#if u saw this earlier no u didn’t i posted one that wasn’t cropped well

[melancholyfleurs]

just a femme dyke in red 💋

[arcanewhoosh]

Partners in Crime

Inspired by this song by FINNEAS of the same name.

Not proofread, English isn’t my first language

1500 words AU

TW: Mentions of past drug use, underage drug use, juvenile imprisonment, cursing, alcohol

Highly recommend listening to the song either before, during, or after reading. Not required, I just think the song is neat

Also on AO3

Late and slightly feeling out of place, arriving at what you thought was a regular afterparty is quickly turned upside down when you run into an old friend that you haven't seen since both of you got sent to juvie.

You take a sip of your iced tea, turning to look at the woman standing next to you. How long had it been since you two last saw each other? Seven, eight years? She looked different, her hair now in twin braids and flowing down her back. She had kept it short when you were younger; easier to run away from cops or other junkies if they couldn't pull on your hair. Her eyes were a deeper shade of blue than you remember. Maybe it was because the lights of the room had been dimmed down, or maybe it was because of the LED lights pasted across the ceiling giving them a tinge of pink. Her skin looked better, even under the dimmed lights. The tattoos were new; teal clouds trailing along her arm and down her side.

"Got them after I got out of juvie." She says, her eyes flicking towards yours.

"How long were you in there?" You ask.

She takes a sip from her can of soda before answering. "Two years. You?"

"Just one."

"Well, lucky you then, I guess." She says dryly, turning her eyes back to the party currently happening. A post bachelorette-slash-bachelor party. Jayce, the groom, was a friend of yours from work. He had invited you to his actual bachelor party, but you couldn't make it so you decided to attend the after party, instead. Which you were also late for. Apparently, Jinx's sister's girlfriend-whom you just found out was technically also your coworker- was a good friend of Jayce, and they were all at his bachelor party earlier before coming back here.

To say you were stumped when you first saw Jinx here was an understatement. You were minding your own business, trying to find a parking spot. When you finally found one, and started reversing into it, you caught sight of a flash of blue hair, and after confirming who it was, almost made you reverse into another car.

You take a minute, gathering your thoughts before opening your mouth, not wanting to be misinterpreted. You remember how erratic her behavior could get when she wasn't high-not that you thought she was still using, you just wanted to be careful. God knows your penchant for blurting out your thoughts at horrible times was not needed at the moment.

The extended silence prompts the her to look back at you. A look of slight annoyance adorning her features. If you let your big mouth have it's way, you'd say she looked pretty under the pink lights, or that you think her tattoos were cool, or that the crop top she was wearing had a chokehold on your single functioning braincell. But thankfully you were sober, and currently using said braincell, so you say none of those things.

"I'm sorry." You manage. She blinks, obviously not expecting you to say that. She frowns, brows furrowed, confused at your oh so very carefully chosen words.

"You got two years and I only got one."

"That was hardly your call, toots."

"But I got us in that situation." You take a longer sip from your drink, trying to remember blurry memories from your teen years.

"You tried to get us off of that stuff early, I didn't listen, and I dragged you down with me." You turn to face her fully.

"This isn't exactly the best time to discuss this.."

"I didn't exactly have time to tell you any of this, you know, since you blocked me from everything-"

"Can you not bring this up right now?" She says sharply, she's glaring at you, and you know her well enough to know that if you keep pushing the subject, she'll lash out at you.

So you sigh instead.

"I'm sorry I brought it up." You're about to say something else, but unfortunately, you're interrupted by a loud voice.

"Hey! There you are!" You feel a hand pull you back and give you a shake. You turn around and see that it's Jayce. The dopey grin on his face tells you that he's one too many drinks in, but it doesn't stop him pulling you into a hug. The randomness is enough to take you out of the previously escalating conversation, and you laugh and hug him back.

"So…" He starts.

You lift an eyebrow "So?"

"Someone has to move their car, so I check it out, and 'm pretty sure it's your car that needs moving." For someone who's very obviously drunk, he manages to say the sentence pretty coherently.

"Yeah, sure gimme just-" You look behind you to tell Jinx that you'd be right back, but the girl is nowhere in sight. You let out a breath, disheartened at how your first conversation with her in years immediately went south. You give the room a once over, and when you can't see her anywhere, you go with Jayce outside to move your car.

The air outside is cold, and you can see your breath every time you exhale. You shove your hands in your jacket pockets and quickly walk to your car, wanting to be out of the chilly air and into heated seats. You get in and quickly shut your doors, starting your car. You thank the universe when the heating kicks in, rubbing your hands together before holding onto the steering wheel and stepping on the emergency brake.

But then passenger side door opens, and the left side of your car dips as someone gets in.

"God it's fucking cold."

You stare at the… intruder? Carjacker? Blue haired bandit? That just unceremoniously entered your vehicle. She rubs her hands together and blows into them for extra warmth, before looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Let's go."

"Huh?"

"Out of here, I'm bored out of my mind." She says as she moves the seat all the way back and reclines it a bit, putting her feet up on the dash. Your eyes move from her to the boots on your dashboard.

"…Feet off my dash."

"Are you serious?"

"You wanna get out of here? My car, my rules."

She huffs, but puts her feet down. You mumble a thank you before shifting to drive and stepping on the emergency brake and moving your car our of parking, letting the truck behind you out. You keep the car on the road instead of backing into the parking spot again, shifting to neutral and using the emergency brake, before turning to Jinx.

"Why are you in my car?"

"I told you, I'm bored."

"And what if I'm going back to the party?"

"Then I'll get an Uber." You stare at her, and she stares at you right back.

Eventually, you relent and look ahead of you. You sigh, closing your eyes and leaning back on your seat. "Don't get an Uber."

The both of you are silent for the next few minutes, not really sure what to say to each other. It's comforting, in a way. Jinx was loud and boisterous, often the center of attention wherever she was. You were the quiet one, a trait of yours that she was keenly aware of. Whenever she got the inkling that you just wanted a moment and weren't in the mood to interact with people, she'd sit down next to you without uttering a word. Oftentimes tinkering with whatever she could get her hands on-your alarm clock usually- and leave you be in your quiet.

"I didn't mean to stir up bad memories earlier. I'm sorry." You say, breaking the silence.

You hear the seat next to you move again before hearing, "I know, I'm sorry too."

"For what?"

"Being a bit of a bitch earlier."

"..... You just wanted me safe."

"Of course I did." You look over to her, and see that she's pulled her knees to her chest. One part of you wants to hold her, another part wants to tell her to get her feet off your seats. You decide to go for the third option.

"I'm sorry for being an idiot and misunderstanding then."

"You were seventeen, and I didn't put up much of a fight."

"We were really dumb, huh?"

She snorts. "Yeah, big time. You were my partner in crime."

The words leave you before you can even think about it.

"And you were still mine."

There it was, blurting out the worst things at the worst time. Jinx looks up at you, mirroring the surprised look on your face. You hold your breath, fearing for the worst. She could leave your car and never talk to you again, she could kick your face. Judging from the army boots she was wearing, that kick is gonna hurt.

But in typical Jinx fashion, she does the unpredictable instead. She throws her head back and lets out a laugh. You're stumped, and simply stare at her until her laughter dies down.

"Where the hell did that come from?" She manages after gets her breath back. You shake your head.

"I don't know. I missed you." God damn it, mouth.

Her smile softens, and she reaches out her hand to you. You take it without saying anything, the scene all to familiar. She pulls your hand towards her and rests her head on it .

"I missed you too, bubs."

A pause.

"We're a mess."

"We've always been a mess."

"You know, you looked pretty though, all strung out on coke."

"It's not funny."

"It wasn't a joke."

[irwinkitten]

brat tamer | poly!kayshton

notes: surprise! did u really think i wasn’t gonna post a fic of my mans on my own birthday??? lmao i know that this aint everyone’s cup of tea, HOWEVER it’s my birthday and I’ll post what I want to. I was gonna do another idea however it’s been shelved for now because i just couldn’t get my inspo going. a lot has been going on but this has genuinely been such a joy to write for this week. prompt was picked out by @sexgodashton​ and obvs it’s our faves. this was written more for us than anything and i’m not sorry about that lmao prompts: “Trust me.” | “You could have warned me.”  warnings: smut, use of the word daddy so if it aint your cup of tea, don’t read it.  word count: 2k oops 

donate to my ko-fi here 

(also not using my tagging list for this one as I know that there are more than a few people who aren’t interested and that’s fine.) 

-

Your hands were clasped in front of you as you waited patiently for Ashton to get to the car. His jaw was tense and you kept your gaze on the floor, but Kaykay stood next to you, defiant and beautiful, smug and rightfully so. 

She’d been winding both you and Ashton up, but you’d behaved, not feeling like playing up. Ashton has muttered how you were so docile and good for him earlier and your mind had it ringing around for the entirety of the day, unable to get it out. 

You didn’t want to be his bad girl and he could see that. You’d even snapped back at Kaykay when she tried to push you. She didn’t try a second time. 

The drive home was silent. 

When you were in the house and the door was shut, a firm slap sounded and you tried not to jump at the noise. Kaykays whine made Ashton roll his eyes. 

“You acted like a brat today, don’t think you get out of your punishment just because our little one was so well behaved. Get upstairs and if you’re not stripped when we get there, you will be in trouble. 

This was news to you, but you remained still, waiting until Kaykay made her way upstairs dramatically. 

“You know how you wanted to try and take charge little one?” Your breath caught. 

“Daddy.” The word came out breathless as his hand cupped your face, caressing your skin gently. You leaned into the touch, watching his face soften at the small show of affection. 

“I saw how annoyed you got at Peachy, little one. She managed to push your patience, so what better time? I’ll still be in charge of you, and I’ll direct if you want me to, but you’re handling her punishment today.” And you felt the anxiety disappear. As much as you wanted to try being in control, it was daunting to your mind. Knowing that you still fell under Ashton’s power and role eased any worries as you nodded to him. 

“Trust me. Tell me what you want to do sweetheart.” The term of endearment was different, but you found that with this power dynamic, you enjoyed it. 

“I want to ruin her orgasms. I wanted to enjoy mine and now I can’t since she’s being like this.” The pout on your lips made him chuckle. 

“Any other ideas? Daddy won’t get mad if you use some of his, sweetheart.” And you felt your face flush at how easily he could read your face. 

“Can we tie her up, use the crop till she cries?” It was a favourite of Ashton’s, to bring you to tears when you’d been bratty. And you were fascinated with the possibility of doing that to her, to see it from his perspective. 

“Of course. It’s your show, and I’m going to enjoy this front seat that I have for it.” And then a wicked grin curved across your lips, making him pause. 

“Wanna ride you, show her what being a brat made her miss out on.” And he chuckled, pressing a kiss to your lips that left you breathless. 

“Oh we’ve definitely pulled out that small sadistic streak. Daddy can do that for you sweetheart. Shall we go see what our brat is up to?” And you nodded, allowing him to lead the way, his hand in yours as the thrill of excitement shot down your spine.

As you entered the room, a frown marred your features as a moan slipped from Kaykays lips, her fingers working herself. Ashton was quick enough to grip her wrist, a whine escaping before falling silent at the look on your face. 

“Gonna punish me angel?” Her voice was sickly sweet and you glanced at Ashton who nodded once. And you allowed a grin to settle on your lips. 

“Since I’m daddy’s good girl, I get to call the shots. Hands and knees, brat.” And the look of shock was worth it before Ashton forced her over onto her stomach. 

“You gonna use the buckle ones or the metal cuffs, sweetheart?” He was giving you options.  

“She’s gonna tug and I don’t wanna hurt her too much. So buckle.” And you watched as he took pleasure in teasing her, the way his hands trailed down her body as she gripped the headboard to steady herself. 

“Daddy.” The whine from Kaykay made him laugh as he climbed off the bed, stripping down and slowly undressing you, his fingers and lips working your skin to get you moaning. 

Then he took a seat that was within Kaykays eyesight if she turned her head, patting his lap. 

“Want me to fuck you now or later?” He asked as you straddled a thigh, edging you closer to your orgasm. And you wanted to say now, but you knew this would be so much better after denying yourself a few times. 

“Later.” You moaned and he stopped, allowing you to catch your breath. Glancing back, Kaykay hadn’t taken her eyes off you as you moved towards her. Your fingers grasped her ass, squeezing the flesh before pulling away. And she groaned in frustration. 

Picking up the crop that was out of sight, you waited till her body relaxed and then you struck her skin, a startled yelp escaping her. 

“Count for daddy, brat.” 

If she wasn’t turned on before, she certainly was now as she started off mumbling the numbers, Ashton silently indicating to hit her harder. And then she was speaking loudly, a few tears trailing from the corners of her eyes. You stopped when you got to twenty five, her knuckles white from gripping the headboard. So you slid a finger into her and nearly moaned at how wet she was. 

“Daddy, she’s dripping.” You gasped and he smirked, a small chuckle falling from his lips. 

“Taste her sweetheart. Taste what you do to her.” And you did, a moan escaping before you dipped your fingers back in, sauntering over to Ashton, holding your coated fingers to his lips. He smiled as he took them into his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours as he cleaned the digits with his tongue, your mind pausing for a second before his fingers squeezed your ass, pulling you back to the present, soft whimpers coming from behind you. 

