unhappy I was only after I left it.

But Eddy is everything I’ve been needing and more. He is so patient with my whacky temperament, stubbornness and silly quirks. He is the calming, affectionate, assuring bedrock of my life, and my own self-image is so much better for his constant gentle reminders that I am warmly and passionately loved and always seen and even more importantly I can be totally myself without being resented. He encourages me to keep doing everything that I love doing, and he never misses a trick when I’m feeling upset or distracted. He always looks so happy to see me, and his smiles are infallibly genuine and light up the room. He is so ridiculously intelligent and yet he never ever uses it to make anyone feel inferior or show it off. He is so unbelievably unfazed by how anyone sees him and nothing ever embarrasses him, I’ve never seen someone so chilled in their own image such as him. It doesn’t matter how upset or stressed I am, he can instantly calm me down and break past my aggressive stubbornness or soothe my shame.

I love him for the way he can ballroom dance. I love him for the way he loves to cook and still finds time in between stirring saucepans to wrap his arms around me and dip me towards the floor even if its just to get an indignant squeak out of me. I love him for the way he animatedly talks about facts, history, art and gaming logistics with ease and humour as if its not things to be recited, its things to be actively and keenly discussed. I love him for the way he is shameless about what he loves, whether its a beautiful piece of art or a really bad internet joke.

I have a cupboard specially for all my teas. I have over fifteen types and three types of hot chocolate. I serve the hot chocolates with mini marshmallows. I keep a list on my phone of all the silly stuff Eddy has said that’s made me laugh. I’ll publish it one day.


I got to decorate the house with autumnal decorations last autumn after mum wouldn’t let me do it at hers. I put orange maple leaves everywhere and real pumpkins displayed with dried leaves. I regularly lit cinnamon and apple scented candles. We had a pumpkin party with toffee apples and toasted marshmallows on a bonfire in the garden. I carved the silhouette of a crow into a pumpkin.

One of my friends from the society lent me a book that made me cry. I’ve bought my own copy. She makes amazing cakes and looks like an elf queen. I’m going to her birthday BBQ tomorrow.

My cosplay got featured in a magazine again.

I got a new duvet cover with the Little Mermaid on it, and a phone power bank shaped like a unicorn. I can love pink, girly pastel things again without feeling embarrassed. I love having pink hair.

We had an incredible Christmas tree last year. I made and ate so many Devils On Horseback and drank a lot of mead.

Eddy took me ice skating for my birthday. We went to see his favourite band in concert at the same place a month later. That following evening he massaged my achy post-heels legs. We listen to the same band when we cook together. He loves to sing along to any music.

It snowed before my birthday again. We went up to the moors early in the morning and it was absolutely breathtaking. We rolled around in the snow and I petted the snow-dusted Dartmoor ponies.

I had a phonemail with my best friend of 20 years earlier today. She’s coming to stay with us for a week soon. Her voice hasn’t changed since we were 13. She still smells like she did when we were 6. We went to the Tower of London as invited by the Ravenmaster himself and met one of the ravens. We also went to see a Steven Spielberg tribute Philharmonic Orchestra concert later that day. She drew me whilst sat on the tube.

I caught the cherry blossoms this year on really warm days. Eddy shook the tree over me so I got coated in pink petals. I got iced matcha from Starbucks later that day.

I acted in a play that started with everybody laughing then finished crying. I loved every second of it and I loved my cast and I loved the play itself. I love acting now.

I think Eddy’s family likes me. They took me to Disneyland the other week for Eddy’s sister’s hen party. Eddy’s mum fixed my skirt for the wedding and she also fixed my dress for the wedding of Eddy’s other sister last year. Both his parents cried and hugged me when I told them about Hollywood.

I bought a scrapbook with unicorns on it. I’m going to print of as many polaroids as possible to stick in it with glitter glue. I’ve been covering everything in rainbow, Pokemon and dinosaur stickers.

I never want to forget feeling this happy.

[waldowski89-blog]

Blog 220317 (late)

Hello again,

I’ll be normal this time. So the last blog was written after a few drinks (obviously). Let me explain: I’ve been working on a story and yesterday I decided to just jump into it. After these two weeks are up I will post the first proper part. Hold me accountable for that!

So, what can I say? It’s actually been very helpful doing this. I know that in saying that I’m probably going to get some shit but (in the voice of Arin Hansen impersonating Sonic) “whatever, fuck it!”

Don’t worry also. I’m not losing it. What I posted yesterday was a bit crazy and didn’t make much sense but hopefully as the story unfolds it will.

