#i played coy on twitter but here i can just be straight up

[twinkle-art]

no more once upon a time and so on and so forth

[corpsehusband-simp]

Insecure

Request: Can you do a roommate fluff where the reader is noticeably just avoiding eating and all that and corpse tries to comfort her and reassure her.

A/N: This is a bit heavier than I have written but I hope you guys like it. Please remember you are beautiful no matter your body type. I am always here if you need to talk and my DMs are always open for you to message me. I love you guys. Also thank you so much for 500+ followers!!!

Warnings: Angst. Body image issues. Cursing. fluff at the end.

✨Master list✨

You looked up from your phone hearing a giggle coming from Corpse. He was sitting on the other end of the couch also on his phone but your legs were stretched over his lap and his free hand gently traced up and down your shin. These were your favorite days, just you and him hanging out. “What are you giggling about bug?” It was a nickname you had given your best friend years ago. Corpse leaned over showing you his phone. It was a pretty girl dancing to one of his songs. Your smile faltered a little but you quickly recover. “They are getting really creative, how does it feel to have reinvented the E-girl catgirls?” Corpse snorted and shook his head as he returned to his original position. “This whole thing is fucking crazy, I genuinely wasn’t expecting any of this to happen.” You let out a hum and looked at his Instagram story. Your stomach turned a little and your heart dropped. All of the girls he posted on his story were skinny and beautiful. Why would he want to be friends with me when there are all of these beautiful people around him? He must look at me and feel embarrassed. You shook your head and stood up, shoving your phone into your pocket. “I’ll be right back.” You walk into the bathroom and lift up your shirt looking at your body in the mirror. Your fingers gently traced your stretch marks. You didn’t want to spend your time comparing yourself to random girls on the internet but you couldn’t help it when your best friends Twitter and Instagram were flooded by them. You put back on your shirt and rub your face before going back out to the living room. “It’s my night to make dinner, what are you in the mood for?” You needed a distraction and cooking was the perfect thing. Corpse chuckled looking up at you. “Peanut every night is your night to cook, remember when you first moved in here I burnt ramen in the microwave.” You threw your head back laughing at the memory. “Yeah, you are banned from the kitchen. Not to mention you couldn’t get the aluminum foil open.” Corpse gasped and threw a pillow at your head. “Rude!” You laugh and threw the pillow back at him before going to the kitchen. Corpse got up as well and leans on the counter as you search through the fridge. “Buuuug what sounds good what do you want to eat?” “Why do I have to pick what do you want?” You sigh and keep your back to Corpse. “I’m not really hungry” you shrug and turn around, finally looking at Corpse. His eyebrows were furred together. He stood up straight, setting his phone down on the counter and crossing his arms. “Y/N.” His voice was calm but it had a stern edge to it. “Why are you doing that?” You bit the inside of your lip and look at him. “Doing what?” You decided to play oblivious but you knew he wasn’t going to buy it, the man knew everything about you and could read you like a book. “Y/N don’t play coy with me. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you haven’t been eating. I thought maybe you were on your period or just weren’t feeling well but this-” He motioned his hand in front of you. “This is different, so please tell me what’s going on because I’m worried about you.” You saw the sincerity in his eyes. You hated that he was worried because you knew he was already filled with so much anxiety. You blinked a few times trying to fight back the tears. “It’s nothing Corpse. I’m just not hungry.” Your voice was just above a whisper in fear that if you made it any louder it would fail you and shake. Before Corpse could push the topic any further you close the fridge and leave the kitchen going to your room. “I’m gonna head to bed early. “Y/N wait plea-” You cut him short closing your door locking it. You fell face-first into your bed and let out a sob into your pillow. You hated feeling like this. You laid there for a while crying as you looked at the different girls Corpse was posting. You jumped a little hearing a soft knock at the door. “Hey, peanut...can I come in?” You bit your lip laying there for a moment contemplating if you should pretend to be asleep or not. “I can’t see that you’re active on Instagram so don’t even try and pretend you are asleep.” A small smile forms on your lips. “Brat.” You mumble getting up, as you walk to the door you catch a glimpse of yourself in the full-length mirror your eyes were red and puffy. You sigh and open the door. “Hi” Corpse frowns and reaches up wiping away a stray tear off your cheek. “Y/N we are best friends, you are the most important person in my life, you’ve been there for me through everything. You’ve stuck through all the bullshit and you know that I’ve always, always been right here for you so why are you pushing me away now?” You let out a shaky breath and look at the ground avoiding eye contact with him. “Because it’s stupid.” Corpse cups your cheeks with both his hands and gently makes you look at him. “If it’s making you feel like this then it’s not stupid, so please Y/N tell me what’s going on. Talk it through with me because maybe I can help.” You look up into his eyes and your bottom lip starts to shake. “I’m ugly. I hate myself Corpse. I look at all the girls you post and I want to be beautiful and skinny like them.” Corpse’s jaw dropped and his heart broke at your words. “Y/N…” He paused for a moment taking in a shaky breath and tries to blink away his tears. “You are beautiful. There is no debate about that. Your weight does not define your beauty. But you, my dear, are beautiful on the inside and outside. You outshine every girl I have ever posted on my story. I am honored every day to have you in my life please never forget that.” Corpse let go of your face and pulls you into a tight close hug. You cling to him and nuzzle your face into his shoulder. “I love you Corpse thank you for always being my rock.” he gave you a squeeze and rests his chin on your head. “We keep each other grounded. I don’t know where I would be without you.” He pulls back and pinches your cheek. “Now come on Peanut lets get some food and watch TV.” You smile, looking up at him. I may not be perfect but imperfect to him and that’s all that matters. You think to yourself before nodding. “Okay bug but your driving.” He grabs his keys out of his pocket and takes you hand in his. “Deal now come on.”

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[maan-is-done]

I found this twitter account who shared the details about banana fish stage play.

It covers the first thirteen episodes of the anime, ie until the end of the Arthur fight. There's no intermission so don't ask me about halfway points or whatever. It opens the same way as both the manga and anime (though Vietnam because manga years)

Don't quote me on this, but certain Questionable lines were changed or cut completely. (Ex. No skip needing to specify hE's GaY to Eiji, and it was quick but I believeee shorter's line was altered)

The first change I can think of is that Marvin straight up says he's a fan of his CP the first meeting, instead of the coy indirectness. So it's not like a twist, it's something you know all along. (Though idk anyone going to see it who wouldn't know)

Eiji kawaii. He played up the innocence and cheerfulness pretty well. He got his pole jumping but lol it was low-key more parkour because stunts lol

It was actually kinda sweet framing it that way. Ash and Eiji heart to heart and then Ash kisses him. The kiss is included!

The interrogation scene with Ash was cut. (Like I said, they told us outright he was in CP). The hospital meeting with Ash and Eiji was also cut (but Eiji was still told his backstory by Charlie) HOWEVER much of the conversation was into their prison conversation

Max gives a line about how a young pretty boy will have trouble in prison, but the assault scene is cut. Instead Ash pretends to be sick to go to the doctor

The first BIG change that I imagine was due to both time and set limitations, When Ash is released from prison... He's just released lol. No car hijacking and running away with Eiji, they just let him off at his place and that's that lmaoo

A lot more stuff that was pretty much the same. Shorter was bald the entire time, but those scenes with him in disguise and helping Eiji are accurate (and Griff getting shot)

Likewise, the whole first attempt at killing Dino and the whole ""fish restaurant"" is cut. Max gets released from prison not long later and they kinda just meet up

We don't get Jessica or Michael. "We have to help Max's son" is still the motive to get Ash out, but we never see them and the rescue is all off stage. Same with Shorter's sister, she's used as blackmail but never seen. (There's no women in the cast)

Cape Cod is cut completely. We don't get Ash's dad or any of that plot. WE DO get the scene of Ash teaching Eiji to shoot and is ultimately the same, except it takes place in New York by the Hudson River. They just go straight from NYC to LA.

The plot is basically the same but condensed. The way Shorter held Eiji was ShorEiji propaganda I'm here for. HOWEVER after the initial scene in LA we don't get their perspective at all. We find out Shorter was injected with BF the same time Ash does.

No Ash in about suit :( tragic

They get a sit-down (not a full dinner)?with a lot of the lines, but it's heavily condensed and goes pretty quickly to the dungeon scene

The escape is very accurately depicted. Sing meeting Ash's gang to help. Ash going full Ranbo.

ASH PROTECTING EIJI!!! It's so 😭😭😭 You get the hug and all the gay ass lines I know you all know and Ash grabs his hand to help him up and it's yesss

Shorter's body scene is...very accurate :( Ash going ham with the machine gun, freaking out, sing showing up, Ash burning it all down (they use lights no pyrotechnics lol)

And then you get all da scenes with Eiji waking up Ash, freaking out the gang members, them eating together and Ash asking about his family, the pumpkin story etc. Dude like also Eiji's actor was pretty handsy and he's (IMO!) really blatantly flirty as hell in his potrayal.

The ~forever~ scene. Because no Cape Cod, it's the first time you hear the story about eight year old Ash. Yes you get the "forever" line from Eiji cut from the anime. I heard a lot of people crying

They really weren't concerned with looking Not Gay in that scene lol. Like Eiji hanging on Ash and rubbing on him all comfortingly. Ash laying on his lap and Eiji stroking his hair. Them falling asleep hanging onto each other. Ash waking up first and covering him with the blanket

You also get Ash and the fighting with Arthur's people. You get the Ash and Eiji fight with him running off. You get the library scene and them going to the harbor and the leopard story

Halloween party with Eiji chasing him with the pumpkin head. There's the scene where Ash asks about Eiji having a gif (Eiji really freaks the fuck out) and I WANT TO SAY there might have been a slight change to Ash's story but I might have misheard so I will be safe and keep 🤐🤐

The fight with Arthur is as accurate as can be wEXCEPT there's no Cain :( But you still get Sing and his and his gangs involvement is the same as well as Arthur playing dirty. Eiji shows up and distracts Ash but Ash still kills Arthur and screams at Eiji to go back to Japan

It ends with Ash passing out and being carried out on a stretcher with everyone being arrested and Eiji screaming for Ash. The very end is a news announcement that Ash died

Then there's curtain call

But interestingly AFTER THAT there's "after credits" scenes.

1. Max the reporter going to Dino (I forgot, Ash stealing and meeting him at the airport was kept)

and

2. Sing, Yut Lung, and Eiji with Eiji asking Yut Lung about where Ash was

Then you get a big TBD (there's a second part coming out later) with a spotlight on Ash shooting towards the audience and it all going dark.

[ap-trash-compactor]

I just want to say: if you feel your speech in particular is being threatened by what happened to Parler, you're a Nazi. Fuck you. If you feel there's something troubling about the way public discourse happens online and have reservations about the power that social media companies and web hosting services have over that discourse... I mean, fine, a gun can be pointed at an innocent man as easily as a guilty one. I get that, there's a real conversation to be had there. The tools that ban violent terrorist groups from conversing about their planned insurrection online can also be used to punish slash authors in China, "cancel culture" and online mobs are a real problem and I'll die on that hill, etc; double-edged swords abound. But if you personally feel specifically threatened and silenced by the vanishing of Parler? If it makes you feel like you don't have a forum to say specific things you want to be saying? If you feel like now you don't have a voice? If you think you've been gagged or muzzled or muted and aren't allowed to say anything at all? Well then... I regret to inform you that literally everyone on earth knows exactly what you wish you could be saying. And we all know you're not being stopped from saying you believe in God or that you value free enterprise or that you look forward to the peaceful transition of power and to solving your political disputes through the normal, peaceful processes of a stable, multi-cultural, multi-ethnic, multi-racial democracy. We all know what kind of very specific speech caused this mess. Everyone, including you, including every right-wing extremist playing coy on Twitter right now, knows exactly what kind of speech was and is at issue here. And for the sake of your own heart, I hope you get a wake up call and toss your racist, fascist, shit-garbage poison straight the fuck back to hell, where it came from. I pray god sends you the wisdom to trade your hatred for compassion. And if he tries and you reject the lesson and lean in to fascism and racism and the violent fever-dream of an authoritarian insurrection, if you keep company with madmen and conspiracy-mongers and pronounce yourself a Nazi for all the world to see, because that is what you are if you are on the side of the people who tried to murder American democracy last week, because that is what you are if you side with the people who stormed a house of government at the urging of a totalitarian monster in order to interrupt the legally prescribed steps of our electoral process... If you choose that, from the absolute bottom of my heart, I hope you end up in jail.

[kimium]

Natsu/Lucy from Fairy Tail?

(From this ask HERE.)

Thanks so much for the ask, Anon! I love Fairy Tail and I really love NaLu, so I'm in the Ship It Camp.

1. What made you ship it?

Honestly, the reason why I ship NaLu is because they are always going to be friends no matter what. I firmly believe friendship is a key element in any romantic relationship. A big gripe I have with many shonen series (I'm looking at you, Naruto and Bleach) is how they implement romance. No matter the relationship as the author you NEED to show the audience that 1) Both parties care for one another and 2) That BOTH parties are genuinely interested in one another.

Natsu and Lucy start as friends. They care and worry for the other. They also act like friends. They tease one another, are goofy and silly together, frustrate one another, argue and make up as friends do. Truly, even if I didn't ship NaLu I'd full heartedly agree that they are friends.

But the series goes out of its way to show that they're interested and attracted to the other. Of course, the series plays very coy with majority of its ships, Mashiro has gone out of his way to show scenes and extras hinting that Natsu and Lucy are a couple.

2. What are your favourite things about the ship?

My favourite thing about NaLu is how they can be silly and goofy one moment, caring and considerate, and sexy all at once. Mashiro's extra Twitter art is always a joy and while he's definitely drawn some Very Spicy/Suggestive NaLu art, he's also drawn silly art of those two doofuses wrestling and being utter idiots.

3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

My unpopular opinion regarding NaLu is: people don't want to ship it because they simply don't want to ship anything that's "straight".

Look, I get it. I'm bisexual and I want to see more canon LGTBQ+ ships in my anime. I want to see more series where the characters being "not straight" is not the singular driving force of the plot. (Not saying those stories aren't important; they are! I'm saying LGBTQ+ character's dilemma should NOT always be linked to their sexuality/gender identity.)

However, I'm not about to go out of my way to ignore the genuine, sweet, and endearing straight ships in a series. I'm done pretending that I don't like a straight ship when I think the couple are Adorable or have interesting chemistry/dynamics. Because I think shipping something shouldn't be boiled down to "is it gay or not". At its core shipping is simply someone saying "I like the dynamic/chemistry/interactions these characters have and I want to see more of that".

(This is just my opinion though. It's fine if you don't agree with me!)

[carewyncromwell]

*sings* Cinderella...you’re as lovely as your name, Cinderella~...

Okay, some quick notes before we start. Despite the beauty of their work, painters’ palettes were actually rather limited on pigments during the Renaissance, only having three pigments more than artists did during the Middle Ages. The Moly is a magical plant that appears in Homer’s The Odyssey. Hermes gives it to Odysseus as a charm to protect him from Circe’s spells. It’s been most commonly compared to the snowdrop flower by scholars. It also is referenced in the canon Potterverse as a powerful herb that can counter enchantments.

The Willow Song appears as a motif at the end of William Shakespeare’s Othello, though it was written at least thirty years earlier. In Othello, Desdemona sings a few stanzas of it in response to her husband’s growing distance and madness -- to the audience watching the play in Shakespeare’s day, which would already know the song, its inclusion foreshadows Othello and Desdemona’s tragic ending. “No One is Alone” is from Stephen Sondheim’s well-regarded musical Into the Woods, which features Cinderella as a semi-major character -- the song is actually even partially sung by Cinderella in the show!

I edited the art for this section, as you can tell. Badeea’s painting is a modified photograph of the Chateau de Chambord in France, overlaid on top of my own drawing. (Thanks, Lunapic!) This is also my very first time drawing Badeea!! GOD, is she pretty!! I think her eyes are my favorite of all the HPHM cast.

Previous part is here -- whole tag is here -- Katriona “KC” Cassiopeia belongs to @kc-needs-coffee -- and I hope you enjoy!

x~x~x~x

When Carewyn followed up with Andre the next morning, he was quite disappointed when he saw Carewyn wasn’t wearing the new shoes he’d made for her with her uniform. He honestly hadn’t even considered that they wouldn’t be comfortable for walking in -- and honestly, Carewyn could sort of understand why. Andre had never been able to leave the palace grounds, so there no doubt were a lot of practical things he’d just never considered...such as how very flashy royal fashion was, compared to that of the common man. He was pleased with the feedback Carewyn “passed along from her cousins” for him, though -- completely unaware of the fact that all three comments were really opinions that Carewyn herself had had about the dress.

“Hmm...that is a good point,” said Andre, his hand resting on his chin. “Red is a beautiful color...but a deep blue would not only bring out your eyes, but it would also perfectly contrast your ginger hair, since blue and orange are on opposite sides of the color wheel...”

His face burst into a bright white smile. “Your cousin Iris really has an eye for colors.”

Carewyn successfully fought back a groan, even as her eyes drifted up off toward the top corner of the room.

“...Well, she has taken up embroidery as a hobby. I suppose when one spends a lot of time doing samplers, one could develop an eye for colors.”

And also create a lot of initialed handkerchiefs to conveniently drop in front of noblemen so they pick it up and return it to you.

Andre, however, reacted with some interest. “Is that so? Hmm...well, maybe when I’m working on your new pair of shoes, I could invite her over for tea so she can give me her second opinion before I give them to you.”

Carewyn had never disliked a thought more in her life that Iris having a say in what she wore -- but knowing that she shouldn’t be the one to sabotage Iris, especially when her cousin would no doubt be able to do it well enough on her own, she put on her best smile.

“...I’m sure Iris would enjoy that very much.”

Sure enough, within a week, Iris had been invited to the palace for tea with the Prince. Carewyn could only imagine how thrilled Iris, her aunt Claire, and Charles were. As for Carewyn herself, she knew it was now time to do as Charles said and stay out of Iris’s way...and so when Iris arrived, she made sure to clean the rooms in her wing of the palace in a different order and not sing so that Andre wouldn’t be able to “check in” on her with Iris in tow. She didn’t think she could stand it if Iris got to look down at her polishing the palace floors.

Her lack of singing, however, did catch Badeea’s attention. When Carewyn collided with the court painter in the hallway, she expressed some concern.

“I missed your accompaniment, while I was painting,” she said. “Is everything all right?”

Carewyn felt guilty as she leaned her broom against the wall for a moment. “Oh...yes, Badeea, I’m fine. I merely...well, my cousin Iris is spending time with the Prince today, so I thought to...well, not draw focus.”

Badeea nodded in understanding. “Mm, yes...some things are meant to be background details, while others are meant to catch the eye straight away.”

Carewyn and Badeea caught the sound of Iris’s twittering, bird-like laughter echoing down the hall toward them. Not wanting to be seen when or if Iris and Andre came out into the hall themselves, Carewyn quickly picked up her broom and went around the corner -- Badeea adjusted her easel under her arm and followed.

“Say, Carewyn,” said the court painter thoughtfully, “why don’t you dress up in that nice yellow and green dress you have and come to the market with me?”

Carewyn blinked.

“I need to pick up some more carbon black and indigo for this painting I’m working on for Andre, but the man who sells those paints loves to price gauge. If you were dressed up all fancy and you slid in a reference to your family, though, he might be less likely to try to rip you off,” Badeea added with a tiny, coy smile.

Carewyn frowned, feeling a bit unsure. “I don’t know, Badeea -- I still have a lot of work to do...”

“You have the whole rest of the day to finish,” Badeea reminded her. “It would only take maybe an hour or two. And it would get you out of the palace while your cousin’s here.”

Carewyn considered the matter. Truthfully she’d been hoping to finish her work quickly so she could stow away back to the library and scan more troop deployment records...but she really did hate the thought of bumping into Andre and Iris, not just because of how much Iris would hate Carewyn getting any attention and therefore delight in tormenting her in front of the Prince in order to puff herself up, but because she didn’t want to provoke Charles’s ire unnecessarily.

“All right,” she said. “I’ll go change.”

Not long later, Carewyn had put on her mother’s old dress, pinned her hair up, and joined Badeea by the front gates, and the two headed into town on foot. The sky was still rather gray -- it had been raining and thundering for the last couple of days, and there was still a lot of mud in places. Carewyn was glad she was wearing her worn brown shoes under her gown rather than the pretty heels Andre had made for her -- particularly since nobody would likely be looking at her feet.

The shopkeeper in question was indeed a bit intimidated when Carewyn offhandedly referred to “her grandfather, Charles Cromwell” -- and soon enough, Badeea had been able to skip most of the haggling she would’ve normally had to make just to get her paints at a decent price. They left the shopkeeper’s stall, several jars of paint in hand.

As fate would have it, as they walked at the market, someone else was also shopping, and at the sight of the familiar dress and mane of ginger hair, he ran up to meet them.

“Carewyn!”

Carewyn and Badeea both looked up, to see Orion striding up to them. He once again wore his slightly-too-clean, but modest white shirt, olive breeches, and boots, and he was carried a basket full of henbane.

Carewyn’s red lips spread into a smile. “Orion...hello.”

Orion brought a hand up to his chest and offered her a short bow.

“It seems the stars favor us after all, my lady,” he said, the corners of his own lips kissed with traces of a wry smile.

Carewyn shot a quick glance at his basket and quirked an eyebrow.

“Purchasing some more incense?” she asked pointedly.

Orion’s black eyes sparkled. “I’m afraid we’ve already used up what I bought previously. Fortunately the gentleman from last time remembered my face and didn’t give me too much grief.”

“That’s fortunate.”

Carewyn glanced at Badeea to Orion and back.

“Orion, this is Badeea Ali -- she’s the Crown’s court painter. Badeea...this is Orion Freeman. He helped me retrieve my horse the other day.”

Badeea’s dark brown eyes were very bright. “Ah, yes -- KC had said that you were thrown off your horse. Thank you for helping Carewyn, sir,” she added to Orion.

“It was my pleasure,” said Orion. “What’s the subject of your next piece, if I may ask?”

“A foreboding sky and a distorted reflection,” Badeea replied.

Orion looked intrigued. “That would explain such dark shades. Who commissioned the piece?”

“The Prince,” said Badeea. “But his request was just of a view of the entire palace, from a distance -- I was simply inspired by the rainstorm that passed through a few days ago, and how the turrets of the palace looked reflected in the castle moat.” 