“Gonna apologise?” You hummed, being met with a few sniffles. Shrugging at Ashton’s curious look, you headed to the toy box the three of you had, pulling out the hitachi and plugging it in. 

She whimpered as you set it to the most brutal feeling setting, trailing it along her back. 

“I’m asking you again, are you going to apologise?” Silence was your answer so you dragged it so that it was resting on her clit. She was immediately squirming, so you smacked the flesh gently, causing her to hold still. You could see her legs begin to tremble as she started getting louder and you counted before pulling the wand away and a frustrated shout escaped her. 

“Gonna apologise?” You taunted but she held firm in her silence. 

So you repeated the process. 

You changed the settings, making her squirm and then denying every single orgasm. 

You got to seven before she started crying, begging you to let her cum and you simply smirked in return. 

“I’ll ask you again, are you going to apologise?” She held her silence and you denied the next orgasm. 

Only when you hit ten, did she break. 

“I’m sorry, please I’m so sorry I’ll be good. Please please let daddy fuck me.” Tears were falling and you turned to Ashton who nodded. 

“Cum all you want to then, Peachy. But daddy gets to fuck me.” You strapped the wand to her thigh, her entire body trembling as her first orgasm washed over her.

Ashton had readjusted the chair so you could watch her as you sank onto his cock, your moan mingling with hers as the wand worked her clit. 

Ashton was ruthless, his hands holding you still as he fucked into you, leaving marks littered all over your body. 

In the time that Ashton sent you over three times before chasing his own one, Kaykay was a quivering mess, you slid to her side, moving the wand once more and she whimpered. 

“One more peachy. Want you to cum for me.” You whispered and she went, her entire body shaking as you turned the wand off, unbuckling her. 

Ashton stepped in, scooping her as he indicated to the bathroom. 

“Run the bath sweetheart. Let’s take care of our girl.” She was babbling her apologies amidst her tears and you felt mildly bad as you did so, Ashton bringing her in and telling you to climb in behind her. 

Holding her body reassured you she was okay as you and Ashton cleaned her up. 

Once all three of you were clean and settled into new sheets, she clung to you, and you simply did what she did with you, running your fingers through her hair before she fell asleep, your eyes meeting Ashton’s. 

“You did good little one.” And you felt yourself settle as you relaxed into the warmth of your girlfriend and slept easily.

When you woke up, Kaykay was still pressed into you, but you could feel what woke you up, her lips on your skin and a soft ‘oh’ escaped you. 

“Angel you were so good last night.” She murmured and you glanced at Ashton who was passed out, returning your gaze to Kaykay who smirked. 

“I’m not gonna be a brat, angel. Daddy knows I wanna thank you for last night. Can I thank you angel? Leave my marks all over you like daddy did?” And you hesitated. 

You wanted her, wanted her to reclaim her dominance and you wanted to submit. But you didn’t want to disappoint Ashton. 

Almost as if he could sense the turmoil in your thoughts, he turned over, hazel eyes studying you carefully. 

“Let daddy watch Peachy thank you, little one. You let daddy appreciate you, now it’s peachy’s turn.” His morning voice was gravelly but you relaxed into the mattress as her lips began to work your chest. 

“You could’ve warned me he was awake and I wouldn’t have hesitated.” You moaned softly, your back arching into her touch.

“Daddy, can I fuck her with the toy you got us? Show her that she does it for me too?” And he must’ve nodded because suddenly his lips were on yours as she got off the bed and rummaged. 

There was a telltale buzz of the vibrator. And then you felt the rounded edge of the dildo and you moaned into the kiss with no hesitation, making Ashton pull away to chuckle.

“Look at our needy little girl daddy.” And you can't help but whimper as your hips rise to meet her thrusts.

“So good for us. Taking control last night. Tell me little one, what do you want peachy to do to you as a thank you? Don’t worry about daddy, he’s just gonna enjoy the show.” 

“Fuck me till I can’t think straight.” You whispered and you felt the vibrations go up a setting, 

“Your wish is my command angel.” And you knew you were a goner as the first orgasm washed over you but she kept going. 

Your body felt like a live wire as you met her thrust for thrust until Ashton held your hips down and Kaykay fucked into you. You could feel your coherent thoughts slipping and Ashton noticed immediately. 

“One more peachy. Fuck one out of her.” And you could only watch as he jerked himself off, his own moans mixed with yours as you felt the euphoria fill your body, eyes falling shut as she kept her movements before shuddering over you, switching off the custom strap on. 

“Thank you peachy.” You whispered as she used her tongue to clean you up, lapping at your pussy before crawling up your body. 

“No, thank you angel. You put me in my place when I needed it. You feeling up to a day of just us?” And you felt yourself cuddling closer to her body, making her chuckle. 

“Day of us it is. I’ll make some breakfast, why don’t you two clean up?” Ashton presses a kiss to your temple as Kaykay held you tightly. 

“Sounds perfect. C’mon angel, maybe if we hurry, we can convince daddy to make some blueberry pancakes.” And the grin that spread across your lips relaxed her instantly. 

-

if you wanna be added to my taglist, fill in the form here!! 

[mermaidcashton]

all the pretty girls

author: claire (@mermaidcashton) ship/AU: calum hood/luke hemmings, genderswap!AU prompt: “Kissing you is all I’ve thought about since the moment we met.”  wordcount: 1519 warnings: swearing, hint of sexual content  dedication: this one is for gay!sos group chat, and all the other wlw 5sos fans 💘 a/n: • so, i wanted wlw!5sos and established relationship, self-indulgent, domestic cuteness and i...think i have achieved that? lol • written for @maluminspace & @h0tsos​ ‘s 5sos fic writers collab (in which we all chose from a list of AU’s and had the above prompt quote to include - i will share the masterlist for you to see everyone elses when it’s finished!) • i do not give permission for this (or any of my writing) to be reposted, by anyone, on this or any other website. please don’t do it! • title from ‘honey’ by kehlani 

all the pretty girls ***

all the pretty girls in the world but i'm in this space with you 

***

“Kissing you is all I’ve thought about since the moment we met.” “Oh!” Luke gasped, burying her head further into Calum’s shoulder. Calum was bemused. “Haven’t you seen this movie like ten times?” “Fuck,I think I’ve seen this movie ten times.” Calum would be seriously questioning her life choices if she hadn’t taken into account that every time she’d ever watched it, she’d had the hottest woman she’d ever met pressed against her. That seriously balanced the scales of shitty cinema, in Calum’s opinion. 

“It’s just so cute.” Luke sniffed. Calum pretended not to notice her wiping her nose on Calum’s sleeve; she looked cute enough in it to get away with almost anything.

Right now Luke was wearing avocado print pyjama shorts and Calum’s Santa Cruz sweatshirt (despite owning at least 300 separate items of clothing, in Calum’s most conservative estimations), with her blonde hair in a messy bun and the beginnings of a snotty nose. Her eyelashes were glossy with the tears she’d brushed away, and Calum thought she’d still be willing to watch every straight-to-video 00’s rom com ever made as long as it was what Luke wanted. 

“Does this seriously not make you emotional? He gave up Paris for her! Paris, Calum!” Luke whined, craning her neck to look up at Calum from her position under her arm, her lithe body laid across the sofa.  

Calum smirked. “Come on, babe; you know ‘Wall-E’ is the only movie that makes me feel anything.”

Luke rolled her eyes, but giggled all the same before pressing on insistently.  “It’s so romantic, though. Isn’t this the most romantic thing you’ve ever heard?” “No?” Calum scoffed, settling back against the mountain of cushions that seemed to grow every time they went to Ikea. Then it struck her. “Hang on, are you saying that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever heard?!” 

“Yeah…” Luke let out another dreamy sigh before stilling almost imperceptibly. Oh, shit.

“What?!” Calum said, already looking more indignant than the time Luke had accidentally cheered for Arsenal insead of Liverpool (“Your Liverpool shirt is red, Calum! What the hell is an away kit?! I hate football!”). “Obviously I wasn’t includi-” Luke tried to recover, but Calum was too far gone. “I write the sickest anniversary cards! My last Valentine’s Day card to you? Fuckin’ poetry, Luke! I mean, not literally because that’s lame as fuck, but I am romantic as shit!”

Calum knew that generally speaking, people would consider Luke to be the more romantic in the relationship. Everyone who lived within 5 miles of their apartment had probably heard Luke tell Calum she loved her, or seen her entwine their hands, or pout her lips for a kiss she had to have right that second, at least twice. She was more prone to posting photos of Calum on Instagram with captions that ranged from sweet to thirsty as hell. Every time she attempted to bake for Calum, it would almost always be using a heart-shaped mould or cutter she’d found at the pound shop down the street. And at Calum’s gigs, everyone always knew exactly where she was in the crowd because Luke was yelling about the incredibly sexy bassist with the best basslines in the history of bass at every possible moment. 

However, Calum thought her own brand of romance of just as valid, and Luke seemed to like it. Calum was a fan of surprising Luke with flowers, albeit wild bouquets of sunflowers and daisies rather than roses or peonies (“Wildflowers for my Wildflower.”), and of playing records on vinyl that she thought Luke would like - or that reminded her of her girlfriend - while they ate a dinner Calum had made from scratch because she’d seen a recipe online that she knew Luke would love. Calum also trusted Luke in a way that was rare for her, and lying in the dark of the their bedroom, speaking out loud things she’d never told anyone - childhood memories of her parents messy divorce, her deepest fears, greatest dreams, biggest secrets - whilst her girlfriend rubbed comforting circles over her hip and placed gentle kisses on her shoulder, felt intimate and special in a way Calum hoped Luke felt was romantic. And like she said - her card writing skills were sick.     

Luke sat up on the sofa, freeing herself from underneath Calum’s arm. She clicked the pause button on the remote, dropping it onto the rug as she threw her hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry, I take it back; you are the most romantic I only meant in, like, movies and stuff! Obviously you are the most romantic and beautiful and I love you!”

Calum sniffed, trying to keep her sad face on without breaking. “Obviously not, as I don’t have a European city to not go to for you…”  Luke saw her girlfriend’s mouth twitch at the corner. Right. She tucked her long legs underneath herself, settling back on the sofa as she spoke. “Like I said, I take it back - I was wrong.” 

Calum could count on one hand the amount of time she had heard Luke say those three words during their relationship, and was ready to celebrate a substantial victory, until she clocked the smile spreading across Luke’s face that spelled trouble.

Luke continued in a purposely casual voice. “The actual most romantic thing I’ve ever heard was on our third date, when you drank all those daiquiris and told me that one day you were gonna ‘fucking wife me’.” Calum groaned and tried to sink back into the sofa so it could swallow her whole; this plan was thwarted by all the Ikea cushions.

“Shut up, that wasn’t me. You must have me confused with your other girlfriend. I don’t even drink daiquiris.” Luke’s distinctive laugh filled Calum’s ears; she loved that sound (it was in her top 3 sounds that Luke made), but right now she felt so embarrassed at the memory of her nerves getting the better of her in a Tapas restaurant that she couldn’t really enjoy it.

“Maybe not anymore! But Ashton told me how much of the morning after you spent with your head in the toilet, so I guess it makes sense you gave them up.” Luke teased, her blue eyes bright with mischief.

“I hate Ashton.” Calum mumbled, with nowhere near as much heat as was currently in her cheeks.

Luke’s giggles had taken on a unmistakable air of victory; Calum could not let this stand.

“Right, that’s it; we’re watching ‘Pulp Fiction’!” Calum declared, leaning down to feel around on the floor in the dimly lit living room for the remote where Luke had abandoned it. “Noooo!” Luke whined, reaching out to grab Calum’s wrists as she rose in triumph. “Cal!” She pouted as she missed entirely. It had always made Calum laugh when Luke tried to overpower her in any way; she was clumsy, and she wasn’t quick or strong enough to get the jump on Calum, unless she cheated (which she often did). In the past, Calum had hoped Luke wouldn’t notice the way she clenched her thighs together when the blonde would wiggle against her, bite her lip, whine or pant. Inevitably, as their relationship had continued, Luke had become fully aware of the effect she had on Calum, and now employed her sexuality as a weapon against Calum whenever she deemed it necessary. Nowadays, she tended to cut to the chase, as she was now. Calum barely registered the remote being extracted from her slackening grip as Luke held the grey sweatshirt and her cropped pyjama top up above her chin with one hand. She did register Luke’s small but perfectly formed tits, and wondered briefly what they had been talking about. Luke didn’t let her clothes drop back down to cover her breasts until she’d already unpaused the movie and stashed the remote underneath the armrest on her side of the sofa. 

“That...was savage.” Calum deadpanned, shaking her head as she clambered to her feet. Luke put on her most innocent smile (which was not that innocent if you knew her as well as Calum did). “Do you want another drink?” “Yes please, gorgeous.” Luke replied with her eyes still fixed to the screen, her lips moving in the time with the actress on screen with the dodgy bangs. Calum rolled her eyes fondly before making her way to their small kitchen in search of rosé.

She didn’t notice it until she closed the fridge again, but Luke had responded. 

