#love how without context she looks shy and bashful but in context she's just being a big ho for free food

[too-destiny-panda]

Wyllvember Day 18: OTP

A/N: This prompt just gave me the excuse to talk about Wyll and my Tav lol. For those that have read my other ficlets for Wyllvember, this is the Tav I have in mind in all of them, if mentioned. I didn't give my Tav a name, because although I love her to pieces, I would rather not name drop an OC that I will likely never bring up again in a different context. Prompts are posted by @sagscrib, additionally tagging @commander-yinello WC: 782

Wyll never thought he would be able to settle down in peace, at least not since he had signed a pact with Mizora. He resigned himself to forever adventuring, forever roaming without proper home, and when he eventually died, to forever belonging to the blue devil. And although he desperately wished there was a way to change that, he came to terms with his seemingly unchangeable fate. Until he was thrown into the turbulent circumstance of having a parasite stuck to his brain. That’s when the first slivers of hope, of change began to appear.

They were subtle at first. Slight whispers of longing in his heart he attributed to fellowship, eyes following their leader's every movement, the curve of her face as she sat by the fire, that he attributed to curiosity. But the lingering touches when he helped her up, the unconscious smile when she chuckled at his stories, the fluttering of his heart when she shyly revealed a piece of her childhood, entrusting him with the memory. That was no coincidence. And so, he tried to spend more time with her. He would stay up later than usual to sit with her while on watch, to either whisper conversation or simply observe the human woman as she mended arrows or read. He couldn’t help but admire her warm eyes, the curve of her lips, the way her hands nimbly moved with practised ease as she busied themselves in the quiet of the night. That was when he first admitted to himself there may have been more to the ceaseless warmth in his chest than friendship.

When he asked the ranger to dance, her nervous smile and uncertain movements almost made him worry he overstepped despite their earlier kiss at the party, but as she accepted his hand after displaying dancing skills only taught to nobles, it was almost as if everything fell into place. He may not know more about her than the nickname, Tav, she called herself or the tidbits of their previous adventures she sometimes shared, but he knew right there and then as they looked into each other’s eyes that this was the person his heart longed for. This was the peace he dreamed about.

Later, right before they parted ways for the night, Tav pulled him closer to press one final, soft kiss to his lips, and whispered her name into the air as they parted, those golden brown eyes betraying vulnerability, and he almost couldn’t contain the waves of affection that came over him then.

Slowly, as their journey progressed, the mysterious ranger made an effort to stop being so mysterious, at least around him. Wyll felt incredibly giddy that she was dropping her walls because of him, for him. Of course, the others began learning about their leader more as well, but that was byproduct of traveling with others in such proximity. He didn’t mind. The blush that sometimes overtook those cheeks and the bashful lack of eye contact was his doing, after all. And eventually, during one of their evening cuddle sessions, he pieced together that she was the shy, socially awkward wallflower he danced with at one of the masquerades, her lovely giggles, breathtaking dancing and admissions about how sunflowers were one of their most beloved flowers leaving him with a strong enough impression that everyone else paled in comparison since that day. He made sure to ask Halsin to druidcraft him one later to give to her.

They became the subject of everyone’s teasing as well, because even though they did their best to not engage in anything lovey-dovey outside of camp, the looks, and smiles, as well as protectiveness in battle could only be described as devotion. Of  course, while in camp there were no such restrictions, and although Tav was more comfortable with being affectionate in private, she didn’t stop him from holding her close while eating or from holding her hand as they talked. According to Astarion, the pair almost make him starve himself from the pure amount of ‘tooth-rotting fluff his palate is subjected to’. And although the elf was prone to dramatics, the Blade supposes his description wasn't entirely inaccurate.

But that didn’t bother him. Because when they finally had a tavern floor all to themselves, the sweet nothings they whispered, the soft touches they bestowed upon him, the praise about his very being that rolled of their tongue almost mindlessly during one of his rougher nights was something Wyll Ravengard would cherish for the rest of his existence, whatever that may be. Because now, his peaceful fate was holding him in their arms and stroking his back absentmindedly and that was all he could ask for.

[winderlylandchime]

Hi, hello, hi. I have a question that was triggered by that beautiful prom gif set you just reblogged. And since I still, months later, have a post from you stuck in my head- The Brian Kinney one about his education and how he became The Brian Kinney- I can’t help but to ask you. The pause!!! What do you think would’ve happened between Britin and with Brian after prom had the bashing not happened? I mean Brian got in the car and was all smiley and looking in the mirror to watch Justin!! And the PAUSE! And now I am going through a million feelings because of the what ifs.

Hello dear sweet anon! Thank you for your patience while I gave this question some thought.

First off, let us acknowledge and thank @sophsun1 for this incredible gifset that captures THEE MOMENT

Everyone go reblog it and show it some love.

So I think the first question here is why did Brian show up at prom? I think he showed up to make Justin happy. Which is not something Brian is known for, right? But here is this kid who has "snuck in under the wire" (I know that's S2 but it's no less true here) and Brian wants to do something to make him happy. Just purely for his happiness. And it will make Brian happy - you pointed out he's all smiley - and isn't that the kicker? He found someone that making him happy makes Brian happy. Not Justin makes Brian happy (little nod to my beloved OFMD, RIP), but making Justin happy makes Brian happy. I think that's important.

I think what Brian is communicating here (and, importantly, Justin is understanding) is those three words that Justin spent later seasons wanting so badly.

So I think Justin would have felt more reassured in Brian's love than he did in S2. I think he always wanted to feel like his place was with Brian and of Brian's own volition. I know Brian says during their negotiation about "coming home to you" but I think that gets lost in Brian's tugging to keep some of his freedoms.