“I wonder how the castle of Royaume would see itself, if it had eyes,” said Orion levelly. “Would it see its beauty, or would it be the type to be critical of its flaws?”

“Hm...or would it see the beauty of its flaws?” asked Badeea.

“True,” granted Orion. “Flaws make us more human -- would that make something more beautiful, by serving as contrast to our strengths?”

“Flaws aren’t something you should simply have to accept,” said Carewyn demurely, her arms crossed. “One should strive to be better than one already is. Even if one is only human, that doesn’t mean they can’t work to be something better.”

Orion turned to her, interested. “And what would be better than being oneself, my lady?”

“Being a better version of oneself, of course,” Carewyn said, sounding matter-of-fact. “One can always be kinder, braver, stronger...more cunning, more passionate. One can always learn more, and do more, and be more.”

“Yes...but it seems like those could be crippling expectations to hold over yourself, to never be enough,” said Orion, and although his expression was very inscrutable, his lips twitched with something of a frown.

“Perfectionism is a disease that affects every artist sooner or later,” said Badeea sympathetically.

Her dark eyes flitted from Orion to Carewyn thoughtfully.

“I must be getting back to work on my painting...would you like to join us at the opposite bank, Mr. Freeman? I would be happy for some feedback on my work, before I present it to his Highness.”

Orion glanced at Carewyn for her approval -- she offered a small smile, and his lips turned up in a full smile of his own.

“I would be honored.”

So the three set about finding a less muddy spot by the castle moat, across from the palace. They found one right by a beautiful willow tree, where Carewyn very carefully lowered herself onto the grass. Badeea fetched her easel and chair, setting it up so that she had a good view of the castle. Orion looked over her incomplete work appreciatively.

“It looks like it could breathe, were it a living thing.”

“Thank you,” said Badeea. “Now then, I’ll need to concentrate while mapping out the sky, so no initiating conversation, please. These paints stay on fabric just as well as my canvas, so they won’t easily wash out. I would appreciate some accompaniment, though, Carewyn.”

Orion glanced at Carewyn curiously. Carewyn avoided his eye.

“Badeea, I don’t think -- ”

“Ah, ah,” said Badeea, holding up a gloved finger quickly, “no conversation. Accompaniment or nothing, please.”

She then set about mixing certain shades and color spotting sections of canvas.

Carewyn frowned. It was one thing to be singing while she was working herself, to pass the time, but Orion’s focus was still largely on her, and it felt weird. Still, she thought to herself, it wasn’t like she was bashful about singing in front of others, exactly -- she knew her voice was more than serviceable. There was really no harm in it. So, glancing up at the willow tree above her head, Carewyn rested her hands in the grass, leaned back, and sang.

“The poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree --

Sing willow, willow, willow...willow...

Her hand in her bosom, her head on her knee --

Oh willow, willow, willow...willow...

She sighed in her singing and made a great moan --

Sing willow, willow, willow...willow...

‘I’m dead to all pleasure -- my true love is gone --

Oh willow, willow, willow...shall be my garland...’”

Carewyn felt Orion’s dark eyes on her at the start. Before long, though, his eyes had fluttered closed, and he sat in perfect silence. As he listened, his shoulders loosened and his expression seemed to clear of all tension or pretense, like a child peacefully falling off to sleep. Badeea painted and shaded to the sound of Carewyn’s low, melancholy singing, adding white highlights to the dark gray and black shadows to create a cloudy sky with sunlight poking through.

When Carewyn was finished with the song, Orion slowly opened his eyes, meeting her gaze again at last. His eyes were oddly hesitant, almost shy.

“Y -- ”

He hesitated. Then, his black eyes softening handsomely, he closed his mouth, and it slowly spread into a smile gentler and warmer than Carewyn had ever seen before. He clearly approved.

Carewyn smiled in return and inclined her head in a silent “thank you.”

Carewyn sang some more songs until Badeea had finally finished and Orion and the two women had to part ways so that Badeea and Carewyn could pack up the easel and finished painting and bring them inside.

The following morning, Carewyn was surprised by KC pulling her aside to hand her a packet of what looked like handwritten sheet music.

“Your friend Orion stopped by a little while ago to give this to you,” she explained.

Carewyn was taken aback.

“I reckon he must’ve hopped over the wall,” said KC, unable to fight back a laugh. “I caught him strolling through the southwest gardens. I told him I’d bring it up to you, so that he wouldn’t get himself in trouble.”

Stunned, Carewyn looked down at the sheet music, shifting the pages so she could scan each line. Her blue eyes softened, growing deeper and darker with emotion, as she read the words and notes.

“...This...this is beautiful,” she whispered. She looked up at KC, unable to fully keep the awe from her face. “...You don’t think he wrote this?”

KC shook her head. “No, he said it was a song he learned when he was young, and that he tracked down the sheet music for you since he didn’t think he’d be able to properly sing it for you. I’ve never heard it either, though.”

Carewyn spent her meal times and about an hour before bed that night perusing the sheet music so she could learn the song. The following day, she felt confident enough to sing some of it while she started about cleaning the Queen’s Chambers.

“Mother isn’t here now...who knows what she’d say?

Nothing’s quite so clear now...feel you’ve lost your way?

You decide alone...but no one is alone.

You move just a finger, say the slightest word --

Something’s bound to linger...be heard...

No one acts alone...careful -- no one is alone...

People make mistakes -- fathers, mothers --

People make mistakes,

Holding to their own...thinking they’re alone...

Honor the mistakes everybody makes, one another’s terrible mistakes...

They could still be right -- they could still be good.

You decide what’s right -- you decide what’s good.

Just remember...”

“Carewyn!”

Carewyn stopped sweeping and looked up, to see Andre striding through the opened door of the Queen’s Chambers toward her.

“An -- your Highness,” Carewyn corrected herself very quickly, after noting who’d accompanied Andre.

Just behind him in the door frame was her dark-haired cousin Iris, dressed in her best rose velvet and her own almond-shaped blue eyes narrowed with loathing at Carewyn over Andre’s shoulder.

Andre, perfectly oblivious to the silent tension between the two cousins, gave a laugh.

“Oh, Carewyn, we’re not back to that again, are we? It’s ‘Andre,’ ” he said with an indulgent smile. “I haven’t heard that song before -- did you learn it recently?”

“Ah...yes,” said Carewyn. She could feel Iris’s fierce glare burning a hole in her face over Andre’s shoulder even without looking at either of them.

“It’s really quite lovely,” said Andre. “Please, do sing the rest of it when you’re able.”

“Of course, Prince Henri.”

Carewyn was absolutely not going to call Andre by his nickname in front of Iris -- she knew how Iris would shriek her head off about it to Charles.

Andre sighed and shook his head in something like tired amusement.

“I was hoping we’d catch you on your rounds,” he said conversationally. “I’m just about finished with your new shoes! Iris said your favorite color was ash gray -- I’ve never really worked with that color before, so it’ll be a bit of a challenge -- but I’m sure I’ll find a shade that might suit you...”

Ash gray? Running with the ‘Cinderwyn’ nickname, then, are we, Iris?

Carewyn forced a smile. “...Thank you. That’s...very kind.”

Feeling more uncomfortable by the minute, she quickly rushed over to pick up her full dust pan with her other hand.

“Forgive me, I really should go and empty this -- ”

At that exact moment, Iris had strode forward, bumping Carewyn’s shoulder in just such a way that the pan was knocked backward onto Carewyn, covering her, her orange and tan dress, and the floor with all of the dust, dirt, and grime she’d swept up over the last hour.

“Oh!” said Iris in feigned surprise. “I’m so sorry.”

Her gaze, however, was just as hard and unapologetic as it had been when she’d ripped the sleeve off Carewyn’s dress at home.

“Carewyn!” said Andre, concerned. “Are you all right?”

Carewyn coughed.

“...Yes, of course,” she said, her voice very hard and stoic in the back of her throat. “It was merely an accident.”

She shot Iris a cold look as she looked over her now thoroughly ruined uniform and the dust and dirt all around her feet.

“Please, go on ahead with Iris, your Highness. I’ll clean up this mess.”

Once Iris had successfully steered the reluctant-looking Andre out of the room, Carewyn closed the door, took off her dress, and finished cleaning the room in her undergarments, so as not to spread the dust and ash around any further. Then, very carefully, she darted across the hall from the Queen’s Chambers to Andre’s, so that she could fetch the high-necked, gold-embroidered dress made out of white linen and light blue velvet he’d recently finished for her from his walk-in closet. After all, she told herself, she needed something to wear while she was getting her uniform cleaned -- and well, at least Iris would be less likely to ruin this dress, since Andre had stitched it himself.

Holding her dusty, ashen dress in a folded pile against her chest, Carewyn headed downstairs toward the laundry. On her way through the entrance hall, though, KC -- who’d just come out of the library -- ran up to walk alongside her down the hall.

“Seems your friend is back.”

Carewyn’s messy ponytail flapped over her shoulder when she looked at her in surprise. “Orion?”

KC nodded, her lips curled up in a wry smile. “I thought I saw someone hopping over the wall through the library window, just now. Shall we go investigate?”

Carewyn bit her lip, looking down at the ruined uniform in her arms.

“Let me drop this off at the laundry first,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

Carewyn ran down the stairs and threw her uniform into one of the tubs to soak, before quickly doing her hair up in a simple, but slightly more presentable braided bun and hurrying back up to join KC. The two women then headed out to the gardens, only to hear something of a scuffle.

“A man with innocent intentions does not hop over castle walls,” said Bill’s voice, though it sounded much lower and harder than Carewyn was used to hearing.

“In this case, sir, I assure you, I do.”

“You will declare your true name and business at once, sir, or I shall see to it that you’re locked in irons and hauled before the King himself -- ”

“Bill!” cried Carewyn.

Bill looked up, startled. The ginger-haired castle guard had slammed Orion back-first against a tree, holding him up off the ground by his collar with one hand, but at the sight of Carewyn and KC running forward, the suspicion and righteous anger in his face dissipated instantly.

“It’s all right, Bill,” Carewyn reassured him. “He’s a friend.”

“Put him down,” said KC.

Bill looked from KC to Carewyn in confusion, before glancing at Orion warily, but he nonetheless did as they said. Once he’d lowered Orion to the ground and let go of his shirt, the dark-haired man calmly adjusted his collar and picked up a satchel that must’ve come off in the struggle off the ground.

“Thank you, Carewyn...Lady Katriona,” he said pleasantly, as if he had not just been in a loose choke hold.

KC grimaced. “Orion, I’ve saved your butt twice now -- we’ve more than gotten to the point of you calling me KC.”

Orion smiled wryly. “I’m glad of it.”

Carewyn, however, still looked a bit harried. “Orion, what were you thinking? Hopping the wall...it’s no wonder Bill thought you were up to no good!”

“Well, the gate was locked, and no one was there to greet me,” said Orion airily.

“Well, of course the palace of Royaume has very strong security,” Carewyn said exasperatedly, “the royal family lives here.”

“I must wonder how the royal family ever receives visitors, then.”

“They don’t,” said Bill rather coolly. “They invite them, and very rarely, at that. And they clearly didn’t invite you to trespass on the grounds.”

Orion was unfazed. “Well, fortunately, I wasn’t looking for such an invitation, to begin with. I merely wanted to give this to Carewyn, as a gift for Madam Ali.”

He reached into his satchel and pulled out a jar of unusually shiny silvery-white paint. Bill, KC and Carewyn’s eyes all were very wide as Orion handed the jar to Carewyn.

“I asked a few people where best to locate materials for paints,” he explained. “One man pointed me to a flower that grows at the border called the Moly. He made this paint himself. I don’t think any colors  like this are made and sold at the market, so I thought I would bring along one of his jars for Madam Ali, so she might use it for her next project.”

Carewyn’s light blue eyes were very bright and touched as she looked up at Orion.

“Orion...it’s wonderful,” she said, her soft voice incredibly warm. “Badeea will love it.”

“You said he used the Moly?” asked KC, as she took the jar from Carewyn and looked at it. “Maybe Badeea could mix up some more paint of her own, then.”

Bill glanced at Orion with a raised eyebrow. “Or the Crown could simply buy it from the vendor who sold you that paint.”

Carewyn noticed a strange, almost skittish glint flicker through Orion’s eye.

“...I’m afraid that jar was a favor, not a purchase,” he said softly.

“I think Badeea would be fine with making her own, Bill,” Carewyn said firmly. “The Crown wouldn’t want to set aside extra money for materials anyway. It’d be a lot cheaper to make a paint like that in house than to buy it from someone else.”

Despite his frown, Bill nonetheless sighed and nodded. “...True. Charlie’s needed a new set of scratch awls for ages.”

Orion looked pleased. “I’m glad I could be of assistance.”

“Perhaps the next time you want to see Carewyn, you might figure out a way to do it that doesn’t require you scaling walls like a prowler,” said KC amusedly.

Carewyn shot KC a slightly reproachful look. Orion’s muted smile rather resembled that of a satisfied house cat.

“I’d be happy to arrange more regular meetings outside the palace, if Lady Cromwell would be open to it,” he said, his black eyes sparkling as he glanced at Carewyn.

Carewyn raised her eyebrows coolly at him. “Once again, Mr. Freeman, you seem to have an unusual amount of freedom, if you’re able to consider allocating time just to meet me.”

Her lips then spread in a wry smile.

“Still...I can hardly sit by and let you get arrested for trespassing on my account. I have some time available late tomorrow morning, before noon. I could meet you by the gate then.”

Orion grinned. “I’ll look forward to it, my lady.”

[tarnishedhalo]

A n d r e w R i l e y

Spell On You || Accepting

A: Who are their exes? Do they still keep in touch?

“I don’t remember the name of three girls in high school, okay but that was like a long time ago, okay? The cheerleader was Kari Morrison and I haven’t seen her since my sister walked in on us. There was Jay and yeah, she’s family and I see her at least once a day. And then the Jersey Devil, which thank fuck for restraining orders and the best lawyers money can buy, no I don’t have to deal with her.”

N: Are they clumsy and/or prone to accidents?

“....’Zat supposed to be a joke? Cause let me tell ya, Grey, it fuckin’ ain’t funny. I may not be as fast as I used t’ be, may not be quote-end quote qualified to be a PJ any more. But that don’t mean I can’t kick you’re ass from here t’ Niagara Falls, pal. Everything works like it should and I’m still a better man than any four you can point out in this place.”

D: What time does their day usual start?

“0-400 like clockwork. Gives me enough room grind some coffee, go for my morning PT, come home and shower, and then make breakfast for my sister before she comes home. We usually kick around for an hour or so before she goes to bed and I go to work.  My typical work day starts when I roll into the precinct at 0-800 and start reviewing any complaints, notes. Like victim, location of the crime, that kind of thing. One of the best things about it is you get to stick with your case start to finish, and you help people get some kind of justice and closure. All that and it’s usually home by six, to have dinner with my sister and send her off to work.”

R: When’s the last time they had a birthday party? “I think it was 20 years ago. Back yard bash while we were stationed in Hawai’i. All my locals plus some of the younger guys from the base. Good music, good food, hell of a lotta booze. Good times, good times.”

E: Are they the happiest they’ve ever been?   “I’m youngish, good looking, employed, rich, intelligent with amazing hair, a gorgeous car, and tailored suits. How could I not be? I know you wanna be me, or with me, and that’s just fine. I won’t stop you from trying.”

W: Would they be star-struck if they met a celebrity?

“Not hardly. In the circles I move in with my family concerns, it’s bound to happen more often than not. And I don’t think there’s any one person that I would bust a nut over meeting, it’s not my style.”

R: When’s the last time they had a birthday party? “Didn’t I just...oh. Okay, okay. I guess you’re playing coy, then and that’s cool. I was born in Manhattan, Fourth of April, Nineteen-Eighty Four. Makes me an Aries with a Taurus moon and Gemini rising. My sister’s really into this star stuff and could better explain it to you. If you ask her real nice she might even make you a chart. She’s super into math and art so ya know. It’ll keep her busy for hours.”

I: In general, are they organized or messy?

“Can’t abide a mess. Everything has to be stowed away, in it’s proper place. Dad never tolerated anything less than ship-shape while we were growing up, and once we left home I went straight into the Air Force. I can strip a bed and have it made in two minutes flat, you could bounce a bowling ball off it. Floors clean enough to eat off of, but don’t, that’s gross. Stuff like that. And I can walk into my place and know the second there’s one thing out of place.”

L: How often do they post on their social media accounts? “I only keep up with twitter and Instagram any more, but really I only post like five or six things a day, and really less than fifteen on a particularly interesting day. Mostly things I’ve cooked, or weird shit I see while at work. Sometimes I’ll post a random-ass tweet, something I thought of and only probably makes sense to me but you know, whatever.”

E: Are they the happiest they’ve ever been?

“This again? I already told you...and I’m not gonna repeat myself.”

Y: What movie could they watch over and over again? “Tombstone. Don’t even gotta think about that. We ~Beth and I~ used to watch it every time I came home from a deployment, then again every eve of me leaving. There is just so much to love about it; the perfection and dialogue of Val Kilmer’s portrayal of Doc Holliday is one of the finest film adaptations that I have ever seen, the undeniable cool of the character in stark contrast of the stony outer shell of Kurt Russell’s Wyatt Earp. And if I had a second but very close runner up? Boondock Saints. And I think that’s pretty self explanatory if you know me At. All. Some people even say I kinda look a little bit like Connor McManus.”

[incarnateirony]

Terms and Conditioning and Meanings

Okay, so it’s something a lot of people heard me bang on about several times over the last few years, but recently I found a thread (x) by yet another lit professor -- this one in another fandom.

I’m sure some people will choose to reactively and malignly pick at parts of what they say without reading the heart of their body of work, in a blazing display of self-blind irony, but well-- I went off on my usual tear I go on ‘round these parts and unsurprisingly they went through and liked every single one while QTing other Typical Fandom Asshats to shoot them down, so let’s roll here.

I’ll start with the TLDR edition but then break down the actual content behind a cut -- because this? This is something this fandom DESPERATELY NEEDS TO UNDERSTAND THE DIFFERENCES OF, and how they DO and DON’T relate.

CODING = CONSCIOUS CHOICE OF CONSTRUCTION BY AUTHOR SUBTEXT = THEMATIC RESONANCE THROUGH MOST OF OR THE ENTIRE WORK THAT EMBOLDENS THE TALE INTERPRETATION = LITERALLY WHATEVER YOU WANT BUT STRONGER IF YOU KNOW WHAT THE OTHER 2 ARE AND WHERE THEY ARE. THANKS KIDS DEATH OF THE AUTHOR = NOT AN EXCUSE FOR EIGHTH-ASSED READINGS CANON = WHAT EXISTS WITHIN A WORK, OR AN AGREED UPON BODY OF ACCEPTED WORKS (episodes, books, etc not part of the ecclesiastical body) NO, it is not a MAGIC WORD for “NOW THEY KISSED” and there are MANY FORMS OF WHAT IS CANON WITHIN AN ACCEPTED BODY OF WORK.  QUEERBAIT = VERY FEW OF THESE THINGS AND YET CAN BE ALL OF THESE THINGS AND THIS IS THE MOST BUSTED WORD Y’ALL HAVE FUCKING RUINED.

(Edit: I saw someone reblog this with “really aggressive in an offputting way” before a tag of “but I agree” so I’ma put this out here: Yeah. It fucking is. Because this fandom is fucking exhausting. And I am tired. Of having to fucking repeat things. That are literal common sense. In a fandom that insists on flushing common sense. Of otherwise intelligent people sending themselves into destructive spirals. Of even friends losing friends to people sliding off into bitter pits these problems lead to. So if you’re someone that favors common sense, maybe you actually should feel this frustration in your soul. The lit folks reblogging this with commentary so far seem to.)

To quote the linked OP and give credit where credit is due for resparking this conversation in my mind and realizing I haven’t said this for a long time and new followers may not know, even if this is familiar to like 90% of people who follow me -- but I feel they touched aptly on parts I haven’t even really done more than brush over.

queer-coding is quite sinister in a lot of ways (though can be employed subversively to great effect) but also very interesting! studies have shown that children who like or identify with queer-coded villains are more likely to be lgbt, even if they don't realise what's going on.

during the hays era it was mostly a way to show that a villain was bad (because gay = evil), but it could also be a way for closeted queer creators to sneak lgbt representation into their work, which is why so many queer-coded villains are so damn *likeable*.

what's also interesting is that lgbt creators would sometimes explicitly *straight-code* their villains - gaston from disney's beauty and the beast is a great example of this. highly recommend that you read up on the story of his creation!

all of which is to say: queer-coding has a meaning, it's not the same as queer-*baiting*, and it DEFINITELY isn't the same as "I'm gonna read this character as gay because I wanna imagine him as gay" - the name for that is fanon, and some trek fans

there are lots of academic works on the history of queer-coding if you want to spend an afternoon down a google scholar rabbit hole! just, you know. terms have meanings.

that's the thing. coding literally is intentional. what you're talking about is an alternate or resistant reading, or a world-context-centred critical approach.

you're right that it's got nothing to do with representation, but unlike semiotics, which is text-centred but may or may not rely on reading into intentional authorial choices, queer-coding refers specifically to an authorial choice. it's a defined term.

I didn't just take AP and honours english. I *taught* AP and honours english. for y e a r s.

--by @jaythenerdkid who I just accidentally found the tumblr of by preparing to make a twitter link but I checked and it’s the same person.

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

Okay so let’s pick through this a little bit before people start spinning this up in their heads.

TO START: QUEER CODING

I’ve seen people say “This character has villain attributes or dark attributes ergo he is queer coded.” That is absolutely not the way to apply this history, this works in reverse. As handled here, villains were either malignly codified to make queer characters evil and/or were then used as a slip-in of representation. A villain being a villain is not in fact itself an actual queer coding point. A dark history is not itself a queer coding point. Addiction stories are not themselves a queer coding point. In fact, trying to apply itself in this order is like BLAZINGLY homophobic and gross as hell and if you’re doing this, you should stop now. Yes, I’ve seen this.

I fucking promise you Gaston wasn’t consciously “queer coded” in being a villain, being a villain does not give him a Magic Gay Point.

Are we good on that point? Have we figured out the direction these Magic Gay Points fly in and don’t? Cool. If the author consciously added elements that will harmonize with a straight audience as queer to make them seem bad, that’s malignant queer coding; if an author consciously added elements that will harmonize with a queer audience to make them somehow familiar or likable, that is subversive queer coding. 