Earlier in the day, Luke had used their alphabet fridge magnets to spell out ‘BUY MORE MILK’. Upon seeing this just after lunch, Calum had immediately checked she had the right letters to arrange the obvious reply; ‘NO FUCK U’, giggling to herself the whole time she’d been doing it. She let out a snort, picking up the personalised wine glasses Michael had gifted them when they moved in together. She set off back towards the living room, idly thinking about what movie she was going to demand they put on when this torture was over.

‘NO U’.

***

my masterlist   • please let me know what you think of wlw!cake and if you would like to see more of them here!

[hoedameron]

but before i go looking in the tags, let’s talk about my latest gifsets!

what a worker bee i was both yesterday and today with prodigal son AND loki <3 never have i created so many gifs in a short amount of time it’s a damn miracle that my photoshop didn’t straight up cough up blood and keel over. alas, us bitches are stronger than that! if this post gets flagged because of the scenes i included....that would just mean that i made the right decision to exclude those scenes ajsdksajkldsa

malcolm stabbing martin

when the episode finally downloaded, i took a peek at the ending before it aired to see how it all ends (just in case it doesn’t get renewed </3). GOSH, was i just in a TIZZY when i saw this happen and i couldn’t tell my dad what i saw because we were straight up watching the show as it aired. anyways, keeping my secret knowledge, i got to work on making this gifset. i missed a huge chunk of the episode bc it took me over TWO hours to make the six gif set. i was really torn on the “artistic” approach aka which scene to gif and which to leave out. because i saw the ending before anything else, i couldn’t play it out loud and i didn’t have my headphones to listen so i was like FREE FORMING THE SUBTITLES. plus the captions weren’t synced up so it was really hard to decipher what was being said :( 

i really thought i would be able to create the set before 9 but i was running into unforeseen issues such as the subtitle problem, which on top of that, like i said earlier, my photoshop is c/racked and janky so....you catch my drift. i was actually going to gif the bisexual moment in the cafe which i think would’ve been MUCH easier but i jumped the gun and wanted to make the gifs of the shocking ending. funny part about that is the shocking part wasn’t even included in my set (malcolm driving the knife into martin) because i felt like the scene was too short...anyways, let’s talk about the positives:

i really do like the coloring of this one. i used a psd that i’ve used before and luckily it’s meant for outdoor scenes with greenery so the gif really popped. sharpening, buddy ole pal, love you sm. the caption was kinda last minute but i hoped to save it with the gradient. cropping was a bitch because for some reason, it takes forever when you’ve made multiple gifs beforehand (cache innit) pero we pulled through! i actually started not saving the psd files to try and save time which is very unusual for me pero i was getting frustrated with photoshop so i was like y’know what....so i just gave up entirely and stopped saving. i do save when i’m taking my time but jeez, it’s a bad habit. i like saving the psd file because i never know if there is a mistake i missed in post and when i go to publish it, it’s blatant and it needs to be fixed. please, save your psd files idc if it takes up space u can just delete them later. IT HELPS !! TRUST ME!!

first & “last” appearance

i actually premade gifs for this gifset! unfortunately, i didn’t realize that three of the five gifs were the wrong size (pictured above) because i flipped the ratio. instead of 268 x 250, i made them 250 x 268. i don’t know HOW i managed to fuck that up but luckily i saved the psd files (wink, wink) so the coloring was still intact. i think i had to restart photoshop or it was getting too late so i picked it back up in the morning. sucks that i had to remake the entire gif from scratch but we will take some wins xx

coloring is the same with the previous gifset (listen....it’s a good coloring) and i actually did have an alternative coloring that was very warm pero i didn’t end up using it. almost melted the two with the “last” appearance of gil but ultimately didn’t go through with it. also i was thinking of using baby malcolm as the first appearance because technically, that IS his first appearance in the show but i was like...just use adult malcolm lol. also i know that scene of dani isn’t the “first” but the first scene she has goes really quick and she is planked by gil so there isn’t much of a solo (even though this scene isn’t much of a solo either pero it’s better than the former). the lighting is weird in this episode and my coloring tried their best :/ i know gifmakers make each gif a diff coloring pero i’m lazy okay and looking to be time effiencent. another slight tangent is that i actually queued the post for the morning but since i woke up to a storm, i was like, i’m here so i’ll publish it myself.

other than that...i didn’t run into any other problem. i was actually hesitant to make the caption that because i wasn’t sure how to really describe the team. i have poor memory so if there was ever an official name, i do not remember it. i did a quick google search pero it turned up nothing. i stuck with “dream team” because, well, that’s what they are. plus i didn’t want to tarnish the gifset with any mentions of p/olice (i was thinking about putting sumn along the lines of ‘the nypd team’) so DREAM TEAM IT IS because it’s true! you cannot have the show without these five! also, i should’ve used quotations on “last” because there is a bunch of talk about a renewal pero...just in case... sorry y’all :/

odinson brothers parallels

this was made in the spur of the moment. i saw that the teaser trailer with shirtless loki dropped in hd, i came A-RUNNING! it was posted like 47 minutes after the fact and i was like...somebody probably already made a gifset of the scene so i was like...gosh, to make the gifset or not all the while i was trying to download the video. trying because again, this was in the middle of a storm so my wifi was acting up and wasn’t at its strongest (whatever that may be). so i was getting frustrated because neither cc nor 4kdownloader was downloading this small one minute clip. that’s when i knew i was gonna be too late to make the loki gifset so i was like whatever ig...

then i had an idea.

i love parallels so luckily it hit me that this paralleled with thor and how his hair got chopped off. so, i knew i had ragnarok downloaded and got to work <3 wasn’t sure what dimensions to use so i went with 268 x 268 to make perfect squares. because the loki scene was short, i could only make three so i was like..okay, i can work with this. three for loki, three for thor, they’re brothers and they share! i wasn’t planning to add subtitles but i had written them down for the plain gifset so i was like alright, we’re going all in. i didn’t take that long to make since again, they’re small gifs and i did have a coloring in mind that i always use for ragnarok (it’s my fave for non-marvel edits as well). there was a slight adjustment to the final loki gif because i realized the gif had that dark fade into the scene which i didn’t know if it was an artistic choice for the show itself or was added for the trailer only (it happens when companies cut a bunch of scenes together and it’s not at all how it actually plays out). i didn’t want to take any chances so i cut those parts out. i know the gifs are short on the loki side pero...that’s just how it is in show business.

thank you so much for listening and hearing me out! i like discussing my work and i try to have pride in them even if the numbers don’t reflect what i hope they would. either way, still learning, still growing, still thinking about buying p.s. like deadass this shit is RIDICULOUS -_- imagine opening up ps and like...it opens up in less than two minutes...shivers

[jamesedwinstark]

Okay, as promised I am posting the James noncon. There'll be 2 posts.

I wanna be SUPER CLEAR that this is NOT CANON. This is just a horrible "what if" scenario that I needed to vomit onto a page.

The concept here is that Justin Hammer is holding James hostage. He infected a number of his employees with nanites that will kill them if James doesn't do everything Hammer says. James also has nanites in him which monitor his behavior and make it so he can't call for help.

The first thing Hammer wants to do with James is... go on a date. This is the date.

I’ll pick you up around 8. Wear something slinky ;)

That was the text James had received a few hours earlier. After days of waiting, of trying to pretend nothing was wrong, it was finally happening. James didn’t know if he was glad to get it over with, or if he wanted a few more days of relative normalcy. In the end, it didn’t matter what he wanted. He’d do as he was told.

It was best to get ready like it was a normal date. James picked out an outfit he thought counted as ‘slinky’: a long-sleeved shirt with cut outs in the back and on the shoulders, cropped so it showed barely an inch of midriff, pants which clung to his butt and drew attention where it was needed, and boots with just a little heel, accentuating his legs. He was supposed to be a trophy, not a whore. Right?

Clothes at the ready, James sat down at his vanity. He made up his face on autopilot, not doing anything special; it wasn’t as though this was Valeria or Loki, people whose preferences he knew intimately, who loved him, who he really wanted to please. He wished either of them were here.

While digging through his lipsticks, James pulled out a tacky, pink glitter gloss. He considered wearing it. It suggested youth, naivety, innocence. It said, “set me free; I’m just a kid.” That doesn’t matter. It only matters whose kid you are.

Well, the pink was worth a shot. James never knew what little thing might give him an advantage. He picked out some earrings inlaid with pink gemstones to match.

As he applied the gloss, his phone buzzed. He waved a hand and a screen popped up in front of him. He’d been mentioned in one of his groupchats, specifically the one for former Young Avengers, which he’d been invited to join in an honorary capacity, having spent a decent chunk of his childhood as something of a team mascot. He tapped the notification.

TEDDY: Hey! @James, some of us are heading to a bar, wanna come???

KATE: Jimmmminmy!

ELI: Wr already got satarted

TEDDY: Kate already got started

TEDDY: Yeh, lmao ^^

TOMMY: Jimmy ger Dow. Here and I’ll find u and unstable girl

BILLY: Guys, he doesn’t like being called Jimmy. Plz use his full name

BILLY: Jimbo come hang out with us

A tickle in the back of his head told him that the nanites in his brain were on high alert.

JAMES: As much as I love watching you get trashed and butcher my name, I can’t tonight

KATE: Booo u whoree!

DAVID: Plx help me jim I’m not drunk enough for this

James sighed. The point was for people to know about it, so he may as well say something now.

JAMES: I actually can’t. I have a date :)

The smiley face felt a little forced, but that was probably just projection. Nobody would question it. He was supposed to be excited. It was supposed to be believable.

BILLY: Oh

BILLY: Ok

BILLY: Have fun :)

TOMMY: Lmao seriously tho do ew even wana kno who is it THIS TIME

James clenched his fist in front of his face, and the screen disappeared back into his phone. Even his own friends thought he was an idiot when it came to love. Because you are. You deserve this.

There was almost an hour where James was dressed and ready to go, just pacing around his apartment, waiting. As the minutes stretched on, the nervousness twisting up his insides heightened. It’s no big deal. It’s just a date. Not even, it was a con, just for show. All he was doing was working a mark, playing a role. He was good at that. This would be fine.

He checked his phone when it buzzed again at 8:34.

Car’s waiting. Hurry that cute little ass down here

James took a deep breath, grabbed his coat and headed out the door. While taking the elevator down, James replied.

On my way

There was a white limo parked outside James’ building. James knew it was where he was expected to go, because it radiated a nervous, vicious excitement that made him dizzy. As he approached, the driver stepped out and held the door for him. He had nothing but contempt for James.

“Thank you.” James told him sweetly, flashing him a demure little smile. The driver’s contempt was eaten away slightly by another, even less comforting feeling: pity. He wondered how much, if anything, the driver actually knew about what was going on.

Justin Hammer was waiting for him inside, and if he’d been any happier he would have been bouncing in his seat. The inside of the car smelled a little too strongly of Hammer’s cologne. James sat down across from him and Hammer looked him up and down appraisingly. He was… disappointed. Oh no.

“Is that what you decided to wear?” He asked.

James looked down at his outfit. “What’s wrong with it?”

“I mean, would it kill you to show some more skin?” Hammer whined. “I thought you kids wore skirts now.”

A skirt suggested something. Easy access. Hammer wanted people- James’ Dad most of all- to see James’ bare thighs and know who was getting between them. It seemed that he had been wrong; he was supposed to be a whore.

“I’m… sorry.” James said. “I didn’t know that’s what you wanted.”

Hammer sighed. “I think I’d better take a more hands-on approach to your outfit choices from now on.”

“If that’s what you want.” James acquiesced.

“When we get to the restaurant, there are going to be paparazzi.” Hammer explained, barely acknowledging that James had spoken. “I may or may not have tipped somebody off. You're gonna put on a good show for them, alright? I wanna see a big smile on that pretty face. Really sell how infatuated you are with me.”

James huffed. “I know how to play my role, Hammer. This is what I do.”

“Come on, sweetheart. We're in love.” Hammer said, unpleasantly pleased with himself. “You can call me Justin.”

“I was planning on doing that in public.”

“Well, I want you to do it all the time.”

That was all that needed to be said on the matter.

The car pulled up to the restaurant, and Hammer stepped out first. He held the door for James, making sure that the paparazzi who had indeed turned up saw him doing so. James played his part, put on a cutesy smile and batted his eyelashes as he got out of the car and wrapped himself around Hammer’s arm. As soon as he did, he felt Hammer get frustrated, and saw him glance down at James’ shoes. James was already an inch or two taller, and the slight heel made that little bit of difference all the more noticeable. He’d already messed up again. This might be a little more difficult than he thought.

The handful of paparazzi that had gathered and were being ushered away, unhurriedly, by the restaurant staff, barked questions at James, which he ignored. Their camera drones buzzed perilously close to get good shots of the absolute travesty of a date they were witnessing. James could practically hear the nasty headlines they were concocting in their heads about him and his wonderfully tabloid-worthy habit of getting into bed with the ‘wrong’ sort.

They were at the door when James got the sense of someone else trying to get his attention, but not in a mean way. He heard a child ask, “Is that really him?”

James turned on his heel to see a woman with a little girl, maybe five or six, looking at him. They both got very excited when they realized he’d noticed them. Abandoning his annoyed date, James jogged over to the pair.

“I’m really sorry to bother you Mr. Stark, but we heard you were going to be here and…” The woman began sheepishly, “You’re her favorite.” The little girl buried her face in the woman’s pant leg.

