#harassing artists is not going to make them suddenly want to create art for you?? what a fucking circus

[covenofthearticulate]

Genuine question: do some of you genuinely feel entitled to an artist's art, or do you really think bullying them is going to make them want to create more art for a fandom that treats them like shit???

[crazysodomite]

i see a ton of issues with 'creativity' in art online spaces on social media... not just the 'adoptables' community or whatever but it's REALLY bad in there. and i think i know why... man it's hard to structure my thoughts...

'originality' is actually extremely narrow in art spaces specifically on social media. people get extremely fixated on having an 'original art style' but at the same time all art is being funneled into 1 specific way of making it. and when someone DOES go outside of the norm it becomes their 'thing'. their 'brand'. read: what sells their art/gets them popular.

a few examples: so many posts on the internet complaining about hating drawing lineart, having to redo the line 100 times, etc.

lineart is immediately suggested for beginners and most art is based on lineart first, which makes some people hate art. and they end up thinking doing it any other way is 'wrong' or 'too difficult'. beginners feel like they must make their art like this. sketch > lineart > color fill > shading > detail. when in reality you really don't have to do any of this at all. your art can truly be anything and anything that you hate about creating art can just be removed from the process. am i making any sense? i think i went through this process too. i started out doing lineart and i fucking hated it. i couldn't initially realize that painting is the easiest and most fun way for me to do art. because most art advice on social media (how most people nowadays try to learn i think) is aimed at this specific way to do it.

we aren't giving advice on how to explore art and creativity but only how to make your art most appealing...

same thing with smaller stuff like not being able to do the second eye in art. you don't even HAVE to make your art symmetrical. you can obviously desire that result but i feel like some people aren't even considering the possibility. and this isn't just because people are just lacking in creativity. if your art is 'too weird' and 'not pretty' 'outside of the norm' you will get bullied and made fun of viciously. your art can only venture outside the norm if it's still appealing. and most people aren't up to taking that risk because a few horrible words about a persons art can end their desire to do it completely!!! am i making any sense. when you venture and see art outside of what's popular on social media it's like your eyes are wide open...

and then, when someone does venture out of the norm in a creative and appealing way, it suddenly becomes 'their brand' and if someone creates something remotely similar to it, it's considered 'plagiarism' and drama and harassment follows. it's MY THING to draw this in that way. you can't get inspired by it. it's MY BRAND.

so we come to the conclusion of people trying to claim ideas as their own only and try to make profit out of it. and attack anyone who threatens 'their thing'. the endless battles over adoptable markings and palettes. the 'style theft'.

the 'my artstyle is so inconsistent'. it's okay to want to feel like your art is truly your own but the reality often is that. 'i need a concrete style so people expect this one specific thing from me and will pay for it' which obviously there's no blame in people trying to make money but the way it affects artists is just horrible.

the 'artist branding' thing is really fucking bad in adoptable spaces. if you're an 'in demand' artist a lot of attention is paid to your art not because people really enjoy it but because it has trade value. and even really gorgeous designs from people are looked over and devalued because they're not a high trade value artist...

im tired of trying to make my art appealing and popular instead of what i like to do. and im also tired of people not being able to appreciate art outside of it's most appealing form and calling ANYTHING outside what appeals to them bad or boring or whatever the fuck. i can really say more but i have trouble structuring my thoughts...

Mommy needs cigarettes 🚬 i just ranted on facebook.

[ja-gul-writes]

This is the cover for the first book in my series. The little guy is actually just a normal guy, and his name is Leon. He's from our world, and is a tired, overworked and underpaid janitor who's boss was being a total jerk (and should have totally been sued for sexual harassment). Leon's secret kink has always been size difference, and he just wanted to take a giant dick, ya know? Totally reasonable!

Well, then he suddenly gets transported to another world (yes this is an isekai) right in front of a horny, lonely giant named Zayan who thinks humans are just the cutest fucking things on the planet, who also thinks that this human in specific is offering himself to the giant.

I dunno why but Tumblr has made the image look a little blurry to me.

Anyways, making this cover was really hard because I was using vector graphics and it DID NOT scale properly and I had to export every single colour and shadow layer as a separate image so that I could do colour adjusting in a different program. It's the same method for the other covers in this series, but once this series is done I am totally going to find a different art style.

... Does anyone want to hear me rant about book covers? No? Okay, I'll go on then.

Did you know that if you were to use stock photos to make covers, depending on where you get it from you need special permission to use a person's face on the cover of a book that has queer content? Yeah, that's stupid, because the same rules do not apply to straight content. Got a straight couple on your book, no big deal. Got a gay couple, well make sure you have special permission. Oh and sometimes you can't even put anyone's face on the cover of a book at all. And you probably have to pay the licensing fees to get that stock photo. And there's a chance someone else has used it on their book cover too.

It's in some ways a lot easier to have a drawn cover. Because even if you visually used a reference image for a character's pose or proportions, reference images do not need to be licensed. And if you've drawn it all yourself, then you own the art and can do whatever you want with it, whereas if you've paid an artist you might be limited to what you can do with it.

The one thing to look out for too is fonts. If you download fonts from a website, make sure to filter by fonts that are 100% free for full commercial use, meaning you can use the font on the cover of a book you are profiting from and don't need to pay anyone for it. Because some fonts are free ONLY to use for things that won't make you money, or if you do make money you owe the font-maker royalties. And when you're writing books and making very little money, paying anyone a royalty from your earnings could be a deal-breaker. Avoid the pitfalls of this by only ever downloading 100% free fonts. Doesn't matter how nice the licensed fonts are, just don't download them, that way you don't have to remember which ones you have are free and which ones are licensed.

BTW, here's the programs I used to make cover art, write book, and format it. The programs are free and open-sourced.

Inkscape for vector art: https://inkscape.org/

GIMP for colours (it's a photoshop type software): https://www.gimp.org/

LibreOffice for writing (and they also have spreadsheets): https://www.libreoffice.org/

And for formatting, because I publish on amazon I used amazon's Kindle Create which helped format the book.

[pastxlscorp]

Bully! Mitsuya Fanfic (pt.1)

Chapter I: Inception

✿ Word Count: 2.1k

✿ Pairing: Takashi Mitsuya x reader

✿ Topics covered: (Eventual) Enemies to lovers trope, Y/N POV, tsundere-Mitsuya, bully! Mitsuya, fem. reader, minor manga spoilers, Bully! Mitsuya headcanons from last post

He lifted his large palm, coated in silver and black rings to match his attire. He was wearing a black mock turtleneck that matched his jet black hair. In his youth, he had lilac-colored hair that was either in a buzz-cut or grown out to a mullet. Now, he sported his black hair in his college-years. He was studying to become a fashion designer, a dream he had since his youth after his love blossomed for sewing. It had begun as a chore in order to keep his sisters satisfied and happy, saving money from buying toys by simply creating them himself. As he practiced it more and more, he began to realize how intricate fabrics were. How beautiful colors could come together and form the prettiest structures and designs -- how even the ugliest colors would look elegant if you paired them properly with the right colors, or carefully took apart the threads to create something new. You on the other hand were not studying to become a fashion designer, but rather a photographer. In your youth, you were a free-lancer in art and a quiet overachiever. You had many different career options open to you, but nothing really opened you up in the way art did. You participated in many different types of art, you loved painting, sewing, embroidery, name it, you’ve probably dabbled in it. One day, your class was introduced to your photography unit and all the puzzle pieces fell into the designated places, the pieces being lost and untouched for years. Nothing brought you more joy than snapping someone’s photo on the street to surprise them with the way the sunlight beautifully encapsulated their figure. Nothing brought you more joy than taking an eerily aesthetic photo of the rain pouring on the people below your building as a lady frolocked in the rain below, eager to rejoice in mother nature’s beauty.

Truthfully, your relationship had not started out the way it was now. With his palm ever so elegantly shoving you to the floor, your photographs spilling out of your portfolio as you hit the cold tile floor, protecting your chest by landing on your elbow and knee. Snickers, chuckles, giggles-- they all filled the hallway after seeing you collapse. Only a select few actually took pity on you, including one of his loyal followers, Hakkai Shiba. Mitsuya was usually followed around by two close-friends, Yasuda-san and Hakkai. Yasuda-san was also a fashion major, while Hakkai was planning to become a model. Mitsuya was very well respected amongst the campus for many different reasons. Firstly, he was gifted with the intellect of sewing intrigue designs that made everyone sigh in awe. Secondly, pretty-privilege. You hated to admit it but Mitsuya was a very attractive-looking man, his hair was always fluffed to the right extent, he was well-dressed, and leading into the third reason, he was smart. Despite being a part of the Tokyo Manji Gang, otherwise known as Toman, as one of the second division captains, he was able to manage schoolwork as an overachiever and was known for his intellect. Not to mention, keeping his division in check along with his two younger sisters AND the sewing club that he managed at his school? It was no wonder he was seen as the perfect boyfriend, he had all of his together. This was the reason why his disregard of you was seen as acceptable, everyone assumed you must have done something wrong for him to treat you this way, right?

Incorrect assumption. You have never done anything wrong to Mitsuya-- in fact… you don’t really remember doing anything to him, period. You both met by chance in his home-economics club, which he decided to suggest to the college board upon seeing there was not a club that actively encouraged sewing. At the time, most participants on campus were graphic designers, artists, not really looking to take the fashion industry by storm as Mitsuya was. However, he was able to persuade the board and even got petition signatures to seal it all off. He was the president of the club and upon seeing the posters taped in the hallways, you instantly took the opportunity to get any extracurricular activities on your transcript. He welcomed you into the club but it wasn’t like you got that much of his attention-- after all, the club filled up quickly with Mitsuya’s admirers. Although, shortly before he began his cruel treatment and behavior towards you, it actually seemed like you two were becoming friends. He would begin to check on you a little more frequently than the rest, tapping your shoulder with a warm smile, asking you how your project was going. You would show him your small projects, nothing too big as it had nothing to do with your major, but projects that you enjoyed and had fun doing nonetheless. He seemed most amused by the sweater you created for your dog by letting out a soft chuckle. In return, he showed you the sweaters he made for his sisters, who were now teenagers. It became a routine for him to walk over to you after checking up on everyone else and talk until club hours were over. He’d find anything to talk about and it made your heart swell with how he actually took the time out of his day to make sure you didn’t feel alone. You were sure he had picked up on how you lacked friends in his club, he was clearly trying to make you feel welcome and you couldn’t help but begin to admire him even more than you once had.

One day, however, it suddenly changed. His demeanor was suddenly cold and unwelcoming to you. You noticed when you walked into his club as you normally did, taking your seat. He did not visit you within the 10 minutes it usually took him to check upon everyone else. It took much, much longer, so you simply assumed everyone needed more help than usual. However, when he came over to your table, his words startled you so much that you pricked yourself with your needle, rushing your eyes to meet his own at his sudden harshness.

┃ “Looks like someone isn’t paying attention.”

The venom in his words made your cheeks flush with a tint of red, noticing some of the club members staring at you, also in surprise of his harsh tone. You open your mouth, quickly questioning his behavior, all of your words coming out panicked, in fear you’ve done something wrong-- something to disappoint, or upset him.

┃ “What do you mean, Pres? My projects have never been an issue before.”

┃ “Nicknames are a privilege. Call me by my proper title.” He snapped, your peers widening their eyes, for he never required anyone to call him by his last name.

┃ “...President Mitsuya, I apologize. However, you can’t just--”

┃ “Look around,” he motions his arm towards the surrounding students working at their tables, sewing much larger projects and others measuring their models for their designs. Your right eyebrow began to raise in confusion, he had never minded your small projects. Yet, here he was, embarrassing, no-- humiliating you in front of your peers about how minuscule your projects were in comparison.

┃ “Your peers all have their mind set on a big project or several larger projects. Yet, here you are with your small little trinkets. They’re working hard, and you’re doing the bare minimum to have your work completed for this club.”

Tears began to prick your eyes, questioning what his true motive was here. Surely, the projects weren’t the issue. This… this was too strong of a switch-up. Something had triggered this outburst of his, but you weren’t sure what. He was always stressed, all the time actually-- had he perhaps overwhelmed himself and he was taking it out on you?

┃ “(Y/N).” Your name so violently came out of his mouth, as if it had just crashed on cement. It wasn’t the silky and softer voice you were accustomed to hearing when speaking with him. “Get your head out of the clouds. Are you listening?”

┃ “Sir… I mean, President Mitsuya, with all due respect, you seem to be… unfairly targeting me. Some of these students are creating something as simple as a sweater for their friends, why is something for my dog any different?”

The rest of the club began planning your funeral. While never seeing him this upset on school grounds, they have heard about how foul he could get with his division members. Questioning him was bound to make him explode. They all froze, eyes drifting to Mitsuya for an incoming scolding.

┃ With a harsh grab, his fingers glide under your chin as he lifts it up to meet his face directly. “'You questioning me?”

┃ “N-no sir! I mean no disrespect, I just-”

┃ “You’ll be staying after club hours.”

┃ “B-but sir I have-”

┃ “I was NOT asking.” He half-shouts, dropping your chin from his harsh grip as he makes it back to the front of the classroom where he continues to work on his own projects. Your fellow club members pitied you at first, but after seeing how harsh he got later on with you as the bullying continued, they assumed this was the result of an external conflict.

You don’t remember what he told you after club hours. He was yelling something about how you were stupid, a dumbass, and well, you get the rest. Cruel words were thrown at you as if the day before he wasn’t so fondly helping you with the sweater for your dog-- helping you perfect the stitch of his name. Any time you questioned him or flat-out denied his accusations and heinous words, he would yank your chain and pull you so you were right in front of him as he stared down at you. It was enough to scare you out of ever providing a rebuttal, and you soon learned that as the bullying continued.

Now, here you are, on the floor, calmly collecting your portfolio photographs, not even phased by his now-normal harassment. Usually, a shove would be enough to appease him, but today it seemed like one of those days where he wanted more. He walked over to your kneeling figure as you collected your portfolio, your head turned away from him to avoid giving him any form of satisfaction.

┃ “What do you say after you bump into someone?”

┃ “I didn’t bump into you, dickhead.”

With a swift motion, he forcefully grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him, his lavender eyes piercing straight through you. He was clearly unsatisfied with your response.

┃ “What do you say after you bump into someone, skank?”

Every time you questioned him or talked back, you knew it simply made him angrier. You quickly learned that him acting out was his way of earning your attention, but for whatever reason it was, you couldn’t figure out why. What you did learn, however, from your many other incidents with him, is that he would praise you when you were obedient. Eager to get this over with and save yourself any more humiliation, you replied:

┃ “I’m sorry.”

┃ “I’m sorry…?”

┃ With a sigh, you continue, “I’m sorry, President Mitsuya.”

He smirks, now satisfied with your answer. He taps your cheek with his right index finger and replies:

┃ “Good girl.”

You swipe your face away from his grasp and continue collecting your photographs, along with your notebooks and planner that had slipped out. Mitsuya scoffs as you once more retract your attention away from him and walks away with Yasuda-sun snickering. Hakkai, however, stays behind and examines you for a few brief moments. He walks over to you and begins helping you organize your bookbag. You look up and smile-- despite his silence, his eyes offered every form of apology he could give you. You had learned Hakkai was afraid to speak up to Mitsuya because he was his best friend and was afraid any talkback from him would only result in a deeper hatred for you. You didn’t mind, however, you just appreciated how Hakkai kept you grounded. He helped you remember you didn’t do anything wrong, this was Mitsuya’s doing and his alone. Hakkai was always well-dressed as well, you noticed. He was wearing an incredibly long trench coat with beautiful shades of baby blue, ocean blues and a bright orange that made everything pop. It covered a black mock turtleneck that seemed to be matching the one Mitsuya was wearing and in fact, Hakkai also seemed to have an earring on one ear, similar to Mitsuya. It appeared that he deeply respected Mitsuya, his outfit seemed to be heavily inspired by his own. With everything settled in your bookbag once more, he offered you a pat on the head with a smile as you nodded and thanked him before running off to your first class of the day.

✿ a.n. // I finished this chapter while finishing my AP Psychology hw. I had started writing it and then idk why but I was re-reading the manga and went “wait, now what if we have Hakkai and Yasuda-san…” and ta-da, take my 2.1k words of pure a$$. If this chapter does well, I’ll be sure to upload it on my ao3, too. special tags for @the2ndl and @bren-heron because they both really wanted a fic out of this concept. I hope you enjoy loves <3

[itsclydebitches]

Here's a quandary I've suddenly found myself in: where do you stand on writers deleting their own works, fanfiction or otherwise? I've had this happen to me on more than one occasion - I go to look for an old favorite and find it's since been deleted from whatever site I read it on.

On the one hand, I'm inclined to think that, "Sure. The author wrote it, it's their call. I don't own the work - I certainly didn't pay for it. It's their decision, even if it's disappointing."

But at the same time I can't help but consider the alternative - if I believe in death of the author (and I do), that an author's work fundamentally isn't solely theirs once it's been published, posted, etc., then it also seems wrong to have a work deleted. Stories aren't the sole property of their creator, after all.

But then I circle back. D'you think there are different obligations between authors and readers and the works being made in fandom space? I know if I had bought a book and the author decided they wanted it back, I would feel pretty comfortable telling them no, given I'd paid for it and whatnot. But that's a different world from fanfic and fandom space generally.

So. You're insightful Clyde, I'm curious as to what you'll have to say here (and to all y'all thinking about it, don't flame me. I haven't decided where I stand here yet - haven't heard a good nail-in-the-coffin argument for or against yet).

Val are you a mind reader now? I’ve been thinking about this exact conundrum the last few days!

(And yeah, as a general disclaimer: no flaming. Not allowed. Any asks of the sort will be deleted on sight and with great satisfaction.)

Honestly, I’m not sure there is a “nail-in-the-coffin argument” for this, just because—as you lay out—there are really good points for keeping works around and really good points for allowing authors to have control over their work, especially when fanworks have no payment/legal obligations attached. In mainstream entertainment, your stories reflect a collaborative effort (publisher, editor, cover artists, etc.) so even if it were possible to delete the physical books out of everyone’s home and library (and we're ignoring the censorship angle for the moment), that’s no longer solely the author’s call, even if they have done the lion’s share of the creative work. Though fanworks can also, obviously, be collaborative, they’re usually not collaborative in the same way (more “This fic idea came about from discord conversations, a couple tumblr posts, and that one headcanon on reddit”) and they certainly don’t have the same monetary, legal, and professional strings attached. I wrote this fic as a hobby in my free time. Don’t I have the right to delete it like I also have the right to tear apart the blankets I knit?