An example of subversive queer coding: In the Legend of Korra, the creators had limitations on what the network would allow them to do. Later, they confirmed their intent was a WLW couple being portrayed at the end, but it hovers in the area of a hand hold that people can unfortunately choose to negotiate away into bestest friends despite all the other story flags for them along the way.

People have/can/will call queerbait about this. In this case, this is not queerbait. This is attempted representation to bypass restrictions and is not malign, but are authors doing their best to give their queer audience something, anything, in the case of it. Yes, it was post-air acknowledgment but it was what they were goddamn trying to give us gays out here. It’s not hiding their gays on the creator’s part -- it’s hiding their gays on the network’s part -- WHICH IS A STEP A LOT OF PEOPLE GET VERY CONFUSED ABOUT.

Hell, just because *one* show or property on a specific channel even allows X Amount Of Gay in it doesn’t even mean they’ll allow their other properties that amount of gay every time, and can and WILL step in and block creators. It happens even on premium networks like HBO or Starz. Because they have their ideas of what the demographic they dump a bunch of marketing money into is okay with, half-educated and half massive fiery balls of projection from whatever old white dude is reviewing the data. So no, never just bank on “well X network made the Gay Bar exactly This Tall To Ride here so all their other shows can be Exactly This Gay.” -- you do that, you’re gonna set yourself up for a FUCKTON of disappointment. 

Hell, LGBT aren’t even treated equally to other LGBT. Bi men have like 1/3 the representation of bi women because media is held in a largely male gaze corporately and well, bi women are sexy to straight guys, give them some of that lesbian action. But oh, nono, don’t put the bi dudes near their network, no homo. If you drape a rainbow boa on this lamp post though we’ll let you have a gay guy run around that is there to make other characters uncomfortable as a stereotype, that’s fine. LITERALLY do *NOT* simply assume for *ANY REASON* that because one kind of LGBT person cleared on one show that others will too, there’s so many ways that drops through the floor.

That small aside about network bullshittery handled, let’s get back to the terms.

Negative queer coding I can think of with things like, I dunno. Jafar. Honestly very few LGBT people will actively associate with most of these attributes because a great wealth of them are attributes in the eyes of straight creators villainizing gay people, rather than gay people making gay people that just happen to be villains, and this distinction *DOES MATTER.* The long, snaky body -- the coy, venomous tone, embellished gestures; I mean sure, some people are like that, and that’s fine, you be you, but it’s a stereotype most try to shed rather than play into. It’s not the sum of who we are but put into the wrong creator’s hands, they *make* that the perceivable sum of who we are, + villainy.

But queer coding CAN be suggestively used to paint positive role models in situations they can’t necessarily be written as Overtly Gay, and the list of those reasons is unfortunately Very Long. But they are always things that are active choice, and your interpretation of what is Active Choice is not the same as Proven Active Choice.

For example: “The wallpaper was green and blue in this scene so Dean is thinking of Castiel even if he isn’t saying it.” Okay. We’re gonna go to Subtext and Interpretation later, but summarily: no. Hell, maybe it even is, but that’s a huge vault you actually have to exorbitantly prove and you can’t just say “but movie lighting theory” because I promise Dean = Green Cas = Blue isn’t general lighting theory.

An alternate example: “Bobo Berens, the first LGBT author on Supernatural, affirmed that Castiel was written in place of Colette, Cain’s wife, in Dean’s mirrored life; this is recurring symbolism and reflects often in Beren’s work, wherein his first episode showrunner Carver opted them to act as jilted lovers, and made a vast wash of content involving bold partnership ideals such as ‘at the altar’, ‘secret admirer’, and more that mysteriously hit the cutting room floor, but resonates very loudly through several directly connected seasons and all future work by Berens such as classic romantic partnership gifts and ideas [mixtape, heart connect, etc].”

This is simultaneously coding and subtext. We could frankly make 200 page dissertations about this chain of text -- and most of us already have -- that doesn’t require loudly extrapolating interpretation of external elements or single unrelated lines. 

“But subtext is just QUEERBAIT. It’s JUST SUBTEXT, it’s NOT CANON.”

Okay honey let me stop you right there. This is like the most common bad hot take in this fucking fandom. Like every part of it is bad but everybody kind of strings it together into one big Ball of Bad.

Subtext is, summarily, a hidden body of text that is felt in the work. Beyond Who You Want To Be Gay, subtext is a lot of things. Subtext is the value of humanity above all powers and principalities, in Supernatural. And there’s all kinds of other subtext. Whenever you see someone blink and have black eyes in SPN without them saying “I’m a demon” and you know they’re a demon, that’s... kind of subtext too. I mean, we know textually demons have black eyes, but nothing ever said only demons have black eyes. So what if I wanted to say it’s the ghost of big bird? It’s MY INTERPRETATION and MY INTERPRETATION IS VALID TOO.

Shit you can even cobble together half assed unrelated extrapolations--some demons have yellow eyes and Jack had yellow eyes so he wasn’t a demon so clearly not all black eyes are demons and uh... the angel blade kills lots of things, that black eyed thing still wasn’t a demon.

See how easy it is to absolutely BULLSHIT around it with decontextualized BULLSHIT? It almost passes at a glance until held up to the smallest bit of scrutiny and following episodes.

Okay, so look, “It’s my interpretation, and my interpretation is valid” is only as far as it holds up soundly to *you.* As long as it is truly valid to *you.* And that doesn’t mean big brave faces you put on For The Twitter Stan Wars because you don’t want to lose digital clout when the newest episode falls through and blows your entire house of cards out of the water because you weren’t reading the actual subtext being hewn into the story by the authors -- or even forming a resilient resistant read of your own subtext that can hold -- but once that interpretation leaves your mouth to try to bounce off of other people’s viewpoints, you’re now indirectly challenging their viewpoint with theirs. If you stay in your cabal where you think the spirit of big bird has black eyes, and never subtweet or @ or whatever anybody else about this Hot Take, that’s fine, just don’t be surprised when you’re left defending that to whatever followers you pulled into the Big Bird Cabal. 

Or you all sit in angry silence with each other and then start helicopter swinging at the writers for ruining The Spirit Of Big Bird that was never fucking there. Because you’re trying to apply patchy, unstable, and generally very piss poorly founded readings to a still released work. 

So THAT lead in shoved off to the side about interpretation and keeping your interpretation to yourself if you don’t want to be challenged by far more solid interpretations, Because that’s how content discussion works,

SUBTEXT IS OFTEN A FORMULATIVE PART OF CANON, ESPECIALLY IF IT IS CODED, WHETHER WE ARE TALKING QUEER CODING OR ANY OTHER KIND OF CODING.

Subtext is a thematic undercurrent. Subtext is the unspoken soul of a piece, what lies in the blank space between the lines, but not just whatever you take the lines to be. If you sit down and write a lit paper, you’re gonna have to explain where you pulled your subtext out of. 

You can either go the “Death of the Author” route where you summarily erase any commentary ever made and build your own, but you still need to be able to read the sum of the text and present what it all is. And most importantly you can’t just present what it’s not. If your entire reading of a work is trying to explain away common sense bullshit and it ends up reading like All Work No Play Makes Johnny Dull Boy because you had to build 82 nonlinear explanations around what you don’t want, and those all lead to nowhere, that professor is going to flunk the shit out of you. And if you use Death of an Author DEFINITELY don’t simultaneously try to appeal to authority with other quotes convenient to you.

Not Wanting something to Be So and going completely over the river and through the woods in completely disjointed intentionally maladapted readings of refusal doesn’t mean you’ve found subtext, it means you’ve chosen to make a reading -- an interpretation -- that is not really thematically sound with the body of work but for whatever reason, you’ve chosen to make that the meaning it has to *you.* And that’s fine. Unless you’re trying to impress a professor. Or jousting your opinion off of somebody else that isn’t doing cartwheels around the content to avoid the parts they don’t like (and get mad about it later.)

Removing all genuine thematic subtext and disregarding it from any part of the canon discussion of a piece is, however, devastating and essentially rips out the foundation of a piece. This has become all the more common as junk TV gets junkier and continues to appeal to the lowest common denominator that need to be reminded that 2+2=4 every three episodes before they accept that 2+2=4 in their respective canon universe, because otherwise they’ll claim it’s just subtext or someone else’s opinion that it equals 4.

And that’s not what these words mean and I am left eternally climbing up walls, because in this fandom, like... subtext, interpretation, coding, queerbait have all become one amorphous blob that just gets hurled around like four stuck together balls of Gak at a grade school party and just seeing where they splatter.

It is entirely possible for content to be subtextual and canon, if it is thematically resonant with the piece and a loud and fundamental part of its storytelling that it can not operate without acknowledging. Discussion of queer content aside, there’s a lot of shit this applies to. There’s a certain sense of good faith most authors put in their readers/viewers/whatever that people will have an fundamental understanding of the spirit of a work they’re conveying. This good faith amount varies depending on their projected demographic, but let me assure you, if your respective creator essentially has the characters stop and do “today I learned” narratives, or interruption explanation inserts over everything, there’s one of two reasons: 1. It’s a literal parody/comedy 2. It’s either geared for kids or they think you’re all fucking idiots.

As I don’t tend to watch parody, comedy, or kid shows, I tend to favor shows that don’t feel the need to handhold me through every instance of the show. Because I am not nor do I appreciate being treated like an idiot.

Subtext is a valuable part of canon as long as we are talking by virtue of “coding” not “random unfounded interpretation.”

Now, to the topic of queer coding, is it fundamentally gratifying to our primitive lizard brain survival instinct if we see characters kiss or whatever your personal landmark for gratification is? I mean, sure. Does the romance leading up to the kiss absolutely not matter at all until the kiss, or was that early state of subtext, dance, and non-consummation itself a valid romantic journey? 

Because honestly this is something I feel current LGBT dialogue is missing. We’re so wounded from being caught in the subtext veil that we want confirmation, but everybody wants to skip the journey to the sweet stuff. I’m not saying every story needs to be a years long slow burn, but y’all. You know how we talk about het romance being boring as fuck because it’s like “dude/chick look at each other and they fuck and now they’re insufferable, hahahah is this what het culture is like is this what they call romance what kind of standards--”? Yeah, we’re rapidly snowplowing towards that.

I’m also not saying quick confirmation is bad either. There’s shows and stories where even pre-confirmed LGBT couples are GREAT to see, just existing in the population. Not every story needs to be THE grand romance, or THE great coming out adventure, some can have already had their adventures just like the Totally Het Neighbors Next Door and that’s... fine. That’s great, even. 

But we are approaching Absolute Bottom Barrel Trash Content at terminal velocity, mostly just being exploited and monetized by corporations that are virtue signaling us to give at best sub-par turnout. The amount of currently airing shows with quality queer content can probably be counted on your two hands.QED there’s hundreds of shows, thousands depending on which networks you’re counting in your numbers. Off the top of my head, Legends of Tomorrow has a fabulously queer cast that Just Is without being defined only by having a partner nor being a rainbow lamp with a sticky note of plot directions. 

But we are also signaling creators that it’s no longer safe *to* give us gradual, slow burns, or genuine romance either. And we’re ALSO signaling creators -- INCLUDING QUEER CREATORS -- that it is no longer safe to make subtextual or coded content.

“Well good!” you probably say.

NO, THIS IS BAD, THIS IS REALLY, REALLY BAD.

Because while you may live in a fantasy universe where X Network had Y show exactly This Gay To Ride, it’s in blatant disregard of inconsistent landmarks and limbo sticks different shows, creators, and products have to go through, and some people in some shows are trying REALLY REALLY HARD to give you resonant queer content and you’re just shitting all over them and yelling that it’s queerbait.

I mean, queerbait is the idea that someone is giving queer content without intent to follow through and generally to exploit a queer audience. The problem is, all queerbait accusations are launched in default bad faith. Some of that bad faith is earned. Some of it is not. Sometimes there’s a lesbian with a network executive breathing down her neck that just wants to let her girls be together so she has them hold hands, even if she knows The Straights will talk it away as best friends, no matter how many canonically romantic storylines they’ve wedged into the subtext through loudly recognizable tropes.

Queerbait is a VERY DANGEROUS CARD and MUST BE USED WITH EXTREME CAUTION. Because depending on the longevity of what you’re crowing about, without understanding of what’s going on beyond the production veil, you can very easily even get creatives and creators hard shut down on a network level for wanting to protect the product. I’m sure you think “make it gay!” is the one answer to that, but no, it isn’t always, not depending on what the old white guy network exec I mentioned a while ago has in his papers about what or who he interprets pulls his income and what they like via demographics or inconsistent marketing test groups.

That’s not to say never call out queerbait, but the internet desperately needs to be more conscious about when and where they fling it around. What if Korra fans started horrifically screeching about queerbait and blasting it all over the internet and @’ing production or even network people and making devoted articles to make it a shitshow that even hit GA impact zones? Do you really think Nickelodeon would look at their demographic paperwork and throw it in the air and go “Oh! Well we make it gay then.”

Or do you think they’d have left a hard feedback note to further divide those characters with a strong warning about limits and restrictions.

We are slowly moving out of the area of things like queer coded villains and have more migrated into an area of subversive queer coding, but a great deal of subversive queer coding has people lose their SHIT because Some Idiot On The Internet With A Shitty Take And Quarter Assed Interpretation told them “it’s just subtext so it’s not valid until they kiss”, setting out this roving goalpost everybody keeps running after like a goddamn donkey chasing a carrot on a stick, and in some cases completely unable to be reached, despite the LITERAL BEST INTENTION of the authors. 

I’ve heard “well if they can’t Bring It All The Way, they shouldn’t at all.” What the FUCK? What kind of UNBEARABLY STRAIGHT WASHED WORLD do you want to live in? What kind of world do you think we’re living in right now? I regret to inform you, Trump got elected to office somehow and reversed a lot of LGBT protections somehow and it’s not just “because Russia,” it’s because there’s still a SHITTON of assholes out there that make corporations that bankroll TV SHITTONS of money and whether we like it or not, TV is a BUSINESS and we’re all DOLLAR SIGNS.

Stripping subversive queer coding, especially from the hands of queer authors, sets us back into a weird offset of primitive ages and extremized content, where the latter becomes poorly packaged lesbians dropped as a marketing plan to upsell Trendy New Teen Show without daring to rattle the middle aged demographic of a split political demographic in another show. No. Absolutely fucking not. Use some responsibility and apply some critical thinking before yelling queerbait and figure out where a problem is in any given situation, that’s all I fucking ask.

Hell for all you know those queer creators could be pitching it again and again behind the scenes, or baited on that side with maybes, or being stalled out by being told to wait for test marketing groups, and generally tugged around on their own leash where corporate is summarily watching the feedback to the blatant but subtextual and coded queer content.

--------

Now, ALL OF THIS becomes a fucking mess in discussion when people don’t box off these definitions and issues.

If people don’t realize the value of subtext to canon, 

And people don’t understand the difference between coding and interpretation,

And people confuse queerbait with any of this,

You end up with some giant VAT of literally EVERYBODY sounding like dipshits because Anti A told Shipper B who loves queer author C and relationship D that It’s Just Subtext, and then Shipper B turns around and yells ITS NOT CANON YOU’RE IDIOTS FOR LOVING IT in their pained bitterness, but then Anti A brings Anti B back and they decide they optically prefer relationship Z that has no actual coding or subtext, but they’ve strapped together their own interpretation, but they confuse interpretation and subtext, and break out all interpretations are equal even if they are not in the body of the actual canon work, but now everybody is yelling it’s not canon because nobody even fucking knows what any of these words mean anymore, and then Shippers A-Z turn around and start yelling queerbait at a gay author just trying to write his little gay heart out-- you see the problem, right?

On the other hand, there’s fandoms where people confuse these same points and think their uncorroborated interpretation is subtext simply because they chose to interpret it that way, and with enough voices drawn into it in the vat of “all interpretations are equal”, turn around and yell queerbait at authors who are scratching their heads going “the fuck are you on about”

-------

Other bad takes: The opinions of actors really don’t fucking matter. I don’t care if they’re pro-relationship or anti-relationship or just pro/anti any idea other than a relationship. This is like taking the opinion of some dude who played Hamlet an eternity ago for Shakespeare while Shakespeare was still alive and writing about what Shakespeare’s writing meant. His opinion may be meaningful to him, but it is his own interpretation. If Shakespeare wrote Hamlet The Sequel the actor could turn out entirely wrong about what he was babbling about. 

Actors are just interpreting the art to screen like you are. Acting is an interpretive art. They’re just. Interpreting. Just like you. So stop whipping out statements of actors against each other. You might as well be quoting jared-uwu-cest.tumblr dot com as an authority for your bad fucking take. Stop it. If actors on the same set have conflicting opinions and are just talking about their opinion, their opinion doesn’t mean shit more than any other fan of the source content, unless they are hand delivering statements, cited, from specific authors they’ve communicated with about the work they’re interpreting from (coming to mind, the time Jensen Ackles went to showrunner Jeremy Carver confused about the romance with Amara feeling right, only to tell us that Jeremy Carver told us that Amara wasn’t his romance, she was his kryptonite). 

Now if you’re choosing death of the author NONE of this is relevant, obviously, because you shouldn’t be citing ANY of this, because then you’re just playing to discussion points for convenience. But if you are looking for actual intent, the actor’s interpretation is only as valid as any other dedicated interpretation, albeit possibly more or less sounded in awareness of the text, but is otherwise only as valuable for how direct of a voice box they are being for what authors said about specific scenes. Hell, most things are filmed out of order and many actors don’t watch the whole piece. It already consumes their work life, it won’t consume their home life, no matter how much they love it, they haven’t reviewed the full body of the piece externally as a finished product, just processed emotions out of sequence.

THERE WAS A NEW AVENGER THAT DIDNT EVEN REALIZE HE WAS ACTING A NEW AVENGER UNTIL HE TOOK HIS KIDS TO THE MOVIES AND WAS LIKE “OH SHIT I’M AN AVENGER.” Stop BANKING on actor statements.

This also gets more complicated in group writing projects such as TV shows with multiple authors. And MORE complicated explaining that complication to fandom when they get positive statements from the creator of a show who is the *only* author and then turn around and yell “WHY DIDN’T [OTHER FANDOM]” do that when like, IDK, 6/40 authors have over the course of however long it’s been written on, most have been radio silent and one other had a different opinion and then you just expect some group borg rising of everybody who’s ever written on the show to come and hand deliver you individual hand-fed statements about what they meant.

This entire thing also foregoes the import of directors and how they work with their set dressers as part of the creative process; they’re what manifest the text into a visual medium of the story, which may or may not be identical to the author’s intent. Again, to hearken back to Supernatural as my root fandom here, it’s been mentioned Sgriccia knew how to work with everyone and get what they were meaning to convey with how long he worked on set, so generally, authors and Sgriccia cooperated really well in a full art. Whereas that nightmare of an episode Don’t Go In The Woods was directed by a VFX guy as his first directing experience and we could see he barely knew how to work with actors much less the spirit of the text; he just had great understanding of environment. 

These things, these opinions, these takes also matter. Because TV is a different form. I generally don’t see people arguing Pride & Prejudice on twitter, it’s usually TV/movies. Lit theory is incredibly valid for understanding the pace and flow of a body of work but you also have to understand what authors are deeply plugged into that, what directors are deeply plugged in, who’s an experimental folly they’ll patch up the work of afterward, it’s not the same as just reading a novel by one author or, at most, a few co authors in immediate harmony.

Like I don’t know if people think I did my Crazy Pagan Magic to come up with the season 14 ending like I had a pages-long rant reel of direct quotes and shots that literally predicted that Jack was going to lose his soul, become faux-god, and Dean was going to be given an ultimatum of shooting him, probably after killing Mary, because getting the yellow eyed thing was the point right--but that the true scarlet letterman wasn’t their lost child, but the absent father. The Great Father who left all questions--the god of control. But dad told you to put a bullet in me, and you didn’t.

Like, anyone remember me spouting literally all of these things across different posts? It’s not magic. So while Christians in fandom are turning themselves into pretzels making shitbrained theories trying to explain why it Wasn’t Really Chuck Or Chuck Isn’t Really God, I’ve got a few hundred pages of thesises here talking about this being exactly where they were going because of SUBTEXT. Because it’s PART OF THE CANON AND BUILDING THE FUNDAMENTAL STORY. 

If it comes to a textual head like Chuck, great. But people have to recognize whatever landmark they set for what they consider a textual head is entirely subject to the creators or, worse, a network. The same way in season 11 they got told they couldn’t kill God, here we go on take 2, maybe the network changed it’s mind, we’ll find out. 

These things all interplay VERY IMPORTANTLY with each other and also, this issue goes WELL BEYOND Supernatural fandom. At some point in history a bunch of people in multiple fandoms started slinging these words around without understanding them and bounced them off of more people that don’t understand them and it turns into a goddamn hot mess because nobody’s using words like they mean anymore, just vaguely beating each over the head with it, and it’s driving me i n s a n e. Hell, y’all are undermining YOURSELVES half the time by the way people have taught you to misuse words.

ALSO WRT “CANON”

Most of the above covers what canon is within the way it’s abused in fandom, but I’ve seen some people take the idea of it being accepted into a body of work by the authors as meaning like, every reading of the material needs to be acknowledged by the authors. I already detailed what it means. It’s absolutely not that. 100%. I don’t give a shit how you choose to interpret that. Because there is literally no way on planet earth an author has made a full statement confirming every detail about every part of their book and that goalpost doesn’t just magically manifest when we’re talking about, say, gay shit. Or powers you don’t like. If it’s thematically there, it’s thematically there, you can’t hackjob it out of canon just because This Specific Idea doesn’t have a Canon For Dummies statement attached to it, or worse, one attached to it specifically to your liking, since people like interpreting away ones based on their preferences rather than reason.

Similarly it doesn’t mean there’s a magic goalpost of a vagueblogged percentage of people that must accept the content for it to be canon. Hell, like half the fandom still tricked themselves into thinking there was a reaper retcon in season 9 (x) that NEVER FUCKING EXISTED IN ANY DAMN CAPACITY. Large groups of people choosing to miss the point doesn’t mean the canon didn’t hold the point, simply that they chose to draw another point out of it. Generally, in a still releasing work, that also leaves them disappointed and confused later (such as when someone claimed they retconned the nonexistent reaper retcon, because I heard you like retcons.)