James laughed, sincerely this time. “I always have time for a young lady with such impeccable taste.” He said, before getting down on the little girl’s level. “I’m James, what’s your name?”

The little girl looked up questioningly at the woman- presumably her mother- before replying “Sarah.”

The paparazzi took some interest in what he was doing, but they weren’t as thrilled about it. Local Superhero Nice to Child wasn’t as attention-grabbing a headline as Cap and Iron Man’s Son Does Something Awful, Again.

“It’s nice to meet you, Sarah. Did you know Sarah was my grandmothers name?”

The little girl shook her head.

Hammer was getting exponentially more annoyed by the second, but he couldn’t exactly drag James away from a little kid in front of all these people. Not without looking like the second coming of Ebenezer Scrooge anyway. Still, James didn’t want to push his luck, he had to wrap this up quickly.

“Are you really the Golden Avenger?” Sarah asked.

James snapped his fingers, and a shower of yellow sparks spilled from his hand. “I sure am.”

Joy erupted in Sarah’s chest like fireworks. “We’re the same!” She squeaked.

“She has epilepsy.” Her mother explained. James nodded.

Seeing that Sarah’s ears were pierced, he took the pair of star-shaped pink sapphire studs out of his ears and pressed them into her hand.

“That’s for you. Wash them before you wear them; it’s not sanitary otherwise.” James said. “Now, Sarah, this is important. I believe in you, I want you to believe in yourself, and always, always listen to your parents. Do we have an understanding?”

Sarah nodded.

James hurried back to where he had left Hammer waiting, feeling the impatience directed his way. As soon as he was close enough, Hammer grabbed him, clamping a hand firmly on James’ butt (which the paparazzi adored) and dragging him inside.

“I know that wholesome image is how you sell lunchboxes and all,” Hammer hissed in his ear, smiling as he did so, “but don’t keep me waiting, ever again. You got that?”

A thousand explanations and protests died on James’ tongue. While talking to the kid, he had briefly forgotten that someone else owned him. Briefly.

“I got it. I’m sorry.”

Once they were inside, James shed his coat. Seeing his exposed back made Hammer a little happier with James’ outfit. It was almost… uncomfortable how much happier seeing that skin made him. James brushed it off as just more of Hammer’s weird overenthusiasm.

“Is this more what you were thinking in regard to the skin thing?” James asked. He kept his tone light. “Specifically mine and showing more of it.”

“It’s definitely better.” Hammer agreed.

This was good. If they could get along while fake-dating, eventually Hammer would have to start seeing him as a human being. He would like James, if only James provided the camaraderie Hammer had always craved from James’ Dad, camaraderie which had always been denied to him. Then he’d let James go.

The maitre d’ seated them by a window, which meant more pictures of them together, and more acting for James. While they were across from one another, Hammer fixated on James’ eyes. He didn’t seem to be able to stop looking at them. You didn’t have to be a super-genius to figure out why. You just had to look very, very similar to one.

Nobody brought them menus.

“I took the liberty of ordering ahead of time.” Hammer boasted. “I’m gonna take good care of you tonight, don’t you worry.”

Again, James got a weird reading from Hammer. Something in the back of his head was trying to warn him about something. Danger, James Stark! Danger! Danger! Well, of course he was in danger, somebody else had his life in their hands. It’s more than that, don’t be stupid.

The waiter brought out their meals. James’ was not something he recognized as food, but he’d never been much for fancy cuisine. He’d survived this long mostly on chicken nuggets and takeout. Still, he picked at his dinner, not wanting to seem like he was ungrateful or that he disapproved of Hammer’s choice. He remembered what his Pop had told him about growing up in the Depression, and all the garbage they’d choked down trying to survive. I was 25 before I realized sawdust wasn’t actually an ingredient. If Pop could do that, James could work through something that had been meticulously crafted by a trained chef. Don’t be spoiled. You’re an Avenger, not a princess.

“Do you prefer red or white wine?” Hammer asked. “I know the sommelier personally. She’ll get us some of the good stuff.”

“I can’t drink.” James said, and when that led Hammer to get irritated, he explained, “Because of my condition.” It still wasn’t good enough. “But, I suppose one glass won’t kill me.”

The sommelier who poured their drinks was nauseatingly gracious to Hammer, but James could tell that she didn’t actually like him. Just has the driver had done, she regarded him (internally, of course) with contempt. James started feeling a little bad for Hammer; everyone around him was so fake.

Hammer raised his glass. “To us.”

Oh my gosh he can’t be serious. James raised his glass in answer, smiling through the pain of secondhand embarrassment. Having never really had more than a few sips of alcohol at any one time, James was unused to the taste of wine. It was nasty. He powered through it. People actually drank this stuff for fun? All it did was remind him that, right now, his friends were getting sloppy wasted on any number of unpleasant-tasting concoctions. He was supposed to be there, not here.

“Babe, has anyone ever told you you don’t talk much?” Hammer asked.

“I can honestly say nobody has ever said that to me in the history of my life, no.” James replied.

“It’s something you should work on.” Hammer continued as if James hadn’t spoken at all. “And smile more. Jeez, kid, you’re bumming me out, you know?”

James grinned. “Right, cameras are still on us and all.”

“And you’re having fun, aren’t you?”

He wants it to be real. Give him what he wants. “Yeah, of course.” He wants it to be real. Why did that sit so uneasily?

“This isn’t the sort of place I’d take just anyone.” Hammer gestured around at what was, admittedly, a very classy place. “This is the five-star treatment. It’s just for people I really want to undress.”

“... I’m sorry?”

“It’s for people I really want to impress.” Hammer leaned in. “You’re a very special kid. I’ve been waiting a long time to get my hands on you.”

Hammer was feeling at him very, very intensely. It was like being in a sauna, having him so close and emitting the thrill of power he was getting from all this. Power and… something else.

James laughed, clear and seemingly unforced. “I guess you’ve got me.”

“I guess I do, don’t I?” Hammer leaned back and just reveled in it for a moment. What he was feeling made James little ill. James took a drink of water. It was getting oppressively hot. Hammer was getting oppressively hot… for… James.

He was aroused. This, holding James hostage, hurting his Dad, was making Hammer horny, and he had James right here… he could do anything he wanted. He wants it to be real. How real? How real was he going to make it?

Hammer started talking at James, telling him about some impressive thing he almost certainly hadn’t actually done. James only half listened, his mind was occupied, trying to peel back the layers of Hammer’s intention like he’d been taught to do. Find and identify all the tiny little things Hammer was feeling at a given moment. His attraction was superficial, the real source of his arousal was the sense of ownership he had, of victory. It led to feelings of excitement, anticipation, expectation… certainty. He was certain.

"Excuse me, Justin." James tittered during a break in the ‘conversation’. His smile felt like it would crack his face. "I need to go powder my nose."

Hammer took a sip from his wineglass. "Ok, you can go. Don't take too long, though." Again, that sickening rush washed over him. "I want to get out of here soon."

James hurried away from the table. Soon. His vision blurred the second he stood up, so he navigated his way towards the bathroom mostly through magic. Once there, he clung to the nearest sink for support. Trying to combat the intense nausea that had overtaken him, he splashed cold water on the back of his neck. It was no use. Throwing himself into the nearest stall, James retched violently and puked up what little he had eaten. Cold, clammy sweat started to bead on his lip and the back of his neck.

He's going to rape you. It was not a matter of if. He was going to do it, certainly.

James really was stupid to think it would be anything but this. Why would Hammer be content with just letting everyone think he and James were lovers, when he could make it a reality? This would be the ultimate victory over Tony Stark: raping his baby.

James needed his Daddy. He needed to be rescued, to be held in strong, safe arms like he was a child again. He needed what was about to happen not to happen.

It was going to happen anyway.

Too much time had passed. James got up off the bathroom floor and brushed off his knees. He went to the sink and swished water around in his mouth, getting the acrid taste of vomit mostly cleaned away. This is going to happen to you, and you're going to let it. You'll be fine. You're a survivor. Stark men are made of iron.

He touched up his makeup, dried off a little and, as ready as he'd ever be, headed back to his table.

"There he is! I was starting to think you'd fallen asleep in there." Hammer remarked as James returned to his seat. Hammer was expectant. What was he expecting? Was that supposed to be a joke? It was. James giggled. His mouth was so dry. He sipped at his water. Even that made his stomach turn a little.

"Anyway, where was I? Oh right..." Hammer continued his anecdote in between bites. James smiled and nodded sweetly, his own dinner rendered inedible. He kept trying to get water down, but nothing seemed to help the thick sticky feeling on his tongue and down his throat.

His left hand was clenched in a fist under the table. I could burn a hole right through you just by staring. I could cook your brain in your skull with my fingertip. I could... golly, I really could beat you bloody with my bare hands.

"You're not eating?"

James fluttered his eyelashes. "I guess I'm not very hungry." He explained.

"So you don't want dessert?"

"No thank you."

Hammer's excitement hit James like a freight train, but it wasn't normal excitement. It was all twisted and wrong. He reached out and grabbed James' hand, running his thumb over James' knuckles in a gesture that, from the outside, might appear tender.

"That's ok. You and I are going to have a different kind of dessert. Doesn't that sound good?"

James swallowed thickly, eyes trained pointedly at the middle distance. His smile faltered just a little, and when he spoke, his voice was small, barely audible.

"Yes." He nodded weakly. "Yes."

How exactly they got from the restaurant back to the car, James wasn't sure. He seemed to drift, only barely aware of his coat being wrapped around his shoulders, paparazzi snapping his photo as he stepped outside, the car door being held open for him while he was ushered in like a curious child into an unmarked white van. Smile. You're having a great time. Hammer clutched him every step of the way, as though James were a fish caught in his talons which might slip back into the ocean and swim home before he could devour it.

In the car, Hammer sat next to him, practically right on top of him. James’ stepford smile dissolved the second they were alone together, but Hammer didn’t seem to have noticed. His hand was on James’ knee, inching up his thigh, as he whispered in James’ ear.

“I booked us a room uptown.” He was close enough that James could feel Hammer’s breath on his neck. “I thought we’d do something a little special for our first time.”

“Justin, nobody can see us.” James knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as the words came out of his mouth, but he had to try something. If he made it seem like he didn’t understand, he could say no without actually saying ‘no.’

Hammer’s joy evaporated, replaced with white-hot rage. He gave a short little laugh. “Now, baby, I took you on this nice date and all. I’ve been a real gentleman, and I just think it’s fair,” He squeezed James’ leg painfully hard, “that you put out. Nobody likes a tease.”

“...Ok.”

The anger didn't subside, and James was terrified of what might happen if he let Hammer stay too mad for too long. He plastered a smile back on his face.

“I can't wait.” Was his voice shaking? Had it cracked? “I can’t wait to make love to you.”

His heart was racing. He'd said it, and now he couldn't unsay it. He couldn't stop hearing his own words echoing in his head. Make love. This was the furthest thing from love he could imagine.

The hand on James’ thigh slid up to paw at his groin, and Hammer leaned in to kiss him on the neck. He sucked at the skin there (stop it) like he was trying to leave a mark (don't), and, honestly, he probably was (get off of me). James wanted nothing more than to blast a hole in the car and rocket into the night sky. He reached out, laid a gentle hand on the back of Hammer’s neck and pulled him ever so slightly closer.

“Yeah, good, Tony.” Hammer moaned against his neck. “Just like that.”

James clenched his eyes shut. It didn't seem like Hammer even noticed he'd said anything wrong.

When he was satisfied that he'd left an adequately visible hickey, Hammer licked a wet stripe up to James’ mouth and forced his tongue inside. Fighting the urge to spit the flicking, invasive appendage out of his mouth, James hummed as though turned on. Hammer leaned in, making James take a deeper mouthful of that fleshy, wet thing.

This is just his tongue. How are you going to deal with his…

They were at the hotel before James knew it. Hammer paraded him through the lobby, hand firmly attached to his buttcheek. By some miracle, James managed to continue playing his role, leaning into his ‘date’ and giggling whenever Hammer whispered some horrible, obscene thing in James’ ear. It was all he could do to keep from shaking.

When they got up to the room, Hammer slid James’ coat off for him. It seemed like a normal enough gesture, something a real boyfriend would do, something his real boyfriend had done before, but all James could think was that he was already being undressed. He was being stripped down to nothing.

The suite itself was unnecessarily opulent. Everything sparkled. There were two rooms connected by an archway, the first being home to a sitting area populated by fashionable, uncomfortable-looking furniture, an equally painful-looking dining area, and an oppressively shiny kitchenette with a wet bar. The bar was where Hammer headed, brushing his fingertips along James’ exposed back as he did so.

“I'm going to make myself a drink, do you want anything?” He asked as he got out a glass and a bottle of scotch.

“I'm ok.” If James could get drunk, he would have used any means possible to numb himself. “I have to go get ready.”

Without looking up from his drink, Hammer waved him off. James went into the other room, the bedroom, making a point not to look at the bed. The bathroom attached to the bedroom, and he retreated into it.

Halfway through peeling off his clothes, James felt the urge to vomit again. He knelt in front of the toilet and heaved for a while, but nothing came up. He was too empty. Hollow.