Well yes… but also no? I personally view fanworks as akin to gifts—the academic term for our communities is literally “gift economy”—so if we view it like that, suddenly that discomfort with getting rid of works is more pronounced. If I not only knit a blanket, but then gift it to a friend, it would indeed feel outside of my rights to randomly knock on their door one day and go, “I actually decided I hate that? Please give it back so I can tear it to shreds, thanks :)” That’s so rude! And any real friend would try to talk me out of it, explaining both why they love the blanket and, even if it’s not technically the best in terms of craftsmanship, it holds significant emotional value to them. Save it for that reason alone, at least. Fanworks carry that same meaning—“I don’t care if it’s full of typos, super cliché, and using some outdated, uncomfortable tropes. This story meant so much to me as a teenager and I’ll always love it”—but the difference in medium and relationships means it’s easier to ignore all that. I’m not going up to someone’s house and asking face-to-face to destroy something I gave them (which is awkward as hell. That alone deters us), I’m just pressing a button on my computer. I’m not asking this of a personal friend that is involved in my IRL experiences, I’m (mostly) doing this to online peers I know little, if anything, about. It’s easy to distance ourselves from both the impact of our creative work and the act of getting rid of it while online. On the flip-side though, it’s also easier to demean that work and forget that the author is a real person who put a lot of effort into this creation. If someone didn’t like my knitted blanket I gave them as a gift, they’re unlikely to tell me that. They recognize that it’s impolite and that the act of creating something for them is more important than the construction’s craftsmanship. For fanworks though, with everyone spread around the world and using made up identities, people have fewer filters, happily tearing authors to shreds in the comments, sending anon hate, and the like. The fact that we’re both prefacing this conversation with, “Please don’t flame” emphasizes that. So if I wrote a fic with some iffy tropes, “cringy” dialogue, numerous typos, whatever and enough people decided to drag me for it… I don’t know whether I’d resist the urge to just delete the fic, hopefully ending those interactions. There’s a reason why we’re constantly reminding others to express when they enjoy someone else’s work: the ratio of praise to criticism in fandom (or simply praise to seeming indifference because there was no public reaction at all), is horribly skewed.

So I personally can’t blame anyone for deleting. I’d like to hope that more people realize the importance of keeping fanworks around, that everything you put out there is loved by someone… but I’m well aware that the reality is far more complicated. It’s hard to keep that in mind. It’s hard to keep something around that you personally no longer like. Harder still to keep up a work you might be harassed over, that someone IRL discovered, that you’re disgusted with because you didn’t know better back then… there are lots of reasons why people delete and I ultimately can’t fault them for that. I think the reasons why people delete stem more from problems in fandom culture at large—trolling, legal issues, lack of positive feedback, cancel culture, etc.—than anything the author has or has not personally done, and since such work is meant to be a part of an enjoyable hobby… I can’t rightly tell anyone to shoulder those problems, problems they can’t solve themselves, just for the sake of mine or others’ enjoyment. The reason I’ve been thinking about this lately is because I was discussing Attack on Titan and how much I dislike the source material now, resulting in a very uncomfortable relationship with the fics I wrote a few years back. I’ve personally decided to keep them up and that’s largely because some have received fantastic feedback and I’m aware of how it will hurt those still in the fandom if I take them down. So if a positive experience is the cornerstone of me keeping fics up, I can only assume that negative experiences would likewise been the cornerstone of taking them down. And if getting rid of that fic helps your mental health, or solves a bullying problem, or just makes you happier… that, to me, is always more important than the fic itself.

But, of course, it’s still devastating for everyone who loses the work, which is why my compromise-y answer is to embrace options like AO3’s phenomenal orphaning policy. That’s a fantastic middle ground between saving fanworks and allowing authors to distances themselves from them. I’ve also gotten a lot more proactive about saving the works I want to have around in the future. Regardless of whether we agree with deleting works or not, the reality is we do live in a world where it happens, so best to take action on our own to save what we want to keep around. Though I respect an author’s right to delete, I also respect the reader’s right to maintain access to the work, once published, in whatever way they can. That's probably my real answer here: authors have their rights, but readers have their rights too, so if you decide to publish in the first place, be aware that these rights might, at some point, clash. I download all my favorite fics to Calibre and, when I’m earning more money (lol) I hope to print and bind many for my personal library. I’m also willing to re-share fic if others are looking for them, in order to celebrate the author’s work even if they no longer want anything to do with it. Not fanfiction in this case, but one of my fondest memories was being really into Phantom of the Opera as a kid and wanting, oh so desperately, to read Susan Kay’s Phantom. Problem was, it was out of print at the time, not available at my library, and this was before the age of popping online and finding a used copy. For all intents and purposes, based on my personal situation, this was a case of a book just disappearing from the world. So when an old fandom mom on the message boards I frequented offered to type her copy up chapter by chapter and share it with me, you can only imagine how overjoyed I was. Idk what her own situation was that something like scanning wouldn’t work, but the point is she spent months helping a fandom kid she barely knew simply because a story had resonated with her and she wanted to share it. That shit is powerful!

So if someone wants to delete—if that’s something they need right now—I believe that is, ultimately, their decision… but please try your hardest to remember that the art you put out into the world is having an impact and people will absolutely miss it when it’s gone. Often to the point of doing everything they can to put it back out into the world even if you decide to take it out. Hold onto that feeling. The love you have for your favorite fic, fanart, meta, whatever it is? Someone else has that for your work too. I guarantee it.

So take things down as needed, but for the love of everything keep copies for yourself. You may very well want to give it back to the world someday.

[azulapropaganda]

Hello everyone. Today (August 2nd 2020) I noticed a blog who earlier tried to accuse me of being a terf has once again made another post about this. This time she accused me of some other things and since her post suddenly started gaining attention, I decided to clear some things up and reply to every single claim she makes in her post.

I’m genuinely tired of all of this.... So, there’s a insanely popular atla TERF (@what-would-azula-do) blogger that’s been attacking me and my friends, and she worked with a group of TERFs to ban my og spop blog. I literally just made this blog but I’m tired of getting attacked by TERFs, so I’m making a call out post (ew ikr) to end this.

I am not a terf. I did not work with a group of terfs to ban your blog, you did this to yourself by tagging your post with “terfs please interact”, “terfs do touch” and other tags. You’re attacking a minor with false claims that are easily debunked. I have not been attacking you or your friends, I don’t even know who your friends are. I specifically added the “please do not send op any hate” tag when I called you out so my followers wouldn’t harass you.

First off, what-would-azula-do is a pretty obvious crypto TERF. She reblogs and creates a ton of TERFy posts that might flow off the radar of cis people, but directly harms trans people. She constantly reblogs and makes exclusionary feminist posts that exclude trans women, and use TERF rhetoric, and she doesn’t have any trans or non-binary mutuals. She also just posts full on TERF shit a lot, and whenever she gets called out she gets defensive and deletes the evidence. I got this info from an anonymous trans woman that pmed me, but she also used to just be a full on out TERF in 2016, and posted transphobic slurs and memes regularly, and also was a SWERF. Allegedly she deleted the blog and remade with her new main and the what-would-azula-do sideblog. Again this is just an alleged anon tip but I believe it. She also ships a pretty TERFy atla ship (tyzula) that à ton of TERFs on tumblr ship. Now I’m going to go to a huge pile of shit already, ONE OF HER MUTUALS IS LITERALLY AN OPEN TERF.

You say I reblog and create a ton of terfy posts. Which ones? I only talk about atla on this blog and actually make an effort to tag anything else as “off topic”. I don’t think I even made a post about feminism on my blog. You also say I don’t have any trans or nonbinary mutuals, do you have any proof of that? You contradict this claim further in your post (“Has trans mutuals even though she’s a TERF”). You say I post “terf shit” a lot, could you provide screenshots of that please? And according to you, “whenever” I get called out I delete the evidence. I got one anon once when I accidentally reblogged something from a terf I wasn’t aware I was following. I personally wouldn’t call my reply to this anon “defensive”. You say you got info from an anonymous trans woman that I used to be a full on terf in 2016 and that I posted transphobic slurs and memes regularly. In 2016 I was 13-14 years old and I didn’t even have a tumblr blog. I don’t even know how to address the tyzula thing. How is a ship “terfy”? And just because I reblog art, doesn’t mean I actually ship it? I reblog art of several ships just because I like the art.

Unholy-lesbian is one of what-would-azula-do’s TERF mutuals (she has about three crypto TERF mutuals too) that’s just a full on TERF. She was really into the TERF sphere a month ago but went crypto when she became mutuals with what-would-azula-do (probs to protect her crypto TERF identity) she said she’s not a TERF anymore, but she still reblogs TERF rhetoric and all her mutuals are TERFs. She also put TERF in quotation marks which means she probs thinks it’s a slur, which is TERF rhetoric. She’s also a gold star lesbian which means she excludes trans women from her dating pool. I’d go into this bitch more, but this callout ain’t for her.

Could you please give me the usernames of my three cryptoterf mutuals? Look I’m not going to deny that unholy-lesbian was a terf a while ago. She told me this yesterday or two days ago when I talked to her about your post. She also told me she was done being a terf because the community was so hateful all the time. She’s 15 years old, don’t pull her into this.

I’m friends with her so she can find a welcoming and nice community in the atla fandom. She’s on the right path now, do you seriously want to go hate on her for this?

This is a lighting round of all the shit she did, and also her track of aphobia and ableism, so here we go:

I literally have autism and adhd myself.

Used the t slur on her old blog (alleged)

No I haven’t? Could you provide proof of this please?

Has trans mutuals even though she’s a TERF

You contradict this earlier in this post, once again without any evidence.

Misgendered an artist on what-would-azula-do and didn’t apologize

Who? I use “they” whenever I don’t know the gender of an artist. I wasn’t aware this ever happened and I’d like to apologize to said artist of this claim is true

Liked an aphobic meme

Which meme? Also my likes aren’t even visible.

Mutuals with an aphobe that bullied an ace kid off tumblr

Who?

Uses her queer followers as props to denounce her being a TERF

This is ridiculous. My followers know I’m not a terf so of course some of them are going to defend me and support me.

Gaslight her former nb mutual

Who?

Reblogged from a TERF with TERF in her username

Yes and I addressed this already. Someone sent an anon about this, I deleted the post, unfollowed the user I wasn’t even aware of following in the first place, and thanked the anon for telling me about this.

Said the r slur on her main

No I didn’t? Do you have a screenshot of or a link to this post? Also I literally have autism, as I have mentioned earlier on this blog.

Slandered a queer artist on what-would-azula-do

Who?

WORKED WITH TERFS TO DEPLATFORM ME (A NB LESBIAN OF COLOR)

I reported your post once because you were accusing me of untrue things and harassing me, a minor, and you were threatening to murder my followers. I didn’t work with terfs at all, they came to your post after you tagged it with “terfs please interact”

And what does your sexuality and gender even have to do with this?

Even if she wasn’t a TERF (which she is lol) she worked with TERFs to ban my blog that exposed her, which is violently lesbophpbic and nbphobic.

Your blog was banned because you were harassing a minor and throwing around false accusations, not because you are a lesbian or nonbinary. I did not work with terfs to ban your blog, as I have mentioned twice earlier.

So y’all really shouldn’t follow or support her anymore, unless you’re a TERF just like her. (Dm me for screenshots, I didn’t want to post them here since she’d just gaslight me)

Please post all of the screenshots you have in a reply to this post.

Also, could you stop harassing my followers. This is just incredibly gross behavior.

PREVIOUS POST

[spade-snax]

Alright, follow-up post to the "ooooo serious post" I made earlier. You can tell I wasn't really feeling too well when I made it appear ten times more serious than it really is. My apologies, I was overthinking things again.

But my point stands, it is more serious than more things and I need to step my foot down and listen to my needs. (And all the other things around me. Oh, here's a quick sorry again if this is written way worse than my previous post, I woke up a while ago and I haven't been able to stop thinking about this since I went to sleep.)

What I want to talk about first is the name for the AU, being "Cingesnax". I haven't chosen the name myself, it popped up suddenly and people began using it/recognizing the AU as such and so I began tagging my reblogs and posts using the name. However to myself I still just call it "Shadow Filbo AU"

I'm not naming names, and you probably know who I am talking about but for a while there was an user who felt quite hurt by the use of "Cringe" in the name. I don't really like the name either, but I don't mind it as much.

I hammer it in often, which I am sure everyone knows and respects but - this AU is NOT meant for any harassment or making fun out of things. It's purely lighthearted fun and shitposting. It's tributing those things. To me these characters are based on me and my childhood which I poke fun at.

I can see why someone would feel hurt or targeted by the use of the word cringe around these things, considering how it's been used/overused to harm people.

I feel like I had to address this because I do not want to feel like anyone is targeted because of my creation. There won't always be people who like it, yes - but as the creator I feel liek I need to take some respolsibility here. And seeing people ahrmed is the last thing I want, really.

(The person does understand now though, they've replied to me and they're fine, so that's good, but I wonder if there's people who feel upset and haven't spoken up. I mean, that's their thing, they can just block the tag, which is why I overtag my things wich character names and such if you just don't want to see them for any reasons, especially triggers.)

I am still overthinking this and making this more serious, sure. And I KNOW not everyone will read and agree to this, but a simple solution to stop people from coming to conclusions would be figuring out a new name, or just me hammering it in even more as the og creator of this whole thing that it is lighthearted fun.

(Hell, a lot of the things being "made fun of" in this AU I genuinely like or are still a part of. Like Furry Gramble - I am a furry myself, and as I've said many times before he is heavily based on me when I was a younger, way more edgy furry kid.)

But that isn't the main and only reason why I am here and I am just overexplaining myself and making things appear way worse than they are. It's just me overthinking, really - but I still feel like letting everyone know and be responsible is important. Just a lil' reminder, a bop on the head if you will. Nothing too bad, but I fear nobody will read it if I'm not serious in the slightest.

Anyways, onto the other thing, being how this affected me as a peson. I absolutely LOVE seeing everyone's involvement and creations! I'm so very glad my creation brings joy to so many people, not only me and my friends. That it brings us together to just have fun, bond, and create. As said to me before, the fandom hasn't had anything like this before so I believe Shadow Filbo is important in that regard.

I'm still just a person and I want to talk about my work and interests to other people. Like people, you know. But I've also made it as an effort as a creator of a thing to respond to all the fanart I get, and just help people's work get out there. Same with OCs and all other creations within the AU. It all deserves to be seen, you're a great artist. And it makes me really happy to see people happy themselves when I respond to their work.

And even if the amount of stuff I've been getting daily has slowed down, it's still quite overwhelming to me sometimes. It feels like a chore sometimes and I don't wanna force a "YOOO ADSJDFEWRGREWGBRSTH" reaction onto everything because it's not always so genuine. I love seeing all the work but I won't have the excitement if reblogging it and putting in all the tags feels like a chore to me.

I want all this to be genuine and I've been feeling drained. It's absolutely amazing and I am glad that I had the chance and luck to have my work well-knowna nd noticed within a small community to be recognized even by the CREATORS of the thing I am hyperfixating on. But at the same time I feel responsible for a lot of stuff, and the effort I've made to be interactive is quite draining, as I've stated before.

It's taking a bit of a toll on me, and getting more stuff to respond to is like - dishes in the sink piling up into a bigger pile. I genuinely love all of this, but I'm just tired. I need a little break from responding to all of this... Just all the attention and stuff is making me socially exhausted. Definitely the fact I'm a massive introvert and my ADHD kicking in veery nicely. /s

I'm probably going to only reblog stuff involving my characters for the AU and Shadow Filbo himself - and any discussion in regards to the AU. Not someone else's art and OCs for the AU. There's a lot of it. Anyways, I'm starting to lag a little bit with how long this is getting. Yes, my computer is just that weak.

I'm already loosing track of what I've said but, yeah.

This AU has been great, I love it. I love you guys. I am happy for all the cool new people I've met, even if we aren't exactly friends. It's taken a bit of a toll on me and I'll do my best to take care of myself and just - not let it take effect on me. And I hope we can keep this place as accepting and inviting as it can be. Even if it takes changing the name etc. Though i know I cannot change individual folk's opinions.

Yeah, this is realy long now and I am getting double thoughts on this - and I have a test in 20 minutes so I am not sure how active I can be with this, but I doubt I'll be getting many responses yet considering it's 3 or so AM in the US. (9:50 AM here)

Cya guys, take care too. I'll upload a doodle I did yesterday as a little comfort thing after this :)

I hope I can get back onto working on OCs too, and just kinda sit down without artblock or executive dysfunction. Buh-bye now

(Also, sorry this is written in weird blocks/paragraphs, I'm doing this so it's easy on *my* eyes.)