There is no magic percent, no magic statement. These things are nice, but they aren’t what makes canon. Canon is the actual accepted body of work such as seasons, episodes, books, movies, or whatever else as part of the universe. (Eg: Supernatural’s novels are officially noncanonical and not part of discussion of canon content. They are not accepted into canon. That’s what this means.)

Also if you’re talking about canon quantify it. You can be as tired as you want about bad rep, but bad rep quality has nothing to do with the canon source content. You can be as tired about lowkey gayness as you want but are you saying the canon material isn’t romantic at all, or are you saying the characters aren’t consummated yet. If the canon material isn’t canonically romantic why are you yelling queerbait; or acknowledge the value of queer unconsummated canon romances even if you aspire for more, but don’t bounce that goalpost around for convenience, fuck sake. 

DID U KNOW that things can be CANONICALLY ROMANTIC without being CANONICALLY CONSUMMATED? Or that even a queer author’s idea of what reads as consummated canon may not be the same as yours? Did you know that a MLM LGBT author in his 40s may have very different ideas of how to express an MLM romance than a bunch of WLW LGBT women of any age, because there’s intersectionality at play? If you don’t want bi men determining how lesbians should be represented we need to apply that all around, kids.

-----

So sure, your interpretation can be valid, for you. But once you joust others, or pin your interpretation on the show without careful exploration of the actual intentful themes, you’re gonna probably be disappointed as it releases and uproots your ideas. Now the question is if you are willing to hold mature intelligent discourse about other people’s potential interpretations and readings, or if you’re going to grapple onto your old, broken interpretation like Gollum with the Ring because it’s your precious and you’ll let it send you crawling into a moldy cave hissing at anyone happily walking by.

Is Your Interpretation worth your anger when it falls through Do you even WANT to like the show? Do you literally prefer staying angry over reviewing your take compared to people who are still happy with it? Why AREN’T you willing to figure out where you went left of canon?

And furthermore, is your anger and broken interpretation/expectations worth holding onto a damn ring/show that clearly isn’t what you thought it was, or can you toss your fiery stan rage into Mordor before you turn into a twitter goblin and find a place you can interpret differently that makes you happy?

---

Lesson: Stop being fandom goblins

Also @tinkdw 

[littlemisssquiggles]

I JUST NOTICE OZPIN(OZMA) + SALEM = GREEN AND RED OSCAR + RUBY = GREEN AND RED AND NOW CLOVER + QROW = GREEN AND RED, THEIR EYES, I JUST NOTICE AND OMG

Hey Lethie X3 Well for me, I’ve always noticed the correlation between the Fairy-tale pair (Ozma and Salem) and the Rosegardening Rosebuds (Ruby and Oscar) based on their shared red and green complementary colour scheme. Qrow and Clover are a first. However now that you’ve pointed out, I’m seeing it.

Still not fully convinced that these two will be a couple or anything like that as yet. I mean, I wouldn’t mind it if the show took it in that direction. However for now, this squiggle meister has mainly been enjoying the wholesome comradery between Qrow and Clover. I think it’s nice that Qrow was able to find himself a new friend in arms in Atlas he canbond with and talk to. Their friendship seems like a cool one thus far but I can’thelp but feel like there may be a catch to why Qrow is being paired up with Clover.

Y’know apart from the obvious fact that Clover is literally Qrow’s polar opposite in terms of semblance and demeanour. One thing that I’ve been hoping to see is for Clover to question Qrow on whether or not he’s ever had someone believe in him before just so their conversation can prompt Qrow potentially discussing his past with Oz with Clover.

As far as the audience knows, Qrow has known Oz from since he was a teenager at 17 years old attending Beacon Academy for the first time with his sister Raven. Oz has known Qrow from since he was a lad and watched him grow into an adult. Even helped him to define himself in some way. Am I the only one that just wants Qrow to talk about Oz in a more…positive light that isn’t remotely hypocritical?

Again, I get that he’s resentful of Oz right now but…I’m sorry but it kind of irks me a little that since Argus Qrow has been walking around as if his entire relationship with Oz has been nothing but a lie…and I guess that’sprobably what the intention is but nonetheless, it still doesn’t bug me anyless, y’know?

“…Meeting you was the worst luck of my life…”

I get that Qrow is still upset with Oz. I get that he’s still very much hurt about Oz and what he learnt of him back in Argus. I understand all of that yet I still can’thelp but want to pinch Qrow. This only puts Oz’s statement to Yang back inV6CH2 more into context:

“…But does one lapse in judgement truly negate all of his good? Don’t weall have regrets?”

I dunno. It kind of bums me out how quickly Qrow tossed out his entire friendship with Oz over his secrets about Salem. I know some folks are probably going to tell me that Oz lied big time and Qrow has every right to be upset with him and feel the way he feels, which I’m not denouncing by the way.

It’s just that…it’s NOT like Qrow was only a tool for Oz or anything like that. That wasn’t their relationship. Qrow was one of Ozpin’s longstanding allies. One of the members of his Inner Circle of closest most trusted companions. For Pete’s sake Qrow, OZ WAS YOUR FRIEND M’DUDE! We all saw how devastated he looked after what you said to him back in V6CH4!

You don’t get that kind of expression from someone who didn’t love you or at least cared deeply about you in some shape or form. I guess what I’m mostly trying to get at here is that I want Qrow to talk about Oz and not in a way that erases the good part of their bond.

I still haven’t forgotten how Qrow deadass told Ruby with a straight face that she’s no different than Oz just because she chose to put her trust in people she deemed trustworthy when Qrow himself is a primary exemplar of Oz’s trust and has been for many years!

I want Qrow to be egged into recalling one of the happiest moments of his life only for it to be one that just so happened to be because of Oz, thus prompting Qrow to think of Oz and remember that…it wasn’t ALL bad between them, y’know what I’m saying?

Don’t get me wrong, Clover Ebi is great and like I said, I dig his growing rapportwith Qrow. However at the time same time, I can’t help but feel like Clover is just a temporary replacement for Oz since he and Qrow had their beef and now Qrow needs a new best friend and someone to talk to outside of the kiddies. He’s kind of like the rebound Ozpin in a way.

Not trying to imply that as an insult to Clover’s character—it’s just that right now, he’s more or less fulfilling that role for Qrow where I knew Oz used to be once upon a time. But for the most part, I’m hoping that Clover plays counsellor to Qrow and helps him through his misgivings over his semblance which are tied into his kerbed feelings toward Oz. Clover strikes me as the kind of down to earth guy to be that type of good buddy. I think Qrow can learn a thing or two from Clover and in turn, I think Clover can really help Qrow since, after all thatwe saw him go through emotionally last season (which actually began as early as V4), I think Qrow could really use a friend right now.

Not so sure about Clover becoming a “boyfriend” for Qrow but I will say this though, Qrow looking coy after Clover complimented him was actually really cute. Especially Clover’s soft smile at him afterwards. This “bromance” is just too pure. 

Oh and by the way, apart from Clover, did you also notice that Qrow and Oz share the same red and green complementary colour scheme too? Just saying.

All that being said, Clover and Qrow as a ship is admittedly cute. However I’m not a fan of the Fair Game ship name. @_ebea on Twitter once suggested Fortune Cookies for the Qrow x Clover ship and I’m actually more in favour of that name. Sounds more adorable to me. But that’s just my opinion.

Just to differentiate on my end as I always do, I’ll refer to Qrow x Clover’s bromantic FRIEND-ship as Fortune Cookies while keeping the FNDM’s pick of Fair Game when referring to their romantic ship.

For now, this squiggle meister is very contented with Fortune Cookies and the direction the PLOT seems to be taking them slowly, particularly on Qrow’s part. I just hope that at some point this bond aids in his own path towards self-healing while additionally helping  Qrow remember his ole friend from Oz as well. 

~LittleMissSquiggles (2019)

[ukulelewrites]

thank u, next

A/N: am i whipped for one (1) kangaroo leader???????? maybe lol but i’m on break rn for cranberry season and i whipped up this fic after listening to this song on repeat for a kajibillion hours. i’m thinking of making this a two part series? or should i keep the ending as is? or do y’all want more of this dynamic???? lmk what yall think!!! Also if anyone can tell what the song skz is singing hmu

Pairing: Stray Kids’ Chan x Reader

Genre: Angst/Fluff/Pop Star!Reader x Rock Star!Chan/Exes AU

Word Count: 5.4k 

Thought I’d end up with Han / But he wasn’t a match,

Wrote some songs about Hyunjin / Now I listen and laugh,

These words flowed through the car stereo late at night as Chan found himself kissing some random girl he met at the nightclub. She kept her hands clutching tightly to his leather jacket, and he smirked as she let out another sigh.

Even almost got married / And for Chan I’m so thankful,

Wish I could say “thank you” to Felix / Cause he was an angel,

Chan froze once he heard his name coming from the stereo. “What’s wrong, babe?” the girl, who’s name had slipped his mind, asked.

He dropped his shocked expression and slipped back into his normal cocky facade. “Nothing, don’t worry ‘bout it,” he reassured her, leaning down to ghost his lips against hers, Now, where were we?”

One taught me love / One taught me regret

One taught me pain / Now, I just can’t forget

You had not expected such an explosive reaction to your newest single, but here you were, scrolling down your Twitter feed to the endless tweets gushing over “thank u, next.”

“Darling! You’ve done it once again!” your manager exclaimed as she burst into your dressing room, “I’m getting calls after calls asking you to come onto talk shows, radio shows, award shows, the whole shebang!”

“I’m glad to see you’re so excited about this, Melissa,” you teased, “I haven’t seen you this happy since you’ve met Chris Evans.”

“Now, as much as I love that man, I love you much more, my little songbird,” she sang as she booped your nose. “Did you hear what they’re calling this? ‘Pop Princess turned Pop Queen!’ God how I love the press! They’re eating this whole thing up!”

“I guess they didn’t expect me to release such an honest song,” you replied, still scrolling through your feed.

“Of course they didn’t! Who knew innocent ‘Somni’ would pull a Taylor Swift and drop a song about her exes? And name them too? No other artist has done that before!”

“I’m pretty sure I wrote that song about my self-growth, Melissa, not just to highlight I dated those guys.”

“Of course, darling. Now, why don’t we get you all dolled up for the red carpet? It’s your first public appearance as the ‘new’ you!” She let out a squeal before running out to grab your stylist and make-up artist.

You giggled at her newfound excitement and looked back down at your phone only to freeze at the headline glaring back you: CHAN CONQUESTS AGAIN? You swallowed down the uneasiness that crept upon you and placed your phone face down. “Get a grip, Y/N. You’re no longer ‘little Ms. Pop Princess,’” you said to yourself, training your eyes firmly on your reflection in the mirror, “and some boy isn’t going to make you revert to that.”

“Now, Somni, how does it feel to be all grown up now?” Amber asked. You laughed at her formality, considering the two of you were close friends, and pretended to ponder upon the answer.

“Honestly, I have no clue what you’re talking about,” you answered, giggling a bit at the eye roll she gives you and the disappointed looks you get from the audience members.

“I can’t believe you’re playing coy with me right now!” she jokingly complained, “I expect answers during my interviews, Y/N, answers!” The audience ooh’d when she used your real name.

“Sorry, Amber, I just don’t get your question! I’ve been a grown up since I turned 18, and that was a while ago.”

“Nuh uh! Somni was not grown up two years ago when she released ‘Wonderland.” Iconic album, but definitely the cookie cutter pop album we’d expected it to be. But this? ‘thank u, next’ completely defies what we expected coming from you! What caused the shift?”

You could practically feel the audience members leaning forward with bated breath. Ever since the song dropped a month ago, the internet had been ablazed with speculation over your music’s sudden shift.

“Well, I guess I was done writing a narrative where I was always the person getting saved,” you said, referring to the long list of love songs you had written in the past, “and I wanted to be the person that saved myself. ‘Monochrome’ is definitely going to show more of that self-love theme that I teased in ‘thank u, next,’ and I’m so happy that everyone has been so supportive of the change!” You gestured towards the audience members, earning a cheer from them, and even acknowledged the camera, knowing many of your fans were also watching at home.

“Amazing. I’m so proud of you for taking that next step in your career,” Amber gushed, earning an ‘awww’ from the audience, “Now, we can’t just ignore what everyone here actually wants to know about.”

You looked at her and quirked a brow. “And what is that?”

“The boys of course! You can’t just name drop them without spilling some tea, sis,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“Stop,” you whined, “why would you even bring them up?” You exaggerated bashfulness by covering your face with your hands.

“C’mon, you name dropped a few big names in that song. Han? The biggest name in the up and coming rap scene right now! Hyunjin? He’s the highest paid male model in the world! Felix? Before his retreatment from the scene, he was the most well-known actor of his time!”

“Well, they helped build me into the person I am today. I didn’t think anything more of it,” you replied diplomatically.

“And we cannot leave out the biggest bombshell from that song: Chan, the lead guitarist of SKZ, which is, by the way to anyone watching who have been living under a rock for the past year, the biggest rock band on the scene right now! Who knew you were into the bad boy type, Somni? And you almost married the guy too!”

You let out an airy chuckle, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “Yeah, we were young and in love. A risky combination if you ask me,” you joked, eliciting laughter from your audience.

“C’mon, Somni, you gotta give us something!” Amber pleaded.

“You know I don’t kiss and tell,” you jested, “especially not to the thousands of people who watch your show!” The audience whined at your statement, and you only flashed them an apologetic smile.

“But seriously, how did the bright-eyed, princess of the pop world end up almost married to the biggest playboy rock star on the scene right now?” Amber goaded.

“We were different at the time, Ambs. Life just happened to end up this way,” you replied cryptically. She tsked at your unwillingness to spill everything, but she retreated from the topic.

“Anyways, focusing back on you, I heard you’ll be performing at the American Music Awards, and you’re premiering your new single’s music video during it? That’s huge!”

“Yeah, ‘Without Me’ is getting a music video. Stan Twitter, this one’s for y’all!” you exclaimed, shooting finger guns towards the camera.

“And you’re album is dropping tonight right?”

“Exactly at midnight! I hope everyone can listen to it. I know it’s my favorite and most intimate album to date, and I hope everyone enjoys it to!”

“Well that looks like all the time we have with Somni tonight, folks. Check out her new album, ‘Monochrome,’ dropping tonight at midnight!”

You were back in your New York City penthouse, finally away from the hustle and bustle that came with album promotions. A small sigh escapes past your lips as you submerged yourself into the warm, bubbly bath water. You rested your head against the tub and looked up at the ceiling, finding yourself slipping away into your memories.

“What do you think about this chord, songbird?” Chan asked, strumming a jumbled mess of notes on his guitar. He got a scrunched up nose and a ball of sheet music thrown at his face as an answer. “Just teasing you,” he pouted, scooting over on the couch to look over your shoulder.

“I know you are, but I’m trying to focus right now,” you grumbled, pushing your glasses back up your nose and scrunching your eyebrows together. Your pencil was still flying across the page, putting down notes and rests and lyrics.

“Why don’t you take a break,” he asked sweetly, “focus on,” he leaned his head down to nip at the sensitive skin on your neck, “something else?” You stilled your hand for a split second, and Chan thought he had finally broken through, but you just shrugged him off and went straight back to work.

“This is my first album after debuting, Chan. I can’t just put it off. I need to come back with good music,” you sighed. He looked on worriedly as you ran your fingers through your hair once again and let out another huff of air.

“Songbird.” His hands found themselves on your waist, and he hoisted you onto his lap. You didn’t struggle and leaned back into his arms. “Sometimes you just,” he pressed feather-light kisses against your neck after each word, “need a little distraction,” once he found your sweet spot, you knew you were gone, “or some inspiration,” you let out a soft groan when he lightly bit down on your flesh, “like how well I’m going to-”

BRRRING! BBBRRRIING!

“Sorry, babe,” you mumbled, leaning down to scoop your phone off the floor. “Let me take this, and I promise you we’ll get back to where we left off.” Chan just waved you off, but you had missed how his eyes trailed after your retreating frame lovingly. If only you had seen that.

You knew you were over your past relationships. Each one ended, relatively resolved, and tucked away in your memory box. You and Han ended things after six months due to busy schedules. Hyunjin was dropped after 4 months when you realized you needed someone to fulfill a deeper, emotional need. Felix disappeared from the scene a year into your relationship, and you just assumed it was over when he stopped replying to your texts. And Chan — your eyebrows furrowed at the thought of him.

You could never really pinpoint where things went wrong with him. It was a flurry of you falling too fast for someone who never really reciprocated back and diving right in when he proposed to you 2 years into the relationship. A wry smile graced your lips when you recalled the realization that had dawned on you two months into the engagement. “He never said ‘I love you’ sober,” you mused as you continued to soak in the bath. You knew that he was tucked in a box just like the other boys, but a small voice in the back of your head continued to pull at the ribbon that kept his box shut.

“Somni, you are absolutely stunning tonight!” the interviewer gushed as she gestured towards your fitted maroon suit jacket and tight cream pants outfit.

“Why thank you so much!” you beamed.

“I must say, this is probably a huge night for you,” she said, “How does it feel to be one of the main focuses of the night?”

“Well, I don’t know about ‘main focuses,’ but I am so excited to perform tonight and reveal the music video for the new single, ‘Without You!’”

“Speaking of ‘Without You,’ it is easily my favorite song from ‘Monochrome!’”

“Stop! You’re just being polite,” you teased.

“No! I seriously love how raw you sounded in the song. I honestly felt the pain in your voice,” she said. “Plus, it was quite fun trying to figure out which of the exes this one was about.” She gave you an over exaggerated wink, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the situation.

“Well, I hope you don’t expect me to tell you who,” you retorted, “It was lovely talking to you!”

After you bid her goodbye, you continued walking down the red carpet, stopping every now and then to pose for the camera and wave towards your fans. You also stopped every now and then to talk to some other artists and congratulate them for their nominations. In the midst of your conversation with Jaime, a deafening cheer from the hoard of fangirls came crashing into your ears. You looked behind you and saw SKZ getting out of their limo and beginning to walk down the red carpet. It was a blatant understatement to say Chan looked good. Even after accepting your failed relationship as it is, you were still capable of addressing that the guy looked fine. You dared not to stare for too long, since there were cameras everywhere focused on you, but you took a mental snapshot of Chan with his, newly dyed, blond hair swept up to reveal his forehead, adorned with a leather jacket thrown over a, teasingly, tight white button up and torn black skinnies, and the trademark devil may care attitude that seemed to wash off of him in waves.  A flash of light followed by a click pulled you out of your trance, and you refocused your attention back on Jaime. “Where did we leave off?” you asked sweetly, planting back on your trademarked smile.

The stage lights were pulsing, and the roar of the crowd became almost deafening around you. It had been a long night of dancing, singing along to the performers on stage, and afflicting yourself to pain whenever you had to trek onto the stage in your heels to present or accept an award. The camera seemed to love you as it continued to film you and Jaime as the two of you bounced up and down, both of you ditching your heels at that point, to the artists on stage and lip-syncing like your lives depended on it. However, you noticed the camera lingering on you longer than usual, and you sent the cameraman a playful quirk of the eyebrow. That was when Jaime pointed towards the main stage.

“SKZ is about to perform,” she explained, keeping a hand on your arm comfortingly.

“Awesome! I heard they’re performing a never heard before single,” you said back, trying to keep your expression upbeat for the camera.

The brief break ended, and all cameras trained their focus onto the side stage where the host stood. “Revealing a brand new single for the first time, here are the heartthrobs of SKZ with ‘Moving Along!’” they exclaimed.

Chan began to strum a steady rhythm, and a lump formed in your throat when you noticed the songbird sticker still stuck to the bright, red body of his guitar. The song was definitely more chill compared to their older, “edgier” releases, but you liked the lazy feel of the bass, the driving force of the rhythmic guitar, and the lax attitude the guys took on as they sang into the mics.

Been thinking bout you lots lately / Have you been feeling empty beds just like me?

I’ve been thinking bout you lots, lately / Or are you moving along?

You couldn’t help but chant along to the chorus, ignoring the weird feeling you got from the lyrics.

Is it wrong if I ask you to come over? / Is it wrong if I told you that I love ya?

Even though I never do it when I’m sober / Is it wrong? So wrong

That lyric struck a chord in you, but you continued to plaster on your smile and dance along to the song, keeping up a show for the camera. “If I wrote a break-up song, I guess he can too,” you mused.

The neon lights flashed to the bass that vibrated throughout the entire nightclub. You found yourself retreated to one of the side booths, scrolling on your phone to look at all the feedback you got back for the “Without Me” music video. It was amusing to see the internet freak out over, but you couldn’t help but feel disappointed at the lack of commentary on the music video’s aesthetic, which you had painstakingly curated, instead the buzz seemed to be around who the music video alluded to. Was the song about Chan? Definitely. You wrote it shortly after your split with him, and it sat in your drafts for a good year before your management pulled it out, dusted it off, and polished it up to be the second single for “Monochrome.” Was the purpose of the song to demonize Chan? Hell no. It was just to help you heal, help you get over such a harsh fall from cloud 9. You disappeared from the music scene for a good year to recuperate because being with him was like a firework. It built up and heated up and kept you enthralled, but it ended so quickly and left messes behind. It just happened to be that you were the mess that was left behind.

“Where were you?” you asked, too tired to put any emotion in your words anymore.

Chan looked at your sitting frame on the couch in shock. Well, as much shock as a drunk man could muster. “What’re you doing still up?” he slurred.

“Where. Were. You?”

“Out with the guys. Celebrating the new album’s release, the usual.” Chan’s brows furrowed. The tone of your voice took a complete 180 from what he was used to. “What’s wrong, songbird?” He walked up to you to try and get some shred of the usual warmth you emitted, but he was abruptly stopped when you stood up and held up a hand in between the two of you.

“You don’t get to call me that anymore.” You had no clue where your iciness came from, but it wasn’t hard to assume it accumulated over the past two months of your engagement. The past two months where you were planning the wedding alone in your apartment’s kitchen with the company of a glass of wine while Chan is out every night getting shit-faced with who knows who?

“Hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me,” he pleaded, trailing behind you to the shared bedroom. You replied with silence, keeping your pace steady and your face still. You knew if you spoke, your voice would’ve wavered. “Y/N?”