The fancy shower was sufficient for James to get himself clean. Ordinarily, he did this ahead of time in his own shower, because he knew what was coming. He hadn't been properly warned this time, or maybe it had been obvious all along and James had let himself remain in denial. Whatever the case, he didn't want to incur Hammer’s wrath now by not giving him what he expected. He wants the girlfriend experience. James found himself laughing out loud, bitter, strangled noises coming out of his throat. He doubled over and puked into the shower drain.

Would Hammer get mad if James took too long? He reached out his mind and found the man still vibrating with his strange, unpleasant happiness, only a little impatient. Biting his tongue, James reached down and forced himself to work past his revulsion and finger his hole open. It would be easier if he was prepped. It would hurt less. James wondered if Hammer had even brought lube.

After stalling for as long as he could by washing everything several times over, he finally left the bathroom in nothing but a towel. Putting his clothes back on would only get him in trouble. The first thing he saw as he stepped out was the bed. It hit him then. Really hit him. This was actually going to happen. It was going to happen in a few minutes. He folded in on himself, crumpling to the floor. He knew he shouldn’t, that he needed to keep smiling, pretend he wanted it, but he couldn’t stop himself. Desperately, helplessly, James started to cry.

Sensing Hammer approaching, James scrambled to his feet and quickly wiped his eyes, but it was too late. When he walked in the room, Hammer spotted James’ red, tear-streaked face. Again, burning rage emanated from him, tinged with a sense of betrayal. There wasn’t an ounce of guilt or pity inside him. He strode over and cupped James face in his hands a little roughly.

“It’s ok to be nervous.” He said. His voice masked his anger only thinly.

James stared at the ground and nodded, swallowing back more tears. Hammer took hold of one of James’ wrists and guided his hand down to feel his erection through his pants. It wasn't as small as James had hoped. I could castrate him right now. Burn him. He couldn't really, though.

“Feel that, sweetheart? That’s for you.” Hammer cooed. “That’s going to be inside you, and you’re going to love it. Trust me, you’re going to love it.”

“O-ok, yeah. I want-” James’ voice cracked, and he lost it. He was sobbing again, stammering, “Please, Justin, you don’t have to do this. There's a better way to... I can help you. I understand-”

“Stop crying!” For the first time all night, Hammer actually showed how angry he was, just below the surface. James bit his lip to keep any more sobs from slipping through. Hammer continued, “You don’t get to say no to me. Shut up, and go lie down on the bed.”

James whimpered. “Please…”

“Lie down on the bed. Now.”

There was, in fact, lube. As expected, there was minimal prepping. Then, it was inside him.

James tried to go somewhere else while it was happening. He was overwhelmed by the oppressive smell of too much cologne, the words being moaned at him (“Oh, yeah, Tony, fuck, Tony!”), the taste of scotch in the kisses that kept being applied to his mouth, as though this were something sweet and passionate, as though it wasn’t what it was. Most of all James was overwhelmed by the nauseating self-satisfaction that smothered him, threatening to choke the life out of him.

There was a glass chandelier above the bed. It swayed gently and cast diamond shapes on the hotel ceiling. James counted them out: one, two, three, one-e-and-a-two-e-and-a-three-e-and-a around and around the chandelier in a pattern that just wouldn’t stop.

It did stop, eventually. Hammer cried out and spilled into him. James’ mind instantly supplied the image of that fetid, mystery liquid which collected in the bottoms of trash bags and gushed out if the bag was accidentally punctured. Sated and victorious, Hammer gave a few final thrusts (Just stop. Please just stop) and his pleasure walloped James right in the chest. James came, despite himself, sticky and disgusting all over his abdomen.

“Holy shit. I made you come on just my cock.”

Bile rose in James’ throat. He swallowed it down.

“Smile, baby.” Hammer sighed, “I know that was good for you. See, I told you you’d love it.”

When James didn’t respond, Hammer started to get angry. James sensed the heat rising up in his chest. Don’t be stupid. Keep him happy.

“Yeah, of course I did.” James answered brightly. It was easy to slip into being someone else. He couldn’t stand the thought of himself right now. “You’re really… really good. I’m just a little… stunned. Because I enjoyed it so much.” He found himself giggling airily, like some lovestruck floozy. Where was that coming from?

Hammer rolled off of him and lay on the bed, sighing happily. He was floating on a wave of orgasmic bliss and the satisfaction of sweet revenge, in his mind long overdue. Of course he was happy now, but once his head cleared and he could see what he had done, surely remorse would start to set in. Surely.

“That’s good. I’m thinking maybe next time you’ll show a little more enthusiasm.” Hammer said. It was an order. “I wanna see how much you like it.”

Next time… next time. “Ok, I can do that.” James agreed. “I’ll do whatever you want.” Next time. It was all James could think about. The next time this happened to him.

“Good boy.” Hammer reached over and gently stroked the back of his knuckles down James’ cheek. There was no gentleness behind the gesture, however. All James could feel was glee. Sadistic, victorious glee. Hammer was congratulating himself for this.

Surely, surely he would feel bad about it in the morning.

The smugness and delight radiating off of Hammer’s body finally became too much. It felt like James was absorbing something toxic, being so near him. He sat up in bed like a reanimated corpse, restless and agitated.

“I need to get some-” No. Try again. “Can I go out and get some air? Please?”

“Sure babe.” Hammer acquiesced. “Just don’t fly away.” He said it with a smile, but it was a threat. Everything was a threat. Everything was dangerous.

James slid out of bed feeling, perhaps for the first time in his life, ashamed of how naked he was. His clothes were on the bathroom floor. It was like a different person had taken them off. It hurt to stand, to walk. It just hurt.

“Uh, excuse you?” Hammer said, stopping James in his tracks.

What now? What more could he possibly want now? James turned to see him sitting up on his elbows, staring at him.

“Yes, Honey?”

“I’m letting you do something you want. What do you say to that?” His tone was condescending, like he was scolding a child. No, more like he was training a dog.

“Thank you.”

Seemingly satisfied, Hammer laid back down. James wasted no time in scurrying to the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. It felt good to finally be alone. A tear fell down his cheek, but he fought the urge to cry in earnest. He didn’t think he could stop if he started.

It’s fine. These things happen. This time it happened to you. James kept it together as he wiped the… as he wiped off his stomach and the insides of his thighs. Then he gathered his clothes off the floor and, hands shaking, covered himself up again. He was safer now; there was a barrier, however thin, between his skin and Justin Hammer’s hands. It’ll be fine. It’ll be okay. It didn’t seem fine. He could still feel it inside him. He felt where he’d been pried open and then invaded…

You’re ok you’re ok youreokyureokyourokuro

The bathroom floor was still wet. Had so little time really passed since he’d showered? He needed to get up, but he couldn’t force his body to move. It was something like being trapped in a frozen lake, and how you couldn’t swim to the surface because of the shock, so you just drowned. He had hoped that he’d feel better after it was over, but it wasn’t really over, was it? It was never going to be over.

A long time passed before he could stand up and walk out of the bathroom. When he did, he found Hammer already asleep. Good. He didn’t think he could fake his way through any more niceties.

He pictured himself taking a pillow off the bed and pressing it down on Hammer’s face. James was much stronger; he could hold Hammer down with his magic and he wouldn’t be able to fight back. He would just choke (painfully) and die (terrified) and James would get that indescribably terrible feeling he got whenever a soul was extinguished in front of him. He shuddered just thinking about it. No, he wasn’t capable of that, and even if he was, he knew that if Hammer died, everyone infected with his nanites would die too, including James.

James’ coat was hanging in the next room, and he pulled it on and headed for the balcony. The added layer provided him with a little more safety, but didn’t do nearly enough to block the cold wind outside from attacking his damp clothes.

For a while, he just stared at the street below. The people walking down the sidewalk or riding in their cars were too far away for him to read, so he could just imagine that they were all happy and carefree. The couples striding hand-in-hand were all deeply in love, the children were totally safe with parents who had no enemies and never made mistakes, the commuters were on their way home, or maybe to a friend’s house. Nobody had to do anything they didn’t want to do.

James pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket. It was an almost Pavlovian response at this point, smoking after sex. It was normal, felt normal.

That wasn’t sex, his brain supplied that was not sex.

No, but you did have an orgasm.

The balcony was decorated with plastic plants in tacky stone pots, and James hunched over the nearest one and dry heaved until he finally vomited, the effort of it wracking his whole body. It’s not my fault I came. It’s not my fault. I’m not just letting this happen. I don’t have any choice.

He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. Ok. He got all the evil out of him, and it was ok now. He looked down at the now-ruined fake plant and thought, guiltily, of whatever underpaid hotel employee would have to clean it up.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled at nobody as he stood unsteadily.

Leaning against the edge of the balcony, he stuck a cigarette between his lips and lit the end with the tip of his finger. The first inhale settled his nerves immeasurably. Things were bad, yes, but James knew he could find a way out of this. He was smarter than Hammer, all he needed was a plan-

“Prohibited substance detected.” A voice rang in his head.

What?

“Prohibited substance detected.” The voice said again. “Desist or you will be punished.”

“I don’t know what that means.” James snapped at the AI.

“Prohibited substance detected. Desist or you will be punished.”

“What substance?” James hadn’t eaten anything at dinner that he hadn’t been specifically instructed to, hadn’t had anything to drink that he hadn’t been given. What arbitrary rule could he possibly be breaking? Unless… James glanced down at the cigarette he’d been idly puffing on. No. No no no no no…

“Standby for punishment.”

“Wait, wait!” James cried out, but it was too late. Every nerve in his body lit up with intense pain. For a moment, his vision blacked out and he struggled to remain standing.

“Desist or you will be punished again.” The voice instructed as the pain ebbed.

Gazing sadly at the mostly-unsmoked cigarette still in his hand, James incinerated it between his fingers. It was just a cigarette; he didn’t need it, but gee whiz he wanted it. It was the one thing he’d had to look forward to, however small and unimportant it was in the grand scheme of things. Even that had been taken from him. He had nothing. He really, truly had nothing.

Tears started to fall, softly at first. Soon, however, his shoulders were shaking with sobs and he was gasping for air between them. It was loud, ugly crying, but that didn’t matter. Nobody could hear him, anyway.

[aquarian-sunchild]

Hello please look in this direction

I haven’t written in thirty-seven years so today I sat down and wrote about the world I build in my head when I’m bored...which is often haha.

I tried figuring out map-making programs and I am so bewildered by them. Instead I wrote this sort of historical timeline of the setting in the style of Bill Wurtz’s history videos. 

It’s probably not entirely logical or whatever, but I’ve tried my best. Constructive criticism is always appreciated. I might post this on r/worldbuilding. I dunno.

Okay, so I’m focusing on four major countries/cultures in my world-building.

Imagine a map because I can’t figure out map generator sites to save my life. Taking up most of the space in the southeast quadrant of the map is the empire of Kaleem. Centuries ago, Kaleem didn’t exist. There wasn’t much on this particular continent save for some tightly-knit tribes of hunters and gatherers following their food across vast savannahs. Water was very hard to find. Enter Kaleem the First (who I promise will have a cooler name once I start figuring out conlangs for this world). He’s restless. And he has visions of water.

“Hey” says Kaleem to his tribe. “Anyone want to follow me to the flying water I see in my dreams?”

 “Wow, no.” says most of his tribe. “That’s weird. You’re weird. Get lost.”

So that’s exactly what Kaleem did. He gathered up his wives, children and some curious hangers-on and immediately got lost in the savannah. But just as he’s down to his last wife and things are at the worst 🎶 OH MY GOD A GEYSER 🎶 . At least, modern science would say it was a geyser. Kaleem called it ‘the flying water I saw in my visions’...which thankfully became ‘Fountain of Kaleem’ for short. Kaleem and whoever is left settle around the fountain and a community begins to form (yeah there were probably some knotted-up family trees back then but this is very early human history for this world so people didn’t understand that yet so shhhh). The community becomes a settlement and becomes a city.

“Hey.” says the tribespeople who earlier called Kaleem a weirdo. “We’re kinda dying and you’re kinda not. Can we like, chill here?” “Okay” says Kaleem who is now king because he found the place and that’s how things work. The empire of Kaleem flourishes throughout the southern continent. They’re the most prosperous and advanced civilization on the map, and it’s rumored elsewhere that they eat gold.

Ilshe is an archipelago in the northeast corner of the map. Being an island nation, they’re kinda isolated and have their own traditions that others may consider WEIRD or BARBARIC or MILDLY CANNIBALISTIC but whatever half the world doesn’t know they exist so they can do whatever they want. This includes intimidating other Ilshe tribes into submission by eating their chiefs, which is exactly what Míras and his warriors did to centralize power around his particular island and tribe. Hey, it put an end to all the in-fighting for pretty much...forever. 📣Go big or go home.📣 Ilshe kinda looks like a cartoon character’s hand, with a giant island in the middle surrounded by four (maybe five I haven’t decided) smaller islands. NO ONE LIVES ON THE BIG ISLAND BECAUSE THAT IS THE ISLAND OF SOULS WHERE BODIES ARE DROPPED OFF AS OFFERINGS TO THE GUARDIANS OF THE AFTERWORLD WHO TAKE THE FORM OF HUGE CARRION BIRDS OM NOM NOM 🍖BONE ARMS AND TEETH🍖. Ever hear of a Tibetan sky burial? Go google it. It’s fascinating. And gross. It's "gross-cinating"! So now that power is centralized in Ilshe things are pretty chill and aside from butchering for food and animal sacrifices for sacred days things aren’t purposefully killed as often anymore. You could say it’s pretty peaceful, in a genuinely morbid sort of way.