[qiankunfics]

KunTen Masterlist Part 1

AO3 

1.  Body Talk by smallchittaphon

Summary:  He had feared the statement more when the days to His and Kun’s one year mark approached but he shouldn't have. It was childish too, not every relationship is the same he realizes. Rating: Mature Status: One-Shot

2.  cut through the clouds by heartsighed

Summary: Qian Kun, microbiology major, vice-president of the ISA, part-time poster model and full-time mom friend, is perhaps more stressed than he would like everyone to think. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

3.  something new by creamsoda (bobahoney)

Summary: Ten finally asks Kun to fuck his thighs. Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

4.  the aesthetics of beauty by hoeunki

Summary: when Kun’s required to create something that defines art, he decides to draw a stranger that he finds sleeping on the campus grounds. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

5.  kiss me under the light of a thousand stars by gabilliam (vvhymack)

Summary: Ten calls the wrong number, Kun comes to the rescue. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

6.  The Customer is Always Right by 021497J

Summary: Ten honestly isn't a picky eater, the chicken was dry. His complaints earn him a visit from the very cute head chef. He can't help it if he wants to see him once more, all he has to do is complain...right? Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

7.  red, orange, yellow, green, even thicker by eatthatup

Summary: Kun isn’t used to being praised. Physically, at least. Rating: Mature Status: One-Shot

8.  incandescently (for him.) by gabilliam (vvhymack)

Summary: They were no longer the likely protagonists for the typical romance and it saddened Ten. (Historical AU) Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot Trigger: Slight homophobia mentioned

9.  we’ll be alright by syugafairy

Summary: kun never thought of himself as an anxious person Rating: General Status: One-Shot

10. light me up

Summary:  Ten spends most of his life dreaming of being a superhero, and by luck, his wish is granted. Chaos ensues. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

11. the store by _helios (the_heliades)

Summary:  His cat, quiet and proud, will watch with piercing eyes, as they wander out of The Store and into the world again. Rating: General Status: One-Shot

12.  Rain. by softyjseo

Summary: Ten is in love. Kun isn't, apparently. Rating: General Status: One-Shot

13. sweeter than cake by eatthatup for adarkalleyway

Summary: Ten, pouting just slightly, makes Kun melt instantly. Like heating sugar, near its burning point. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

14. kiss me if you like me (slap me if I'm wrong) by mikararinna

Summary: Ten was starting to feel bored of life. He needed a challenge, something to excite himself. Kun had an idea. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

15.  Magnets by orphan_account

Summary: Kun and Ten are roommates. Rating: General Status: One-Shot Trigger: slight harassment 

16.  sibilance by andnowforyaya

Summary: Doctor Qian Kun chases the stories he hears on the rivers to their origins, and he meets a beautiful boy underneath a waterfall. Rating: Teen Status: On-going

17.  get you good by gift

Summary: “Please, don’t make me beg,” Kun whines.“I like when you beg,” Ten tells him bluntly. Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

18.  sweet, sweet love by RedamancyEffect

Summary: Kun is the sweetest omega ever, Ten is head-over-heels for him. Too bad, Kun is a little dense. Rating: General Status: One-Shot

19.  stupid spinach dip

Summary: Yukhei and Mark visit Professor Kun and they find out he’s married to news anchor Ten. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

20.  sunchoke by flyway

Summary: Kun, Ten, and summer at the Sunchoke magazine test kitchen. Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

21.  Handle Perfection

Summary: Ten was going to need Kun to stop this kind of behaviour, his heart couldn’t handle this type of perfection. Rating: General Status: One-Shot

22.  you are my favorite everything

Summary: Ten and Kun meet during the perfect summer. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

23.  no matter how long i wait by dreamlaunch (mayuaka)

Summary: in his search for a dream blocking enchantment, ten finds kun. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

24.  the truth hurts (and secrets kill) by thereisnoreality

Summary: Ten kills while Kun is at work. Rating: Mature Status: One-Shot *Part of murdery martrimony collection 

25.  Open Windows by Mntsnflrs

Summary: Ten constantly locks himself out of his apartment, Kun saves the day and him.  Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot 

26.  green, pink, blue, yellow by rowenabane

Summary: Imagine: a town with manicured lawns, cotton candy sunrises, houses that all look the same. Imagine: a neighbor with a beautiful smile, a terrible secret, a hidden past. Rating: Mature Status: One-Shot Trigger: Slight alcohol abuse

27.  dreaming (are you thinking what i'm thinking?) by okamiwind

Summary: They could not be more different, the pair of them. Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

28.  click, snapshot by kwonjis

Summary:  photographer!kunten fic Rating: General Status: One-Shot

29.  Office Hours by violetpeche

Summary: Kun’s chest starts to ache again as he watches the soft, pink tip of Ten’s tongue slip across his lower lip before biting it. Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

30.  open invitation by andnowforyaya

Summary: Ten’s asleep, and his pink, soft lips are parted, that mouth that gave Kun so much trouble earlier today. Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

31.  What's Life Without a Little Worry?

Summary:  Kun was a notorious worrier. He worried about his grades, about his friends and whether they were eating enough, sleeping enough. Rating: General Status: One-Shot

32.  To All The Boys I Ghosted Before by cobalamincosel

Summary:  The Tinder AU where Ten ghosts Kun in date night— and months later finds out that Kun is his new neighbor. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

33.  Miles Above by violetpeche

Summary: Ten looks up at Kun and lets out a deep sigh. “No.” He leans over to tap on the faucet to rinse out the sink for Kun. “I came in here to suck your dick.” Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

34.  getting closer by flowerhairclips

Summary: Kun is in for a long ass ride when a demon he exorcised ends up falling in love with him. Rating: Explicit Status: Completed

35.  a labour of love by eggboyksoo

Summary: renjun is an artistic genius with a tendency to keep things from his family. his parents struggle to support his interests while pretending they don't know about said interests. Rating: General Status: One-Shot *Part of chaos, family, love collection

36.  Hunger of the Pine by cobalamincosel

Summary: Kun and Ten are ex-college friends-with-benefits who end up becoming so much more when they bump into each other again at the airport after a few years for the wedding of their respective college roommates and best friends, Johnny and Taeyong. Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

37.  We’ll Get Lost Together (Let Me Flow) by easycomeeasygo

Summary: When Ten really gets to look at Kun, his brain short circuits. He’s hot. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

38.  if you believe in magic, come along with me by mainvocal

Summary: Deep down, Kun knows Ten didn't ask to join Card Magic Club because he'd suddenly become enamored with the art of card tricks. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

39.  Antedate by Lertsek

Summary: There are some nights where Kun wakes up and can't hear Ten breathe. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

40.  Permeating and Perfect by Kkaepsongiya

Summary: He can’t stop making noise, not as Kun fucks him so well, the older boy holding his hips tight, pulling him back to meet his thrusts. He knows his hips will be bruised for days after this—he can’t wait to see the marks, to press into them when he’s all alone. Rating: Explicit  Status: One-Shot

41. Open Doors by Mntsnflrs

Summary: He decides he likes the way Kun says his name.He decides he wants to hear it more. Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot 

42.  let's stay together by madhoney

Summary: Kun smirked and squeezed around his boyfriend’s waist. He could really get used to a lifetime of his sass. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

43.  Someday by almostkun

Summary:  Kun laughs at him, caressing his cheek with his thumb. They stay in silence for a while, as Mr. Baudelaire chases Mrs. Austen with the help of Yoshihiro-san. Rating: General Status: One-Shot

44.  i come apart at the seams (so you can stitch me back together again) by okamiwind

Summary: Ten is the shot, and Kun is his chaser. Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

45.  space rocks by gaysadandtired

Summary: no celestial being could compare to Ten and his blinding smile. Rating: General Status: One-Shot

46.  old times by madhoney

Summary: Since his husband was just set on being ornery tonight, Kun decided to just take the L and try again tomorrow. Rating: Explicit Status: One-shot

47.  oh, let's start some rumour by mikararinna

Summary: Rumour has it supermodel Ten has a crush on famous actor Qian Kun. Ten called bullshit. He didn't have a crush on Kun. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

48.  you're insatiable by 10softbot

Summary: kun takes ten to a cabin in the woods so they can finally fuck Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

49.  Reset by violetpeche

Summary: This particular Thursday morning spiraled into Hell on Earth.  Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

50.  Intersequence by pinkwinwin

Summary: a love story in photographs Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

[juminly]

Sugar & Spice

Matchup story written for @nafeary. ❤

Context: From the moment you walked through that door, you made yourself at home (at an incredible pace). Some of the residents were more than pleased to have someone new in the mansion, someone that could stir things up a bit and make things a bit livelier. And others (mostly Mozart, Jean and Isaac) wondered why they would even hope to disrupt the semblance of peace that they have.

You were surrounded by geniuses of all the arts and you were definitely going to take advantage of that. You took the time to spend time with each one of the residents or they would even invite you to spend time with them. Mozart told you about his music and would let you listen while he composed (after you made him understand that you would not leave him alone cause this is an opportunity of a lifetime that you wouldn’t miss), history and warfare from Napoleon, physics from Isaac and the list goes on and on.

One of the residents that seemed to be irritated by your presence was Theodorus. Or at least, that’s what you thought. He always had snarky comments, stating his opinion even when he wasn’t asked. It only seemed that you argued all the time.

[The few times that he’s called you “Hondje”, the punches he got from you were enough to make him stop. You were not all bark, you would bite too (he loved that but never admitted it)]

But that wasn’t the truth. You could call it “intellectual tension”. You were constantly engaged in debates without you noticing it. Theodorus had a wealth of knowledge when it came to the arts, appraising assets and had a keen eye for talent and genius.

He saw something in you and sometimes deep inside him actually believed that he didn’t really have anything to teach you and he somehow had to prove himself.

The day that brought you closer together was a very very weird idea from Sebastian. This man suddenly comes up with things and everyone has to go along with him because he always puts it under the guise of “this was advised by Monsieur le Comte”. He had prepared a cooking lesson where he taught you how to make the most delicious pancakes. Theodorus had a ferocious sweet tooth and if pancakes were involved, he would definitely play nice. And since he was guaranteed a plate stacked with over 8 pancakes, for the first time since you arrived, both of you actually had a nice time together, teasing one another about your techniques and talked about everything and anything that crossed your minds.

From that day and onwards, you would often bond over pancakes (and even go on walks) and he’d be interested to know about the exploits of other artists in the future (and see how he can learn from the information you have to give him).

[he once said: “are you ready for your walk, Hondje?” and you made him regret him by refusing to talk to him until he apologized profusely and in front of all residents for  his insolent behaviour]

As an avid lover and fanatic of Shakespeare and English literature in general, almost every single resident in the mansion froze when you mentioned his name. Except for Vincent. He was delighted to take you to see him.

In Theodorus’ mind, Shakespeare was a threat. To his brother and to you (he didn’t necessarily care about you [that’s what he tells himself] but you were the Comte’s guest so all residents had some sort of responsibility to ensure your safety]. He never liked him and he never will. He recognizes his genius but could clearly see, in those dichotomic eyes, an abyss of grief, darkness and sin. The man was starved for his muse and the universe to bless him with inspiration to create more art. And Theodorus didn’t want you to be a victim of that. 

[Shakespeare was no threat to you. He was pleased by your fascination with his work and enjoyed your conversations. He noticed the younger Van Gogh’s behaviour and knew for a fact that there would be other individuals who would have a part in your story. He would have to sit this one out and just watch.]

Everytime you and Vincent had a visit to Shakespeare’s place, Theodorus would escort you there and back. If it were anyone else, he wouldn’t give a damn but something inside him wanted to interact more with you. He knew that you could possibly open more doors for him. He noticed that you had an eye for things, very perceptive and analytical and your curiosity was your best trait. The more information you get, the better decisions and arguments you can make.

On your way to and from Shakespeare’s place, you and Theodorus would sometimes take detours while Vincent would go buy painting supplies. The younger Van Gogh would take you to art galleries, ask your opinion about other artists’ pieces and as time went by, he started taking you with him when he’d try to negotiate deals for certain venues. You would help him assess the locations, the type of public/audience that surrounded the area and debate on whether it would get the right exposure for Vincent’s art.

The more you both interacted with one another, you discovered that you both might seem like you’re rough around the edges but what drives you the most is your curiosity and your desire to uncover/discover the broad horizons that the world actually had to offer. Theodorus believed in you and knew that you were capable of so much and was so glad that you found yourself in the mansion with all these men, to learn and be who you aspire to be. 

After a while, Mozart was so used to your behaviour which was bizarre to him but completely normal to you. You didn’t take it personally cause Mozart thought everyone was weird. Listening to the composer just play, day and night, ethereal music just swimming in the air and coursing through your body. You would close your eyes and enjoy the music, and sometimes, even dance to it.

Theo passed by the room a few times and thought that you were probably out of your mind… Then after a few times, he couldn’t help but sneak into the music room and dance with you. He was surprisingly light on his feet and it said a lot about his upbringing, something that he was not fond of talking about, but you couldn’t blame him for it.

Genuine smile and seemed like he was enjoying himself, he held you up and twirled you around, letting your feet land on his so he could do all the leading and you would just have to enjoy the ride. Dancing together, your laughter was enough to earn you both a good scolding from Mozart, however, you could see the slight quirk in the corner of his lips. He was pleased to see others thoroughly enjoy his music.

Your interactions with Arthur were always interesting. And this man had a thing with harassing you in the hallway, inviting you into his room, leaning in close, wanting to show you all the joy and pleasure a vampire has to offer. It became more of a joke and a type of banter you would engage in with the mystery writer. However, Theo was not aware of that. He happened to pass by one of your interactions one day and didn’t hesitate to growl loudly at Arthur for making a pass at you, even baring his fangs at him. [He was then so embarrassed to know that both of you were just joking around and immediately left with a disgruntled expression. (you definitely saw a pout also!)]

One day, Arthur was feeling very playful and invited you out to hang out with him at the bar. He had a few games in mind and he had a lot to “teach you”. Even with his sneaky attitude, you tagged along with him and had quite an eventful night. Arthur played a few rounds of poker with some other patrons, with you at his side. He gave you tips on how to read people and pointers on how to find their weak points and tells.

When the clock struck 11, Arthur excused himself to the restroom, leaving you surrounded by the other patrons who took it as an opportunity to make a move on you.

And who just happened to enter the bar at the same exact moment? The younger Van Gogh. (Well played, Arthur).

Theo’s eyes almost flashed at the sight of those men, leering so disgustingly over you. In the blink of an eye, he was by your side and glaring daggers at them. “If you value your own life, I suggest you all stay put in your seats. You, come with me.” Unsure on whether he should take you by the hand or not, he stepped aside and gestured for you to join him with his hand.

One of the men did the grave mistake of trying to reach for you and you could almost swear you heard Theodorus threaten to cut both his hands off if he dared to touch you. 

Once you made it to the table, you saw how flustered the man was and the crease between his eyebrows was so deep. It wasn’t a look that suited him but it obviously amused you to see him in a state like this (in a situation that has nothing to do with his brother).

Theo: Why on earth are you here at this godforsaken hour? Toni: Theo… you need to relax.

Theo: Easy for you to say, Hond… Toni. Do you even realize what those men were planning to do to you? Toni: It doesn’t really matter what they were planning to do. I wasn’t going to let them do anything to me anyway. You know me. Plus, I’m not even here on my own. Arthur was with me. Theo: *his frown only got worse and he covered his face with his hands, rubbing hard* That son of a… Toni: *you leaned closer to him, rubbing your thumb between his brow* As much as I like seeing you like this, this expression doesn’t suit your smug (and stupidly) handsome face. Theo: *he scoffed and a crooked smile appear on his face* Handsome, huh? Toni: Oh, shut your mouth. It’s not like you weren’t really aware of that.

Theo: *exhales and shakes his head* Arthur got me good. 

Toni: Huh? Theo: He knows that I believe you’re a masterpiece… I can see it in your eyes. You’re so strong, so fierce… *he gently takes your hand and kisses the inside of your palm* Don’t look at me like that. I’m serious… *he keeps talking and it almost seems like he’s pouting, his cheeks tinted in the most adorable shade of pink* You’re a treasure that I’ve come across…You’ve become so precious to me and… I can’t let you go. *he pressed a soft kiss on your lips* I don’t want to.

You told him from the very start that you were asexual. Theodore was not shy to ask you any questions about what that meant and to learn more about you. If anything, It taught him to look at things in a different way, especially in how he expressed his love to you.

When you became lovers, you discovered that he has trouble sleeping and barely manages to get a few hours a day. He worries too much about his brother, about the future of his art and whether he’s actually capable of getting people to truly recognize his work. Apparently, he spends all night just reading books and occasionally drinking. But, not for long!

You would force the tall boy in bed and force him into a death-grip cuddle so that he can’t distract himself with anything else but focusing on laying by your side, your warmth and your voice. You would hammer the truth into him, lay it on thick and you knew for a fact that he would do the same for you. You would tell him all the things he needed to hear and know, tell him where he should try to grow and also know when and how to let go. No sugar-coating and no poetry or romancing involved in it. Both of you kept things real all the time which is something that you adored about one another.

If you touch the ridges of his ear, he’ll get awfully ticklish and call you a “monster’ and you couldn’t help but grin at that and say  “I’m your little monster”.

That was enough to make this grown-ass man all blushy and mumble something along the lines of “Don’t be so full of yourself”.

His weakness is whenever you actually make him feel like he belongs to you and you belong to him.  

As a token of his love for you, Theo came up with an interesting idea and wanted both of you to share something that reminded you of one another. He gifted you a pair of amethyst earrings (your horoscope gemstone) but there was a catch. One earring for you and the other for him. So you both went to get your ears pierced in the same place and wore it with pride.

He acknowledges the fact that you have your limits and boundaries and he fully respects them. Relationships are all about giving and taking.

He vowed to you that he would not take blood from another and only drink Blanc and Rouge. He cannot fathom the idea of drinking from another human but you. It went without saying that, only if you were willing and actually wanted to, he would gladly drink your blood. From which part of your body? He didn’t give a damn, even if it were from the tip of your finger, he would be satisfied to know the taste of the blood that courses through your vein, the taste of the life in you. As a vampire, he can’t help his instincts in wanting to consume the blood of his beloved.

He gets a bit flustered if he gets hard and usually just jerks himself to get it out of the way. He also enjoys it when you talk to him while he’s pleasuring himself, reminding him how much you love him (Nothing makes him happier than when he hears those words from you, even if they make him blush) and whenever you feel like giving him a hand, he’ll never actively ask for it though.

Theo did the stupid mistake of teasingly asking you for a kiss and smirking at you. He’d expect you to get on the tip of your toes and try to reach for his lips. What he didn’t expect was for you to punch him in the gut and grab his face and kiss him while he was hunched over. Smug bastard got what he deserved but he was pained and happy nonetheless.

Arthur can’t help but chuckle whenever he sees how Theodorus looks at you or acts around you. He’d tease him and say that you’ve tamed the wolf and turned him into a mutt.

And you’d simply reply back by saying “Maybe it was just meant to be” and didn’t that just draw a shit-eating grin on your boyfriend’s face (he stopped calling you Hondje a long time ago).

Places he kisses to show you affection: your wrists and temples.

Bonus:

Dazai would always use the following nicknames “curious little thing” and “curious little creature” just to tease you.

But your boyfriend was having none of that. Theo was not taking any of that and the writer’s intentions were more than clear to him. He’d sneer at him with “This little creature is mine. Make sure to remember that.”

It’s as if Theodorus knew, that if he didn’t approach you in time… Dazai would be the one to snatch you since he’s your runner-up suitor. ;)

[the-empress-of-snark]

First, I would like to publicly make an apology to JD, the mod from Tomione Finds who initially reached out to me. I was already a bit agitated, and ended up misreading what she was trying to say to me and reacting impulsively instead of processing tthings calmly. 

It was genuinely not my intention for her to be hurt in this situation, but she was and for that I am very sorry. 

So, my initial reaction to kyoki's post was not to bother dignifying such obvious hyperbole with a response. 

Like, seriously, painting me as Fandom Satan so you can pin your flounce from fandom on me is just so wildly attention seeking it borders on the absurd. 

Your post was deliberately inflammatory, completely fabricated and designed solely to smear me, and your criticism that I've never provided evidence was  inaccurate as well as ironic, given that you...don't. 

That shit is exactly the kind of behavior I've been talking about. 

I then realized that staying silent isn't the answer. 

There are folks who might also be experiencing bullying in our fandom community, but feel uncertain if it qualifies as such or is more a personal conflict. Or maybe they're scared to speak up or come forward out of fear of retaliation - such as being smeared as toxic or untruthful like I was.  

Here's the thing. Your feelings are all valid. 

You know what you're experiencing, I know what I've experienced, and no amount of shouting down and being called a liar will ever change that. 

I'm also just going to point out that while my old blog was active, I talked about my experiences with bullying extensively, on more than one occasion. 

If I was going to be called out as a liar and a shit stirrer, that was literally a golden opportunity to do so. But the reason why that didn't happen at the time - a culture of silence that reinforces unequal power dynamics - is part of what I've been talking about. 

The thing about bullying is that it isn't necessarily someone walking up to you and punching you in the face. More frequently, it's subtle, low key, and perpetrated in a way that makes you doubt yourself. 

Here are a few examples of my experiences.

As if I have to state the obvious, reblogging someone's art with shitty tags in order to make fun of it is bullying. 

Also, I had never interacted with this person.  