God, he sounded so broken and confused. It took your all not to spin around and wrap your arms around him like everything was okay. But it had been months of his lack of attention, affection (unless he was absolutely desperate), and affirmation. Your revelation had been when you were sitting on the living room floor, writing a song about him as a surprise present for him during the wedding. However, in your fit of brainstorming, it came to your realization he hasn’t told you he loved you since the engagement. He hasn’t sat down with you and helped with the planning. He hasn’t been home most nights to hold you in his arms at night. The sudden distant behaviour led you to thinking: maybe he didn’t want this at all. Maybe he didn’t want you at all.

You were in the bedroom now, and you grabbed the giant duffel bag you had packed earlier and spun around to leave as quickly as you could.

“You’re leaving me?” he asked, “Why are you leaving?” You pushed past him without a word, but he grabbed your arm and spun you around to face him. “Y/N, talk to me.”

“Let me go, Chan.” God, you were too tired to drag this out any longer.

“Not until you tell me what the hell is going on!” Chan spat back.

“I’m leaving you! That’s what’s ‘going on!’ I’m finally doing what’s right for me and leaving your sorry ass behind!” you screamed.

“What the hell did I do?” He was getting angrier now. “I just got home, and you’re already being a pissy little bitch!”

Your glare hardened at his last word. “Really now? You’re calling me a ‘bitch?’ Maybe I have a reason to be one,” you got right up into his face, “considering you’ve been an awful fiance for the past two months! You haven’t helped with any of the planning! You have barely been home at all lately! And we haven’t had a proper conversation in ages! I’m so tired of being strung along and left out to dry!”

“Maybe if you weren’t nagging me all the damn time, I’d stay home! Don’t you know how annoying it gets when I get home from the studio and the first thing I hear is your fucking voice telling me to pick out a goddamn flower arrangement?” he seethed, “If I knew you were this annoying, I would’ve never proposed.”

You had kept your indignant stare trained on his face the entire time, but at that last sentence you tore your gaze away and pulled your arm out of his grasp. “Would’ve never proposed, huh?” you parroted humorlessly, trying to smother down the lump forming in your throat and the tears swelling in your eyes. “Yeah, I wish you never did too.” You turned away to hide the tears slowly streaming down your cheeks and just started walking away.

“Wait, Y/N, songbird, I didn’t mean that,” Chan said, following after you, “You know that I love you.”

You spun around quickly and sent him a spurned look. “Do I? When was the last time you told me you loved me? When was the last time you held me? When was the last time you helped me? You don’t love me. You probably,” you choked up, “never did.”

“No, Y/N, I swear, I swear to God, I love you. I promise you I’ll be better,” he begged.

“Can you tell me that tomorrow when you’re sober?” you asked wryly. Chan just looked at you pleadingly, practically begging you to stay. “I’m done being another body that keeps you warm at night. Goodbye, Chan.” And just like that, you were out of his life.

You blinked back the tears that crept up and began putting back on your “Somni” mask, smiling brightly and cheerfully at everyone. Jaime and some of your other artist friends were lost to the beat, dancing away the night in the middle of the room. You were a solid two steps away from joining them before halting when you made eye contact with Chan. He was still dressed in that ridiculously fitted white button-up, and his hair had become messier, with strands falling down to grace his face. He was dancing with some girl; his hands on her waist as she kept her back firmly pressed against his chest, but his eyes were trained on you. If it was past-you in present-you’s position, you would’ve probably ran out of the room trying not to let tears spring from your eyes. But this is present-you, the one who spent a year healing and coming out of the wreckage stronger. You gave him a brief smile before turning away and walking towards the exit. “I think I’m done for the night,” you thought to yourself, “That’s enough excitement for a day.”

Chan woke up again to a cold bed. He groggily turned onto his side and glared at the bright red numbers that told him he was, once again, late to a meeting with management. “Great,” he said, falling back onto his back, “I couldn’t get any last night. I ran into my ex. And now I’m fucking late to a meeting.” The day hasn’t even started yet, and it’s already the worst day of his life. He grumbled and groaned some more before getting out of bed and stumbling to the drawer to find a clean shirt and pair of jeans. “When the fuck were you so soft, Chan?” he asked himself while digging around for socks. He would’ve usually never be affected like shit like this, but ever since you released that song he hasn’t been able to think of anyone but you. Every single girl he tried to bring back to his place ended in absolutely nothing because you keep plaguing his mind. Every single radio station he goes to ends up playing your song. And now his band’s highest selling single is the song he wrote about you. It was like he could never escape, and he was so fucking tired of it.

“Glad you could join us, Chan,” his manager said sarcastically.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “long night.” His bandmates looked at him sympathetically; almost everyone could tell Somni’s latest album was affecting him more than he’d want to let on.

“Anyways, we’ve generated such a good buzz around the upcoming album with all this ‘ex-lovers’ gossip, the company thought it’d be good to accept an offer for a special interview on Amber’s talk show,” the manager started cautiously.

“What kind of interview?” Chan asked.

“With you and Somni.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Chan seethed. “We’re ancient history! The public wouldn’t have cared this much if she didn’t release that stupid song and name-drop me.”

“But they care now, and bottom line, everyone knows you wrote ‘Moving Along’ about her. Do this interview and you boys are projected to break the Top 10 of album sales for 2018.”

“So we’re exploiting me for album sales?” Chan sneered.

“You signed up for this life, rock star. Don’t tell me you’re backing down because of some girl? Thought the two of you were ancient history?”

Chan studied his manager hard before gruffly agreeing to the interview, “If it gets you off my case.”

“So this isn’t awkward at all right?” Amber asked midway through the interview. You politely waved off her worry even though you could practically cut the tension between you and Chan with a knife. “Awesome,” she exclaimed, “Now let’s get to the juicy stuff. How did the two of you meet? Considering both of you are so freaking famous, how did no one know about this relationship???”

“Simple,” Chan plastered on his “rock star” persona quickly, leaning into the leather couch and easily placing his arm behind your head, “We figured out how to avoid the press after all of our years in the spotlight. Plus, it wasn’t hard for me to approach her; she was this bright-eyed, newly debuted pop princess completely left alone at an after party bar. I figured I might as well grace her with my company and from there it’s history.”

If he can put on his persona, I can too.

“If I remember correctly, I told you to buzz off when you offered to buy me a drink,” you said with a quirked eyebrow. The audience ooh’d at that, completely drinking up your newfound HBIC attitude.

“Looks like our pop princess is gone,” Amber joked, riling up the audience a bit more.

“But then you took a complete 180 when you ran into me tipsy into the alleyway outside the club,” Chan retorted, a playful smirk gracing his features.

Before you could stop yourself, you softly smiled at the memory and agreed. Chan was 100% taken aback by your change in demeanor. The queen-esque Somni facade was replaced by the Y/N he remembered waking up to every morning. If he wasn’t on camera right now, he would’ve definitely melted.

The moment was interrupted by Amber. “Wait, what happened? Y’all can’t leave us hanging like that!”

The soft expression left your face as quickly as it came and you settled back into your camera-self. “You know I don’t kiss and tell, Ambs,” you teased, “And I hope Chan here knows better and doesn’t either!” The audience laughed at your jest.

“Fine, but you can’t spend this entire time not giving us anything!”

“I can’t believe you told them the kitten story!” Chan exclaimed as the two of you lounged in the break room.

“What? They wanted some sort of tea, so I gave them an adorable story about the time you tried to ‘save’ a ‘stray,’ and it turned out you catnapped our neighbour’s cat!” You broke out into giggles at the memory of it all. All the tension between the two of you eased away somehow throughout the interview, and here you were now, sitting on the break room couch waiting for your ride while sharing memories with your ex-fiance.

“Okay, how was I supposed to know Benjamin already had an owner? He didn’t have a collar on him!”

“You can’t call the kitten Benjamin, Chan. It’s name was Spot, and we ran into it every day when Mr. Jameson went outside to collect the mail with the kitten trailing behind him.”

“Fine! I admit I just wanted a pet,” he said with a pout. Laughter fills the air, and it seemed like the clock had been turned back, like it was you and Chan on your couch at 3am sharing stories with each other. A comfortable silence falls upon the two of you.

“Do you miss this sometimes?” he asked out of the blue. You were taken aback by how serious he sounded.

“Why do you ask?��

“I don’t know. Maybe I miss this.” He said it so nonchalantly that you almost missed it.

“Why would you?” you teased, trying to lighten up the mood.

“Because I love you.”

You didn’t know how to process that confession. You didn’t know how to respond to that confession. Hell, you didn’t even know he had it in him to drop that confession. You awkwardly chuckled, trying to diffuse the sudden surge of emotions running in your mind, “C’mon, you never really loved me, Chan. It’s all the media stuff getting to your head.” You tried waving it off while also trying to ward off the sudden heat rising to your cheeks.

“No, Y/N, I do love you. I loved you then, and I was an asshat for never telling you. But I was an idiot then who had no idea what love was. I hopped from girl to girl every single night until I met you. I dropped on one knee so fast and you said yes, and that’s when I realized that I was in no way shape or form good enough for you, and instead of facing it and trying to become better for you, I ran away and drove away the best goddamn thing that has ever happened to me. And I’m so fucking sorry for what my drunkass self said to you that night because it never said what I really wanted to say, ‘Stay. I’m sorry. I love you. Forgive me.’’

The air was getting heavier and you found it getting difficult to breath.

“But I swear, Y/N, on my heart, on my guitar, on my band, I love you, and I’m so sorry for not being the man you deserved.”

And that was when the dam opened. You just started bawling. It was like every single ounce of pain and sadness you bottled up after that break up, every ounce you poured into your music so you could pretend to be strong and move on, came rushing out. In your tears, you didn’t notice when Chan wrapped his arms around you. Taken over by muscle memory, you burrowed your face into his chest and wrapped your arms around his torso. He ran his fingers through your hair and rubbed your back reassuringly.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m sorry for always making you cry, but I’ll be here for you now. I swear.”

Even then, with him comforting you and speaking so genuinely to you, you didn’t know what to make of the situation. Should you shut this down now or risk crushing your heart again just to give him a second chance? Chan took notice of your sudden stillness.

“Y/N? You alright?” He pulled himself away from you to study your face. “Y/N?”

“Chan,” you whispered, “I-” With a surge of stupid impulse, you grabbed Chan by the shirt and pulled him towards you, pressing your lips harshly against his. Like many times before, Chan’s hands find themselves gripping onto your waist before pulling you onto his lap. All caution was thrown to the wind when your fingers found their way into his hair, tugging at the strand slightly whenever you found him pulling back. “Babe, give me more,” you mumbled, pressing yourself even closer to him.

“Wait, Y/N, maybe we should-”

“Please, Chan? Please?” you begged, peppering kissing down his neck, “Just this once?”

At the sound of your whine, Chan flips you onto the couch, so he’s hovering above you. “Who said anything about ‘once?’”

asjdfkl so yeah, thoughts on a part 2??????? I kinda wanted to flesh out more of their backstory and maybe see what happens next?? and kinda wanted to delve in further into the other exes but then i realized it would’ve been wayyyyyyy too much and i apologize for all the freakishly long fics i write OTL also lmk if you know what skz in this fic sings bc yall a real one if yall do !!!

[crewhonk]

Touch (2)

Warnings: idiots to lovers, god bucky is so stupid. protective!bucky, jealous!bucky, Y/N’s friends are all vulgar frat boy sailors so like, NSFW themes ahead

Words: 3.1K

PART ONE

AO3 / TWITTER / CURRENT SERIES

___________

The first bottle of Grigio had barely even been opened before the girls turned all of their attention towards Y/N— prodding and poking for her to just tell them about Bucky. He was known in Brooklyn neighborhoods for being a flirt, for being smooth and pretty, but all of that went out of the window when Y/N walked into the room. When Bucky could see Y/N, he became a bumbling fool who had never actually had a successful conversation with a woman before. The smooth Tom Cat that was Bucky Barnes became a puppy with ears so long he would trip over them. 

“Seriously, I don’t understand how you can’t see it— Bucky gets all bumbling alpha male around you. It’s really sweet, actually.” Dorris said over her completely full glass.

Dot hummed, already curled under a blanket while Socks, Y/N’s cat, lay on the back of the chair, purring loudly enough for all of the women in the room to hear. “He never acted that way around me when we were dating. Jesus, he was still like that about you when his arm was on my hip.”

“Oh, whatever.” Y/N grumbled, not quite prepared enough to be on the hot seat this early into the evening. “He’s just protective. He’s like that way about Steve too!”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll give you that,” Dot said, “but Bucky doesn’t want to warm his cock in Steve, now does he?”

At Dot’s vulgarity, the girls squealed loudly, kicking their feet excitedly while all of Y/N organs flip-flipped in her body. 

“Good god, I’ve never in my life seen anyone turn this red before!” Victoria giggled. 

“I hate you all and I regret inviting you all over.” Y/N grumbled, pressing a bottle of white to her cheeks to attempt to cool them off. 

“Cock warming out of the picture— what about that time he almost punched Mark out at last years Christmas party?” Gladys sighed dreamily. It was true— Mark had had too much to drink at the party and had gotten Y/N alone against a tight space at the bar. Y/N had never been so uncomfortable in her life— his breath smelled too bad, and he seemed to be unable to just take a hint. 

The girls closest to her seemed to sense her distress, but before they could make any move towards her to pull her away from the situation, Bucky had appeared from the bathroom and zeroed in on him. His nostrils had flared angrily as he grabbed Mark by his disheveled collar and drug him outside of the venue, throwing him into the barren street and rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. 

“You think you can touch a girl like that? My girl?” Bucky had snarled. Before Mark could even begin to defend himself, Bucky picked Mark up by his shirt and slammed him against the side of a parked car hard enough to set off the alarm. Someone cursed and hurried to shut off the alarm before anyone else decided to pay attention to the scene. The party had floated out of the venue to watch the spectacle, some of the braver patrons bringing their booze to sip while they watched what they hoped would be a marvelous fight. 

“I— N-no, Sir.” Mark rushed, gripping Bucky’s wrists and trying to pull. Mark was no match for him, however, as Bucky had just returned from three months of straight Army training— basic training it was called. He had returned three sizes larger, muscles stretching all of his old clothing uncomfortably. He was no longer the tall, lanky man who was known for his quick dance moves. He was known now as the same guy, just absolutely shredded with muscle. 

Just as Bucky raised a well-trained fist to collide with the mans face, Y/N had appeared, her soft touch wrapping itself around her best friends fist and her body wedging itself between the two men. 

“James. Not here.” Y/N had hissed. 

“He was touchin’ you—“

“This isn’t a back alley, James Buchanan. This is the middle of the street while all of my coworkers and their families are watching.” Bucky continued to glare over Y/N’s shoulder, only stopping his stare when Y/N’s soft hand came to rest on Bucky’s cheek. 

“Hey, Jamie. Look at me. I’m here. Hi. Let’s get outta here, yeah? Go see Ma and Papa— they have homemade bread.” Y/N said, talking him down expertly. His almost black eyes looked at her, and he released a harsh breath from his lungs while the blue-grey of his eyes began to return. 

“Hey, hi there, Honey.” Y/N had cooed. “Let’s go get our jackets and go get Stevie on the way home. There’s soup and bread callin’ your name.”

And with a nod, Bucky let go of Marks collar and spun around to collect his jacket, trudging back into the building with Y/N tight to his side. 

“Yeah, I think Mark peed himself after that,” Gladys commented, giggling at the expense of the office slimeball. 

“He so did! Oh, my God I had totally forgotten that. Has he spoken to you since?” Victoria asked, already beginning to feel the buzz of her whiskey. 

“He apologized the next morning— couldn’t even get a sentence out without looking over his shoulder. I think he was half expecting Bucky to jump out from behind a potted plant and stab him in the throat with a knife or somethin’.” Y/N submitted to the girls prodding and storytelling. Maybe it was the wine— maybe it was something else. Y/N figured that she hadn’t ever seen Bucky that angry before, and maybe a little part of her wished she had seen him in his full, raging glory. 

“Okay, okay. What about that time that he spent three bucks trying to get you that stuffed bear at Coney Island on July 4th?” Doris asked, her tough exterior beginning to melt away to reveal an eager (albeit nosey) young lady.

“Oh, the one with the red cape and blue suit and silver stars on its fur? Hold on.” Y/N asked, getting up and retreating briefly, only to return with the same bear tucked under her arm. She had slept with it every night since and had become almost dependant on it to get through the night without waking up. It was stupid, she knew, but the sentiment was sweet. 

“Oh, my God.” Gladys squealed, watching at Y/N curled up in her chair and tucked the bear behind her curled up legs. “You still have him?”

“Why would I throw out Captain America?” Y/N scoffed playfully, puffing up the little white tuft of white hair on the top of his hair. The girls giggled in response. “I tried for three years to win this guy— I’m pretty sure the only reason James could get him was because the poor carnie felt bad he was spending so much money.”

“And what’s up with that? He won that in 1936, right? That was before the Depression ended!” Dorris commented with wide eyes and a slur to her speech. 

“Bucky’s always been like that— he doesn’t seem to be able to get the concept that money is limited. He thinks that price isn’t a figure when it comes to happiness.” Y/N said fondly, taking a sip of her drink. The taste of the wine made her tongue curl in her mouth— she hated the taste of alcohol, but as long as it did its job, it was worth it. 

“I bet you the carnie was disappointed James didn’t even get a kiss at the end of it— probably the main reason why he let him have it in the first place.” Dot commented, knowing that the last comment would get a rise out of one of her best friends. That, and the use of Bucky’s real name. Y/N was particularly short of patience when it came to anyone calling Bucky James unless it was her, Steve or Bucky’s own family. 

“His name is Bucky, and why would I kiss him.” Y/N snapped, much to the girls delight. 

“He spent a whole two bucks on you at Coney Island at a stupid carnie game just to see you smile! Don’t you see it?!” Dorris all but yelled, sloshing booze onto Y/N’s already damaged hardwood floors. “Bucky’s been bitten by the loooove bug.”

“You guys are just being dramatic.” Y/N said quietly, busying herself with another drink of wine. 

“And you're not too innocent here either, Y/L/N,” Victoria said, raising her glass to point it accusingly at her friend. 

“Excuse me?” Y/N spluttered, barely even swallowing her drink. 

“Yeah, you constantly touching him in some way? You can’t go one day without playing with his damn suspenders. Jeez, you were practically leaning against him at lunch earlier today! Anyone with two eyes —maybe even one— would have been able to see how bad you have it for each other.” She continued. The rest of the party hummed in agreement, some even raising their drinks in solidarity. 

“Yeah, and you don’t see it, but he turns bright red every time you do touch him.” Dot smiled kindly. Y/N sat up a little straighter, some part of herself preening under the new piece of information. 

“…..He does?” Y/N asked, trying to pass the question off a coy and subtle, but getting a rise of shrieks and squawks in reply. 

“He so does—“ Dot chirps excitedly. “God, he looks at you like you hung the damn moon and sun. Steve took care of the stars in his eyes, but you? You’re responsible for the moon and sun and the waves and the reason the Earth itself spins— he revolves around you. It’s real sweet, honestly.”

There was a period of bated silence before Y/N spoke again, finally playing into the hands of her best friends. “Okay… so what do I do?” 

“Okay! Okay. So, have you guys kissed?” Dorris asked. 

“I mean, once or twice— on the cheek, stop squealing- Ms. Humphrey is gonna have my head.” Y/N hissed over the women’s commotion. 

“Holy shit okay. So, Ernie asked me to do this thing to him the other day— his construction buddies were talkin’ about it, but I never heard of it before, but it had him a mewling fuckin’ mess under me. It was amazing.” Dorris said, bringing a sudden anticipatory silence over the room. 

“Holy shit— you had Ernie weak? Jesus, he hasn’t been weak since he as a babe.” Victoria gasped. It was true— a well-known piece of information that Ernie was a glorious man— six and a half feet of nothing but muscle and hair. He was the same age as the women, but the way he carried himself and looked made him seem like he was a well-seasoned man. 

“I know, it was amazing.” Dorris half-moaned. 

“What’d you do?” Victoria asked. All the girls were eagerly waiting with bated breath on the edge of their seats. Y/N had turned bright red with excitement at the key to making a strong man moan— the idea of Bucky moaning under her actions was almost too good to be true. 

“Well, I got on my knees in front of him, and he got real hard and you know… I like, kissed him there and stuff.” Dorris fumbled, suddenly shy. Her vulgar personality suddenly replaced by a shy little virgin of a woman.

“You put his goods in your mouth? You nasty bitch!” Y/N gasped. She had never gone very far with a man— nothing more than a few kisses here and there— and at the age of twenty-one, still being a virgin was something that still gave her anxiety. Her mom had told her it was okay because Y/N had told her she was waiting for the right moment (unbeknownst to Y/N, her mother also knew of Bucky and Y/N’s stupidity). 

“Well, it had him havin’ a crisis in about three minutes— and you all know how long we can go for.” Dorris grinned, watching over the rim of her tumbler at the girls jaws on the floor. 

“Wow… I-- what’d it taste like?” Y/N said, hushed. It felt as if God would strike her down for her curiosity, but the idea of sucking a man off was all but unheard of. It was something that women making lives on street corners did— it was never something that upstanding citizens did. ‘But,’ Y/N thought, ‘they make good money for a reason.’

“Wanna be ready for one Mr. Barnes, huh?” Dot smirked. Y/N was surprised to see a blush coating her own cheeks because Dorothy never blushed. Y/N knew that she was thinking about how Bucky would taste, and a monster of jealousy threatened to wake in her stomach. Y/N knew, however, that Dot was fully for Bucky and Y/N getting over themselves, and would do no such thing to disrupt that. She had heard from both ends how far they had gone together (Dot had lost her virginity to Bucky— who, apparently was very gentle with her). Y/N tried not to blush at the information she had repressed. 

“Oh, shut your mouth.” Y/N groaned, eliciting a chorus of giggles and ‘awes’. The girls were also aware of how innocent Y/N was, and when Dot (the last to know) found out, she gaped at Y/N. ‘So you and, you know, haven’t?’ She had asked.

“Well, okay.” Dorris was bright red now and her nose was scrunched up in discomfort and thought. “It tasted salty? I guess? And a little musky? But it also just tasted like him— like his essence or somethin’.”

There was a period of silence before Gladys spoke up. 

“… His essence is salty?” And the girls crowed loudly with laughter. 

“No! God, you’re so annoying— I don’t know how to explain it!” Dorris laughed into her hands. The girls' laughter was brought to a violent stop as someone angrily knocked on the door.