Then there’s this asshole mainland nation to the East of Ilshe called Statsukar. “Hey, that empire-building thing down south looks like fun.” say the leaders of Statsukar. “Let’s try it. How about those island weirdos up there? They’re not even doing anything. This should be easy.” So they set sail for Ilshe with a few hundred warriors and attempt an invasion. It does not go well. One boat returns with a few dozen dazed soldiers and what’s left of the king of Statsukar’s remains tied to the prow. “Soooo...they ate our king. Can we like, leave them alone?”

“Holy fucking shit.” says Statsukar. And they leave Ilshe the hell alone. Because holy fucking shit.

But now there’s no king. And he’s left behind teenage twins, Roga and Annar. Now it’s time to play “Who Wants to Lead Statsukar?” so text those votes to--actually don’t text those votes anywhere because cell phones don’t exist here. Roga wants to strengthen Statsukar’s military after the humiliating defeat by Ilshe. Annar just...doesn’t. Ae just doesn’t and I just realized I haven’t mentioned the existence of a third gender with different pronouns in this universe yet but I guess now I have so wahey. Annar wants to use Kaleem as a model for Statsukar and focus on STUDY📖 and INCREASE OF CAPITAL📈 and 🏥GENERAL WELL-BEING OF THE PEOPLE OF- “No that’s stupid we need firearms and shit.” says Roga.

🎹🎶 IT’S TIME FOR A CIVIL WAR.🎶🎹

And the winner is....🥁🥁🥁 🎺 Nobody, nobody is the winner. Statsukar no longer exists; it’s now Rogakar and Annakar and you will never guess why. But the loser is clearly Annakar, as they lose their sea border that would connect them with Kaleem just as this cool new concept of INTERNATIONAL TRADE💰is catching on (even with the cannibal island Ilshe, who have now sort of chilled out on the brutal tribalism thing [or have they?] and are making a name for themselves as a hub of maritime trade). So now Annakar is essentially cut off from the developing world, their financial prospects are down the tubes and HEY is that a crop-destroying drought? It’s a crop-destroying drought! YAAAAY--Wait no that’s actually pretty bad.

This of course leads to famine and a refugee crisis and there’s more in my head that I could put down but I am le tired and just blinded myself with a stupid light therapy thing so BYE.

[yesevls]

💋/🚿 whichever you prefer HJBCDSH for seul and rin

reaction meme ( accepting )

💋  your muse kissing mine &🚿  your muse asking mine to join them in the shower

given the club the collective of young asian kids living next door to one another in the suburbs attended was lacklustre on EVERY front — seul would give it a one and a half star rating for the regular attendees alone from her own experiences prior to this particularly disastrous night, one which saw her bumping into two one night stands she’d love to forget and one too many leering, filthy guys who got a little too close to an absentminded kerry for the comfort of most, she presumed — it was rather expected that she’d walk into her own house that night, and without some last minute toy. she’s sure that chaerin is either unenthused that the clearly disgruntled girl won’t give her the time of day after striking out tonight, or she’s ecstatic to have her around, neither of which particularly fazing her, not when she’s more concerned about the the feeling of sweat from the packed establishment still present on her skin. the brunette groans upon removing her shoulder-baring, long sleeved black crop top at a snail’s pace, almost missing what the younger — by a few months, not that the measure is of much importance — soon-to-be birthday girl queries, and for one to say that she’s hesitant once it’s processed in her tipsy and slightly frustrated mind would have yeseul barking a laugh. it was a plan for her to jump in the shower after she’d stripped her clothes off and combed through the now likely matted, greasy mess of dark brown locks, and while she wasn’t too concerned about who made use of their shared bathroom first, she would have never guessed that rin would’ve suggested such a compromise of sorts. she quirks a brow and a hint of a smirk tugs at her lips, “ depends, will you wash my hair for me too ? i’m a sucker for a good scalp massage. ” she doesn’t comment on the WHY regarding the initial proposal, nor does she make a ridiculous comment about the notion of water conservation, she simply stands half naked in their bedroom as the other girl sputters out an answer, her hands reaching to unbutton the black shorts that kept her from sweltering in the club earlier. seul proceeds to shove the fabric, along with her panties, past her thighs and lets it slip down her legs by itself before giving a shrug, an indicative why not, and walking to her small vanity — she has to rid herself of the now cakey makeup adorning her face and the knots in her hair first, after all, hearing the pelting of water droplets hit the tile of the shower. 

she may have been too quick to give in, normally a little colder to her roommate when completely sober, however it’s boring being too predictable to others, outside of her usual, sex-motivated antics of course; she knows rin probably didn’t expect it, hence the older’s currently elevated mood, thus she tries not to take much longer to see more of her reaction, putting her brush down and soon entering the bathroom, stepping into the spray emitting from the shower head. her arrival has chaerin scooting closer to the water’s source while yeseul tugs the curtain across, joining her and practically MOANING in relief as the hot water hits her body at the right temperature and pressure. “ so, how about that scalp massage, rin ? ” dainty fingers smooth through the now wet strands of hair, slowly clinging to her back as her head turns to flash the shorter girl a grin, all but coaxing her — or so she likes to think. slightly smaller hands soon replace hers and she sighs peacefully, partially due to getting her way, of course; “ shampoo too ? ” she poses, in such a way that it perhaps sounds less like a polite request than most would like, though rin should expect nothing less, especially so since her behaviour is too surprising as it is. she could easily blame it on any alcohol remaining in her system if the other feels the need to ask — she has just enough experience with a less cool and unbothered han yeseul post-tequila shots, after all — though she doubts it would come up in the end. another noise of approval works its way from her throat as the soothing movements along her head are accompanied by the soapy remains of the girl’s preferred shampoo, much enjoying the scent of pomegranate now wafting through the small, steamed space. seul tilts her head forward for chaerin’s sake, so she can reach the back of her head much easier. “ if i’d known i could get this treatment sooner, i would’ve asked to do this ages ago. ” it’s as if no time has passed as she steps under the water once again, feeling rin’s hands comb through her locks as the soap is washed away, then proceeding to lift her head to let the water cascade down her face for but a moment and wiping the stray droplets away. 

another minute or so passes, the younger having stopped and yeseul running her own fingers through her hair to ensure the bulk of the shampoo has been rinsed out, when she opens her eyes and stares at the other girl for a second. she doesn’t believe she holds a certain emotion in her gaze, simply looking at her roommate who merely standing before her, as her left hand reaches for her loofa. her action comes to a halt, however, as lithe fingers wrap a strand of her hair around themselves and rin takes a half-step closer; the taller most certainly doesn’t expect the lip-lock that she now finds herself in, though she can’t find it in herself to complain too much. she’s always speculated that those of the clingy koala before her were soft, not solely because she fails to believe that any of the girls living in the house don’t use lip balm on a regular basis — she’d say the same about the entire sex, though unfortunately, there were a few HEATHENS here and there who didn’t follow suit. all the same, she’s unsurprised that the girl is a good kisser, unlike the belief she has of kerry, the poor bitch. but yes, the kiss is unexpected, yet she’s quick to respond, her own plump, pink set pressing against chaerin’s and enveloping those of the latter when she senses that the younger would soon break away. her right hand comes up to slide along her collarbone, then to her lower neck where she holds her firmly — yeseul can’t help but to take the lead, she normally has to do it when most of the people she ends up fucking or partaking in some lust-induced activity with tend to become less excited, one could say. there’s one last kiss before she’s sucking on the other girl’s lower lip, releasing it ever so slowly while a distance between their nude bodies is somehow, to seul’s own shock, maintained. her hand lingers on chaerin’s neck, her eyes glinting with mischief while a light chuckle escapes her. “ you could’ve just asked, you know, ” the brunette smirks, head tilted slightly to the side, “ now, should i return the favour ? ” she doesn’t give her much time to answer, already taking rin’s bottle of shampoo into one hand and squirting a sizeable amount into the other, quick to close the top and set it back to its respective shelf. she lathers both hands with the thick liquid before beginning her own washing and massaging duties for the other girl. the brunette takes her hands away for a moment to direct her to turn around, the younger’s back to her chest, before continuing her ministrations. 

and it’s as her fingers work deeply against her scalp, well-pressured, slow motions through her roots, that she leans a little closer, her lips a small distance away from the other’s ear. “ i wonder what you’ll ask me to do next, hm ? ” and she genuinely does, now that she’s all but given chaerin the green light to request kisses, it seems — but it’s mostly to tease, of fucking course it is. “ but for now, ” she drawls, aiding the water now falling upon the other to rinse out the suds in her hair, “ i guess you’ve hit your limit for the night. ” and with that, yeseul steps back, finally making contact with her loofa and picking up her body wash, adding a decent amount to the former object to scrub away the filth from the night she still believes to be there — when her eyes flit to the back of rin’s head. “ U N L E S S you’d like to help me wash up. ”

[stephaniejuhnay]

Prince On Every Tour: Parade

Alright peoples. It’s been a little bit since the last POET post (heh, I love that the acronym for this series is a real word). I intended to watch and rate my enjoyment today, but last night I somehow ended up watching the entire show. If you happen to be one of the few who pay attention to anything I do here (and I LOVE you for it because honestly, I am a real mess), you’ll know that I also just watched the Detroit ‘86 birthday show at the Cobo Arena while physically in Detroit this past Friday. Two shows in one. With that, here we are. Our next stop(s) on the POET train:

PARADE. DETROIT/STOCKHOLM. JUNE 7/AUGUST 22, 1986. LET’S GET INTO IT.

Overview: Oh Parade Prince. Probably amongst the most infuriating iterations of our beloved Prince. He is so unapologetically arrogant and there is nothing any of us can do about it. He changed up on us in a major way after cutting the PR tour short and putting out ATWIAD so quickly afterwards. 11 months after that, this man has another album AND feature film. Visually, he has forgone the curls that are near and dear to my heart for short, slickback that I cannot argue with. And it might have left some of us confused, shocked, wondering why he would take a complete left when the PR era was still in full swing. It’s because he could. He’d made it to megastardom and afforded him the flexibility he needed to REALLY throw us for some loops. This was the time for him to push the boundaries of his creativity in his music and his visual presentation of himself without too much worry of how it would be received. He already had us, and he knew it. 

Parade Prince is that guy that knows he’s fine, that knows YOU know he’s fine, and will exploit it to no end. Because no matter how much you might protest to his face, the reality is this: the the moment he makes eye contact with you during that particularly rude rendition of Do Me, Baby, you both are fully aware that you will be patiently waiting for him in his limo at the direction of his security guard after the show. Against all better judgments. And he delights in the fact that you (try to) resist him. He loves the conquest, especially when he knows he wins. It’s fine. Let him win. Enjoy the life changing. Cherish it for the rest of your life thereafter.

ESSENTIALLY, that is what the entire Parade era is. Prince having a grand ol' time as he quite literally does whatever he wants with no regard for our sanity. Meanwhile, we just try to pick up the pieces of our life as he continues to ruin it with each new era he ushers in. He’s running around looking like a vision out of a 1940′s noir, giving us new music that is very different but oh so great, throwing hip chains into a crowd of unsuspecting onlookers after what might be the most infuriating performance of Head known to us, and we are expected to deal with it. As if Purple Rain didn’t just take place. And no matter which side of the spectrum we fell on when it came to this new era - utterly opposed or completely on board -  we were still here for it in some way, willingly or begrudgingly. Just like he knew we would.

Prince starts these shows shirtless, so you know you're in for a ride. ATWIAD is GREAT live and a great song to open up with. It set the pace for the rest of the show: fun and full of grooves. And he does not hesitate to get into them. Christopher Tracy’s Parade, New Position, I Wonder U, Raspberry Beret are all in the first 15 minutes. We get songs spanning his entire career up to that point in both shows, and he is well aware of the fact that he has HITS ya understand? 

His confidence has transformed into unabashed cockiness ( *sings* I ain’t go no money - THAT’S A LIE). It’s in the way he moves, the way he sings, the way he plays with the audience, everything. I’m frustrated just sitting here thinking about it all. And yet, here I am, unable to resist the overwhelming charm of Parade Prince. One, because his face. Two, he's earned it if we want to be 100. The boy has put in insane work, and it finally skyrocketed with PR. Now he gets to enjoy it all. He deserves to be gassed. We’ll allow it.

Boyfriend didn't get sloppy or plateau here either when he probably could have gotten away with it. A true professional, after having reached that level of stardom but deciding not to just phone it in or coast. Production value is still great, although less busy than the PR tour. No poles to slide down on, no bathtubs to take a shower of pearls in. Costumes are still great, albeit, again, not as busy as PR. Band is even tighter now with the expanded Revolution. Their sound is more dynamic with the addition of Eric "Sith" Leeds, Atlanta Bliss, and Atlanta's God-awful ponytail. He was playin' tho, so I'll relax about it. They have proven that when it came time to execute on stage, they could handle the constant changes in sound and personnel quite well. But again, testament to his leadership and dedication to excellence. 