Next, I only ever shared this privately with a couple people. It was nice of this person, who I'd been on friendly terms with, to let me know what they really thought of me and my writing. (Edit 7/21/21: I'm not gonna shield the identity of assholes any more)

That's some epic level passive aggressiveness right there.

And then just before I deleted,

There is a factual inaccuracy here. I did not ever regularly post in the tag, let alone posts regarding my experiences.

And then there is this:

This was created in June 2018 for members of the Tomione discord, but the history behind it goes back to January 2015. The term and its use was a significant part of my falling out with Nerys and Serpentinred, with the latter deeming it as a 'demeaning slur.' 

Which isn't...exactly what I said in our last email exchange. 

I worded this clumsily, I admit, but I was trying to describe how I felt - using I statements. I did not ever once use the term as a pejorative against her, and she's free to bring forth any evidence that I did. 

At that point though, it didn't matter, though I apologized to both of them in subsequent emails.  They were angry, and immediately severed any relationship I had with them, which was their right to do. 

So, a few years later, these same people suddenly appeared in the Discord using these Inner Circle icons, and offering them up for members of the chat to use. In a variety of colors. No one there had any idea that this was, in reality, a very pointed slight directed at me. 

There's really no way to explain this away as an innocent effort to make something fun for the chat, or as a joke, given the repeated assertion that the term was a slur. 

Somewhere along the line, their feelings toward the term must have changed, because both of them used the icon.

And no, there's been no "owning up" to this. Taking responsibility for your actions involves actually addressing shit with the person you harmed, and not minimizing the effect this had on me as “whining about a button”. 

I have now provided evidence to support my statements regarding my experiences with bullying in fandom. I did not at this time include less easily categorized vague posts made where I wasn't specifically named, but if I read it, it would be clear that I was the person being referred to. These were posts where I was accused of using slurs, or impersonating an artist in order to harass someone.

These posts are still damaging, though, in the sense that they're deliberate misrepresentations designed to create social/fandom harm to the people being talked about, and are examples of covert bullying/relational aggression. 

Which brings me to an observation I'd like to make regarding the angry, almost aggressive disparagement of myself and others speaking, even privately, about our experiences as 'spreading garbage behind our backs'. 

It's hypocritical. It's a double standard, given multiple posts that have been made about me, and honestly, it's concerning that someone could possibly expect to exert that much control over what people say about them, even privately. 

For example, if you and your friends want to chat about how much of an asshole you think I am, and how much you hate me, that's entirely your prerogative, and I have no control over that. You're perfectly free to express your opinion of me on your blog. The reverse holds true as well. Once you start making false accusations, though, it's a different story.

Lastly, I guess if there is anything I would like to see come from this, it would be for folks not to feel hesitant or uncomfortable about either speaking out about their own experiences, or openly being supportive of other people without fear of retaliation.  Because after the actual incidents, the sense of isolation was about the worst. 

Ultimately, this isn't about being liked or having conflicts due to differences in opinion. This is about actively engaging in behaviors, or encouraging others to engage in behaviors to purposefully cause harm. It's about isolating and marginalizing people you don't like and stripping them of support within the community. 

It's unacceptable. 

[cozycryptidcorner]

The Unlikely Alliance

This was commissioned by a user who wishes to remain anonymous. The story is about her two original characters; Sally, a budding artist, and a werewolf bodyguard that had been hired by her rich father.

The sounds of the ceramics cracking together almost send Sally into cardiac arrest, only once she looks over the plates to make sure there are no breaks or chips in the glaze does she breathe a sigh of frustrated relief. Be careful, she silently scolds herself, disgruntled at her own clumsiness but a little too angry to put in much more thought in it. Some random man is supposed to show up on her doorstep today, a person her father picked with none of her input, and her rage at the unfairness of it all seems to be clouding some of her judgment in other areas.

She almost finishes stacking the plates into the dishwasher when someone knocks on her door, loudly and suddenly enough that she nearly drops a drinking glass. With as much poise and grace as she can muster, Sally places the glass carefully in the metallic shelf, spins around, and marches calmly to the door. All that she can make out of the distorted peephole view is a splash of tan skin, and maybe a flash of bright yellow eyes? Something must be off with the hallways lighting because the only people who have that bright a color for eyes are… they are….

The door creaks loudly as it always does, the hinges almost rusted shut. While Sally kind of regrets not harassing the landlord a little more about having them fixed, the grating noise at least makes the bodyguard’s eye twitch ever so slightly, so she suddenly doesn't mind it so much. She stands there, in the doorway of her apartment, mouth in a firmly shut line as she looks this werewolf up and down, though for what exactly, she doesn’t know. It’s not as though she can sniff out any weaknesses like her father, but maybe she thinks that the ability will just show up one day for her to continuously try.

He’s an imposing figure, that’s for sure. His head barely misses the door frame as he steps inside, completely uninvited, mind you, and takes a look around, bright golden eyes dancing from one corner of the living room to the next. His hair is dark, either dark brown or black, Sally can’t tell in this lighting, an old leather jacket just barely large enough to fit those massive biceps, and a belt, decidedly free of any holsters or weapons at his waist. Something about the way he strolls in like he owns the place sends a bitter little zing up Sally’s spine.

“What, no gun?” She asks, hands on hips, a glare growing in her eyes.

“I don’t need them.” His voice is low, but not in a way that makes her nervous, or put off, the way most of her father’s ‘buddies’ tend to make her feel. In any case, Sally isn’t certain whether or not that statement is to reassure her, but there is certainly no feeling of relief.

After a pause, she says, “Well, I’m Sally.”

“I know.” He doesn’t even pretend to tolerate any brief, yet polite introductions.

Another moment of silence, during which Sally feels a ping of annoyance. “And what am I supposed to call you?”

The werewolf shrugs, but at Sally’s calm and withering stare, responds with, “Ronan.”

“Ronan,” she echoes, picking at the underside of her nails. “I can’t say that it’s nice to meet you, Ronan, but I understand that there isn’t much either of us can do about that matter.”

“No, there’s not,” he agrees, “and it would be much easier on the both of us if you don’t put up any fuss. At least until the job is over, then I guess you can complain and hiss as much as you want.”

Sally takes a sharp breath of frustration at the caricature he describes but manages to keep her cool maintained. Instead of giving him the satisfaction of arguing, she steps aside, back towards her dishwasher and begins to set it up for the cycle. “Ground rules,” she says, stacking three bowls by each other. “One, don’t touch the art. You don’t know what is drying and what is finished. In fact, just don’t touch anything.”

“I make the rules here, not you.” He stands his full height, crossing his arms, and gave her a glare just icy enough that it could save the world from global warming. “And I don’t care about you or your feelings or your friends, what I say will go. Anything short of that will have consequences.”

“Rule two,” she continues loudly, ignoring his statement, only glancing over her shoulder to make sure he is at least listening. “The last bodyguard I’ve had seemed fine with leaving messes wherever he went, and I certainly hope you won’t have the same issue.”

He makes a sound, either a laugh, or a grunt, Sally can’t tell, but at least he has temporarily ceased the protests. That counts for something, she hopes.

“Rule three.” She slams the dishwasher shut, maybe a little too hard. “You can watch me from outside of my classrooms. You don’t get to wedge yourself into my life, I don’t want any awkward conversations with my classmates or to get in trouble with my professors. And before you even say anything else,” she can already see him about to argue over it, “this is all I’m asking for you to do. Follow my rules, and I’ll make things easy as possible on you. If you don’t?” Sally shrugs. “I think you have underestimated my abilities to make your life difficult.”

“What do you plan to do, run away? There’s nowhere for you to go where I can’t find you.” Ronan says, arching a single, scared eyebrow. “And your father has given me his blessing to be as rough on you as I need to be.”

Her hands almost start shaking with the rage that floods her veins. “I am well aware, but wouldn’t it be massively inconvenient for you to tell your boss every day that your charge has managed to escape... again? How many times before he decides that you’re incompetent and need to be fired?” Sally carefully wipes her damp fingers on the towel. “I’m assuming that you aren’t new to the network good old dad has created, so I’m certain that you understand that people don’t just get to walk away after a failure.”

Ronan at least has the decency to look slightly put off by her threats, as though it had never occurred to him that a mob boss might have raised his daughter to be as ruthless as he.

“Look,” already, she can tell he is a man of few words, “I am entirely willing to be cooperative- within reason, of course. I just want my own life to continue as uninterrupted as possible. Help me out, and I’ll help you out, alright?”

It takes a long while for him to fully process her statement, but after a bit of pondering, Sally is rewarded with a single, clipped nod to signify Ronan’s agreement. She tries not to let out a sigh of relief, she needs to uphold the facade of dangerous criminal at least until it’s safe to let it down. With a wash of victory rinsing out most of the anxiety within her stomach, she walks over to where her book bag sits and places the strap over her shoulder.

“I’m assuming that my father has given you a detailed schedule of my day?��� Sally asks, grabbing a tumbler full of iced coffee.

“I didn’t bother reading it, figured you’d just tell me.”

That somehow makes her feel better. “Well, school first. You can follow me, I suppose, until I get to the classroom. There are benches in the hall you can chill at until it’s over, and trust me, you’d know if something wrong is happening.”

They step out of her apartment, a cold breeze kicking up as autumn begins muscling its way into summer. The day isn’t terrible, but it’s somewhat awkward having Ronan follow her like a lapdog wherever she goes. Maybe not exactly a lap dog, because one of Sally’s classmates awkwardly asks who the hell is Ronan and if she is at all aware that this terrifying looking werewolf is trailing her. Sally’s had to repeat herself until she’s hoarse to anyone and everyone that yes, she knows that man, and no, he is not stalking her, there’s no need to worry.

But it’s fine, everything’s fine, it’s not like this is damaging her reputation at school at all.

Usually, Sally eats lunch in the cafeteria, picking from one of the many food vendors offered, but now with Ronan standing behind her like some kind of deranged murderer at all times, she’s taken to eat outside, as far away from everyone as possible, but within a reasonable distance from her next class. Several picnic tables dot the campus, so it’s not difficult to find a particular one that no one else has claimed. Ronan eats with her, sitting across from the table. Even though they've been doing this for some time, he seems reluctant to even humor her as she tries engaging in idle conversation.

“You got a girlfriend?” She asks, maybe a week into the weird symbiotic relationship the two of them have managed to develop. It was a shot in the dark, some guys just won’t shut the hell up about their girlfriends, so Sally thought this might be the master key into his life. Apparently not. At his silence, she tries again. “Boyfriend? Um… nonbinary-friend?”

He finally looks at her, eyebrow raised. Sally thinks she’s getting better at reading his moods and takes a gander that this is something akin to amusement. Then, shockingly, he says the first words of conversation that don’t have to do with his job: “No.”

“Oh,” she says, shrugging, trying to not let much of her excitement at getting him to talk show. “Neither do I.”

He grunts.

Having Ronan follow her around might not have been so awful if he wasn’t so… remarkable. To put it plainly, he has a presence, one that most people find difficult to not notice. It would, Sally thinks, be infinitely easier if her father had just assigned a bodyguard with less aggressive features, one that could blend in with just about every average guy who graces her school’s campus. What’s worse is that after most of her classmates realized that no, this man is not stalking her, they immediately got a very different idea of what is happening. One that Sally isn’t what you would call fond of. No one has said it to her face yet, but the tricky questions that dance around the topic paired with the arched eyebrows say enough.

One morning, she’s up before the crack of dawn, as per usual. Shower, check, plain clothes, check. She ties her thick blond curls back into a ponytail, adding a headband to keep any wisps from poking their way out from her scalp. Then, with a kind of serenity that she had not felt in a long time, she walks into the kitchen. Sally opens the cabinet right by the stove, retrieving a pot, then goes through a drawer for a large wooden spoon. Ronan is still dead asleep on the couch, or at least he’s pretending to be, until she smacks the flat end of the spoon against the pot, making a sound almost loud enough to make her ears ring.

Ronan curses, just once, and bolts up from the couch, haunches tense, fangs growing and pointed until they could rip into the throat of someone twice his size as easy as pie. It takes him all but a moment to realize that there is, in fact, no danger, and that Sally is acting obnoxious for the sake of annoying him.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Sally says with a tone of faux cheerfulness so convincing, even her father wouldn’t recognize that she's facetious. “I’m off to my volunteer job. You can stay if you want, but I’m walking out the door in five.”

Ronan squints at her, hair askew, mouth slightly open, and blinks once. “What time is it?”

“Before sunrise, but I'm about to leave so,” she shrugs, walking back around the counter of her kitchen and begins to fiddle with her coffee maker, “you should probably think about getting dressed.”

Though she would never let a word of complaint get to her father, it did feel a little awkward that he slept in some old, ratty shirt with plain boxers. No, not shorts over the boxers, boxers. Maybe he isn’t exactly a guest in her home, but would it kill him to behave a little less… she can’t even think of a single word. Discourteous? She picks out one of her thermoses and starts a coffee cycle, the machine gently sputtering as it heats the water to an acceptable temperature.

“Is there any way I can possibly talk you out of this?” Ronan grumbles, getting himself up and slogging over to the bathroom to get dressed.

“Not a chance.” She adds the necessary amount of sugar and cream to the liquid, the pokes in the drawer for a spoon. “Do you want coffee?”

“I guess.”

“You ‘guess,’” Sally mimics quietly while reopening one of the cabinets, looking over the different thermoses that she’s managed to collect over the years. Without thinking about it particularly much, she reaches inside and pulls out another, placing it under the coffee machine and starting the machine’s cycle over.

When he returns, hair still disheveled, eyes clearly dull with sleep-depravity and annoyance, he grabs the pastel blue and pink thermos without a word of complaint. Satisfied that he hasn’t bogged down her exit at all, Sally snags her bag from the counter and leaves, breathing in the brisk coolness of dawn as she walks towards her car. Ronan takes her keys and gets behind the wheel, insisting on driving in case they get attacked on the road. While he does have a gorgeous, shiny black Harvey motorcycle that half the men in her apartment complex drool over, her dad would just about have an aneurysm if he found out she rode on one of those, so she gets into the passenger seat without complaining.

The drive is almost completely silent, save for Sally offering directions for where they need to go. Just a simple turn right, or maybe a keep straight to make sure he knows where to go. Ten minutes before she’s scheduled, they pull up to a rickety old building with a single street light flickering over the pale gravel parking lot. A chipped sign that was probably bright blue at some time in the past reads Emmerson Shelter, though the ‘n’ in Emmerson is almost completely stripped away.

“This place looks like a dump,” Ronan mutters, hands tight on the steering wheel.

“Well, it is,” Sally says, opening the car door and swinging her legs out. “Held together only with spit and hope.”

Brow furrowed, Ronan follows her inside through the cracked glass doors. The moment he steps through the threshold, the shelter nearly explodes with sound. Dogs start barking, some high pitched yaps that will surely leave Sally’s ears ringing, others low resonating growls that shake her very bones. One of the other volunteers, Margot, comes out from the back with a bewildered look on her face until she sees him. Sally wouldn’t exactly call the look on Margot’s face fear, but there was definitely something rather negative mixed in there.

“Hey, um, I brought a new volunteer.” Sally has to shout over the dog racket.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Margot didn’t seem particularly pleased, but it might have been due to getting barked at point blank by thirty or so dogs. She reaches into the filing cabinet and pulls out some bright pink papers, setting it on the table and sliding it over with a cheap ballpoint pen. Ronan scrunches his nose as he looks at the thickness of the paperwork, which, by the way, isn’t anything particularly significant, but Sally immediately knows he has no intention of filling anything out.

“I’ll help him, don’t worry.” Knowing anything he might say would just tick Margot off, Sally takes the paperwork herself and flashes the head volunteer one of her best smiles.

Either Margot is too exhausted to put up more of a fuss for protocol and such, or she’s beyond the human comprehension of eagerness to get the absolute hell out of the noise pit because she hands Sally the keys and leaves from her night shift without another word. The paperwork goes right back into the filing cabinet, the pen into a smudged mason jar by the ancient computer. With the dogs still barking like the apocalypse has begun, Sally enters the kennel room, little balls of fur shaking almost violently with excitement.

Margot had already fed them, but what Sally has to cycle through a few of them at a time in the backyard area. Already, she begins to fiddle with the cage to her immediate right, opening the gate just to have a blur of black and white bolt from the inside, going towards Ronan at nearly the speed of sound. Before she can even think to do anything about it, Ronan has caught the dalmatian, midair, like some professional dog catcher, and holds it out from his body as it tries licking his face. And fails, certainly by accident. Apparently, all his rippling gangster muscles are no match for an overly excited puppy.

While it is usually a hassle to coax three or four dogs out to the backyard, the moment Ronan steps out through the door, they are all tripping over themselves to follow. Sally kind of wishes he was here on her first day working, back when none of the dogs really knew or respected her. She ended up having to pick up and carry some of them back inside once the outdoor time was over, but there is absolutely almost no issue with Ronan just walking back through the door. They follow him like he’s the dog jesus.

The sun has risen enough that Sally doesn’t feel the need to wear her sweatshirt, so she takes it off and sets it gently to the right of the door, on the dry cement porch. Once she looks back over to the patchy, haphazardly planted grass to make sure the dogs are all behaving, she sees Ronan, on his knees, play-wrestling with one of the bigger dogs. Sally has a sudden, odd realization as he flips the dog onto her belly and starts scratching like he has nothing to lose that Ronan… is actually kind of cute. Of course the moment he realizes that she’s watching, he straightens his spine to throw up a facade of rigidness.

Once all the dogs have had their outside time, Sally does a quick kennel check to make sure everything is up to code, and also maybe a little more than that, since ‘up to code’ isn’t exactly what she would call healthy dog living. Once she’s sure that the dogs are perfectly fine, she hangs out by the front desk, tidying up the dingy lobby as best she can. By the time the next volunteer arrives, a good couple hours into the afternoon, Sally is both exhausted from the work, but also ready to eat her weight in some greasy fast food. It doesn’t take much more than a sentence to convince Ronan to drive through one of the restaurants on the way back to her apartment.

Neither of them talks about volunteer gigs after the end of her shifts, but Sally thinks, as she sits down in the library lounge, that Ronan might have a soft side that he is hiding from her. Maybe to keep her fearing him? She puckers her lips around her pencil eraser in thought. Again, she goes through another, long, disgruntling day of studying until her eyes bleed when she gets back to the apartment complex, bookbag almost impossibly heavy on her shoulder from textbooks and notes. Why she doesn’t just get the ebooks, she barely knows at this point in the semester, but there’s something undeniably organic about the way real books feel that keeps her going the more expensive route. Besides, it’s not her money she’s spending.

Before she has a chance to walk through her door, Ronan grabs her by the shirt and yanks her back into the hallway. Sally has half a mind to let a hellish amount of frustration on him, but then she notices two details. One, his teeth are bared, sharp and pearly white fangs poking out over his lip, and two, his entire body is suddenly tense. He sniffs the air, once, and pokes the door with his foot to open it further.