“LADIES! Bed.” The landlady, Mildred Humphrey crowed through the door. She had ignored the several noise complaints that were brought to her, as she had a particularly soft spot for Y/N Y/L/N and her family— they had done so much for this boardinghouse and even participating in local charities which gave aid to women in need. But, rules were rules and it was eleven o'clock.

“Yes, Ms. Humphrey.” The women chorused, covering their mouths to stop any more loud laughter from keeping the tenants of the boardinghouse awake. 

“Goodnight, ladies.” Humphrey’s voice had easily lost its edge, and Y/N smiled in the direction of the door, not realizing that the landlady wouldn’t see it. It’s only another hour before the women begin to wind down under blankets and influence, and once Y/N had made sure all of her guests were comfortable, took Captain America to her room and fell asleep thinking (unabashedly) about the way Bucky Barnes may or may not taste. 

_______________

Bucky Barnes needed flowers. He needed someone to buy him flowers because frankly, his week had been god awful. Firstly, his Major had been on his ass about being late to work after lunch on Friday and had been assigned double physical training. Secondly, his Ma and Pa had been tense— the rising conditions of the war had them worried sick about him, knowing that if the president deemed it so, he could very well be sent overseas. So, thanks to some stupid little man with an even stupider mustache, his home life had been suffocating. 

And thirdly (most importantly, in his opinion) Y/N had been distant on all levels. She had canceled lunch on both Tuesday and Friday and said no to his request to go dancing later that night. He and Steve went to lunch both days, nevertheless, but they had been grossly unpleasant— Steve was on his ass, hounding Bucky and asking what he had done to piss her off. Between his interrogation, Steve was wracked with coughs that had him on the verge of vomiting— it was funny, Bucky though, because the only thing that stopped Steve from actually fighting God himself was his constant state of sick. 

“Seriously, James.” Steve groaned, looking grumpily at the empty chair where Y/N usually sat— beside him, and across from Bucky. “What the fuck did you do?” 

“I— I don’t know, okay? I walked her back to work last week, and we talked and stuff and she took my fag like she always does and then— oh, God.” Bucky groaned, leaning forward so much that his head thunked on the metal table. 

“What.” Steve moaned pitifully. God, if Y/N was pissed at Bucky, by proxy she would be pissed with him and an angry Y/N was never something that anyone wanted. 

“Dot teased us— said it was about time that we got together.” Bucky was sure Y/N didn’t like him now— not in that way anyway, and he truly didn’t know why the idea of her not liking him that way made him feel full of rocks. Steve blinked slowly at Bucky and felt it was appropriate in this moment in time to take the rolled up newspaper on the table and smack him over the head with it. The people sitting around them looked and furrowed their brows. Even the waitresses seemed concerned because as loud as they were, the three customers had become a great source of entertainment and happiness on their bi-weekly lunch dates. Now, the pretty dame was missing and the tiny, angry blonde was smacking the other boy with a newspaper— something was wrong.

“You’re so stupid, James Buchanan,” Steve grumbled, rising to his feet, tucking the paper under his armpit and coughing into his elbow. Bucky watched as his friend appeared to be leaving him, and quickly tried to defend himself. 

“It wasn’t me, Steve! I did nothing! It was Dot who said somethin’!” Bucky almost cried, trying to keep Steve with him— they had only been here for half an hour, and Steve wasn’t due for his doctor's appointment for another hour. 

“Exactly.” Steve hissed, and for the first time, Bucky held his breath in fear when Steve leaned in close. “You did nothing. Figure this shit out, Buck. I shouldn’t have to spell it out for you.” And with that, Steve Rogers left Bucky Barnes at the cafe, alone and confused. 

At least the waitress pitied him enough to give him his meal for free and send him on his way with another free cheese danish. 

[contrariancy]

liner notes for ‘reach’.

So, uh. When I write, whatever I write, I always keep a separate “notes” file with things like general plot points, timelines, stuff I’m debating putting in, cut things, and deleted/rewritten bits. And needless to say, the notes for reach got a little, well, long.

Some of the cut stuff I’m actually repurposing for an upcoming series (tentatively titled ‘iƒ’, based on branching points in ‘reach’), but even when I remove that, it’s a lot. So I figured I’d just dump them here and hopefully someone will find them interesting or what have you.

➤  this fic was how I coped with chapter 295; chapter 1 was written almost in its entirety before 296 came out. I acted cool on tumblr and twitter, but I was absolutely sweating bullets and fully prepared to write bizarre fix-it fic because I wanted it. After 296, I lost some steam, but I had a couple friends tell me they really liked the first chapter and thought it was a good concept. I’ve done enough "lost scene" fics that I wanted to try a new challenge and see if I could create an engaging AU fanfic.

Here is exactly what spawned this:

➤   there were a few rules I created for myself before I got started. The first one was that I couldn’t post anything until the fic was mostly done and once I started posting, that was a commitment to finish it. The second was minimal to no OCs — I had to bend this later with Bathin, but I compromised by making his power fear-based and having him take other forms.

The third rule was that any character introduced had to have some sort of role to play; they couldn’t be there just to "be there" and exist to boost up other characters. Zeal was the only character in it out of necessity, as Guila would have been written entirely differently if she didn’t have her brother with her. Even then, I tried to give him something that wasn’t "[X] in distress." I think the character that came closest to being that was Hendrickson, honestly.

➤ originally, Hendrickson was going to have a phone that he talked to and would have run into Dreyfus while exploring the city. I opted against this because I didn’t want to write any OCs in this and a phone counts. Also, it would be ten times more interesting to have him bounce off of Dreyfus instead of some phone that the reader does not care about. It was also important to me that Dreyfus get introduced as soon as possible, especially in a fic like this where the reader is being asked to accept something different from the top.

➤   Jericho and Howzer were not in the initial draft notes. Then I came up with the pair concept early on (after realizing there was a pattern with Guila-Zeal and Hendrickson-Dreyfus and I could play with that for the eventual Merlin reveal). Fraudrin was an actual character briefly before I decided that Fraudrin as a villain was kind of a tired thing; if I was going to write for him at this point, I would want to explore more of the shades of gray with his character, and this fic would not give me the time or leeway for that. So Howzer became Gil’s paired partner instead, also because I just wanted to write Howzer. Jericho offered the most opportunity for writing things, and I wanted to play her off of Hendrickson and Dreyfus.

➤   Merlin was always going to be the deus ex machina. Merlin was always a factor and always the only Sin I was going to put in. The only thing that changed is she went from sweeping in and completely taking out Bathin and Fixing Everything Ever to coming in for the assist at the end with her OP skills.

➤   Helbram is only in it because he was the first dead character I thought of as a potential partner for Zaratras. I wrote the first half of interlude 1 before anything else and I loved the odd couple pairing, so he stayed and became kind of essential. He’s also very fun to write for and I thought he would be an interesting contrast to the others.

➤   Bathin was going to originally be a straight up Fraudrin clone and just the entity Bathin using Fraudrin’s guise as a persona or whatever. Again, I decided Fraudrin as a villain was a tired thing at this point and having the villain just be Fraudrin again was a bit of a cop out, even if I really didn’t want to write any type of OC. Bathin is like Envy from Fullmetal Alchemist, later complete with Velvet Crowe from Berseria’s arm (which is. also Meliodas and Derieri and I went "oops oh well"). I liked the mental image of Margaret beating everyone up too, so that’s why that happened. It’s also because they’re the two figures in Hendrickson’s life that get possessed and Bathin poses as both of them.

Bathin was meant to be cruel but fun, like an animal that plays with its food. His downfall is his hubris! He thinks he’s on top — and it’s his world, why wouldn’t he think that? — so he doesn’t see anyone as a real threat. The unknown terrifies him though, and that’s why he was tearing his hair out over the 'interloper.' 

➤   ftr, Bathin is one of the many demons referenced in the Lesser Key of Solomon. I’d originally considered something else and even looked into a lot of Arthurian lore, but since Nakaba mines those for canon and I didn’t want to risk any overlap, I swerved in a different direction all together. 

➤   epilogue 1.0 is hot garbage, I started writing this before 296 came out and it was built on assumptions that thankfully turned out not to be true. I trashed it quickly and I like 2.0 much, much better. It’s embarrassingly bad though and this is why you edit, okay. Also, it focused solely on Hendrickson and Dreyfus when the fic did become an ensemble piece and therefore, the other characters deserved to get closure. Some of the sentence structure and imagery got cannibalized for the very last part of the new epilogue, though.

➤   most of the chapter titles stayed the same from the beginning; only chapter 5’s changed. It was originally "in which a good boy questions a demon’s fashion choices" which was a reference to Howzer switching sides and Bathin-as-Fraudrin stuff. Bathin shifted to chapter 6 entirely though, so it became less relevant. The placeholder title was 'in which lightning strikes twice’’ which is a reference to Gilthunder and Zaratras, but since Zaratras doesn’t actually fight in that one, it didn’t make sense.

Everything from here on is from my notes in my project file; the only things I’ve done are rearranged the order for clarity and expanded on shorthand, though there are a couple of italicized notes in parenthesis that I added in later. Some of it is pretty disjointed tbqh! I have a bad habit of not writing in order.

Like I said before, I do a notes file for pretty much anything I write, as it’s where I dump ideas so I don’t forget or move cut text to in case I decide I like the older version better later on (it’s happened). This one just got ridiculously large, so hopefully someone besides me gets a kick out of it.

General notes

Hendrickson wakes up in an apartment, everything is taken care of, wtf

maybe Zaratras has been there for a bit and they're like ARE WE DEAD?? and he's just all HA HA you better not be.

Zaratras is the guy who has just been there!! Forever!! He runs a bar.

Gil is from just before the Kingdom Infiltration arc, so he is just sad and tired all the time.

Howzer is from early and a good boy but also devoted to Dreyfraudrin so it’s like. ??? When he sees those two. He will bond with Hendrickson and this time it will be Hendy’s turn to be like hey. Come. It’s fine.

The ultimate goal with Gil and Howzer is basically attempting to make people whisper "who hurt you."

Merlin shows up in the end like hmm you were all pulled into a pocket dimension but don’t worry, you should be expelled right back into the timeline where you left. No big deal. Bye.

Helbram and Hendrickson kind of. They’re not OKAY but they realize they are both shitty people who were in an impossible situation. Helbram is the petty type, so he’s not really going to forgive him, but Hendrickson doesn’t need his forgiveness either. The two of them work together though because it’s the only way out

Helbram just dunks on Hendrickson constantly because of course he does

Guila is from the same period as Hendrickson and Dreyfus, but she has been there for months by the time they arrive. Zeal is there too because otherwise she’d destroy everyone and everything.

They come in pairs, from similar points in time?

Guila and Zeal are just before the holy war, around chapter 252. Team smartass gen z

Hendrickson and Dreyfus are post 266 / 285 or whatever. Team old man

Zaratras and Helbram are team post death. Team DEAD

Gil and super early bro Howzer who work for Dreyfraudrin. Team dumb boys

Jericho and Merlin. Merlin just lurks for ages, there should be hints about her from chapter 2 on then she’s like lol hi. Post 197 for Jericho, Merlin plays coy because who cares. After 197, Merlin senses Bathin and is like gimme. Team Jericho Broke Nothing

Bathin notes

It’s powered by a crystal that preys on their fears?? Hence Dreyfraudrin existing. Zaratras kind of knows what’s up because he can sense it, since the energy sort of started when he got there, the dude gained a form when Gil showed up, then power when Guila arrived and later Jericho, and now Hendy and Dreyfus sort of complete the collection. It’s their fears all manifested. Merlin has no impact on it though and actually weakened it because ha ha ha you think she has fears, that’s cute. (this shifted to Bathin’s true form being a crystal — I was trying to stick to my "no OC" rule.)

Beleth or Bathin, a fragment of the sangréal? <— too complicated, stick with Ars Goetia lore interpreted for nnt-land. (I think my plan here was some ancient artifact?? Like the sacred treasures. It got really complicated really fast which is no good.) Belialuin Bathinal

Bathin is a demon, its true form is the crystal, it feeds on fears and created the pocket dimension to try and regain a more viable physical form, the weakened state is why its legions are so weak.

But also Bathin feeds on fears and craves Hendrickson and the others’ fears of Fraudrin and everything, and when Bathin finally gets Hendy and is like aren’t you afraid?? He’s just. Yes. I am absolutely terrified. But because Dreyfus took the time to punch him in the heart repeatedly he’s not going to roll over, he has to keep going. Helbram also yells at him like HOW DARE YOU. YOU CAN’T. (This shifted to Jericho in chapter 5 so it could become a more solid arc in the end with the confrontation in 6. Helbram got his moment with Hendrickson and Guila instead and, later, his goodbye.)

Bathin appears like Dreyfraudrin and Margaret, so when they strike Fraudrin down and are like ok?? We good?? Margaret turns and cuts them?? You have until chapter 6 to decide. (it’s pretty obvious what I decided.)

Outline

Hendrickson is the perspective character. Only the interlude, which is Dreyfus-centric, isn’t. (The other two interludes were added as I was writing later on.)

Chapter 1: Hendrickson and Dreyfus and general scene setting. Chapter 2: They actually go around town, Guila and Jericho are super introduced, we get glimpses of Gil and Howzer and they kind of talk to the latter. Kind of. Chapter 3: They get to the bar where there’s a bartender that dresses like a mysterious knight, spooky scary etc etc. It’s Zaratras. Helbram is there, too. More on Gil, Howzer should be questioning. Hendrickson leaves Dreyfus at the bar, runs into Howzer on the way out. Interlude 1: Dreyfus figures out Hendrickson’s plan re: Ludociel. Interlude 2: Jericho and Guila on Helbram. Interlude 3: Howzer and Gilthunder. Chapter 4: The confrontation between Dreyfus and Hendrickson. Howzer crashes their place because of course he does. Chapter 5: The Dreyfraudrin chapter. Vs Gilthunder. Zeal will guide them; alluded to in chapter 3. Chapter 6: The source, Bathin, is revealed, Merlin shows herself. Epilogue: The end. "I’m going to make you see how wrong you are." —> this promise HAS to be fulfilled.

TIMELINE:

Five+ months — Zaratras and Helbram

Five months — Gilthunder and Howzer

Three months — Guila and Zeal

A week — Jericho and Merlin

~Days — Hendrickson and Dreyfus

Setting

Eighteenth Plaza — Bathin is the 18th Goetia. Based on Shibuya 109 on the outside.

Pub’s name — Wandering Knight, Silver Helm

Possible Combos - Shot Purge (Guila-Hendrickson) —> Holy Shot?

Flats are like a venus fly trap, lulling them into a false sense of security and complacency so Bathin can keep feeding off their fear?? Maybe it was and then Merlin showed up like lol hi.  (I dumped this because it overcomplicated things a lot; it just became very subtly and only partially implied in chapter 5 but ultimately not very important.)

Cut lines

Chapter Two: What the four of them manage to put together quickly — really, Guila and Hendrickson exchanging theories and ideas while Jericho and Dreyfus watch from across the booth in silent wonder, occasionally exchanging glances as if to say what is wrong with these two — is this: (I wish I could have kept the Jericho and Dreyfus bit, but it didn’t work. This was when they were in the booth, exchanging information.)

“Now hold on a minute, Gilthunder!” Dreyfus turns back to face him, squaring his shoulders. “This— this isn’t what you think! If it’s about M—”

It’s Hendrickson’s turn to yank Dreyfus back, hissing in his ear. “Don’t.” (I didn’t want to complicate it with Margaret. This was before I’d decided to have Bathin use Margaret as a guise as well, but I’d still cut it even if I knew.)

Chapter Five: “You should be.” Hendrickson counters, resting his hands on the back of the couch, leaning forward to look down at Helbram. “Because he brought you and Zaratras here before anyone else. It’s likely that he preys on the souls of the dead.” He pauses at that, glancing over at Guila who nods in agreement, before shifting his attention back to the fairy. “Even if we ‘get out,’ you can’t just live here. Bathin will continue to eat away at your very spirit.” (there are several logical flaws in this that got cleaned up in the final version, which reads very similarly.)

“That should be plenty of time.” Guila pats at Zeal’s shoulder lightly. “Some of us won’t even need that much time, certainly.” (The scene was dragging on for too long and this was ultimately unnecessary. I tend to be really wordy and not know when to stop a scene, so I cut a lot for the sake of flow later on or rework things.)

“Especially since this isn’t Dreyfus’s field of expertise.” (This was cut from the conversation Hendrickson had with Zaratras -- about strategy -- because frankly, it isn’t true and even if it was, Hendrickson wouldn’t say something like that. I cut a lot of stuff like this where it works for the plot but doesn’t track with the character. editing good!!)

The screech of tires can be heard in the distance.

“Ah, I believe they’ve managed to find a vehicle!” (god I really wanted to put Zaratras commenting on grand theft auto in this, even if it made no narrative sense.)

Chapter Six: “Huh?” Jericho gives her a confused look before looking back over her shoulder, where Bathin and Gilthunder were battling it out hand-to-sword. “Yeah, I just— this place is starting to fall apart.”

“Yes, it is, which is why we need to be careful. If you could provide a distraction—”

“Oh!” She snaps her fingers in response. “Yeah, okay, I can do that!” (Jericho was a bit too passive here and it was difficult to transition to the next beat. I reworked it in the final version.)

“Be careful. He’s using his weight as a weapon.” (This was somewhere in phase two of the Bathin fight. I was trying to set the character apart from other demons that they’ve fought, but this was too expository. Hopefully, the sentiment got across in description and whatnot and if not, uh. Oops.)

As he pulls away, flying off towards solid ground, the ice begins to audibly crack. Hendrickson stares up at it, almost resigned in a way. “So this is it,” he murmurs to himself, watching the cracks spider-web their way along the platform (I removed this and tweaked the final paragraph because it didn’t quite line up with Hendrickson’s character in this, especially given the turning point that comes only a paragraph or two later. That one line doesn’t line up with the rest of his arc in the entire fic; I was trying to make it obvious that the ice was cracking and wasn’t going to hold, but uh. This was not the way to do it.)

As an amicable silence falls between them — a far cry from the silence that lingered the last time he took this elevator up — (The transition in the elevator was hard.)

Gilthunder clenches a fist. “That’s exactly why I can’t forget. If I—” He swallows hard. (A lot of stuff gets cut because I start typing and can’t figure out where to go with it. It just didn’t work in the sequence and was too emotional for Gilthunder’s canon point.)

“By the way, have you seen Helbram?” (Zaratras was going to ask about Helbram as well, but that would have dragged the pacing down. Besides, I’d like to think that after their time together, Zaratras ‘gets’ Helbram on some level and knows he’d want to head out on his own terms.)

The orange hue fades into the black of the night, growing brighter and brighter with every passing moment, much like the world around them. And then, it reaches a point where it becomes blindingly bright, like a warmth washing over all of them at once. And then—

And then—  (Did you know that this was basically the same format I used to end the pentultimate section of another fic because I sure didn’t until I just so happened to reread it before posting this one. god. damnit.)

Epilogue:

“I’m getting better, right?”

Jericho looks over her shoulder at Hendrickson, then gestures at a small patch of ice in front of her. The druid glances between her and the patch, looking mildly uncertain. “It’s progress,” he admits after a moment.

“You should have seen it the other day, though!” She stomps her foot. “Sir Dreyfus told me I had a lot of potential. (This was originally how Jericho’s epilogue was going to start. It didn’t seem right for her though, especially given the ‘reset’ tone, so I cut it and started from scratch. This would potentially work if it was Dreyfus, but not Hendrickson.)

Detailed chapter breakdowns

Chapter 3: Helbram is disguised, Zaratras is in his armor, it’s a pub and they’re INCOGNITO ok. Helbram spills a drink on Hendrickson like an asshole before the reveal. They figure out that the bartender and server aren’t on the same “script” as the NPCs.

CHAPTER 4 ends with them meeting up with Guila and Jericho, Guila is like this is Bathin, the Eighteenth Duke of the Demon Realm.

CHAPTER 5 is the big planning chapter + infiltrating and fighting Gilthunder. At the end, Bathin’s legions converge on Eighteenth Plaza and Dreyfus stays behind to stop them. Zaratras helps, brothers!! They can have a sad scene with Hendy.

CHAPTER 6 will have a big fight scene in it, this needs to be carefully blocked and mapped out. (narrator voice: it was not carefully blocked and mapped out.)

THE PLAYERS

Bathin — via Dreyfraudrin and Margaret. A lot of darkness, demon powers, fear manipulation. Teleportation? Dreyfraudrin has strength, Margaret has Velvet Crowe-esque hand bs? Dark tendrils, like a cat’s tail.

Hendrickson — Purge, Acid. Purge can weaken Bathin’s power. Dreyfus — Break, Full Size. Full Size might be too much for the building. Dreyfus and Zaratras could hold off Bathin’s legions? Guila — Explosion. Combo with Hendrickson at one point. Jericho — Ice Fang. Someone can get thrown out the elevator at some point and Jericho uses ice to extend a platform and keep them from falling. Eventually uses ice to root Bathin in place so she can PUNCH HIM IN THE FACE!!! Howzer — Tempest. Gilthunder — Thunderbolt. Short circuits the electronics? Helbram — plays his part disguised as Gil to get everyone in, fucks off partway through. Returns to yell at idiots. (This plan was too complicated; what I settled on works better character-wise and narratively speaking.) Zaratras — Great Thunder. Works with Dreyfus to hold off Bathin’s THIRTY DEMON LEGIONS so the others can take him.

Merlin — Infinity. She needs Bathin to be weakened and have his guard down to strike, which is why she slinks in the background and waits. Probably steps in after they’ve done that but Bathin is like YOU FOOLS!! Etc etc. Uses infinity to keep the Holy Shot effect goin’ (see above notes about Merlin)

THE SETTING

Top floor of Eighteenth Plaza. There’s the massive office, the long hallway, and the elevator. This is the main area for Bathin.

In the lobby, Zaratras and Dreyfus will take on Bathin’s legions of demons after freeing Gilthunder from his influence.

Guila and Hendrickson get thrown out the glass elevator window, Jericho creates an ice shelf that they cling to, Howzer and Gil work on keeping Bathin busy while Helbram flies out and grabs Guila at Hendrickson’s urging. Hendrickson falls.