Then there is the addition of official dancers in Jerome, Wally, and Greg. I know some may have felt "but why" about them, but man, do they add a really fun element to the show! We have full on routines now folks, and there are few things I love more than to see Prince work it out on stage in a routine. Yes, we saw some minor coordinated steps previously, but we hadn't really had routines. With these three though, we see choreo that gives the show some more life,  Prince being part of some of them (the 1999 album medley in which they did the PR balcony dance to Lady Cab Driver is A+), and even incorporating the band into them. It's a real treat. 

Favorite Number: There are a few numbers I love from this tour. Detroit clearly has some great ones. Controversy/Mutiny is ALWAYS a fave, if not for the fact that they are good songs, then for the dancing during those numbers. Head...for very obvious reasons. It is already a jam, and Prince decides he has to one up himself every time he decides to perform it live. Of the four Parade shows I’ve seen, Detroit’s Head is by far the best. Paris gets an honorable mention though because there is a breath hitch that stopped me cold in my figurative tracks. It was...so authentic. Even if it wasn’t. Life Can Be So Nice was also another jam from the Detroit show, which was a nice surprise for me because it isn’t my fave from Parade. In the end though, I can confidently say that Pop Life is my favorite number from this show. I adore the live arrangement of this song so much. And he is incredibly cute during that performance, so there’s that.  Stockholm’s lineup is very similar to this one. But instead of Mutiny (sad about it), we get 17 Days, which, surprisingly I really enjoyed. 17 Days is one of my favorite songs ever, but it’s one of the few I prefer the studio version over the live version. It’s perfect the way it is, and for some reason, to me, the live versions don’t really capture the magic of that song for me. However, this one came close. And throwing in the I Wanna Be Your Lover instrumental at the end was a nice touch. However, vocally, visually....Do Me, Baby wins. It’s a song that P can never not SANG on, so it usually wins vocally for me. But then the addition of the horns and the breakdown at the end just really pushed me over the edge. 

I would like to give a shoutout though to that 1999 album medley I mentioned earlier because it JAMMED and I might have yelled when I heard Automatic. Also Anotherloverholenyohead from this show was phenomenal and deserves to be mentioned. Lisa unleashed an insane piano solo that really showed off her skills. The girl is bad.

Favorite Outfit: While I do love Prince in a crop-top, I am a huge proponent of the suits from this era. Even the unforgivable shoulder pads aren’t enough to deter me. Something about Prince in a tie..... The yellow suit from Detroit is iconic. Period. In Stockholm we were greeted with a nice blue one. Both 100 cuts above. Honorable mention to the polka dot vest from both shows. The man looks like a 5 course meal in polka dots. 

Still Would Rating: Angrily. Begrudgingly. Without a shadow of a doubt and no hesitation, honey. 

Overall Rating: If you’re looking for something to lift your spirits and also groove extra hard to, either of these shows are what you need. His carefree spirit during them is contagious, and you can’t help but share in the joy he puts on display. He’s serving us some LOOKS, some ridiculous and quite frankly irresponsible onstage antics, and some of my favorite music from him (I adored both ATWIAD and Parade). As the creator of the gif directly above so eloquently put it: “ Yellow suit and the band were rocking. What’s not to like?” Indeed. 

PREVIOUSLY, PURPLE RAIN                                            NEXT UP, SOTT

[coutelier]

Another sxcerpt from my current WIP. This one continues straight on from the last excerpt I posted. I was going to put a break there and cut away to something, but it would have been to some villains talking and we’ve already got three POV characters and had a few asides at this point so I didn’t want to have another one so soon:

The signs took them to a laboratory which at first didn’t seem much more impressive than science labs at school. There were some lockers, computers, sinks, those little racks filled with tubes, and a refrigerator filled with labeled jars that probably you shouldn’t pinch no matter no hungry you were. There were a few other pieces of apparatus but one thing stood out - a console in the middle of the room with a cylinder extending from its top up to the ceiling. Jennifer went straight over to it, taking a moment to scrutinize the controls and read some data off a small monitor.

“What is it?” Kaya asked. Jen’s answer was to turn some switches. The surface of the cylinder peeled away, dropping into the console to reveal a glass water-filled tank. Inside the tank was what at first looked like a tall purple leaf, but looking closer revealed that it was actually of many fronds branching from a central stalk held closely together. “Okay,” said Kaya, “so, what is it?”

“It’s not a plant,” Jennifer told her, “There’s no photosynthesis happening in there. It’s like a Charnia - a fractal life-form from the Pre-Cambrian era.”

“Well it doesn’t look that old,” Kaya pointed out, “so is it like a clone or something?”

“Very, very unlikely. No, I think this is more like a living reproduction created here. The label calls it ‘Syn’.”

“Great name. But this thing doesn’t look all that dangerous. I don’t see what it’s got to do with invisible bark skinned creatures.”

“This might have just been the start,” Jennifer nodded toward a set of doors opposite those they had entered this room from. “We should look deeper.” They headed in that direction, Jen with her wires and tablet ready but then she paused, perplexed.

“What’s wrong now?” Kaya asked.

“I-it’s locked,” Jennifer stammered. “I mean, locked-locked. There’s no panel.”

A glance confirmed that the door was, most simply, locked. Kaya almost laughed, but the truth was she would be ashamed too if this adventure came to naught. There could well be answers in there, and all that was in her way was a few inches of metal. “You spent years studying the security and doing all that fancy computer stuff, but you never thought you might just need a key?”

“I might be able to pick it,” Jen insisted, reaching into her coat for what looked like just some pins and needles. “It’ll just take a while.”

But Kaya already saw it was futile. “You’ll never pick it open with those,” she said. “If I had my tools…” that was on her, of course. She’d left them in the wreck of her car. But there had to be something in this laboratory…

Jen peered at her old friend suspiciously again. “You’re a locksmith?” She asked incredulously.

Kaya crossed her arms and muttered, “sure. Something like that.” It seemed paradoxical to her that Jennifer, who clearly had a low opinion of her anyway, refused to just acknowledge the truth. Maybe she just wanted Kaya to say it - admit out loud what she had become. Although it was an odd circumstance in which to claim any moral high ground… there were footsteps and Kaya glimpsed a shadow moving outside. “Someone’s coming,” she whispered. There was only one option where they could hide and that was the lockers, so she quickly took Jen’s hand and dragged her over. There was a coat or two hanging inside but luckily enough room for them both to fit. Jen seemed surprised and confused, enough that she didn’t resist being stuffed inside before Kaya squeezed in beside her.

Mere seconds later the footsteps were definitely inside the lab. Then they stopped. Kaya wondered why, then… the tank! They’d left it open - a silly oversight. Sure enough they soon heard a low murmur that suggested the cylinder was going back up again. Kaya could only hope that whoever was there would assume they or some other egghead had simply forgotten to raise it earlier. There was another problem - in her haste Kaya had shoved Jennifer’s face against some fur coat and now heard her whisper, “I think I’m going to sneeze…”

“Shhh!” Kaya urged as quietly as she could. “Pinch your nose!”

But it was too late. The locker opened and Kaya found herself blinking at a tall, dark skinned woman with her hair in a bun who did not look too happy. “What are you doing in there?” The woman asked.

The only explanation Kaya could think of was, “we’re agoraphobic?”

“Get out,” the woman was obviously unsympathetic to the condition. “I’m calling security.”

That meant she hadn’t yet… and she might have a key to those doors. The woman was taller and seemed quite fit, but if Kaya got the jump on her…

“Doctor Sarkis!” Jennifer gasped with surprise matched by the woman’s own.

“Jennifer?” The doctor asked. “How… why are you here?”

“That’s,” Jen avoided eye contact but this time out of genuine guilt and fear.

“That’s complicated…”

“Well you had best start explaining,” Doctor Sarkis obliquely eyed Kaya. “Who is this?”

“Cade,” Kaya put on a friendly smile. “Kaya Cade.”

“Sounds familiar,” Doctor Sarkis thought. “Isn’t she the one who used to bully you?”

Jennifer shifted her feet furtively. “N-not the only one,” she admitted. “And it was years ago. We’re adults now.”

“Did she put you up to this?”

“No… coming here was actually my idea.”

“It’s true,” Kaya nodded, “I was ready to turn myself in to the dibbles… the police, but Jen said we’d find answers here.”

Doctor Sarkis screwed her face in confusion. “Police? What for?”

“There was a creature,” Jennifer said. “Or maybe several creatures.”

“I called it a faerie,” Kaya piped in, “but we don’t really know what it was. It was invisible.”

“An invisible creature?” It was plain the doctor was already considering what kind of medication they would need.

“Only at first,” Kaya tried to clarify. “Then it rained and it de-cloaked and was strong as hell and had some kind of bark-like skin.”

“Maybe armor,” Jen suggested. “I was able to analyze a sample of its blood and I believe it was synthetic.”

“So,” Doctor Sarkis repeated it all in head, “you think we created an invisible faerie here at the lab that somehow escaped?”

“Well,” Kaya shrugged sheepishly, “it kind of sounds a bit mad when you say it like that.”

“It’s impossible,” Sarkis said, turning from them. “You’ve already seen Syn, I presume. We’ve had some success reproducing simple organisms but a creature like you’re describing is far beyond what anyone has done.”

“That’s not the same as impossible,” Jennifer gently pointed out.

“No,” Doctor Sarkis conceded, “but this is the most advanced genetic engineering facility in the world and it’s taken us decades to get this far. For anyone to have created an organism capable of acting freely would not only be unethical but they’d have skipped thousands of steps testing and understanding what they were doing. No one would be so reckless.”

Jen answered bitterly, “Alvin Stag would be…”

“Even if that were true, he answers to Meridiem now and I doubt they’d allow him to do anything that could prove costly to them.”

Kaya was missing out on a whole lot here. She knew that Alvin Stag founded this company and that Jennifer never liked him - she perhaps suspected him of having something to do with what happened to her parents. But Kaya still had so many questions, so she decided to start with what was in front of her. “Excuse me,” she said, raising a hand. “What, exactly, is it that you’re doing here? What’s that thing in the jar?”

Doctor Sarkis looked between the two intruders. After a moments consideration she seemed to resign herself. “Synthetic biology,” she said, revealing ‘the jar’ once more. “The next step in genetic engineering. Syn wasn’t modified from an existing organism. We designed and wrote her entire genome on the computers here, then implanted that code into a synthetic cell and allowed it to grow. Simple, really, although the creation of artificial cells capable of self-replication, that can be complicated.”

“But why?” Kaya asked. “What’s it for?”

“Use your imagination,” Jennifer chided, “there’s no end to all the good you could do. Plants that can absorb and recycle greenhouse gases, crops that can grow in any environment, bacteria that can clean up waste. Medicine, biofuel, space travel, terraforming… if perfected, the only limits to this are your imagination.” “Most of our work is with single celled organisms,” Doctor Sarkis nodded, “with focus on bioremediation and medicine.”

“Okay,” Kaya nodded along as well. She actually got it, but it seemed to her they were avoiding something obvious. “So all of that is what good Jen would do. But, what about evil Jen?”

There was a long moment of silence before Jen answered. “You could create a virus…”

“That’s why we’ve kept all this from the public,” Doctor Sarkis tried to assure them. “Yes, in the wrong hands someone could make a devastating weapon, but nothing happens in this lab without the approval of myself and an ethical committee.”

“But this wasn’t always your lab.”

“Before me this was your father’s work. Syn was his creation. He believed he could create a better world, not just for you, but for every human.”

Jennifer never argued with her dad. If he believed in what he was doing then there was no doubt she would as well. But, “what about Stag?” She asked. “He’s an ass,” Doctor Sarkis admitted, “but he doesn’t interfere with us. All he cares about is our progress and patents. This was your father’s work… you should see it all. Come.”

The doctor left them to open the inner doors, leaving Kaya alone with Jennifer for a moment. She slid next to her friend whispering and grinning, “you know her, then?”

“Yes,” Jen nodded. “I’ve known Jana for years.”

“So, we didn’t actually need to break in here at all? You could have just asked her to let us in?”

“Well,” Jennifer puffed indignantly, “I-I didn’t know she would be working now. Besides, I didn’t want to get her into trouble.”

Kaya made a motion as if to strangle her, but Jennifer squeaked and quickly escaped to follow the doctor. Kaya had no choice but to swallow her frustration and follow as well.

[wastelandpizzas]

Walls: pt. 1

As we continue the journey through the personal take of SS Shaun Park Sr. And his attempt to find his son, We find the General of the Minutemen at headquarters in Fort Independence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alright, Perkins, Garvey, on three!”

“One… Two… Three!!!” With one last shove we finished getting the last piece of the new, albeit temporary, north wall into place. It had been a grueling days work- though we had been restless from two days worth of waiting. The timbers from the thickets near Sanctuary had just arrived before dawn after a couple days worth of logging and cutting before Preston and I had even thought to head down to the Castle. The caravaneers had a hell of a time trying to manage the three Brahmin it took to haul enough lumber to do anything with. Being that the Commonwealth was, well, for lack of a better description, the Commonwealth, I was shocked to hear that Raiders, Gunners, and even Super Mutants stayed away from the caravan. It wasn’t everyday that a twelve man caravan went tromping through the Commonwealth, and much less frequent that it had a significant guard and still made it to its destination unscathed. One Brahmin master, two hands, and nine Minutemen, two of which were two of the same party from our raid on the Corvega plant earlier last month after another small group of raiders tried to hole themselves up in the old factory.