I’ve met quite a few good people around the internet. I may thank them at some point on here. Some people I’ve met in real life have helped me too and I won’t forget them… even if they forget me.

This may go on Tumblr after midnight though. I got a bit behind with things.

Anyway, all that stuff is boring right? So ummmmmm I really don’t have anything interesting to say.

I said I failed at the end of yesterday’s blog because I didn’t do 1,000 words however I felt it was finished at that point. Anything else would have felt tacked on.

Wow, this is only 227 words. Why am I doing this? It was a challenge. I want to make people laugh or smile or be intrigued. Make people think. Maybe I should train as a teacher. Actually that would probably be a bad idea. Can you imagine this drunken mess in a classroom. Wow, I would want to teach English and that’s a bit of a stereotype. Educating Rita had a drinking English teacher in it. Bully the video game had one too.

So, Good Mythical Morning have been going through some changes haven’t they? They stopped selling their mugs. They’ve changed their third (?) fourth (?) channel. I think they are putting Ear Biscuits on it and other fun things. Definitely worth a look.

From drinking to GMM quite a tangent. So, it’s twelve O’clock here in Britain and I’ve kinda failed my challenge. Well, I’ll keep going with this and see if I can get to one thousand… see I said one thousand to pad it out. (God, this is like those three minute videos on YouTube that have a card that lasts seven minutes to make it to ten. Well, at least I don’t get paid for this. Wink wink)

I shouldn’t subject people to this really. Maybe I should read this out at a stand up comedy show and see what the crowd do… maybe not. I wonder if this is the definition of a joke going too far? In that I’m the joke and I just keep rambling? Maybe we’ll get somewhere eventually. Somewhere meaningful.

I’m listening to Vitalic - Rave Age “La Mort Sur Le Dancefloor” I like that track and “Fade Away”. That last sentence was eighteen words and we’ve just gone over five hundred. Are you still with me, or have you killed yourself. That became a big thing on the internet, didn’t it? (Yes it did Andrew, jeez)

Why do I constantly argue with myself?

Never mind most of this is bullshit. So, Waldowski was a character… what was his story again? He was a more grumpy, shouty version of myself. He definitely was much more of a drinker than I am. Wait, this is getting confusing. I think Colossal is Crazy said that to KeemStar once. That he switches between KeemStar and Daniel Keem sometimes. I don’t really follow the drama stuff anymore though. It was interesting for a few months but I got bored of it. I might delve into it again at one point.

That’s what I was going to say… or rather write. All that self pittying about me above is apparently the kind of thing posted on Tumblr. I mean what else do people use websites for other than complaining about something. Sports, politics, religion etc… Some people do use it positively though, like talking about travel or posting positive quotes or interests and hobbies. Also, I’ve got about four hours left if I was trying to post this on time in America… that’s positive, right? Kind of?

What is it about posting this stuff to complete strangers is so much better than letting people you know in real life read? I dunno… we’re all still people after all. Unless you find one of those bots… then it’s not a people… it’s a bot. Microsoft created an AI too didn’t they? It was deactivated after a few weeks (I think) because the internet ruined it with memes. Why is that so funny? They created something and thought it was going to be positive then it started spewing out Harambe stuff and racist stuff and other stuff. The internet destroyed it. It’s like when someone sees a budding flower and they just jump all over it, crushing it into the ground and…

Oh, sorry what was I saying… I passed out. Crikey or blimey… I can’t post this can I? Wait that’s probably a meme for me.

Meme’s: “I can’t post that can I?” “Crikey, oh sorry, I meant blimey.” “Crikey.” “Blimey.” “I’m British.” “So… shit!” “I just died.” “TAKE FIVE HUNDRED!” “It’s all right, I’ll do it this time… shit.” “Wow these people are angry.” “Um.”

(can I really just make up memes for the rest of the one thousand words?)

“No.” *coughs*

Right well, it’s probably time to wrap up. I’m going to keep on keeping on with this and like I said hopefully we’ll get somewhere interesting. Unless I just alienate the audience. Side Note: That is a technique used in some off off broadway shows I think. I remember learning about it. Samuel Beckett uses that method. It’s all existential ramblings. (Did you just try and compare yourself to Samuel Beckett?) No, I just mean that’s a thing… nevermind.

My name’s Waldowski. Thank you to every single one of you who read this and I may see you tomorrow!

CUT!

“I bubbed him good.”

“BUUUUUUUUUUB!” (I’m not even gonna read this back. It’s going straight up)