Small brief flashback to super young Hendy and Jenna? A call back to being shown how wrong he is. Jenna’s just like LOOK YOU’LL BE FINE, YOU NEVER LIKED IT HERE ANYWAY!! Gosh you’re such a dour kid sometimes, geez, but don’t worry, someone’ll show you how wrong you are someday.

Full Size Dreyfus catches him because gratuitous yes.

Bathin is unfair but so is Merlin.

. . . and that’s it! Hopefully that was interesting to someone and if not, uh. I’m very sorry. Thank you for reading!  🙏

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

Up In Smoke by Annabeth Albert

Hot Shots #4

 This book left a smile on my face. It was a steamy-sweet romance between two men that so deserved to find happiness. No major drama for the couple though taking on the care of an infant baby girl was definitely not easy…but so much easier together than it would have been for either to do alone. It almost had a fairytale feel to it and was perfect reading for me the day I read it!

 What I liked: * That the backstories of the two men had commonalities

* That I felt both men were “equal” and brought qualities that would support the relationship

* That the two men communicated openly and maturely

* Shane: good brother, musician, loving uncle, has goals and dreams, a good person

* Brandt: firefighter, a bit of a rambler, professional, caring, team player, a good person

* The growth in both main characters

* How the two dealt with the situation they found themselves in

* That they were there for Jewel, the baby, and for one another

* That there was no major drama between the two men

* That it felt believable – mostly

* The fairytale feel of the story that might have been less believable but that was very nice indeed

* The happy ending

* Seeing/hearing about some of the characters from previous books in the series

* Wondering if there will be more books in the series

* That there was no “bad guy”

* All of it really except…

 What I didn’t like:

* Being reminded that firefighters have a tough life and that they sometimes die as a result of the job(s) they do.

 Did I enjoy this book? Yes

Would I read more in this series? Yes

 Thank you to NetGalley and Harlequin-Carina Press for the ARC – This is my honest review.

 4-5 Stars

Up in Smoke by Annabeth Albert is available in eBook, mass market paperback and audiobook formats on April 27th!

  Book Description

Three Men and a Baby meets Backdraft with explosive chemistry and heartfelt feels.

 Freewheeling smoke jumper Brandt Wilder thrives on adrenaline. He’s never met a parachute he can’t repair or a dangerous situation he couldn’t wrangle his way out of. He’s popular and fun-loving and not at all looking to settle down or form lasting relationships. It’s a lifestyle that’s served him well…right up until the day he finds a baby on his doorstep.

 Shane Travis is used to putting his country music career—and his own happiness—on hold after his sister rolls through his life. Like last spring when she convinced him to try skydiving for his birthday—and she walked away with the hot parachute instructor.

 Now he gets to deliver the piece of news that will upend Brandt’s carefree life: he very well might be a dad.

 Shane’s niece is safe in Brandt’s strong, capable hands, but too many questions remain unanswered. Co-parenting while they sort it out leads to late-night talks, and soul-bearing confessions lead to a most inconvenient attraction. Still, Shane can’t leave this makeshift family behind—even if it means playing house with the one man he can’t resist.

 Hotshots

Book 1: Burn Zone (available now!)

Book 2: High Heat (available now!)

Book 3: Feel the Fire (available now!)

Book 4: Up in Smoke (coming April 27)

  Read on for an excerpt from Up in Smoke.

 Brandt’s deep chuckle rumbled straight through Shane. Damn. This was torture. Then the other man wrapped an arm around Shane, positioning his muscled forearm where Shane could see his fancy-looking watch gadget. “Now this is my altimeter. It tells me when we’re at five thousand feet and ready to deploy the chute.”

“Got it.” Shane wasn’t about to study that meaty arm any more than he absolutely had to.

“Okay, it’s go time.” Dallas’s voice echoed though the room. Brandt quickly unclipped them, but as soon as he stepped away, Shane’s pulse kicked up. Maybe he couldn’t do this. Jump out of a plane? Who was he kidding? He was a ground dweller, through and through.

Right when he was about to turn away, though, Brandt grabbed his biceps. “Nerves hitting you? Trust me. You’ll be just fine. I haven’t lost a jumper yet.”

Shane barked out a laugh. “Not exactly making me feel better.”

“Listen, I can tell you all day about how awesome this is.” Brandt looked him dead in the eyes, gaze serious for once, all his charm turned to raw intensity. “But until you do it, you’re gonna think it’s all BS. Sometimes you gotta take a leap of faith.”

“Not very good at those,” Shane admitted quietly as he stepped free of the other guy’s grip. He couldn’t keep meeting his eyes either. Too much power there, like a shot with an extra kick.

“Okay. You want me to tell Dallas you want out?”

A yes was right there on the tip of Shane’s tongue, but then he heard Shelby’s laugh ring out. She’d love it if he chickened out. Not only would she get bragging rights for all of eternity, she’d get what she’d wanted and get to go with Brandt. And for whatever reason, Shane hated that most of all. “Nah. I’m going.”

He white-knuckled his way out to the small plane, spared a nod for the female pilot, and squished his eyes shut until Shelby jostled him into looking at the valley underneath them, the green canopy of the national forest contrasting with the pristine blue sky. Random snippets of lyrics danced through Shane’s head, ways that he might try to describe this view. But then, right as he was settling into something resembling comfort, everyone started shuffling around, getting ready to go. The wind rushed in as the hatch opened, and a full-body shiver raced through Shane.

Then Shelby gave him and Brandt one last coy grin before she and Dallas were away, her whoop echoing across the sky.

“Ready? Here we go.” Brandt nudged Shane closer to the open hatch. Shane wanted to say no, wanted to drag their clipped-together bodies back inside the plane, wanted to both hurl and yell. But in the end, all he could do was nod. Only one way down.

His knees had locked up even as his thighs trembled. Behind him, Brandt was sure and solid. He could push Shane out the hatch pretty easily, but he didn’t. He was letting it be Shane’s choice. And somehow that patience and restraint gave Shane a jolt of courage. One step into nothingness. That was all it took.

Brandt was right behind him, smooth as if they were on a dance floor, not open sky. And now they were fall­ing. Falling so fast. Faster than a car on the interstate with the windows all down, faster than a dirt bike on a steep incline, faster than the whoosh down a water slide. There was no describing the feeling of the wind on his cheeks, the roar in his ears, the shout that probably be­longed to him, the adrenaline that crashed through him as he tried to remember what they’d practiced about po­sitioning. Damn. Hard to think.

Which was funny because that was the one thing he was good at. Shelby was forever teasing him about overthinking. But now, his brain couldn’t even pull two words together as they rushed through the air. Brandt yelled something, but Shane was too busy hurtling through the sky to focus on it. And then he was pulled backwards, a hard yank as the parachute deployed. No more freefall. And the oh-my-God-about-to-die adrenaline quieted enough that he could look down, really look.

“Oh my word. It’s… .”

“Beautiful isn’t it?” Brandt’s voice was deep and rich, like warm honey over Shane’s still jangling nerves. Now that the air wasn’t rushing so fast, he could hear him better. Almost too much better, because it felt like they were soaking up each other’s awe and wonder. Sharing something warm and tender and perfect.

“Yeah.”

“Nothing like it.” Brandt whistled low, a sound that hit Shane somewhere soft. “Never gonna get tired of this view.”

“Me either.” Shane almost didn’t recognize his own voice, up this high, this far removed from everything that usually weighed him down.

“Hey, Superman. You want a turn steering?” Brandt didn’t wait for Shane to reply, grabbing his arms, guid­ing his hands.

“Whoa. Wow. I’m doing it. Look at us.” They swooped gently from side to side, and it was quite possibly the best feeling Shane had ever experienced.

“Look at you. Didn’t know your smile muscles even worked.”

“Screw you. I can smile.” Shane was feeling so good that he had to laugh.

“Well, then get ready. The landing crew will snap your pic as we land. It’s your rock-star moment.”

“Feels like it,” he said right before Brandt took over and set them down softly in a clearing, barely even jarring Shane’s knees. “Damn. That was…”

“It was something.” Brandt was looking right at him, like he could see straight through Shane’s layers, strip him bare. And Shane held his gaze, held the moment as long as he could.

 Copyright © 2021 by Annabeth Albert

 Add Up in Smoke to your Goodreads!

 Buy Up in Smoke by Annabeth Albert

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Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/up-in-smoke-27

  About Annabeth Albert

Annabeth Albert grew up sneaking romance novels under the bed covers. Now, she devours all subgenres of romance out in the open—no flashlights required! When she’s not adding to her keeper shelf, she’s a multi-published Pacific Northwest romance writer.

 Emotionally complex, sexy, and funny stories are her favorites both to read and to write. Annabeth loves finding happy endings for a variety of pairings and is a passionate gay rights supporter.  In between searching out dark heroes to redeem, she works a rewarding day job and wrangles two children.

 Connect with Annabeth Albert

Website: http://annabethalbert.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AnnabethAlbert

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/annabethalbert

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/annabeth_albert/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6477494.Annabeth_Albert

[big12pickparty]

Week 8 Big 12 Picks: It’s AG-STRAVAGANZA week!

Photo cred: Pistols Firing.

Glad to be writing about football again. The Big 10 is back this weekend, as is the Mountain West. The Big 12 has five games on its slate. It’s almost like we have a normal weekend of football in front of us!

A few interesting matchups outside the Big 12: Nebraska at No. 5 Ohio State, No. 23 NC State at No. 14 North Carolina are both in the morning slot. No. 18 Michigan at No. 21 Minnesota, No. 9 Cincinnati at No. 16 SMU are the best non-Big 12 games in the evening, though if you haven’t seen Zach Wilson play yet, staying up for No. 12 BYU vs. Texas State might be worth your while. Wilson is a compelling watch even with the inferior competition.

I’m also curious, in the extremely unlikely event that Nebraska opens its season by beating Ohio State--the Buckeyes are 26-point favorites--how high the Huskers climb. The hype would be unbearable. NU hasn’t beaten Ohio State since first joining the Big 10 in 2011, losing five straight since.

Last week: 1-0 (1.000)

Overall: 12-10 (.545)

Kansas 0, No. 20 Kansas State 45. K-State recently lost Skylar Thompson for the year to injury, which severely dampens the Wildcats’ hopes of challenging for the conference crown. KU, on the other hand, lost Pooka Williams, which severely dampens their hopes of scoring points in this game or any other.

Oklahoma 34, TCU 30. OU is about as likely to lose this game - it would be their third in a row - as a pig would be to voluntarily attend a barbecue. The Frogs are just 1-8 against the Sooners since joining the Big 12. That lone victory came in 2014--not, as I recall, Bob Stoops’s best year. Nevertheless, OU is only a 6.5-point favorite, and I don’t think the Sooners cover here.

No. 17 Iowa State 21, No. 6 Oklahoma State 31. I saw someone on Twitter suggest that these two schools need their own trophy for this game. I think it was an ISU fan. I like the idea, but what would the trophy be, and what would the game be called? I think the trophy should be a tractor. (Call the game the AG-STRAVAGANZA!) Mike Gundy played it coy with the media this week, saying that both Shane Illingworth and Spencer Sanders could both see meaningful playing time this week. A good move on his part. They’re such different quarterbacks. Despite the win over OU, I’m not entirely sold on Iowa State. Brock Purdy has played a lot of hero-ball, at least when I’ve been watching, and that will not fly with this OSU secondary. Vegas is expressing very little confidence in the Pokes this weekend (-3), and I can see why. OSU has lost quite a few of these type games over the past four years. Plus, this series has developed the feel of an actual rivalry game in that time: since 2015 not a single game between these two has been decided by more than a touchdown. ISU only won one of those games, however. The Pokes own a 32-19-3 edge all-time. I see them making this the first non-one-score affair between these two Land Grant schools in awhile. Also, don’t miss this opportunity to look back on Tylan Wallace on the same play destroying not one, not two, not three, but four (four!) different Iowa State defenders last year. May all four of them rest in peace.

Baylor 38, Texas 37. I don’t like picking Baylor. Picking Baylor to win makes me grind my teeth. Makes me want to throw up on the nearest Southern Baptist I can find. Worse, picking these particular Baptists to score an upset makes me want to roll around on the ground and eat grass Nebuchadnezzar-style. But I’ll take Baylor in the upset this week. I guess I’ll book a trip to the dentist. In any case, I think Tom Herman is either oblivious or he just says things that make him sound that way when he’s nervous. Earlier this week he said that “I think the general pulse of the team is that we're in as good a place as we've ever been right now as a team”. When you consider he said this less than a week after losing to OU. When you consider his team is 2-2, and should be 1-3. All I can say is that these are the words of a man who is either scared, or an idiot, or both. Anyway: Baylor and UT have met every year since 1923, and a total of 109 times. Texas owns a 78-27-4 advantage. The Horns lost 24-10 last year in Waco. This is the kind of game that, if Texas loses it, may very well get Herman a pink slip. Baylor hasn’t played since the third of this month. I haven’t researched it much, but here’s my position on the Eyes of Texas. If the band that has to play the fucking song doesn’t want to play it, because they think it’s racist, and if the players who play for the team that the fans cheer for don’t want to hear it, because they, the players, think it’s racist, then why on earth would you play the fucking song?

West Virginia 26, Texas Tech 21. Tech showed no signs of life in their recent 31-15 loss to Iowa State. WVU has a pretty good defense. Should be good enough in Lubbock, too, I think.

...

PS: I spent most of the past week working on finishing a long piece about Belmont University’s ties to private prisons and the most successful human trafficker in American history. It went live yesterday, and if you want to read it, you can here. 

[tipsoctopus]

"Aurier is not gonna be happy", "Sounds ominous" - Many Spurs fans react to 44 y/o’s comments

Many Tottenham Hotspur fans have been reacting on Twitter after Spurs fan account Talking THFC relayed comments from Liverpool throw-in coach Thomas Gronnemark, who suggested he could work with the north London outfit next season.

In an interview with Kicker, he claimed he could leave the Reds to join another club in the summer.

He has since clarified his comments on Twitter, saying: “Just to put everything straight. I’m a freelancer. I make new contracts every summer. The mentioned clubs are just random to explain my position as a freelancer.

Best of the Decade: Top scorers & creators – Can you name them?

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“I’m very happy at LFC (Liverpool). Let’s see what the future brings. Stay safe.”

From that we can take it as clear that the Dane was suggesting clubs he could join because of his position as a freelancer, but you do have to wonder if it’s something Jose Mourinho could take an interest in.

As The Daily Mail reports, the Merseyside outfit have successfully used his techniques across both the first team and the academy since the 44-year-old’s arrival at Anfield 18 months ago, and it has helped Jurgen Klopp’s men from an attacking point of view.

It might not be a priority for Spurs right now, but it is surely something that could work for them – and players like Serge Aurier who are committing too many foul throws – in the future.

More than one Tottenham supporter has mentioned Aurier with their reactions to the story, while another said it “sounds ominous”, thinking that it could make them a team that just lump throw-ins into the box.

Here is just a selection of the reaction…

Aurier is not gonna be happy

— GazzaD (@gazzad1) April 3, 2020

Sounds ominous. We’ll be playing like Stoke did a few years back. Awful

— EssexDogs (@dogs_essex) April 3, 2020

This has to be a wind up?? How’s Levy meant to explain to the government that he’s furloughed an employee whose only job is to teach throw ins??

— Justin Stevens (@jstevens123) April 3, 2020

Oddly enough when Liverpool came to town this season I realised they had planned throw ins, we started watching them and on one occasion they played out a whole diversionary scenario that left TAA free near the by line at the edge of the box to put a cross in unchallenged.

— Fauxcanard (@fauxcanard) April 3, 2020

Good, because we are utterly useless at throw-ins.

— SFJ (@SFJNOTL) April 4, 2020

Yes! The last piece of the puzzle between the current mess and a PL win!

— Monnie (@RB_THFC) April 4, 2020

My son has been telling me all season that we need a throw in coach at Spurs. It’s hard to disagree when you see how difficult we find it to retain the ball when we have throw in.#COYS

— Clive the Tottering Oldspur (@Clive82752699) April 4, 2020

In other Tottenham news, Daniel Levy can soften a major potential exit blow for Spurs by signing a Christian Eriksen replacement in return…

from FootballFanCast.com https://ift.tt/2RbhUkK via IFTTT from Blogger https://ift.tt/2JFsfBl via IFTTT

[yoongiandchiminie]

P R E S S U R E { 1 }

;series;

masterlist

{Part 2} 

Pairing: Reader X Yoongi

Word Count: 6,748

Genre: Romance, Smut, Fluff

Warnings: Smut, daddy kink, cursing Summary: After dating for almost 3 years, the armys and Yoongi’s label have found out about your relationship. Now you have to deal with it in your extraordinarily normal life.

I didn’t mean to start dating Min Yoongi. I’d simply gone into New York City. I had taken the day off from work weeks in advance and gone in with my friends then ran into him at Bryant Park. I’d heard BTS before, but honestly, I had no clue that they were there at that time. I later learned it was for some meeting, but we never really talked about the details of one of our favorite days.

We’d made eye contact. He was in front of the fountain taking pictures of it and himself, and I’d noticed him out of the corner of my eye. When we tell this story, he likes to say that I was staring at him with heart eyes. In reality, I watched him for 10 seconds and within that time he’d notice me and given me a coy smile. Then he jogged back over to Jimin and Namjoon and I shook my head clear of that and back into my friends conversation.

I hadn’t noticed the 3 boys following us across the street into Kinokuniya Bookstore. We simply went across the street to look at the manga, figures, and all of the cute stationary. I was there with my two best friends, Alicia and Julianna. They had wandered off, crying about some manga about stray dogs and I was alone in the basement of the store, looking at the stationary when I felt a heat on the back of my neck. I always got nervous when I was alone, simply because I had some terrible anxiety.

I was the mom friend in the group, so I had to take charge in certain situations. For some reason, inside of flight I choose fight. Boy, was it the right choice. I’d turned around the see who was staring at me and it was him, Him with his blonde hair. Him with his soft face. Him with his all black outfit and snapback, hiding from the world.

Before I got the chance to ask why he was staring at me, he stepped closer and held out his hand.

“Min Yoongi.” he introduced and I shook it.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N). Can I asked why a perfectly good stranger has been watching me like some creep.”

He chuckled. I melted. “Well, I can’t help myself to do anything, but to look at you. You kind of have my full attention and I also thought it was a little creepy. Obviously, you noticed me. So, I thought I would introduce myself.”

“What a gentleman.”

“You know, they have this cute little cafe on the top floor. Wanna come get lunch with me?”

His english was a little broken, but I managed to catch his drift and pick up on what he was saying. The way he spoke was almost rehearsed. Later, I found out that Namjoon helped him learn this little monologue so he could speak to me.

Then it was all a part of history. Our history. The six of us had a lunch together and Yoongi and I hit it off. He was trying so hard to speak my language, even though Namjoon had to help him a bunch. He was so… into me. It was crazy. I’d never had such an instant spark with someone, especially someone so reserved at first. I had always had this weird outgoing, loud guy type.

He was so captivating. He still is. Anyways, that’s how it started. After that lunch, he’d invited us to their concert that night. When I carried on, stressing out about how I had nothing to wear, he just waved me off. My girlfriends laughed at my constant need to worry about the silliest things in the world, just stating “This is how I was.” and that “he’d have to get used to it”. Which he responded with, “I plan on it.”.

On the way out of the store, he grabbed my hand and led me down the avenue. We were both totally aware he had no idea where he was off to, but he’d decided I was going to get a whole new outfit then stay at his hotel. I’d felt like I’d known Min Yoongi for years. His personality just vibed with me and the hotel part didn’t even come across in a creepy way? Then we shopped and went to his show.

Obviously, the next day he was gone. Off to some other city. But he never left me. My days were full of constant texts and calls. My weeks became filled with him flying in whenever he had a day off. My months were made up of stolen kisses and my year ended up in a relationship. It was a secret and we could handle it. The constant separation made keeping this secret from his record label so much easier.

Until 2 years later. 2 years into my bliss, we were caught by one of his fans. He’d flown in for the weekend and one of them had followed the car he got picked up in from the airport all the way to a parking lot of a Mcdonald's where he hopped into my car. We were in for some shit, let me tell you. My mentions were filled and so was my phone. BigHit now owned me in a way, sadly. After signing a bunch of contracts about how I wasn’t playing Yoongi and that I couldn’t run away with his money and I couldn’t reveal more intimate parts of him and if we got married I had none of his BTS assets and all of that dumb shit, I thought it had died down.

The armys didn’t hate me. Well, obviously some did, but the others made me feel welcome. Made me feel less scared about going public with my relationship with my boyfriend of almost 3 years. I was very straight forward with the things I could talk about and did whatever his record label asked me to. At first, it started with an hour long interview, talking about myself and us. Why we kept this all a secret and such. It ended with them surprising me with what I thought was a skype call, but Yoongi ended up being there. After 4 months.

When we were on the skype call, he told me to close my eyes for a moment so he could put on something silly or whatever. Then I smelt him, as weird as it sounds. He wore my favorite cologne and I started crying before he wrapped his arms around me. Within seconds I was buried into his chest, sobbing, as he held his hands on my face. He wiped away my tears for camera effect, but he also made sure to block my face from the limelight. He knew I’d be even more upset if there were suddenly gifs of me hysterical on the internet.

So, blah blah blah, right? Now, I’ll bring us to today. Currently, I was hiding in the fridge at my job at a super market deli. My manager knew I was in here and I was even preparing food in here to go in the showcase. Currently there were a bunch of pre-teen girls standing at the counter, all looking for me. It’d been like this for the past week and my manager Steve happened to feel bad for me today.

A few hours earlier, my twitter started to go crazy. The Big Hit account had decided to use me for some retweets and tweeted out my work address. So now it looked like I was having a fucking meet and greet, so I decided to be trapped in the fridge. Yep.

Steve walked in and kind of chuckled at me as I packed some yams into a dinner container. “I know you’re having a hard time out there, but we could really use you. It’s a little busy out there. It’s your meet and greet after all.” Then he broke into a full on laughter, patting his chest, to make sure he could still breathe at the end of it. I didn’t laugh because it wasn’t funny. Not funny at all. “I’m glad you’re sticking this out, you know, taking one for the team back here.”

In all reality, I wanted to ask to go home. It was starting to get cold and I forgot a jacket, but I needed the money. Not all of us could be K-pop idols and I didn’t want to really want to have to rely on him for money. Well, he sort of ruined my job. And my life. Maybe I could bill him for work interruption. I’ll sue him. That’s it, I’ll sue him. I’m not exactly sure for what yet, but I texted informing him about the lawsuit. He didn’t respond.