Preston had been on watch since three that morning looking for signs of our supply caravan on the south road and his face, since lunch, showed it. When they finally arrived, we had them use what cement we had salvaged from the breaking up the rubble over the entrance to the Castle’s tunnels to lay a foundation for the barracks and while the cement dried we started laying whole blocks along the edge of the wall and began to mortar them around the foundation. We had worked on putting up the wall frames for a couple hours after the cement hardened, and we were ready for a break. The two other weary Minuteman plopped down onto the ruined stone blocks off inside the fort, and after a quick look over the day’s work I joined them.

“Well, you really did mean that the walls needed work, didn’t you, General.” Preston took a long draught from his canteen before getting his words out.

“I did say that, didn’t I,” I followed Preston’s example and sat down to take a long breather. We finally had a wall set up on our northeast portion of the old star fort, the most vulnerable face to the greenskins over at the old Gwinnett pub. If I played the caravaneers right The Castle would have a new stone, or at least cement, wall to provide as a more permanent repair than the improvised barracks that our third builder, Captain Vern Perkins, brought to that rank after taking the killing shot of the Mirelurk Queen that had decided our headquarters looked as good a place as any to settle down, had planned to set up. We had plans to clear the rubble from the Northeast Bastion’s tunnel entry and try to cut a tunnel and new quarters when we had everything finished up, but that was arguably another year or two away. It took quite a bit of sweet talking, and frankly caps out the ass, but that nerve Mirna had finally agreed to set aside any cement or salvaged stone that her junkers and suppliers brought in to the city, 2500 caps upfront and 150 for each of the days she shipped more than 50 pounds our way. Cement, bricks and stone in Diamond City came at a premium given the state of the Fens after 211 years of direpair.

To make a long story short. the Minutemen were on the way to recovery. It had been nearly a year and a half since Quincy and since I had left the Vault. To say the least, we had what had once been the Northern suburbs of Boston aiding, enlisting, and paying into the Minutemen. It was something; we had a crew of 12 Regulars running active patrols around Sanctuary and the trading post and market at Starlight Drive-In which was only possible because 4 of those patrol men had cleared the Mole-rats living there once we had established Sanctuary as the main hub of the Minutemen north of Cambridge and Boston-proper, not to mention mounting support in the Fens. Hell we even had some a few Minutemen vets sent our way from somebody called Hancock over in Scollay Square. Though I hear it’s called Goodneighbor now, when I listen to the boys talk about it.​

I must have been daydreaming at that point, because Preston’s hand clapping on my shoulder brought me back to.

“General, do think we’re done for today?”

“I’m not sure, Preston,” I started. Noticing Vern had made his way back to the radio tower for a minute, I called at him,

“Perkins, what’s going on?”

“Not sure, sir, radio just went haywire there for a second” Preston helped me up and I started heading​ over to the tower myself to see what was going on when one of the guards posted on the southwest bastion hollered at us three.

“General, Colonel Garvey, you’re going to want to see this!” I must have caught a second wind because I bolted straight up the rubble of the western wall to join the soldier who immediately just pointed out over at the parking lot and handed me his binoculars.

I saw what looked like a shimmer of bright blue for a second and did a double take when I saw what emerged. Something that looked like a tan-ish grey skinned, plastic man in what appeared to be combat armor of some kind. I had never seen anything quite like it before, and boy was I curious.

“Can you tell me what I’m looking at, soldier?” after Preston got a look he said something that reminded me of a conversation I had with a certain reporter.

“I haven’t seen one so heavily armored before, but the color gives it right away. General, that’s an Institute synth. That caravan was damn lucky they left a couple hours ago.”

I had heard a great deal about the Institute from Miss Piper, and if stories were to be believed, the Institute was the shadow over the Commonwealth that everyone feared. And with good reason, I had taken the opportunity to have someone scout out University Point and they reported crops still in the field, shops relatively untouched, but no people, no bodies, and no trace other than their material goods that people had even been there. He had found an old holotape at one of the terminals on the fringe of the ghost town and gave it to me upon his return. I hadn’t looked at it just yet but I figured -after seeing a genuine Institute construct- that it was as good a time as any to give the files a once over.

Once we were sure the lone synth wasn’t gunning for us, I jogged down the rubble slope back to my backpack sitting over by one of our building workbenches on the northeastern wall. It took a minute of digging to find the tape labeled U.Point. but when I did and popped it in I was enthralled.

It was a personal diary, it looked to have went back up to two years or so before I left the vault, roughly 2285. I sifted through the years worth of writing and a saw, close to the end a someone mention a mercenary, and that piqued my curiosity at first. I was intrigued on who this man the journal referenced was at first, then I realized I recognized the description, the newest face to haunt my sleep. A nearly bald man with a noticeable scar across the left side of his face wearing a leather jacket with short cut sleeves and an improvised piece of shoulder armor. Supposedly he came around for a few days asking about any significant technology that the town knew about. And by the looks of the writing he came back with friends, the well armed kind. That child thieving bastard sold those bastards to the Institute. I unclipped my Pip-Boy and threw it into my backpack.

I must have been perusing the journal longer than I thought I had, because the sun was now setting in between the skyscrapers of downtown. I didn’t want to go to bed thinking about the massacre. I still had plenty of those dreams from the 2060s and the war with China and needed something to distract myself, so I relieved our night watchman once I had grabbed a bite to eat after the night fell. After a quick route across the walls and some of the scaffolding, I sat down next to the broken down artillery-piece on the northwest bastion. I looked over at the parking lot where the synth had shown up. Seeing a light flicker around a couple times, I wondered if I could make an easy target of the metal man, but after a closer look it was some dogs that got ahold of the synth and his gun. I couldn’t vent my rage against my son’s kidnapper and I wasn’t about to do something rash like rushing out into a pack of feral dogs.

I just wanted to seethe out every little bit of anger I had pent up at that bastard and get on with putting a bullet in his brain, after he led me to my son.

But for all the rage in the world, it wouldn’t bring Nora back. If I just had her with me, I’d not be this damned mess. Together we would have found Junior. With her keeping me focused I wouldn’t get caught by every bleeding heart farmer who was dealing with raider issues or the honest to God threats of this post-apocalyptic, radioactive, barely recovering wasteland. Though thinking it through, it was better that she didn’t see this, see me like this.

“Hey, General, I noticed you were still up” Preston seemingly popped out of nowhere with a couple beers

“Holy shit, Preston, don’t sneak up on me like that.” it was the second time he had caught me unawares that day, Im damn glad we hadn’t gone out to find some raiders or patrol the Fens and Hangman’s Alley. As off as I was then I was no good even for watch.

“You looked a little distracted after you read that holotape from U. Point. There something you gotta say?” I’d say this about Preston, he’s a good squad commander, and he’s got a way of telling when a man needs a beer.

[kimnamsjoon]

Hey bee! I saw your last post and was wondering why you don't like halsey?

heyo. 

I actually wasn’t planning on answering this just because like, I don’t really wanna play a game of your fav’s problematic tonight but, you know, I also don’t wanna ignore you so I’ll just give a quick summary below the cut ig. it’s kind of long bc we all know I love to ramble, just…. fair warning ig.

Let me start out by saying that I used to look up to Halsey a lot. Like… she’a bipolar bisexual girl…. I’m a bisexual, borderline, non-binary girl… like…. I felt represented and a lot of her music, as edgy as it is, helped me through some very unstable, not happy times in my life. And so I looked up to her and admired her. Let me also just stay up front that I’ve got no receipts for this shit. I’ll link to some screenshots of her deleted tweets, but the thing is is that when she’s called out…. she deletes the tweets, makes a fake ass “I didn’t mean it” tweet, and then deletes that when everything’s blown over, which makes it really hard to prove shit. But also let me say that a large part of what I’m about to summarize in my “reasons I no longer personally support Halsey” thing down below, I experienced first hand. I followed both her and the girl she ostracized on twitter, I saw the way she treated the girl, and it’s absolutely what drove me to stop supporting her.Which brings me to what exactly happened. This was, I don’t know, a year ago? My memory in general is really fuzzy (props to mental illness for that one) so I don’t have like a general time frame other than “idk a year ago, maybe two” so I apologize for that. I don’t have specific tweets and I don’t even remember the fans twitter account that suffered but like, it happened and I’m sure others out there witnessed it too. I feel like it was really big on twitter for a minute, but maybe that’s just ‘cause I followed the girl and Halsey so it felt big??? anyways, this was around the time that Halsey was (rightfully) being criticized for repeatedly making out with minors during her concerts. I don’t think I have to explain why that’s wrong, but just in case: minors cannot consent to adults, and even if they could, she didn’t ask if they consented prior to shoving her tongue down their throats; she didn’t even ask age, and if she asked anything at all, it was “are you single?” Furthermore, who’s going to say no to a kiss at a concert in front of hundreds, if not thousands of people? Could you imagine the pressure, and could you imagine the backlash from jealous fans? It’s just all around dubious, and it one-hundred percent made me uncomfortable, especially since I was still in high school myself at the time.  (and for other deeply personal reasons you can ask me about ((privately)) if u really wanna know but im not  tryna get into that here).But I still supported Halsey because I looked up to her, and the fans she had kissed has said they wanted it/would have consented. It made me uncomfortable, especially since she’s tweeted things like this [x] in the past, but I was in a very bad place mentally at the time, and her music  was a great help to me so I wasn’t ready to accept that the girl I looked up and thought so highly of was so… trashy.   Anyways, there was another (minor, as in, a minor) fan, the one I followed, that felt like me, which is to say she didn’t really know how to feel about it. She was uncomfortable, especially since she was a minor, but she really looked up to  Halsey. And she made a tweet about it, I don’t remember the specifics, and as far as I know the girl has since deleted her twitter from being bullied so badly by Halsey’s fans, but it was something along the lines of “this halsey thing makes me uncomfortable” but in a lot more words. She didn’t even mention Halsey, had the whole H.alsey thing goin’ and everything and was a huge Halsey fan. And Halsey got ahold of it, somehow despite the girl having a whopping 120-somethin’ followers, and retweeted it to her followers, complaining that the girl COULD have messaged her privately to discuss this. It was… really extra.Anyways, I think we all know what comes next, right? Fans, of any variety, are super fuckin’ protective of their favs, and they really know how to act like rabid dogs when they want to. They absolutely destroyed this poor girl, a minor, and she was begging Halsey to tell them to stop because she’s mentally ill, it’s giving her panic attacks, she’s not okay. It’s really messy and really awful, especially because the girl didn’t even say anything negative about Halsey in the first damn place. And Halsey’s response was, basically, “well i’m mentally ill too, and i dont control them”. The poor girl ended up shifting gears and just asking Halsey to delete the retweets, which still sat proudly on Halsey’s timeline, right up top, and Halsey downright refused. She played a whole ass victim card because a minor was uncomfortable with her making out with other minors, and then did absolutely nothing to stop her fans from attacking a minor. I ended up unfollowing the girl and Halsey that night because it was TOO much for me, a mentally ill myself, to handle. I’ve got BPD, and it was just… it was too much for me. I couldn’t stan her after that, and I definitely couldn’t listen to her music after that. After this incident died down (maybe a week later?) is around the time people started digging up her problematic tweets. I was starting to feel like maybe I wanted to like Halsey? You know, she was actually, truthfully going through some serious shit at the time, and she’s mentally ill herself, which mental illness is never an excuse to be a shitty fucking person, but I understand exactly what that’s like, so It was hard to fault her when I’ve been there myself??? Anyways, I mentioned earlier that I’m nonbinary. More specifically, I identify as genderfluid (she/they/he pronouns are all okay! I’m not pronoun specific), but I spend a very large amount of time on the male/masc side of the spectrum (which is why I go by Bee! It’s very androgynous, unlike Brenna, and so it doesn’t aggravate my dysphoria when im feeling masc). I’m not exactly out, and I definitely wasn’t back then, so I didn’t start presenting masc until literally right around the time all this drama cropped up. And… a lot of boys, and some girls that were into me, weren’t exactly into that, and I got called the tr*nny slur a lot, which didn’t help and…. can you guess what came out about Halsey? lmaoYeah, she was exposed for using the t-slur, and it really, really fucking hurt. There’s literally nothing worse than someone you look up to using slurs meant to hurt you. It’s literally the worse. And instead of apologizing and admitting she was wrong, she said “well, I was young” and used that as an excuse. and sure, being young can be a valid response… when you’re a kid. But she wasn’t a kid, and she was definitely old enough to know that fucking tr*nny was and is not an okay thing to say, so…. anyways, if she had just genuinely apologized and said she was wrong, it wouldn’t have been so bad, but she just deflected the whole thing and then deleted the tweet when no one was looking. Here’s a screen shot for anyone curious. [x]

Since this mess, a lot more has been exposed about her that has really cemented my disinterest for her, but listen, I’m not a detective and I’m not digging up sources for you. Just google Halsey + problematic, I’m sure someone’s done the work for you. I stopped paying attention to her after the tr*nny thing, so I don’t even know the specifics to tell you if I wanted lmao.  

So that’s like, that. It’s all very anecdotal, i know, but you asked why I, personally, disliked her and that’s why. yea,,,,