The living room is trashed. The couch is overturned, cushions tossed wildly from one side to the other, a lamp knocked over and on the floor, the coffee table turned to the side. One of Sally's paintings that stood as a centerpiece for the wall has been wildly slashed to ribbons, and several little sculptures she had painstakingly put together are scattered in pieces. Sally feels the urge to vomit, not in disgust, but from the frustration that slams into her like a tsunami. She doesn’t utter a word of argument as Ronan shoves his way past her.

Sally follows, sticking close to Ronan as he checks to make sure whoever did this is long gone. As they make their way to her room, Sally can already see from the hallway that her prized vase, one that brought her victory in her school’s annual art festival, had been shattered against the faux wood floor. Her chest feels hollow, the air suddenly not nearly enough to fill it, as she kneels down, fingers reaching out for the shards, tears finally dripping down her face.

Ronan is too busy looking under her bed, through her closet, and behind her curtains to even notice until satisfied that there is no one else with them in the room. When he finally turns around, seeing her on her knees, tearfully in front of a mess of blue and green shards, he takes a single step back. But then, completely unexpectedly, he bends over and starts to help, picking up the sharper bits of the vase and setting them in the hand towel she had grabbed. After a few minutes of working in silence, Ronan asks, “Was this very expensive?”

“It’s one of a kind,” Sally chokes, certain that she’ll never make another piece quite like it again. The details she had spent days painstakingly carving, the glaze she had carefully layered to look like sea glass, Sally isn’t even in ceramics this semester, there’s no conceivable way she could do anything about it for a long while with all her other school work piling up. And then, quieter, she adds, “it was the best I did for the whole year.”

A pause. “You… made that?” His tone of voice is suddenly different, more… empathetic? “I mean, I didn’t really see it, but knowing you… it must have been… neat.”

Sally almost hiccups from grief.

Awkwardly, as though he had never touched another human being before in his life, he reaches a large, tan hand over and gives her a pat on the shoulder. “I have to make a call.”

Sally knows what that call is going to entail, and who it is going to. “I don’t want to talk to him, so when he asks, just say no.”

Ronan lets out a huff of breath. “I’ll try, but I’d like to remind you that not only is he my boss, but he also likes to cut off appendages as punishment for not following orders.”

“He still needs you and both your hands. This little show of power from his enemies proves that, at least.” Sally sticks her chin out, folding the small hand towel over the pieces of her vase. “The man is going to be scared, and he’s going to want you even more now.”

Ronan grunts at her statement. “Sounds like you’ve got him all figured out, firecracker.”

“I grew up with him,” Sally manages to keep all the shards inside the makeshift bag she made, “I should hope I do.”

While Sally brushes most of the shards into an empty shoebox, Ronan makes the call, continuously glancing at her as though a sniper pointer will light up her head at any minute. There are a lot of yes sir’s, no sir’s, of course, sir’s, she’s safe sir’s. Sally had never thought Ronan could manage to call anyone sir or ma’am without coughing up a gallon of blood beforehand from the mental pain of having to respect someone.

But her father can have that effect on people.

“I don’t think she’s going to like that,” Ronan says only a few minutes after the call, catching Sally’s attention with the subtlety of whiplash. “But I’ll tell her.”

“Tell me what?” She hisses, impatience blooming in her chest.

Only when he puts his phone down will he face her again. “We’re leaving.”

It takes her a moment to comprehend what he had just said. “We’re- what? No, we aren’t.”

“Sally,” Ronan runs his fingers through his dark hair, dark circles so much more pronounced under his eyes, “look at this place. Look at your things. If you had been in this room maybe even just ten minutes earlier, you might be the one cut up into thin strips instead of your artwork, and I would be in a locked box sinking into the Atlantic. We need to go somewhere else, just until it’s safe to come out again.”

She puffs up her cheeks in frustration but deflates. Ronan is right, and she knows it. In any case, all her father has to do is snap is his manicured nails in the right person’s direction and she’d wake up a week later in Romania. At least Ronan is somewhat more, well, not kind or gentle, but respectful of her as a person. Even after raising her, she still doesn’t think her father has the understanding that Sally is her own individual person with needs that don’t quite align with his. “Fine. Where?”

“I just need you to trust me on that, the least everyone knows, the better.”

It hurts. Sally would never be able to explain how the pain in her chest tightens when he says it. And she knows it’s not the fact that Ronan won’t talk to her about it, no, she’s used to him being gruff and distant. Having to put herself, relatively blindly, in someone for the first time since… her father, makes her feel almost dizzy. She doesn’t have to do it, though, she could whip out her phone and talk to her dad for the first time in a year… but…

“Fine.” Her teeth hurting from gritting them so tightly.

Ronan offers a tight nod, almost as if he knows how much doing so bothers her so profoundly. “Pack a bag, maybe a week’s worth of clothes. And any valuables that haven’t been broken or stolen, but only if they really matter to you. The more we have, the more we will get bogged down with if something happens.”

Sally already knows the drill, though. Surprise ‘vacations’ were far more common in her life than in others, so she’s mastered the art of packing a large amount of clothes in a small amount of time. Now, though, Ronan’s request of packing light weighs against her mind as she pulls a duffle bag from beneath her bed. Things that can easily match with just about everything goes inside, plain colored pants, conservatively patterned shirts, etcetera. Just as she zips the bag shut, a little wooden box full of watercolor supplies that she keeps on her dresser catches her eye. Without another thought, she reaches over and stuffs it on top of her clothes.

Ronan is waiting for her as she hobbles out of her room, duffle strap over one shoulder, book bag stuffed with as much homework and textbooks as can possibly fit in the other. His eyes visibly narrow at her, but he doesn’t utter a word at her attempt to bring some normalcy with her as they go. The sun is already setting as they load whatever they brought into the trunk of her car, and then they are off like a shot. Ronan drives at leave ten over the speed limit, going up to twenty the moment they exit the city limits. Even in the rapidly dimming light, Sally notices how ashenly pale his knuckles are as he grips the steering wheel like a lifeline.

She must have fallen asleep at some point, because she opens her eyes to a bright pink sunrise, a beautiful wash of colors bleeding out from the treetops. Rock plays on the car speakers, turned down so significantly she barely even notices. The road that Ronan is on is scarcely anything more than a patch of dirt, a strip of grass running through the center from the minuscule amount of traffic it sees. On either side of the car is a forest, tall, leafy trees so thick with growth that she can only see the first few rows of branches, the rest disappearing behind a mass of yellows and reds.

“Mornin’ Firecracker.” Ronan turns the speaker down all the way when he notices that she’s awake, barely, her eyelids keep trying to pull themselves back downwards, but awake nonetheless.

“Morning.” There’s nothing more she wants to do that stretch her spine out, but that will have to wait. “How much longer, do you think?”

“Not much.” Ronan reaches down to the single McDonald’s coffee cup in the holder, taking a long, savoring swig. “We are rolling up right now.”

It’s a log cabin, Sally realizes, the car slowing down to a stop. Nothing as grand or as extravagant as any of the other safehouses she’s been in, but this one somehow seems significantly better than those in most ways. It stands at only one story high, though it has a good length to it, and Sally could estimate maybe two bedrooms can fit in there. Maybe three if everything is super squished. With a childlike giddiness to explore a new area, she unbuckles her seat belt, pops the car door open, and steps out into the cold autumn air.

Pulling the sleeves of her sweater down over her hands, she resists the urge to shiver as she looks up at the foliage, her breath steaming out in tiny puffs in the air. After only a minute of looking over the scenery, she begins to help Ronan unload their luggage, placing whatever was in her trunk onto the front porch, by the rocking chair.

“Whose place is this?” She asks once they are finished, her breaths coming out in exhausted huffs.

“Mine.”

”Yours?” Sally hadn’t meant to sound so incredulous, but when she had pictured where Ronan had come from, the idea of a quaint little bungalow in the forest hadn’t crossed her mind. A ratchety tin shed, maybe, the slums of a large city, perhaps, but not… this.

“You sound surprised, firecracker.” He sounds almost smug as he unlocks the cabin's door, pushing it open with his foot.

Sally gives a shrug in response, grabbing as much as she can carry and hauling it inside, letting the door swing shut behind her. While there is an underlying scent of dust in the air, the cabin is clean as can be, which she hadn’t been expecting from a bachelor with Ronan’s rougher reputation. Arms around her chest, she looks for pictures, photo albums, anything that might show her snippets of Ronan’s life, though she ultimately finds nothing.

“You hungry?” Ronan asks.

“Always,” Sally says, still looking in case she accidentally missed anything.

The sound of the refrigerator opens as Ronan investigates their options, though there can’t be anything worth eating if he hasn’t restocked in the few months he had been working with her. Eventually, he comes to the same conclusion as she, shutting the door and letting out a sigh.

“I guess that’s my cue to go grocery shopping. And before you ask, no, you can’t come.”

The request had been on the tip of her tongue, yes. It’s not even peculiar that he can guess her moves, Sally supposes that’s just what happens when two people live with each other for a while. Swallowing down a strange wave of emotion, she tries distracting herself by balancing on the edges of her feet.

“You can’t be on any radars, and most grocery stores have security cameras.” He’s already putting his jacket back on, smoothing his hair back with a single motion over his head. “Just driving through any restaurants with you in the passenger was a risk in itself. You don’t get to be in any more unnecessary danger- what are you doing?”

Sally takes a step forward, then another, and then one more until she’s wrapping her arms around his chest and squeezing as tight as she can manage. “I don’t want you to leave me.”

“Oh,” Ronan’s voice mutes slightly. One of his hands reaches over and sits atop her hair. “I… don’t want to leave you, either. But we need to eat.”

Sally waits a good couple of moments before letting go, then gives him her world-famous puppy eyes.

Ronan gives her a single pat on the head. “Still not taking you to the grocery store.”

She gives him a face. “I’d thought to try anyway.”

Read Chapter Two Here

[marjansmarwani]

Love Yourself Challenge

Rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you’ve brought into the world. tag as many writers/artists/etc as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

tagged by the incomparable @bellakitse - thanks for thinking of me 🥰

All of the writing I’ve done in the past year has really been in the past month and a half and has all been for 911: Lone Star, so I suppose this will be my 5 favorite Lone Star fics. 

I had most, and then all of you 

A series of vignettes about Carlos caring for, being frustrated by and worried about TK throughout season 1.

This was the first thing I wrote for Lone Star is and actually one of my favorite things I’ve written in a long time. It is also so much softer than most of my past writing, and I love the feel of it. 

Plus, it’s the one that got me involved in this fandom and I have been so grateful for it lately. 

Forever (If We Make it That Far)

When Carlos is asked to help with an undercover sting, he jumps at the chance. When it all goes wrong, he is almost certain he is going to die.

But then he doesn’t. He wants to move on, but he’s stuck. Staring death in the eye did not leave him feeling as invincible as he would have hoped.

Luckily, he has this boyfriend who is pretty wise (and alarmingly familiar with near-death experiences) and determined to help him through, no matter what.

I have consistently been shocked at how easy writing this romance between TK and Carlos has been. Full disclosure, I do not have a great romantic track record and I know for sure I have never been in as much love as these two idiots are when I write them. How I manage to do it still baffles me. But I enjoy writing them, and they just keep coming out that way. Thankfully, people seem to like it. (This one also had the added bonus of having Paul in it and I love writing Paul.)

Brother (I will hear you call)

A series of incidents in which Judd looks out for, protects, and harasses the little brother he suddenly found himself with.

This one started out as a bthb prompt and ended up an excuse to write TK and Judd being siblings because I love it. Most people seem to comment on the banter in these and in recent reflection I have come to realize that a lot of that is based my relationship with my sister. We excel at banter. 

Someday (But Not Yet)

When Owen is hurt TK is worried he is not strong enough to look after his dad. He is trying to be as strong as his dad would be for him, but some people remind him that his dad would be the first one to tell him it’s okay to feel. 

This one made me cry while writing it. Which may not sound that impressive and yes, I know we have been going through tough times (trust me, I know), but I never cry. So, I feel like that alone deserves an honorable mention. Besides the crying part, there is actually a line in here I really like too. 

Stars Will Guide You Home

All Carlos wanted to do was take his boyfriend out for some good Tex-Mex. All TK wanted to do was spend time with Carlos. Neither of them had planned on being victims of a carjacking.

Thankfully they have each other to get through this, and that should be more than enough (they hope).

This one is another addition to the “they’re so in love it’s gross/how am I writing them this SOFT” collection, which is fun. But there were also a few points in which I was actually really pleased with my own writing. Plus, I got to do a cliffhanger. I - a one shot writer - never get to do cliffhangers. It was so much fun. 

I tag @caffeinatedflumadiddle @sneetchestoo and @lonestarbabe (if you already did it I’m sorry I’m tired and can’t remember shit anymore) and anyone else who wants in!

[hpconsentfest]

Consent Fest 2019: Masterlist

CF friends--here we are. After months of prompting, creating, betaing, revising, reading, hyping, squeeing, and guessing, it’s time for reveals. 

As with last year, the mods were staggered by the depth of thought and care and time and energy that everyone put into their creations. Likewise, we were heartened every time we saw a like, reblog, kudos, comment, or other hype.

Thank you to every creators and every reader and hyper for giving this fest such a wonderful, community vibe--you folks make CF.

<3

Now, without further ado, read on for reveals!

ART

Title: Coming loose Artist: @owlpostart Prompt: #80 Rating: E Pairing: None Warnings/Content Notes: Lots of very pornographic NSFW drawings,  internalised acephobia, unenjoyable sex, bite and blood fetish.   Summary: Pansy Parkinson has a lot of sex. Until she realises that it’s okay to not want to. Medium: Ink and marker on paper

 Title: Human, Not Object Artist: @nifflers-n-nargles Prompt: #23 Rating: Teen Warnings/Content Notes: Street harassment, cat calling, unsolicited touching, verbal harassment of a sexual nature, fighting back, defiant woman, powerful woman Summary: Fleur Delacour has endured harassment of all kinds from men from a young age. Growing up she’s told that’s “just what men do.” As a powerful woman learning to navigate the world she finds this mentality unacceptable and chooses to live her life defiantly. Medium: Digital

 Title: Something they don’t want to be afraid of Artist: @impasseart Prompt: # 21 Rating: explicit Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: Internalized Homophobia, unenjoyable sex in a flashback See full tagset on AO3 Summary: Draco struggles with his internalized homophobia and fears, even when he really wants something. Last time, it went ugly. And ugly won’t do. They have to try again. Find a way to make it better. Medium: digital art

 Title: Who They Are Artist: @spaceaas Prompt: #15 Rating: G Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: genderqueer/nonbinary character, minor transphobia that is more unintended ignorance than anything else Summary: Draco’s always known who they are. They’ve just been waiting for someone to listen. Medium: Digital

FIC

Title: All The Little Signs Add Up Author: @gold-from-straw Prompt: # 49 Rating: Explicit Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: Past domestic abuse, past child abuse Summary: Harry starts to notice some worrying signs in his relationship with Draco. He flinches when Harry moves too quickly, he thinks everything is going to be blamed on him, and he doesn’t think his own desires count. Harry, fresh from dealing with his own childhood PTSD, jumps to some conclusions. Some of them are right, some of them are way off. Word Count: 9624

 Title: Blind Item #3 Author: @postjentacular Prompt: #88 Rating: T Pairing: Albus Severus Potter/Scorpius Malfoy Warnings/Content Notes:  tabloids, right to privacy, forced outing, homophobic slurs, rated T for swearing, british sixteen year old talking about sex, blink and you’ll miss it threat of sexual violence Summary:  What’s the ssssecret doing the rounds in a certain common room? Rumour has it that the other snakes have been turning a blind eye to this burgeoning love affair, but what will the boys’ fathers say when they hear about it?   Word Count: 7064

Title: Blood Will Out Author: @frnklymrshnkly Prompt: # 87 Rating: T Pairing: Marietta Edgecombe/Pansy Parkinson Warnings/Content Notes: menstruation, PMS, endometriosis, heavy bleeding, cramps, intense period pain, Healers, doctors, hospitals, exams, critique of Healing and medical institutions, family secrets, memory modification, horrible parenting, blood status discourse, self-reflection redemption arcs See full tagset on AO3 Summary: Marietta Edgecombe doesn’t need re-education. She’s done nothing wrong. She just wants to keep her head down and keep her job. At least until Pansy Parkinson starts acting weird and a visit to the Healer suddenly brings the post-war conversation too close for comfort. Word Count: 21565

 Title: Capture the moment (Capture my heart) Author: @all-drarry-to-me Prompt number: 24 Rating: Mature Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: Asexual Draco Malfoy, Demisexuality, Queer Character, Brief mention (from previous encounter) of Mildly Dubious Consent, Photographs, Minor Luna Lovegood/Pansy Parkinson, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley Summary: Surrounded by photographs with just a cat to keep him company, Draco was left questioning his identity and what a new label would mean for his relationship with Harry. Word Count: 9,612

Title: Curry & Wine Author: @dorthyanndrarry Prompt: # 35 Rating: Mature Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: Mentions of main character being pressured to have sex in the past Summary:  Harry’s promised Draco their first proper date. What could be better than homemade curry, a little wine, a much-needed talk? Word Count: 1,651

Title: Epoximise Author: @ladderofyears Prompt: #10 Rating: Explicit Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Consent Notes: Press and Tabloids, Dom/Sub Play, Sub Harry Potter, Dom Draco Malfoy, Sex Magic, Kink Spells, Coming on Demand, Dildos, Magic used as a Restraint, Panic Attacks, Discussion about Consent, Discussion about setting Ground Rules before Sexual Activity, Discussion about Safe Words, Sexual Triggers. Word count: 2487

Title: Forbidden Fruit Author: @momstiel Prompt: # 15 Rating: Teen Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: Internalized Homophobia Summary: “To Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter had always been akin to forbidden fruit.” In which Harry comes out as genderqueer, and Draco envies his self-confidence. Word Count: 1,907 

 Title: The Generation Who Lived Author: @lettersbyelise Prompt: # 11 Rating: Explicit Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Journalist Draco Malfoy, Enemies to lovers, Past relationship, Getting back together, Minor Luna/Neville, Minor Ginny/Blaise, Interview format, Post second war with Voldemort, Enthusiastic consent, Rimming, Anal sex, POV Draco Malfoy Summary: In the months leading up to the 10th anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy writes a series of articles about famous war survivors.

So far, he’s managed to interview everyone he wanted.

Everyone…except his old nemesis, his one-time lover, and the elusive war hero who stubbornly refuses to be featured in Draco’s interview series, Harry Potter. Word Count: 14761

Title:I See You In The Club Author: Elle Gray (LGray) Rating: E Pairing: Draco Malfoy/OMC Warnings/Content Notes: Sex club, Dom/sub play, Light Bondage, Age difference, Consent Issues, Dubious Consent due to Identity Issues, Ruminating on the Topic of Consent See full tagset on AO3 Summary: Draco, recently divorced (for the second time) is finally free to explore ‘other interests’. In particular, reconnecting with some long-put-aside desires to play with dominance. He’s not confident in what he’s doing, but he’s done his research, and surely this delectable young thing, kneeling in wait for him, can help?