He also didn’t respond to my 20 other texts messages freaking out about the armys at my job or about how his record label was trying to sabotage our relationship. He was probably in the middle of overworking himself in whatever country he was in today. I had stopped trying to keep up with each individual one and just knew the basic area of where he was. I think it was Korea. Or maybe Japan. I knew it wasn’t America. That was in half a week.

They had a 2 weeks vacation and he’d decided to spend it with me. Every time he got a break, he tried to waste it all on me. I always bullied him into going home to be with his family or spend time with the band and the last 4 days would be reserved for us. This time he’d convinced me to let him stay with me the whole time. He’d even called my store and requested the two weeks off for me as he planned whatever he was going to do. So, starting Monday I would no longer be trapped here, I guess.

As soon as all of the dinner were packed, I stacked them onto a tray and kicked open the fridge door, subsequently hitting one of the chef's, Mike, with it. “Ahh, she emerges.” he joked, pushing my hat lower over my eyes. “Maybe you should go say hi to them. They’ve been here since your shift started.” He nodded at the 50 girls filling up the coffee lounge outside of the deli. I swished my mouth back and forth, debating the situation. “I’ll go with you, if that’s what you need. I know you want to, nervous nelly.”

I put the dinners down and grabbed my bag on my way back to my tundra. I pulled up the step ladder and took out my makeup bag, deciding now would be a good time to look good. Of course I wanted to go meet the girls. They made my boyfriend happy and support him. They support us. I guess it really did look bad if I hid all day. I was just so anxious about the entire situation. I wasn’t the famous one. I was kind of just riding along with the love of my life who happened to be a bit popular.

I pulled off my hat and took out the ponytail within my hair. I ran my hands through it and of course it was already a bit knotted. Nothing could ever be easy in my life. Whatever, this was for him. For his label. In the back of my mind I couldn’t shake the horrible feeling that everyone out there would jump me for dating him, but they were there. Here to see me. Hell, what do I even do? I work, I’m not even in school, and I sing in a band that purely plays in my friends garage because we can’t get our act together to even have a name.

I stood up and cleared my throat a bunch. When I got nervous my voice seemed to crack and I stepped out of my tomb. “Wish me luck.” I said to the guys I worked with and they just laughed and waved me off.

I pushed open the double doors and heard a few noises come from the direction I was headed in. “H-Hey guys.” I smiled, giving a little wave to the girls as they proceeded to run over to me and surround me. First, it started slow. I thought maybe they’d kind of stare at me from a distance, but oh no. Of course nothing can be civil and easy with me, can it?

They started getting closer to me and snapping selfies all around me, throwing out questions about Yoongi.

“What’s he like in bed?” I can’t discuss that. I legally can’t.

“Is this just a publicity thing? So the armys can feel like they have a chance?” No, I’m in love with him. He’s in love with me.

“You’re so fucking pretty. It makes me feel so shitty.” I’m so sorry. I’m so so so sorry. Please, don’t feel that way. You’re absolutely beautiful.

“Is BTS gonna tour here soon?” I don’t know.

“Why have you been hiding from us? What exactly are you hiding, Y/N?” Nothing. I was so scared. I’m so scared.

I wanted to respond to everything. I wanted to defend myself. I couldn’t get a word out edgewise, everything was trapped in my thoughts. I just smiled for all of the pictures and videos they were taking of and with me. I didn’t start to cry until I heard Steve yell for me behind the deli counter, asking if I was alright. Then I became hysterical. I covered my face and closed my eyes, only to hear him running across the wooden floor. He lightly pushed through the girls and pulled me out of there, back to my safe haven of the deli fridge.

Fuck.

I’d been excused to leave work early after that and Steve told me not to come in the next day either. After a little bit of a fight about it, he told me to start my days off early and that he’d talk to his boss about asking if those can be paid vacation days. I knew he’d say no however. The store manager had been pushing for me to work more because of all of the business I’d been bringing in by simply working there. We were up by around half a grand a day and boy did that make him look good.

When I pulled into my driveway, I unplugged the aux cord from my car and dialed one of the numbers I knew by heart. Yoongi’s international number. I rarely called him without asking, but I knew he had my phone call volume on. Only when it was an emergency I’d phone him right away.

It rang three times. “Mmmm, baby? What’s up?” Oh, he sounded so sleepy. I felt bad for about 5 seconds before I started yelling.

“How could you sleep through all of my messages? Boy, have I had a day.” I unlocked my door and slammed it behind me, only locking the top lock. I threw myself on the couch as I heard him groaning about sitting up to check his phone.

“Facetime.” Then he hung up and face timed me this time. By this point, I was upside down on my couch with a red face and an angry expression. I hit the green button. “You look so grumpy.” He chuckled.

“I am grumpy. Please don’t go on twitter for a few days?”

“So, armys were at your job.” I saw his face sink a little as he leaned against the wall.

I sat upright and fixed my hair in the camera mirror. “I kind of started crying and I got excused from work until after my vacation days. They probably think I’m crazy, Gloongs.”

“You’re calling me Gloongs? Look at you. The new dwarf in Snow White. Mopey.”

“I’m gonna hang--”

“No. Please no. You’re not okay. I’m sorry this is happening. I’ll fix it.” Then he hung up.

The way he went about his life was so weird to me sometimes. Knowing him, he was back asleep already too. Sleeping sounded like a pretty good idea, actually. I knew I could never take a nap, it was something I had learned to deal with. I’d always wished I could just pass out like my boyfriend. He had this uncanny ability to simply close his eyes and be somewhere else.

I stood from the purple couch in my living room and walked the total 10 feet to my bedroom. I swung open the door and fell straight onto my bed. The phone charger I kept next to my bed was gone and then I just let out my anger by screaming. I didn’t give a fuck about my upstairs neighbor in this moment or the 5 open windows in the little apartment my mother and I stayed in.  I was just frustrated.

The plug had fallen on the floor off of my mattress, luckily. Once my phone was charging, I called up my best friend Alicia. She didn’t pick up and I knew she was also asleep. Of course two of the most important people in my life had these weird sleeping habits I couldn’t get myself into. I could barely sleep as it was, let alone throughout the day.

I called her again as fast as I could. Normally after the first phone call, she grabbed her phone to turn off the volume for the second call. I always begged her not to because if there was a second call it was important, but she didn’t give a shit. It was almost crazy to me how my boyfriend and best friend were so alike. I really couldn’t fathom how I could handle two of them let alone one, but I did it. I guess my type had changed.

I must have called fast enough because I was met with a groan and a, “Ugh, what do you need?”

“Hey,” I almost choked up? I wasn’t sad, just stressed. “Can we do something?”

“Guardians 2 just came out, if you can get us tickets.” Usually, I was met with a no and that she was going back to bed. “What’s wrong with you?”

I put my phone on speaker and opened up the Chrome browser, typing in showtimes near us. “Oh, you know. I’m just casually getting stalked.”

“Yeah? Well, that’s karma.”

“For what?!”

“Dating a superstar. A hot, lazy version of me though. Yeah. Karma.” she broke into a fit of chuckles and I heard her get up and start rummaging through her clothes. “Do I have to dress nice? Am I going to get followed by some paparazzi?” I could hear her trying not to laugh.

“I’m wearing jeans and a fucking hoodie. The next show time is in 40 minutes, I got us side seats. I’m coming to pick you up.” Then I hung up, grabbed my keys, and ran out my door.

The movie was amazing, but my phone call with Yoongi later was not. Halfway through the movie, I remembered that he had wanted to see it with me. Boy, I wasn’t ready for the angry rant I was about to get, but I stayed up til 2 am for it anyways.

“Hey, baby.” I could hear the smile in his voice. He was in the arena in whatever place he was in now, getting ready for his show. “How are you, what’d you do after our call last night? Or your day time.”

“I went to the movies with Ali-”

“No you didn’t.” Oh no. He interrupted me. He was onto me, he knew. “Are you kidding me? I planned the tour around us seeing this movie during my vacation days!” He was screaming now. I heard Hoseok in the background asking him to calm down and heard my precious boyfriend slapping him away. “You know what? I’m done.”

“Done? Dude, come on.”

“You’re fucking coming to Korea on the next flight and we’re seeing it together. You’re off from work anyways, I’m not taking no as an answer. Hoseok, please take my card and find her a flight. I’d do it, but she won’t pack anything that she needs if I hang up to look.”

He was right, sadly. For such a put together person I over packed unessential stuff no matter where I was going. Day trips, week trips, I packed my entire room up for those.  “Don’t make him book me a ticket. I can buy my own.”

He broke into a fit of laughter. “Shut up, no you can’t. I got you out of work, so let me compensate by paying. You also can’t argue with me because it’s done. Check your email.”

He was right, I couldn’t. The flight was in about 3 hours and I was an hour away from the airport, so I started to pack. He scolded me about packing 3 times the clothes I needed when it only a four day trip. They had three more shows left to end their tour and would be in the same area for all of them. So I didn’t have to feel guilty about more travel expenses and such like I always did.

Of course I knew he had the money to spend and such, but that was the thing. I didn’t want to be pampered by him at all times just because he could. I liked being able to support myself and not feeling like I was using him for his money. I was so in love with this kid and I had been for the last few years and that was the last thing I wanted him to believe.

Yeah, I was working a part time minimum wage job and he was touring the world, but I didn’t need him for such small expenses. Even though I guess a plane ticket wasn’t small. On the cab ride to JFK airport, I was just enveloped in my thoughts about him that I didn’t even realize when we had arrived. I was forced out of my head by a loud honk and the man in the front seat telling me to get out. I passed up a 50 dollar bill and grabbed my larger than I should have suit case out of the trunk.

I never really began going to airports and flying before Yoongi. It was such a normal thing to him, but to me it was so extravagant. Not even including where you’re going, flying on an airplane was just such a cool concept to me. So I took it all in every time. Even if it fucked me over in the end. Which you already knew it did. I never slept, so my jet lag was extra bad during these. I just watched movie after movie, every time. There was truly nothing else to do for me than take advantage of that. I got too anxious sleeping in front of people, even if they were perfectly good strangers.

Whenever my plane landed in South Korea, I always regretted not paying too much attention when Yoongi tried to teach me the language in depth. I knew some basic terms to get me around, but he had practiced English for so long and so hard for me, that I really did feel guilty for not learning his native tongue. It seemed to always be a lingering thought whenever I was in his homeland, but he made me feel silly for thinking that. Stating that I had no true reason to learn Korean and that he didn’t want me to get good at it so he could always talk shit about me without me truly understanding. As much as I wanted to believe that was a joke, I knew it wasn’t.

After grabbing my luggage, I looked around for one of the security guards I knew would be getting me. I pulled my hood lower on my head and looked for the sign that Yoongi probably wrote. Knowing him it would say something embarrassing.  There it was. Booboo buns. He even drew hearts around it. He was such a dick, even when he wasn’t here.

I gripped my rolling suitcase with a hard fist as I walked over to the burly man and waved. He complimented me with a smile and turned his back on me to follow to the car outside. He attempted to take my suitcase from me and I just responded with, “Aniyo gwaenchanhseubnida.” Meaning no thank you. One of the few terms I made sure to know along with where is the bathroom and a few other phrases.

Once I was in the familiar black van, I finally closed my eyes. I didn’t know how far the hotel was and I didn’t bother to ask. Well, I didn’t know how to ask and I had no service here to even text Yoongi I was on my way. He definitely knew though. For a lazy fuck he was on top of important shit; like getting me around a place where I could easily end up lost. As much as I prided myself on having good direction value.

Of course I didn’t sleep on the way to the hotel when that was purely all I wanted to do. The security guard parked the car in front of the hotel and left the hazards on. He simply walked me inside and I said thank you and he passed me a card with the room number and key. From the lack of people around here, I figured the boys were at their show. It was around 8 pm here now, so it was almost a perfect time for me to sleep.

I power walked to the elevator and once it dinged I went inside up to the 18th floor. I closed my eyes on the way up as I leaned against the mirror on the side of the elevator. I hope I didn’t leave a mark or anything. I was probably all gross from that plane ride. If I had the energy I’d shower, but I just wanted to knock out and I bet that the bed here was super comfortable. Nothing like my mattress on the floor back at home. Ding. I was here. Floor 18, room 22. Of course it was at the end of a long hallway. Of course.

At this point I was almost ready to crawl down the hallway, but instead I jogged. I figured I was alone, but I was wrong. During my sprint, I ran into random man and completely ate shit and fell. He said, “Sorry, sorry.” but continued running in the opposite direction of me. Awesome. Now I was tired and bruised and probably had fucking rug burn, but I was over it.  I stood up and just pushed the thought that I got to see Yoongi when I woke up. I swiped the card through room 22 and saw it. The beautiful, big bed. The door slammed behind me and I kicked off the moccasins I’d been wearing for the past almost 16 hours. A smile loomed over my face as I tiptoed over to the empty bed and stuffed myself into it. Within a minute, I was out like a light.

I was awoken by the light turning on, but the thing that pushed me into being awake was the stench that followed it. I coughed to clear my throat and sat up. I opened my eyes to a smiling Yoongi at the foot of the bed. My eyes were still adjusting to the change, so he was a little blurry to me. “Why didn’t you shower there?” I asked. It totally wasn’t the first thing I wanted to say, but I kind of hurt a bit too much to move or yell.

“I wanted to see my girl.” His smile turned into one of my favorites. The gummy one. Then he crawled over to me, rubbing his fingers across the dimple that lined my face. “You’re so pretty… and bloody?” He chuckled, “Did you fall or something?” He peeled the blanket off of me and I was as confused as the look on his face. “Oh, come on. You fell?”

I couldn’t help but to laugh. There were a bunch of scratches on my arm from the carpet that had torn just enough to bleed. Then I just ignored it, so here we were. “Yeah, I fell. I was super tired and ran into this guy-”

“Someone ran into you?” He pulled me into his smelly arms and squeezed me. “You didn’t yell at him? Shame. I love it when you’re a firecracker.” He kissed at my cheek, towards the corner of my mouth. “Wow, I missed you.”

He continued to leave small kisses around my face and I knew I wasn’t sleeping anytime soon. I turned around so that I was looking at him and he had changed his hair. “Green?” My face lit up, “You did my favorite hair color again?!”

He bit at my nose, “Yeah. I gotta make sure this vacation is perfect for you.” He went back to kissing around my face. Whenever we met up, it always started like this. He missed the physical interaction, but never pushed me into anything, He always started slow.

“How was the show?”

“Amazing, as always, but I was so distracted knowing you were here and laying in my bed without me.” His kisses began to trail down the side of my face to my neck, his second favorite place to be at for a while.

“Can we shower? I don’t want to fuck you- No, that’s a lie. I want to fuck you really bad.”

“Blunt today?” he breathed hot air down my neck as he spoke in a sexy whisper.

“I’m gross and so are you, let’s shower.”

We both walked into the bathroom and started stripping each other. Nothing too sensual at first, until we were both in our undergarments. We both just looked at each other for a minute. Observed each other's flaws and imperfections as if it was the first time seeing each other naked, but boy was it not. Honestly, I think that’s what made us love each other so much. Everything was always the same, but it was always new.

“God, I’ve missed you so much.” Yoongi breathed. He undid the clasp on my bra and as I took that off I felt his long fingers slide down my back to pull down my lacy panties I’d been in for probably the last day. I breathed out a gasped when he touched me. His fingers were cold even though the bathroom was slowly heating up. I pulled on the waistline of Yoongi’s boxers, suggesting for him to take them off. Even if we were caught in a moment, he couldn’t help but to slightly laugh at my little motions. I was never truly the one in charge of these situations, but considering it’s been about 3 months since we’d last seen each other, I was getting a little antsy.

He grabbed onto my hand and led me into the shower. As soon as I turned the shower on he started attacking my neck with little kisses. Nothing too aggressive, but hard enough to leave a faint bruise after each kiss. I turned around to face him. God, he was beautiful. We moved closer to each other and our lips finally connected. The kiss was soft and sweet. Then of course leave it to Yoongi become aggressive. With one swift motion, he lifted me off of the ground and made me wrap my legs around him. He pushed me into the tiled wall and I could feel him against my heat.

“You came all this way for me, I figured I might as well do something for you.” He said.

“That’s fine by me, daddy.” I teased. I could feel him fucking harden against me. It was really hot. I knew it was one of his kinks. He would never admit it to me but whenever I called him that it would almost instantaneously turn him on. Now that I did that, I knew I was in for a world of trouble. Aka, him getting mad if I called him anything other than that or sir. I did it anyways, him being mad was pretty hot in these cases.

“Yeah?” his voice was raspier now.

“Okay, Yoongi.” I smirked, excited for the outcome.

“Don’t you dare call me that now. You started this,” Yoongi growled. He let me sink a little bit again the wall, only to duck his shoulder under my left leg and put it on top. My breathing hitched as he got me into one of his favorite positions. Also because this was dangerous. We could die. Then it would be all my fault and his army would kill me.

I was taken back to the moment as he kitten licked up my slit and pulled away right before he got to my clit. He chuckled at the little gasping noise I made when he stopped and lifted up to touch me, but instead of going where I thought he cupped my chin. He smirked and kissed me so hard that I could almost feel the purple that my lip was going to be. He let go of my chin and began to lazily trail his hand down my body, making sure to go over my most sensitive parts in his little teasing session.

His eyes never left yours as he teased a digit inside, but quickly pulled it out. Before he started anything else he made sure I was secure against the wall and in his left hand. He did the same motion again with his middle finger and I gasped as the loss of touch.

“Please-” I begged, reaching for his wrist.

He slapped my hand away and squinted his eyes at me telling me to stop. This time he put in two fingers and curled them inside of me, my eyes closed from habit.  “I want you to look at me while I touch you, princess.” He scolded. I could literally feel my insides turn to mush with his words as I bit onto my lip. His two fingers slowly moved inside of me while his thumb reached up to rub my clit. He kept curling and uncurling his fingers while rubbing little circles. All I wanted right now was to moan loud and sink to my knees, but I couldn’t lose my voice yet and I was pinned to the shower.

At this point he lowered me onto the ground, still keeping my leg on his shoulder. I gripped the shower handle as he moved his mouth onto my clit, lightly sucking on it while keeping his fingers inside of me. I wrapped my leg over my shoulder. He added a third finger and continued to curl them. I reached my other hand out and ran my fingers through his hair, being careful not to pull the green too hard. I pushed my hips down and mumbled a fuck. He hummed into me as he removed his fingers and licked up me one final time.

He pulled his fingers into his mouth, sucking on them while not breaking eye contact. “Better than ever.” He let my leg down and I still needed some support. I reached my arms up lazily and wrapped them around his neck, kissing him softly. He, however, didn’t want soft. The kiss quickly became intense as he slipped his tongue into my mouth. He ran his hands up and down my back, eventually landing on my ass and gripped it like he was holding on for dear life.

The kissing stopped for a moment. “Are you sure you don’t want me to-” I pulled one arm off of him and brought it toward his hip. He reached out for it with his own, lacing our fingers together. It felt less intense in this moment, as he smiled purely and took his other hand to my cheek.

“Let me take care of you for once. Let me fuck you til you beg me to stop, (Y/N).” He spoke in is normal voice, except a little bit higher. I simply bit my lip in response. Leave it to Yoongi to always know what to say to make me wet.

He lifted my leg back up again and placed himself at my entrance. In typical Yoongi fashion, he rubbed the head up and down my folds, barely dipping inside. “Please.” I begged, barely audible. He just smiled and slowly pushed into me. Within seconds, he picked up speed. He went at a mild tempo at first then as I put my hand onto his shoulder he lifted my leg higher and all you could hear was muffled moans and groans along with the slapping of skin.

He gripped my thigh as he thrusted in and out. He never broke eye contact with me and as much as I wanted to close my eyes, I stared right at him. When I reached my high, he knew. I knew he was close too. “Can I?” his eyes darted down to his cock. I nodded as I was unable to even speak. He fucked me right through my orgasm and my nails scratched through his skin. As soon as I was done, he moaned out my name as he came inside me. He lowered my leg to a more comfortable position and then pulled out.

Before putting me back onto the ground he made sure I was leaning on him and had my hand somewhere else. Fuck, he knew me too well. He hummed into my ear as my back leaned against his bare body. He ran his fingers through my hair and I felt a stinging in my eye. “Yoongi stop!” I yelled, squeezing it shut to try to comfort my pain.

“What’s wrong? Was I being too aggressive? I know it’s been a bit and I know you can barely walk right now but maybe y-”

“No, it’s not that-”

“Then what’s wrong?” He wrapped his arms around me, turning me in towards him.

“You got shampoo in my eye.”

He gulped. “I wasn’t holding the shampoo-”

“Then what’s in my eye?!” I yelled, reaching one hand up to rub it. He started to laugh.

“Babe, I am so sorry.”

For the rest of the shower, I just leaned into him after getting whatever was in my eye out. I missed being with him like this in such a personal way. We didn’t even speak, but we were so in tune with each other when we were together. He took care of me and I took care of him. In this moment, it was his turn. He knew I’d been hurting lately, mentally and now physically thanks to him. It was moments like these I was so grateful for him. I was always grateful for him.

He reached over me to turn off the water and pulled a towel off of the rack outside of it. He twirled it around me and then one around his own waist. He kept one arm around me as he patted some of the water off of himself. “You tired?” He whispered, patting me down a little bit before lifting me bridal style out of the shower.

He laid me onto the bed still wrapped up despite me still being well covered in water. He got in next to me and covered us with the warm blanket, pulling me close to his chest. He liked to sleep while in contact with me, despite what it may be. Tonight his arm was around me, but most nights his hand was on my hip or thigh . Tonight was different, he wanted to closer than usual. We which we already were. Our usual is across the world.

“Hey, Yoongs.” I whispered into his chest. He made a noise signaling he heard me. “I love you. I love you. I’m so in love with you.”

He ruffled my hair. “Shh, go to sleep.”

“Reassure me.” my unnecessary anxiety spoke out.

“I’m so in love with you. I’ve loved you since I’ve known you. You’re the strongest woman I know. You’re my sun and I love you. Darling, am I in love with you.”

Authors Note: Hey! I hope you enjoyed chapter 1 of Pressure! If you guys liked it, I’d appreciate if you let me know! I have lots of plans for this and would love to continue writing it! Thank you guys.

part 2 →