'Hello,’ he says, and feels immediately stupid.

'Hello, Sir,’ Alex says, his voice low, barely above a whisper. Draco wonders if it’s an effort to sound sexy, or show submission, or if his throat is so well-fucked by others that he can no longer talk. He doesn’t even know if it matters. Word Count: 12909

Title: Knights in Shining Armour (Ever After Lovers) Author: @thirdeyeblinkings Prompt #: 23 Rating: M Pairing: Bill Weasley/Fleur Delacour Warnings: No major archive warnings See tagset on AO3 Summary: Fleur has been objectified for most of her life, her bodily autonomy often dismissed. Being part Veela only makes matters worse. Word Count: 8.6 k

Title: Like The Sun Author: @marlenemckinn Prompt:  #78 Rating: T Pairing: Remus Lupin/Sirius Black Warnings/Content Notes: Unaware Veritaserum consumption See full tagset on AO3 Summary: Sirius wants a good laugh and when he comes across some Veritaserum, he decides slipping into Remus Lupin’s, the ever guarded werewolf, pumpkin juice will be a great way to start their day. Remus ends up revealing a bit more than Sirius had anticipated. Word Count: 4033

 Title: Lily Luna, Unapologetic: The Things We Don’t Talk About (But Should) Author: @nifflers-n-nargles and @slashfoxes  Prompt: #39 Rating: Hard T Pairing: None Warnings/Content Notes: Implied Dubcon/Noncon, Offscreen Dubcon/Noncon, Implied Violence (offscreen), Implied vs Explicit Consent, Consent Issues, Teaching Consent, Sex Education, Peer Pressure, Harry Potter Next Generation, Badass!Lily Luna, When Internet Meets Magic, Alternative format: magazine profile Summary: “Before I can get my first question out Lily asks me, ‘When was the first time someone gave you a sex talk?’I find myself telling her about overhearing my mom in my older sister’s room when she was home on hols from Hogwarts in her fourth year—I was 10 and had just received my letter. It was the year there had been a string of love potion ‘accidents’ and I could tell my mum was worried.

She nods and jots something down in her notebook. As I continue telling her about these memories, I wonder why I’m sharing all this information with Lily. Aren’t I the one supposed to be interviewing her?

‘That sounds awful,’ she commiserates, ‘but can I ask you one more thing?’ I nod, curiosity piqued by her tone. ‘When was the first time someone talked to you about consent?’” Word Count: ~8,000

 Title: Long live the beautiful heart (who find love and tear it apart) Author: @etalice Prompt: #46 Rating: GEN Pairing: Ginny Weasley/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: Angst, Depression, Abusive relationship See full tagset on AO3 Summary: If Harry were someone else, someone who loves and understand books, someone like Hermione or Draco, he might think of a classical tragedy. He might section the whole catastrophe neatly into five acts and make sense of it that way. But he’s not, and so he doesn’t, and, anyway it’s just the beginning of the story yet. Word Count: 6630

Title: (Never) Be Still My Beating Heart Author: @sliceosunshine Prompt: Self-Prompt Rating: M Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes:  Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Trauma,  Violence, some blood, Vampires, Light Dubcon Parallels, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, further explanation of dubcon tag in A/N See full tagset on AO3 Summary:  Post-War, Draco decides he’s done being comfortable. Which turns out to be quite convenient as he’s thrust headlong into a case involving a Serial Biting Vampire. Worst of all, Potter’s gotten himself involved. Draco thinks he can take it, so long as his heart doesn’t give out on him along the way.   Word Count:  15595  

 Title: a note to the boy I love Author: @violetclarity Prompt: # 81 Rating: E Pairing: Albus Severus Potter/Scorpius Malfoy Warnings: Underage See full tagset on AO3 Content Notes: epistolary, first person POV, established relationship, school romance, communication, consent, sexting except in letters because they are wizards, underage in that they are both seventeen (17), first time, loss of virginity (but that’s a social construct anyway), letter writing, dirty talk (sort of), vignettes, kissing, frottage, dry humping, oral sex, love confessions, boys in love Summary: Albus knows what he wants to do in bed with Scorpius, but struggles with actually talking about it. Scorpius’s solution? Writing letters. Word Count: 4,359

Title: A pink tie, a box of condoms Author: Barry_Manilows_Wardrobe Prompt: 52 Rating: E Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: See tagset on AO3 Summary: It had been months since they’d last seen each other.  And if Potter didn’t show up soon… Word Count: 1459

 Title: One and Only Author: @nerdherderette Prompt: # 20 Rating: Explicit Pairing: Albus Severus Potter/Draco Malfoy Warnings/Content Notes: Bodyguard AU, Bodyguard!Draco, Minister for Magic!Harry Potter, Pansexual Albus Potter, Potions Accident, Forced Bonding, Sharing a Bed, Legilimency, Explicit Sexual Content, Masturbation, Frottage, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Bottom!Draco Malfoy, Age Difference, Implied/Reference Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Prostitution, References to Addiction, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Eventual Consensual Relationship, Romance Summary: Draco always knew his downfall would be at the hands of a Potter.He just never realised which one. Word Count: 19.6k

Title: Risks Worth Taking Author: @keyflight790 Prompt: 83 Rating: E Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: Light BDSM, Dubious Consent, Mildly Dubious Consent See full tagset on AO3 Summary: Draco and Harry broke up 78 nights ago. Only a miracle (or perhaps an errant spell) could bring them back together. Word Count: 18,149

  Title: Ron Weasley and the Clothes of Doom Author: Liesha130 Prompt: #86 Rating: Explicit Pairing: Blaise Zabini/Ron Weasley Warnings/Content Notes: (I honestly don’t know) Summary: Do the clothes make the man?Ron Weasley thinks he has no chance, until one night when he dresses up and Blaise Zabini can’t take his eyes off him. The solution is easy, then, right? Ron just has to keep dressing up, and Blaise will keep wanting him. But every time Ron puts the new clothes on, he’s sent spiraling off into a past filled with insecurity. Will he really be able to keep this up without going completely bonkers? And what does Blaise actually want from him, anyway? Word Count: 32,872

Title: Safe Words Author: @e-sebastian Prompt: # 47 Rating: Explicit Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: Consent, BDSM, Bondage, Whipping, Safe words, Safe Sane and Consensual, Kink, Family Drama, lots of book reading, Dirty Talk, Slapping, Kink Negotiation, Rough Sex, Accidental Bodily Harm, Remorse, Weasley Bashing, Molly Bashing, but please know it’s from Draco’s admittedly skewed perspective, In this house we love Molly Weasley to death even if our characters don’t always, Married couples are kinky too Summary: Draco discovers his husband has been keeping a secret from him. At first he’s amused. Then he’s curious.

The problem? Harry’s always had a hard time saying no. Word Count: 26,867

Title: Sex Ed for Witches and Wizards of All Ages Author: AhaMarimbas Prompt: # 68 Rating: E Pairing: Multi-ship Warnings/Content Notes: Major Character Death, Underage, Explicit sexual content See full tagset on AO3 Summary: Draco and Astoria decide on their wedding night that they’re not going to raise their future children with the same outdated traditions they were raised with, especially relating to love and sex. They never could have predicted exactly how much that decision would change Scorpius’ life. Word Count: 76 732

 Title: So sweet with that blood in your teeth Author: @bangyababy Prompt: # 16 Rating: E Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: Dom/Sub, Consent issues, vampires, sleep issues, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Mind manipulation, depression See full tagset on AO3 Summary: Harry works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. His latest case his to stop a vampire uprising lead by none other than Draco Malfoy. Malfoy seems willing to negotiate with the Ministry. There’s just one small condition: Harry has to agree to be Malfoy’s dinner. Word Count: 25k

 Title: swallow your words Author: @candybarrnerd Prompt: # 67 Rating: Explicit Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter  Warnings/Content Notes: No archive warnings apply Summary: The truth is, not many things are known about the magic that is behind soulmarks. They’ll turn up when they want and not before.

The truth is, you don’t get a choice in your soulmark. The truth is, not everyone is okay with that. Word Count: 9,140

Title: That’s Ace Author: @acciotomriddle Prompt: Self-prompt Rating: Explicit Pairing: Charlie Weasley/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: Asexual character, bisexual character, sex toys, non-penetrative sex, mutual masturbation, monogamy Summary:  Charlie is asexual. Harry isn’t. They still find a way to satisfy both of their needs, however   Word Count: 2080

 Title: They Talked Author: @unadulteratedstorycollector Prompt: Self-prompt Rating: Teen Pairing: Ron & Draco (platonic) Warnings/Content Notes: none Summary:  Is it ok if they talk? Draco isn’t sure, but it keeps happening. Word Count: 1094

 Title: This Year’s Love Author: @thusspoketrish Prompt: Self-Prompt. H/D—how to navigate feelings for your best mate. Rating: Explicit Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: This story discusses complex topics such as slut-shaming, promiscuity, heartbreak, dating culture(s), and sexual autonomy within everyday life. See full tagset on AO3 Summary: This year’s love had better last, heaven knows it’s high time when you try to make lovers from friends. But Harry Potter realises time and time again that it’s simply not possible for him. And then along comes Draco Malfoy— the ultimate foe on the mend. Whatever will become of them? A story about love. Word Count: 84000

Title: A Touch Of Respect Author: @rose-grangerweasleyisbae Prompt: #90 Rating: Teen Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: Family Drama, Touch Phobia, Panic Attacks, Old Fashioned Parenting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Past Minor Character Death (Astoria), Past Ginny Weasley/Harry Potter, Child in Hospital Summary: Five year old Scorpius isn’t fond of people touching him, and he has a million reasons for it. However, his father is of the opinion that just saying ‘no’ should be enough without giving any of those reasons, but not everyone in his new-found family agrees. Word Count: 23.432

Title: Unconditional Author: @ladderofyears Prompt: #32 Rating: Teen and up Pairing: Albus Severus Potter/Scorpius Malfoy Warnings/Consent Notes: Anxiety, Boys in Love, First Boyfriend, First Kiss, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Feelings of Inadequacy in a relationship, Discussions of Pyschological and Emotional Manipulation, Relationship Discussions, non-consensual touching, Scorpius gives good advice, Mild Bigoted Language to describe Asexuality, Discussions about Healthy Relationships, Demisexual Albus Potter, Awakening Feelings of Desire, Eventual happy Ending. Word count: 7277

 Title: The Way Your Heart Touches Mine Author: @bafflinghaze Prompt: # 56 Rating: Explicit Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: N/A Summary: What does it mean when a certain someone gives you numerous gifts on ordinary days? Harry’s kind of sure (and mostly hoping) that Draco likes him. So why hasn’t Draco asked him out yet? Word Count: 3.9k

 Title: The Words that Pass Between Us Author: @elderxprice Prompt: # 28 Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: POV Draco Malfoy; Invasion of Privacy; Loss of Trust; Infidelity; Misogyny, Classism, Unredeemed Draco Malfoy, Verbal Abuse of a House Elf  Summary: Sometimes, Draco draws pictures of what could have been, had he made all the right choices: Draco in the Slug Club; Draco holding the Quidditch World Cup; Draco holding hands with some nameless, faceless person whose become some sick, secret sort of friend. He’s on every page Draco has touched. He flies with him, sleeps with him, laughs with him. And sometimes, if he pretends hard enough, Draco swears he can feel this person’s breath against his neck; a whispered I love you that has him pressing into the mattress every night, only to wake up alone wishing it were real. Word Count: 10,047

 Title: Working Out The Kinks Author: @potter-loves-malfoy Prompt: #18 Rating: E Pairing: Jeddy Warnings/Content Notes: Mild Dom/Sub Elements, Mild DubCon See full tagset on AO3 Summary:

There are three things James Sirius Potter is certain of:

One: He’s loved his boyfriend since he learned what romantic love was;

Two: There is nothing James wants more than said boyfriend to pound him into the mattress;

Three: His boyfriend, Teddy Lupin, can never find out about number two.

—or—

Four times James tried to pretend he wasn’t submissive and the one time he didn’t.

Word Count: 6,247

 Title: You Set My Soul Alight Author: @parkkate Prompt: #13 Rating: Explicit Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Warnings/Content Notes: Post-War, Auror partners, case fic, enemies to lovers, mystery, romance, adventure, pining, getting together, forced proximity, bed sharing, banter, UST, loss of virginity, first time, dub-con, consent issues, secrets, misunderstandings, miscommunication, sleep talking, frottage, rimming, face-sitting, intergluteal sex, anal sex, switching, blow jobs, fluff, angst, angst with a happy ending, references to suicidal thoughts, implied/referenced child abuse, references to depression, mental health issues, emotional hurt/comfort, minor character death, arguing, reconciliation, ewe Summary: Students are going missing at Hogwarts, but that’s not the only mystery Draco is determined to solve. Something’s going on with Potter. He can deny it all he wants. Draco is going to find out what it is. Unfortunately, trying to get to the bottom of it has some unexpected consequences and if Draco isn’t careful, he’s going to jeopardise their mission. Word Count: 54k

[wwounu]

Note: The following contains some themes that might be triggering, I thought it was best to warn before-hand, thank you

You come to the coffee shop pretty early; An hour early, truthfully. There’s no obvious reason why you left to get there in advance. It was probably your nerves acting up. Nothing seemed usual recently.

Soonyoung forgot to specify which coffee shop you were meeting at so you settled your bets with the one on campus, and if it wasn’t the location, you could just walk back out and dial Soonyoung to complain for his poor services.

As you go inside, your head turns to one of the tables, face looking like you’ve seen a dog with three heads. Soonyoung’s already there.

He doesn’t seem to recognise you yet, so you head to the open table and greet the man a hello. “You’re here early!”

“Something got over me.” You shrug. “Have you ordered anything?”

Soonyoung nods, eyes shifting from you to the blank paper in front of him. You focus on the pencil in his hand, itching to move, but Soonyoung’s grip around it only gets tighter. Standing up, you pull out a few notes to order too, “Okay, I’ll be right back-“

“I didn’t think you’ll arrive so soon Y/N.” A voice cuts in, guiding your attention to Jihoon with three coffees and a cake balanced on a tray.

“Jihoon?” Question back, Jihoon creates a thin smile, gesturing you to sit back down again. “What are you doing here?” Nonchalantly, his eyes look up to the ceiling before speaking.

“I’m a regular. Anyway, Soonyoung thought it’d be best to input me into the conversation, additional support y’know. It’ll be lot to take in.”

Worried by his words, you take a seat, now analysing them in your head. Jihoon, on the other hand, was placing the coffees on the table, sliding the cake to Soonyoung as the latter continues to stare at his blank sketchbook.

“Hey,” Jihoon calls, “there’s no point of having it out if you can’t get any inspiration.”

“I’ve had this art block for ages!” Whining, Soonyoung creates a scene in the quiet café like a child. “Something will come to me soon, I can feel it.”

“The only think you will feel is the pain from my hand when I slap you in the face. Now please stop overworking yourself and eat the cake Soon’.”

You watch the two interact, wondering how they manage to get along. The most interesting part was observing the switch from Jihoon scolding Soonyoung to the fondness right after, offering the latter a cake.

Jihoon then pushes a warm drink to you, finally sitting to happily drink his beverage. By instinct, you try and reject the offer, “You didn’t need to do that Jihoon — I’m a bit picky with what I drink…”

“Try it. You’ll like it.” Replying casually, he shrugs and takes another long sip, hiding a laugh when Soonyoung jolts from complaining the hotness of the drink.

“How do you know that?”

The man parts his lips away from the cup’s rim, blinking. “I don’t. You seem like you’d enjoy it though.”

Not expecting that reply from him, you quit the polite argue and take a careful sip of the coffee. Maybe Jihoon was right; Maybe you liked it a bit too much.

“Anyway,” Soonyoung announces, shifting the conversation point, “we should discuss what we’re actually here for, right guys?” You nod in agreement.

“Agreed. I was a bit nervous why you had to be so specific on where to go and where to meet, I was thinking it was super serious.” You lightly joke, trying to liven the mood.

The two males look at each other, faces tinged with panic.

“Oh,” You finally realise, “I see... I’m sorry to joke about it guys, please ignore me-“

“No, it’s not that.” Soonyoung shakes his head. “It’s just… It’s going to be harder than we thought. You haven’t… Seen this side of Seokmin before, so please don’t view him differently after this.”

“You sound like I’m going to leave him.”

Jihoon comments. “I know you aren’t. We know you aren’t, but, friendships sometimes can’t last forever.”

You nod to his words, understanding the seriousness of it all, just hoping inside that Seokmin hadn’t done something serious.

“You tell her first,” Jihoon proposes, nudging Soonyoung’s arm as he drinks (apologising fro making him choke after), “We wouldn’t be here without you, and you were there to witness it yourself.”

Witness? Witness what exactly?

Soonyoung runs a hand through his hair, probably to collect his thoughts judging by the way he puts his hands over his nose and mouth, staring outside. “You’re aware that Seokmin used to go out with someone, right?”

No, you never knew that. This was the first time for you to find out. Shaking your head, Soonyoung grits his teeth, but nods at your response.

“Well he did during the time he was starting out to be a tattoo artist — And I’m sure you know that story already. Her name? Yuri, but that’s not important. Yuri… She wasn’t the best example of a partner. When Seokmin brought her to introduce us, she left halfway through, not informing anyone, even Seokmin, about it. But Seokmin just smiled and stated she was tired. He sees the better in people, he never thought Yuri to be a bad person...”

“... And he’d never talk about her either. When we would ask, he’d just smile and say they were doing fine. At some point, I hated that smile. I hated how he used that smile to cover everything up. I really wish he’d talk to us. We knew about the fights they had — how Seokmin would be left speechless and Yuri insulting him again and again — And the plans that Yuri controlled, only thinking for herself, or using Seokmin when she needs him. Seokmin had so much in plan to do with her, but it would always end up with a rejection text or a harsh scoff to the face, bringing up the fact that he was so dependable and clingy. When something didn’t go Yuri’s way, she’d ignore Seokmin until she got her way, then guilting him in arguments on how it was his fault and excusing her behaviour...”

“... We knew about all of this… But we never spoke to him about it. It was our fault as well.” Soonyoung thinks for a moment, Jihoon’s heavy sigh followed shortly. “But what concerned us most was that Seokmin was so good at hiding it in, covering each lie with that smile of his. He smiled as if everything was okay. He’d never talk to us, he’d never tell us. He almost had us fooled. Until I saw things myself...”

“... It all happened near the tattoo parlour. In a nutshell, Seokmin saw that fool with a guy who was reaching into his purse. Seokmin defended Yuri and pushed the other guy away, only to be pushed back at and threatened by the man. His co-workers saw, which triggered Yuri to calm the man to let Seokmin down, but she didn’t protect Seok’. She addressed her boyfriend as ‘He’ and ‘Him’, and I won’t forget the wink she made at him as he walked off. She’s humiliating.”

Soonyoung has a painful smile, knuckles turning white as his hands fidget. Jihoon does nothing, only swirling his coffee, yet once realising the action, nudges his shoulder ever-so slightly. Soonyoung composes himself.

“Her face changed once he was gone, and in public, she starts to humiliate and yell at Seokmin. ‘What the hell! What was that DK?’ and her reply to Seok’ telling her about the man who almost robbed her purse? ‘’Steal my purse’ my ass! You’re such a pain to deal with sometimes, you know?’...”

“... The words hurt Seokmin more when it came from her, and he was about to apologise until she interrupted by saying ‘If you’re not taking this relationship seriously we might as well break up’. I remember the words so well because I remember how broken Seokmin looked. Helpless, empty, angry. Then when Seok’ was at a loss of words, she’d start attacking him again for not speaking, raising her voice. She was challenging to break up with him, and didn’t stop until Seokmin replied ‘Do you want to?’. I loved seeing her face that moment, not gonna lie. She was at a loss of words this time, and Seokmin had gathered up all of his courage to repeat what he said, and she didn’t take it lightly...”

“... In those seconds, she called him childish, weak, pathetic, challenging him to really break up with her, victimising herself, her last words being ‘It won’t take you long until you crawl back to me’ before storming off. Seokmin took a step back, I remember, and that’s when I ran in to aid him, along with his co-workers...”

“... And since then, it messed him up. He slowly became worse, but he’d talk to us more about it. She’d keep texting his number and harassing him by blaming him when all he does is apologise; when we joke around with him, he’d seem to take it seriously; he’d apologise for the actions he has done and have to be in constant need of reassurance; he’d bring himself down; he’d sometimes zone because of something he said, reminding him of Yuri. She caused him all of this pain, and yet only she benefits from it… That stupid idiot...”

“... Seokmin tries so hard to push it away, but he can’t help it. He’s stood on thin ice, and he’s willing to drown if the ice breaks one day. But it’s hard to know what’s on his mind these days. All of us know what to be careful with around him, but recently, he’s been keeping shut, and I don’t know if it’s a good thing because you take his worries away, or a bad thing because something’s up. I’m guessing it would be Yuri again...”

Soonyoung, now finished, looks back at you. “I’m sorry it’s a lot to take in. But you had to know one way or another, Seokmin might not be ready yet…”

The other male now speaks up, sitting in a better position.

“We didn’t really notice how bad his relationship was getting until I asked him to stay and help me on a project I was composing.” 

The words ring in your ear, and you know what he’s on about. 

“During the middle of the recording, he just started crying in the booth. Seungkwan and I had no idea why, but he couldn’t stop crying. He told us ‘it hit home’ but we didn’t get it until Seungkwan pieced the things together and concluded that the relationship was getting out of hand, and Seokmin had to talk to us.”

It suddenly came to your attention if the other tattoo had something to do with it as well; And you were right on the spot.

“Has he ever showed you that lock on his wrist?” Jihoon asks.

Replying slowly, “He did. But he didn’t tell me much about it. I didn’t want to pressure him into it anyway.”

“It was taken a little after the breakup. He did it himself, and pretty much reminded him of everything that’s happened to him. It’s locked, if you didn’t notice, which can only tell me that he’s scared to open up to people, scared to say the things he wants, scared to fall in love to have the process done to him all over again — That’s what I think it’s about, but the guys and I definitely know it has to do with the break up.”

“Are you okay Y/N?” Soonyoung says carefully, not wanting to disturb your train of thought.

Getting out of your daze, you ruin an attempt to nod and end up doing a weird moving-forward gesture. “Yeah! Yeah. I never thought Seokmin to go through that. He doesn’t deserve it…”

You’re lost in your thoughts again, feeling a sudden pain in your chest the more you think about Seokmin’s situation.

“I’ll… Get more coffee guys,” The shorter male announces, not wanting to look at your hurt face as it’ll affect him too, “be right back. Soonyoung, look after her.”

“I’m fine.” In sync, you shake your head and hand, not noticing the tears on your face already falling down. Why were you feeling so hurt for someone else? You don’t know.

“Holy shit,” Soonyoung curses, turning around and reaching to the other table for tissues, messily handing them over to you, “here, don’t cry please.”

You had questions answered, but now answered, you had no clue what to do.

OPPOSITES ATTRACT PART TWELVE — Tattoo Artist!Seokmin x Florist!Reader

question is will i be able to have the time to update.... im sorry if the chapter was hard i really apologise

one • two • three • four • five • six • seven • eight • nine • ten • eleven • twelve • thirteen

masterlist

[leilas-digital-scrapbook-blog]

Giving Love a Bad Name – Confessions of a Fanfiction Writer

I know we’re supposed to blog about our major projects this week and I promise I will get to that soon, but I’d like to go off book for a moment to address something that’s been bugging me since last Thursday’s class. As someone who’s always tried to engage with fandom in as creative a way as possible, I hoped a class on user generated content would offer a fresher perspective than the usual amount of prejudice and self-righteous superiority that sadly seem to accompany the subject of fanfiction even amongst people that make stories and their passion for it their bread and butter.

Guess I should have known better.

In the world of professional writers, fanfiction is still a filthy word. It sums up everything that’s wrong with the people you’re sharing your stories with: the obsessiveness, the entitlement, the disregard for boundaries, the penchant for making everything about sex. Worse, gay sex, as unspeakably dirty as it’s hilarious. Be warned, writers: if you make it big, your stories will inevitably become a free-for-all at the mercy of those people. A worse fate than even George R. R. Martin could wish on his own characters.

I’m used to seeing the world of fanfiction belittled and disparaged, of course, and I’m the first to admit that the community is often its own worst enemy. But for some reason it still hurt a little to sit in class and listen to people I’ve come to like and respect during these past few months buy into every bad stereotype associated with the form. Not because I felt called out (though yes, I do write fanfiction from time to time, and I happen to quite enjoy reading it too), but because of the underlying assumptions that 1. something that’s not 100% original cannot be art, it’s a violence in fact, especially if it twists someone else’s creation into something it was never meant to be (in this case, queer representation); and 2. there’s something wrong with creating exclusively out of love, without ever expecting to be paid for it. And I have Strong Opinions on that.

So let’s talk about fanfiction.

Actually, scratch that, let’s talk about my favorite subject – yours truly. As you may have gathered by now, I love fanfiction. A whole fangirly lot. My gateway drug into it was my obsession with Lost about 10 years ago and its pesky habit of offing every character I was foolish enough to get attached to. But lo! Someone was keeping them alive through their stories! I felt blessed. I got to spend more time in a world I loved, and I stopped flirting with the idea of giving up on the show every time another character I liked bit the dust. Everybody won.

Even more than as a fan, though, I appreciated the world of possibilities that fanfiction opened up to me as a non-native speaker. I come from a small town in the north of Italy; the access I had to foreign books in their original language was limited, and if I wanted to read something in English I’d have to spend quite a lot of money on one of the very few novels (usually chunky airport bookshop thrillers or housewife romances – not exactly my preferred genres) that shared a single shelf in the bookstore with German, French, Spanish titles. But fanfiction was free, accessible, and there was so much of it. If I didn’t like a story, all I needed to do was move on to the next. Suddenly there was an infinite library of engaging stories to help me make my English better. True, they didn’t all read like a published novel would – there’s a lot of unpolished, error-plagued, stream-of-consciousness-y material out there. But there are also so, so many beautifully written works, and believe me, even for a non-native speaker it’s very easy to spot the difference.

Fanfiction also gave me the chance and motivation to practice my English writing in a way school never could have done. I’ve been writing my own stories since I could hold a pen, but I didn’t dare write in English until I was a fanfiction-loving teenager. It was a marketing decision, really – my first foray into writing fanfiction was for a fandom so small that I wouldn’t be surprised to find out I’m the only Italian representative, so if I wanted any kind of feedback on my work I’d have to suck it up and try my hand at writing in a language that didn’t come natural to me. I would never argue that the feedback I got on my works made me a better writer – contrary to popular opinion, the fanfiction community is made up of the nicest, most supportive people, and alas, you’ll never get a comment on everything you did wrong with your structure or even just pointing out common grammar mistakes from them (though I was lucky enough to have someone explain to me how dialogue punctuation works differently in English than in Italian, so I guess something can be learned even from the Internet). It did motivate me to keep writing, though, and that made me a better writer. If you think I’m being too dramatic, dishing out this monster of a post nobody asked for just to declare my eternal devotion to fanfiction, it’s because it’s personal to me. I can’t even count the number of times I’ve been told that I write in English as well as native speakers, and fanfiction is a big part of why that’s true. I doubt I would even be in this course if it wasn’t for it.

And then, of course, there’s the gay thing. I’m not going to argue about how heteronormativity sucks and representation matters because I’m sure everyone’s as sick of talking about it as I am, but please try to understand how it felt for a gay person like me, used to be depicted in media as a plot device or token secondary-character representation if at all, to be able to step into a world where queerness was the default for once. Where queer protagonists had meaningful queer love stories and queer friends and got to save the world from the Apocalypse too. Or to fight the Empire or go to Hogwarts or everything else fictional straight people have had a right to do since the dawn of storytelling in addition to romancing the hottie of their choice. I’m not asking you to feel as passionately about it, of course, but (especially if you’re straight) you might try and empathize the next time you think a fanart of two boys kissing is something deserving of your amused contempt.

I hope I’m not coming across as the person that screams “homophobe” at everyone who disagrees with her because I guarantee that’s not what I’m trying to do here, but I think the general distaste for slash says a lot about the way our society sees heterosexual relationships as love and homosexual relationships as sex. Yes, there’s a lot of gay porn in the world of fanfiction. But you know what you’re most likely to find? Romance. Not in the saucy literary sense of the word, but in its simpler, most literal acceptation. Fanfiction is just one more way for humans to express themselves, after all, and love has always been front and center in our art. Love, not sex – even if it’s gay. In fact, explicit material doesn’t even make up the majority of what you’ll find on a fanfiction website. Don’t worry, I don’t want anyone to taint their souls by visiting one of those dens of iniquity so I pulled some stats myself. Here’s the number of works for each rating in three of the most popular fandoms on Archive Of Our Own, the current go-to website for the fanfiction community (sorry Fanfiction.net) – Harry Potter, Supernatural and the Marvel Cinematic Universe as of 9/3/2019:

Even counting both Mature and Explicit works as straight-up porn (which I don’t think is quite fair, but that’s a discussion for another day), they only make up less than 1/3 of the material. Kinda disappointing, for a medium that’s supposed to be all about filthy graphic gay sex. Imagine if only one in three musicals actually featured singing and dancing, or superheroes weren’t in the majority of superhero movies. They’re lucky fanfiction is shared for free, or I’d be screaming for my money back.

Maybe I’ve just been brainwashed by SJWs, though, and this has nothing to do with my being an immigrant or a lesbian. Maybe my inability to see what’s so bad about appropriating someone else’s intellectual property for your own amusement is a cultural thing. I apologize – as mentioned, I’m Italian, and we all know Ancient Roman culture was basically just a ripoff of everything those inventive Greeks came up with. It’s in our blood. Hell, our 2€ coin, the biggest, has the face of Dante Alighieri on it, a writer most famous for having written 14.000+ verses of self-insert real-person-fic in which the girl he fancied as a teenager, his favorite author, and God himself all fall over themselves to tell him how awesome he is and he gets to prophesy an eternity in Hell for his political enemies. Talk about wish-fulfilling entitlement. Not to mention all those creatively arid Renaissance “artists” celebrated for stealing characters from the Bible and Greek mythology (seriously, the fact that Greece hasn’t unleashed an army of lawyers on us yet is nothing short of a miracle) and putting them in their cheesy paintings. Other countries can rely on a much stronger moral backbone and endless imagination – I’m sure Shakespeare, Milton, Goethe, those creative geniuses at Disney and countless others never had to resort to something as cheap and despicable as borrowing other people’s characters to tell the stories they wanted to tell.

Either way, I can’t help it – I see the prospect of creating something that will resonate with people so strongly that they’ll make it a part of themselves, that it’ll compel them to make more art, to reach out and connect with other fans, as something incredibly beautiful rather than scary. Maybe this is my usual naiveté speaking, and I will come to eat my words. It’s certainly disturbing that a bunch of entitled fans bullied the Mass Effect developers into changing the series’ ending, and sending actors explicit fanart of themselves is straight-up harassment, but is fanfiction really the problem here? Or is it social network culture, with its power to destroy all barriers and foster hive mind? To give resentment a platform to spread and be heard? I promise that the average fanfiction writer wouldn’t campaign to get an ending changed. They’d just roll up their sleeves and write a better one themselves.

[mayquita]

Pictures of Reality (10/16)

Hi everyone! Here we go again. I’d like to express my gratitude to all those who have given this story a chance, thanks for your likes, comments, kudos and reblogs. It means the world to me.

Summary: Emma Swan returns to her birthplace, Storybrooke, in search of a fresh start after a life marked by abandonment and betrayal. After a year there, she finds the stability she needed and also the possibility of learning about one of her passions, photography. Killian Jones, a former British war reporter with a tragic past, establishes himself in the same town as an instructor of photography, following in the footsteps of his best friends, the Nolans. What will happen when their paths cross? Will their common passion for photography help them heal old wounds?

Rating: M (Language, mature themes, implied sex)

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, mentions of the loss of a limb in an armed conflict.

Other ships / Characters: Although, obviously, this is a cs fic, Snowing plays a major role here, mainly David. In fact, the story contains three different points of view, those of Emma, Killian and David. Also, Henry appears in the story as Regina’s adopted son but he is not Emma’s biological son.

Beta: I’d like to express my gratitude, as always, to my beta @jarienn972 I’m aware that you have had to deal with a monster of more than 100k words and English is not my mother tongue, so I value your effort even more.

Artist / art: Go visit @imagnifika’s blog and enjoy her amazing art. There is no specific art for this chapter but the photo from Emma’s Instagram account will be part of the fan art that Kate has created for an upcoming chapter.

Art for the prologue/ Art for chapter 1 / Art for chapter 2 and banner / Art for chapter 3/ Art for chapters 4-5  / Art for chapters 6-7/ Art for chapter 8

Special mention to @saraswans , thank you so much for your perpetual support, for believing in me when I doubted myself and for offering ideas to make this story grow.

Don’t forget to go read and enjoy the rest of the amazing csbb stories and art.

Word count: ~ 5300 (116k total in 16 chapters)

Also on (From the beginning): Ao3 / Ffnet (Current Chapter) Ao3 / Ffnet

Tumblr: Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11

What to expect from this chapter? Things get a bit complicated… Emma talks to Mary Margaret, Mary Margaret talks to David, David talks to Killian… And the Nolans make a decision but, before carrying it out, they have to celebrate Killian’s birthday.

CHAPTER 9

My dearest Emma,

It's happening! We got the news a few days ago, but I still have to pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming. No, this time it's real. You, my dear daughter, found us, or rather you found your way back home.

I still can not believe that I'll have the possibility of delivering these letters to you in person in a few months. I would have taken the first flight back home, but there are some things that we need to take care of first. We must convince Killian that he should travel with us. We can not leave him here alone, buried under layers of misery, so we will do our best to continue helping him move forward, and if he has to cross the ocean in search of a new beginning, so be it.

You can not imagine the joy we felt when we saw you for the first time in photos, when we were able to finally put a face on our beautiful daughter. You got your chin and eyes from your mother, but the blond in your hair comes from me. You are the perfect mix, the product of our deep love.

I'm aware that the road will not be easy from now on, that there is a possibility that you don't want to know anything about us. And we will understand and accept it, but now that you are so close, or at least you will be when we arrive at Storybrooke, I will settle for knowing that at least you are happy, even without us.

I want to know everything about you. What experiences you have lived, what cities you have visited, your hobbies, your aspirations, your fears, your desires. Will you let us, Emma, be part of your life?

Just a few more months and we can reunite as a family forever. Until then, be happy, Emma on this new journey you have undertaken,

Your father who loves you and never forgets you,

David.

Emma Swan. Storybrooke - February 21, 2018

Emma arrived at her apartment that afternoon with a strange sensation in her gut, as if a bad omen had begun to haunt her. She dropped down on the couch, letting her thoughts run free instead of bottling them inside. Maybe it was not the most appropriate way of acting, but she felt that if she kept blocking everything that disturbed her, sooner or later, everything would end up exploding.

It was the first time in a long time that she felt that recurring uneasiness tightening her stomach into knots and what hurt her most was that everything had happened just when she had finally got enough courage to bare her soul and reveal to Killian her ghosts of the past.

There was something that confused her. Everything had gone well. He had offered her security and confidence, although perhaps his choice of words hadn't been the most reassuring — she didn't miss the deliberate use of the verb try — but the softness of his lips, the tenderness of his kisses and caresses and his proximity had acted as a balm.

Everything had gone to hell suddenly, when he had pulled away from her abruptly, muttering an excuse that hadn't been convincing at all. Until then, she had blamed those sudden changes of attitude to his own demons that kept harassing him. But that had never happened when they were in the middle of an intimate moment.

Maybe she had read it all wrong. Maybe Killian's feelings towards her were not as deep as she thought or maybe he was having second thoughts... Stop! Emma took a deep breath and let it out slowly in an effort to calm down enough to think more clearly. She wasn't going to be carried away by her insecurities now. Instead, she should act and find the answers she needed.

And what better way to get those answers than by asking the people closest to Killian? The Nolans might offer her some light regarding his strange behavior. Emma grabbed her phone with determination and started typing.

Hey! How are you doing? Are you free to see me today? - ES

Hi Emma! Is everything alright? - MM Nolan

Yeah, but I'd like to talk to you about something. - ES

Sure, meet me at Granny's in 20? - MM Nolan

On my way. Thanks :) - ES

//

Mary Margaret was already waiting for her, sitting in one of the booths when she arrived a little later at Granny's. She waved at her while her lips drew a warm smile to which Emma responded with one on her own.

She liked Killian's friend. She exuded a halo of composure with that always sweet expression and her soft voice. But there was also something intimidating in her attitude, although Emma hadn't yet managed to discern exactly what it was. Maybe it was the fact that she belonged to a different generation, or maybe she was the closest thing to a family Killian had, and that made her always feel somewhat under scrutiny, as if they were assessing whether she was worthy enough.

Emma shook her head in an attempt to make those inopportune thoughts disappear. Instead, she sat in front of Mary Margaret trying to muster enough determination to bring up the issue that worried her.

"Hi, Emma!" The way Mary Margaret addressed her, all joy as if she were really glad to see her, was something she still had to get used to.

"Hi, thanks for coming."

"Of course. Are you sure everything is alright?" Mary Margaret asked gently, although Emma could detect how her cordial expression morphed to one of slight concern at the edges.

"Yeah, I guess."

Before she could offer any explanation, Ruby approached the table, placing a cup of cocoa with whipped cream and cinnamon in front of her. A warm sensation hummed under her skin, spreading to her heart. Emma still found it hard to believe that this was her life now, with friends who remembered her favorite drink or with people she had only known for two months who were willing to meet her no matter the reason. Emma's lips curled upward, sending a grateful smile to her friend.

"You know?" Mary Margaret's chin pointed to her cup, while she held her own in her hands. "This's one of the things that I missed the most in London, the closeness, the small details, like a waitress remembering your favorite order without needing to mention it." Her gaze took on a nostalgic glow, but she recovered quickly, focusing again on Emma. "Anyway, the important thing is that we're back. And now tell me, what can I do for you?"

Emma swallowed as she stirred her cocoa, gathering her thoughts in an attempt to find the best way to expose the subject. "It's about Killian." She finally snapped, maybe a bit sharper than she intended.

Mary Margaret's brows furrowed with concern. "What's wrong? Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he's fine, Well, I hope so." The wrinkles on Mary Margaret's forehead became more pronounced, causing Emma to groan inwardly. She definitely had to improve her social skills. "I mean, there's something that worries me about him." She wasn't sure that would ease the worry, at least that which was indicated in Mary Margaret's expression, seemingly far from relieved.

"Maybe it would be helpful if you were a little more specific, Emma." Mary Margaret suggested tentatively, the corners of her lips rising slightly, drawing a smile of encouragement.

Emma cleared her throat and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her nerves. She was probably being ridiculous and imagining things, but it was better if she expelled the thoughts that disturbed her. Only then would she be able to loosen the knot in her stomach. "It's just that... Killian sometimes acts in a strange way. Sometimes he seems fine, but suddenly his attitude changes and he goes into a kind of silence, as if he were shutting himself up."

"I see..." Mary Margaret looked thoughtful for a moment, but then continued. "I'm not sure how much Killian has revealed to you from his past, but I guess you already know that he has not exactly had it easy."

"Yes, I know. I've always thought that the reason was precisely that - the struggle he was still carrying out against his own demons, but there's something else." Emma paused for a moment. God! Keeping a conversation about her intimacies was proving to be more difficult than she would have thought. "We were kissing today... you know." Her voice trailed off, as she averted her gaze, feeling her cheeks flush. "And suddenly he pulled away from me, as if I was burning him or something." Emma glanced at Mary Margaret, holding her breath as she waited for her reaction.

"Oh." It was everything she said for a moment, her cheeks tinged with a slight pink hue, probably matching her own.

"There's this other stuff..." Emma exhaled deeply while trusting her voice to sound carefree enough. "We... we haven't slept together, yet."

"Oh." Mary Margaret repeated as her eyes widened slightly, her cheeks now tinged a furious red. Emma realized later that this conversation should be equally mortifying to both of them because it was as if Mary Margaret was hearing about sex —or the absence of it, to be exact— practiced by her little brother or something.

"It's not that I really care about not having... well yes, I mean, I want to, at some point... but..." Emma was aware that she was rambling, but she was unable to stop herself. "What really worries me is what might be the reason for that attitude. Maybe it's because of me? Am I understanding everything in the wrong way? Maybe he doesn't feel the same about me?" As she expressed her concerns aloud her voice became weaker until it sounded only as a soft murmur.

"Oh, Emma." She dared to cast a sidelong glance at Mary Margaret. To her surprise, she found a sad expression while a shadow of what looked like regret crossed her gaze. Mary Margaret reached out and placed her hand on hers, giving her an affectionate squeeze. "Whatever is going through Killian's mind at this moment, it has nothing to do with the depth of his feelings towards you, I can assure you."

"Do you really think so?" Emma hated how vulnerable her voice sounded. That was one of the reasons why she had protected her heart for so long, to prevent these kinds of sensations from taking control over her.

"Believe me, sweetheart, I've never seen Killian as happy or as excited about something as he is with you, not even with photography, which has been his only refuge for a long time." Her emotions were evident both in her voice and in her expression. Emma could not keep her heart from fluttering as she silently thanked the couple for taking care of Killian all these years.

She let out a sigh of relief as she leaned her back on her seat. "I... I just have this need to help him, but I'm not sure how to do it." She recognized, while her lips drew a small smile.

Mary Margaret gave her hand another squeeze. "I'm sure if we all work on it, everything will be solved eventually. Meanwhile, the best thing you can do is support each other. That's what David and I did when we went through our worst moments." The sparkle of nostalgia returned to Mary Margaret's eyes as Emma wondered what painful experiences this couple — the perfect representation of true love— would have experienced.

"Thank you, really. I'll do my best to help him, he... I also care about him a lot." It was there, at that precise moment and in that random place, when her feelings decided to leave their prison inside her heart and come to the surface. She could not deny it any longer. She was falling hopelessly in love with Killian. That certainty hit her hard, causing her to suppress a gasp as she shut her eyes closed for a moment in an attempt to regain her composure. That gripping sensation didn't leave her, though. She felt about to be pushed into the void without the security that there was a net to cushion her fall.

"I know, Emma, I know." There was something in Mary Margaret's intense gaze that made Emma's heart tighten in her chest, as a strange sensation overwhelmed her, as if she could read beyond her facade and reach deep into her very soul.

//

David Nolan. Storybrooke - February 21, 2018

Don't you think it's about time for Emma to know the truth? - Regina

Honestly, it's none of your business, madam mayor. - David

Well, when it comes to my employee, it is. How do you think she will react when she finds out? - Regina

That's one of the reasons why we are not revealing the truth yet. - David

I see... but that doesn't stop you from involving your friend in this dangerous game, even though he is now your daughter's boyfriend. A very smart movement, David... - Regina

I don't have time for your sarcasm. I have a newspaper to run and you a town to govern. Good evening, Regina. - David

David locked the screen of his phone while taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm the feeling of annoyance that Regina had caused him. The woman had always been characterized by trying to control everything, but this time he wasn't going to allow her to interfere. In an attempt to forget the irritable mayor, he focused on Killian, though he assumed that his friend's unexpected visit was also related to Emma.

He watched as Killian paced up and down his office, stopping now and then to look out the window, or paying attention to any random objects on the shelves. There was something that was worrying him, clearly, and David suspected what it might be, but he waited until his friend was ready to share whatever was troubling him, while pretending to be busy typing on his computer.

After a couple more minutes, Killian seemed to gain enough courage and sat in the chair in front of the desk. Still reluctant, he rubbed his hand over the scruff of his chin until finally, he decided to speak. "So, have you guys already thought about when are you going to tell Emma the truth?"

Never? David pressed his lips together, trying to keep his composure, but the fact that in an interval of just a few minutes two different people had asked him the same question was beginning to take its toll. He had expected Killian’s question, though, at least since they discovered that Killian had feelings for Emma and that they seemed to be reciprocated.

If the circumstances had been different, David would have settled for this connection they had made with Emma. It was not enough, it never would be, but at least it served to keep her close, to know about her life, to support her in bad times. If he could not be a father to her, he would be a friend.

But neither he nor Mary Margaret had expected that there would be other feelings involved. Their somewhat selfish and desperate actions might hurt deeply, and irreparably, the most important people in their lives.

"I... I don't know." He breathed while rubbing his eyes with one hand, racking his brains in an attempt to find a magical solution. There wasn’t any, of course. In fact, they should not have even considered embarking on this path of lies in the first place.

"I'm not sure I can do this much longer, Dave." Killian's desperate tone caused his heart to constrict with regret. David gave him a sidelong glance and what he saw did not help at all to mitigate that gripping sensation. Killian looked devastated, on the edge of the precipice, a crease of concern between his brows, his shoulders tense, a twitching muscle in his jaw betraying his tension.

He took a shuddering breath. "I know, Killian." A wave of guilt curled around his gut when, for the first time, he fully realized the implications of their rash plan. If Killian was already in a precarious position, he had taken advantage in some way of his vulnerability to get his help. He could not forgive himself if Killian ended up even more broken after this.

His friend had not even dared to confess his feelings towards Emma. He could only imagine the storm that Killian was suffering, feeling the pressure on both sides. What kind of person was he, using his dear friend for his own interests?

"She trusts me, Dave, she has opened up to me, confessing her worst experiences of the past." Killian continued, each of his words acting like a dart of guilt piercing his heart. "When she told me about Neal, I just wanted to strangle him with my own hands, well hand…” He raised his prosthesis in a gesture of contempt, ” If I had him in front of me..., or punch the other bloke, Walsh, in the face. She trusted those two assholes and they took advantage of her, lying and betraying her in the most atrocious way. But then, I realized that I was acting the same bloody awful way."

"It's not the same, Killian." David replied weakly, feeling the hole in his stomach deepen when he saw his friend in such a state.

"Are you sure, mate? Because as I see it, I've taken advantage of her with the aim of bringing her closer to you and I've been lying to her all this time."

"You love her, don't you?"

Killian pressed his lips together before answering, while squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. "I do." He confessed through a shaky whisper.

David almost had to repress a gasp at the irony. If they had been in other circumstances, he would have been the happiest person in the world to know that his daughter had found the best possible companion, a devoted, loyal, honorable person. And yet now, due to his own selfishness, two people who were meant to be together might have their future endangered.

"I'm going to talk to Mary Margaret. We'll find a way to fix this, Killian. I promise." He assured, his lips drawing a smile that he hoped would be reassuring enough, though he was actually dying inside, wondering how the hell they were going to get out of this.

//

Killian had left just ten minutes ago when David received another visitor in his office. Mary Margaret hurried inside, taking the chair Killian had left free. The moment his gaze met his wife's, he noticed her creased forehead, her face pale, her eyes lacking their usual brightness. "What's wrong, darling?"

David held his breath, his stomach tightening into knots. He was not sure he could handle a new addition to his problems. Before answering, Mary Margaret twisted her ring while biting her lower lip. "We have made a terrible mistake, David."

He massaged his temples, letting out a deep exhale. He suspected what Mary Margaret was referring to, but that did not make it any easier, not after his previous conversation with Killian. She must have understood his silence as an invitation to continue, since, without waiting for a reply, she spoke again.

"I met with Emma today. She texted asking me to see her." David's heart skipped a beat. This was the first time that Emma took the initiative to see one of them alone, without Killian being present.

"That's a good thing, isn’t it?" He tentatively suggested, still reluctant to hear that such a meeting might be the cause of the state of uneasiness in his wife.

"Yes, it was good. She trusted me, David." Her voice came with a hint of emotion, while her eyes regained some of that spark of hope so characteristic in her. "I'm so glad that she opened up to us. We got a brilliant daughter, brave, small, caring."

"But..."

"But... she was so worried about Killian's attitude. She thought that his sudden mood swings could be her fault..." Her voice trailed off as she ran her hands down her cheeks. "They are so in love and we're ruining everything, David." Mary Margaret's eyes filled with tears, though she blinked a couple of times, holding them back.

His chest constricted in agony. He couldn't bear to see his wife cry. From that day when he had had to say goodbye to his newborn daughter and then found Mary Margaret crying silently for her lost daughter, lonely, and desperate in a hospital room, he had sworn to himself that he would do everything in his power to ease her sorrows and keep suffering away from her. It was evident that he had done a poor job because the tribulations had not stopped hitting them in one way or another.

He got up and reached for her, kneeling by her side as he held her hands in his. "She told you that? That she was in love with Killian?" He asked in a soft voice, feeling his heart pound against his ribcage.

She shook her head, her lips drawing a tiny smile. "Not with words, but anyone who sees them together can deduce it."

"Killian was here a moment ago, he did recognize that he was in love with Emma. He's about to break up, sweetheart." David confessed, looking for his wife's gaze, in an attempt to find refuge and comfort in the serenity of her eyes. He could only see Emma's eyes reflected in her mother's, causing the tug of guilt to tighten his grip on his stomach.

"We must confess the truth, David." Her tone was urgent, but also determined. "Who knows? Maybe there's a way to expose the reality that doesn't make her run away. We should also try to reduce Killian's participation to the minimum possible."

Although Mary Margaret was right, the possibility that they had already lived through their last moments of happiness with Emma caused a gripping sensation to crawl to his heart, squeezing hard. No, he needed one last chance to treasure a handful more of memories with his daughter. "You're right, we'll do it after Killian's birthday." They were not going to ruin Killian’s day even more. This gave them three more days to figure out how to approach the subject to Emma in the best possible way.

Mary Margaret accepted with a small nod of her head while the corners of his lips raised forming a tiny smile of resignation.

He consoled himself with the idea that they would still have three more calm days before the storm. Because if he was sure of something, it was that there would be a storm the moment in which the truth was revealed, either in the form of a light wind, leaving small damages in its wake, or possibly like a tsunami with the capacity to devastate everything around.

Killian Jones. Storybrooke - February 25, 2018

Killian had not celebrated his birthday for ten years, since that day was a constant reminder that he was able to add one more year to his marker while others, who perhaps deserved it more, hadn't been so lucky.

David and Mary Margaret had accepted it at first, the loss of his brother and their friend still too fresh in everyone's memories, but gradually, they had tried to go back to the old habits of making a special event for each of their birthdays. He had appreciated the gesture, he really had, but his birthday would never be the same without his brother by his side.

During the first twenty-two years of his life, but especially after the death of their mother and the abandonment of their father, Liam had been responsible for making that day something special, a unique event. He just could not bear the thought of never having him next to him on that day, so he had chosen to ignore it, which meant no gifts, no birthday cake and, obviously, no happy birthday song.

Even with Milah, he hadn't recovered enough strength to start celebrating his birthday again. Moreover, when that mortal accident ripped her out of his arms forever, his resentment towards that date only increased.

Still, his friends always managed to be with him on that day, even they had traveled once to Spain where he was covering a news event. " We have never been to Madrid ." It had been their excuse, which he had accepted because, deep down, he had always been grateful for those little gestures of affection that reminded him that he was still important to someone.

Today was different, though. His uneasiness still lingered, accompanied also by the weight of guilt and regret. But that did not prevent him, for the first time, from feeling some eagerness for spending the day with his friends and, of course, with Emma.

He had spent the morning making arrangements to start a new course and he had not even mentioned to Emma that today was his birthday, but he would meet her and the Nolans later, for dinner at Granny's. Those were his thoughts - spending a nice evening surrounded by the people he cared for - while he walked to his apartment to take a quick shower and then meet them. What he saw when he opened the door though, caused his heart to drop into his stomach, any excitement for the celebration suddenly vanished.

The image of a perfect family was in front of him, a happy daughter surrounded by her caring parents while all of them watched a family photo album full of memories, all peppered with loving comments.

The reality was slightly different, though. For Emma and the rest of the world, they were no more than three acquaintances, waiting for him to arrive. And this photo album did not keep shared memories, rather his own memories of the past.

There was another element present in that image that, under other circumstances, would have been idyllic, a secret hovering over them, extending its invisible tentacles with the threat that that scene might never happen.

Killian was not entirely sure why the scene had affected him so much, almost to the point of getting sick. They were there for him after all, to accompany him on his special day. And most importantly, they seemed happy, so engaged in both the photos and the conversation that they did not even realize at first that he had already arrived.

But he couldn't bear the thought of Emma losing her parents when she had just found them — even if she did not know it yet — or they losing their beloved daughter they had always longed for. He felt responsible for maintaining that opportunity they deserved so much.

He was already on edge, unable to control his inner turmoil, experiencing an ongoing roller coaster of emotions that left him exhausted and frustrated, all his energy and strength drained from his body. He was the real threat here. Maybe the best thing for everyone would be for him to disappear for a while...

"Killian! We didn't hear you arrive!" Mary Margaret's excited voice brought him back to reality.

"Hey!" The moment Emma realized his presence, it was as if his entire living room lit up thanks to her bright smile and the flash of her eyes. He just needed a brief glimpse of her emerald gaze so that his heart would calm down, such was the power she had over him.

She got up then, walking towards him, causing his skin to tingle, craving for her touch.

She made him feel alive, making him rediscover feelings that he thought were long buried, challenging him constantly, both with her talent and with the promise of a future - with the possibility that not everything was lost for him. She managed that at least during the instant their eyes met, everything else would no longer matter.

"I hope you don't mind..." She offered him a small tentative smile before continuing. "We thought it was better if we waited for you here, since today... well, you know." She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. His heart shrank a little as he realized that he was the cause of her nervousness. David and Mary Margaret might have warned her beforehand and she was acting cautiously for him.

He cast a sidelong glance at his friends, who had decided to stay in the background, still sitting on the couch. David shrugged while the corners of Mary Margaret's lips rose slightly in encouragement. "You can say the word, love." He offered her a reassuring smile as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her toward him, his eyes never leaving hers. She tilted her head and studied him from underneath her lashes. "I just... I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable."

"With you? Never." He could not resist it anymore, and closed the distance between them, burying his head in the gap between her shoulder and her neck in a hug so tight that he feared he might hurt her. She did not complain though and returned the embrace with the same enthusiasm.

It was at times like this that he would have given everything to keep his left hand, such was his need to feel her on all levels. He sought refuge in her arms, letting her scent intoxicate him, the warmth of her body against his acting as a balm for his poor soul.

"Happy birthday, Killian." She whispered into his ear, her warm breath sending electric shocks up his spine, causing him to tighten the hug even more.

He swallowed the lump growing in his dry throat before muttering in a broken voice, "Thank you, love."

It was like this, in the middle of his living room, with his friends as witnesses while he clung to Emma for dear life, when he realized that he could not continue like this. He could not force his friends to confess. They were the ones who should tell the truth to their daughter when they thought the time had come, not because of fear that he would explode. He was interfering with the whole process, becoming a real threat.

No, he had to make a getaway as soon as possible, take distance and figure out a way to solve all this without the need for too much collateral damage. Maybe it would only take a couple of days, he tried to convince himself, although he was aware that he was not going to find any magic formula. Still, perhaps the distance allowed him to recover enough strength to face everything that was to come.

He’d look for the first flight to London tomorrow, and would only tell his friends about his improvised trip at the last moment, to prevent them from trying to change his mind. Even so, the idea of separating from Emma dug a hole in his heart so deep that he did not know if he would be strong enough to take that flight.

// 

TheLadySwan: There is something exciting when you give away a blank photo album. You are not only delivering a material object, a handful of blank pages bound in leather. You are actually offering a promise in the form of trusting that the person who receives it will be able to live experiences that deserve to be immortalized, filling in this way, those pages of memories that will last forever. There is also something a little more selfish in the act, that is, the hope that your image occupies a place between those pages since that would mean that you too will be part of those memories ... Happy birthday.

//

I'm sorry... Thanks for reading. Let me know what did you all think :) What to expect from the next chapter? Will Killian be able to go to London to give the Nolans more time? We'll find out next week...