I think Brian would be less trigger shy about doing romantic gestures for Justin after prom. I think prom proved to Brian his worst fears - if you make yourself vulnerable and admit to loving someone, it will only hurt you (and what's the best way to hurt Brian? Hurting Justin).

I think Justin would have been more confident about his place in Brian's life both feeling like he was truly wanted there (not just there because he got bashed) and because he had this irrefutable proof of Brian's feelings. Yes, he's heard about the romantic dance and the kiss from Daphne but she wasn't by the Jeep and I don't know if she would have picked up on the significance of The Pause.

Let's talk about that, actually. When has Brian ever paused? When has he ever, in a sexual context, sought someone's eyes before kissing them? (Not to imply that Brian didn't get consent.) Never. He is not the type of guy to pause. He barrels forward. I don't think the pause is insecurity or even about consent, it's "we're on the same page here, right? okay? All those things you said that I felt, you were right. Here I am, baring myself before you you, more naked than being naked (bc lbr naked is not vulnerability to Brian... it wouldn't be to me if I looked like Gale either), showing you my soul. I am trusting you."

The reason this took so long to answer is that I'm completely torn about whether there would have been a break up. Or at least the Ethan break up. Maybe the break up would have looked more like a combination of S2 and S5 break ups. But the other thing? I don't think they would have reunited. I think the bashing is something that ties them together, in a sense. I think without it, with everything more on the surface, without the effects of PTSD on Justin's abilities and his need for Brian's care (and Brian's care bonding him to Justin), Justin would have thought "this is all there is, I've gotten everything I can from him and I need more." But I could be wrong, maybe there would have been zero drama. Justin would have gotten what he needed from Brian the night of prom and they would have lived happily ever after.

This is certainly a fic waiting to be written. I've read fics where the bashing doesn't happen or it's less severe but that's because other circumstances are different. What would happen if canon is canon but the one divergence is the bashing doesn't happen?

[bunny-does-a-thing]

Huevember day 12 ft. Mount Lady! Original cap by @mha-transparents

[jungxk]

crush

filed under. i totally forgot i wrote this. also i like the name eunmi sue me 

notes. thank you to @lonelyending for reading thru this crusty story and making me feel good enough about it again to post it. also @suga-kookiemonster bc im pretty sure i sent u this like a year ago and u told me to post it it but....i forgot abt it shdgjsgd. writing/life in general has been hard recently so pls accept this kookfic to hold yous over until i update just one

genre. fluff, light comedy, light angst, smut

warnings. smut (oral sex: f receiving, penetrative unprotected sex) 

length. 5.1k

the first thing jungkook thinks when he sees you is wow.

he hasn't been up for very long, and you don't even know he's looking at you through the window. yoongi-hyung has wrapped you up in his arms as you sob and sob, muted behind the protective hospital glass. even with messy hair and wet eyes he's starstruck. it's why he recoils slightly when jimin and namjoon explain to him that you're his wife.

"my," he can't even say the word. "my..."

"your wife," namjoon repeats. "you know what a wife is, right? marriage?"

"yes," jungkook huffs, digging his nails into his scalp. "i lost my memory, hyung, not my fucking brain cells." 

he suddenly registers the gold band glistening on his left hand, simple and heavy. he has to take a second to collect himself. "but...but i'm twenty-three. right? i am twenty-three, yeah?"

"yeah. you are," jimin says softly.

"then how the fuck am i already married? not that i'm complaining i just," he suddenly turns pink at the thought of you in a wedding dress, clinging onto his arm, breakfast dates, late night ramen runs at the convenience store, painting the living room in a house you probably share, naked in bed on top of him. jungkook clears his throat. "it just seems a little out of character for me. i can't commit to a pair of shoes for a week let alone-"

"i think it's best if you just spoke with ____," jimin finishes before jungkook can work himself into a frenzy, a comforting hand laying on his shoulder. "you two need to talk anyway and it's best if all these answers came from her."

jungkook gulps at the thought of speaking to you, seeing you face to face. suddenly he's a cripplingly shy fourteen year old again.

"okay." he croaks. "okay."

x

x

x

you were even more beautiful up close.

your tear stained cheeks are glowing and blotchy when you perch on the chair beside his bed, big eyes fluttering up at him nervously. you're soft and plush and shorter than he thought and jungkook has to fist his hands in the sheets and play a counting game with the heart rate monitor in order to maintain eye contact. he feels himself start to sweat when you smile sadly at him. "sorry, i just...i don't know how to be around you normally without making you uncomfortable," you say quietly, wringing your hands together to avoid touching him.

"uncomfortable?" he queries, gaze latching onto the ring on your hand. seeing it on you gives him a nice feeling.

you nod into your lap. "yeah, um..." you look at your scuffed shoes, searching for the word. "we're usually very...touchy."

he can feel himself turning red again. "t-touchy?"

you meet his eyes and a pretty smile breaks over your face at how bashful he looks, making jungkook's cheeks tinge even pinker than they already are. you nod cutely so your earrings tinkle, eyes shining, and suddenly he understands without any context why he fell in love with you, why he married you so young. you let a comfortable silence settle over the room before taking a deep breath, bracing yourself. "how much do you remember, jungkook?"

he tries not to cave under the weight of his guilt. "not a lot about...you, that is," he finishes with a wince, your sad eyes immediately making him wilt with shame. "i remember everything up until a couple of years ago. we had a show at the japanese dome, debuted in america, and then...nothing. and now..."

"and now," you echo softly. your eyes look distant, staring at the floor.

"i'm sorry," jungkook whispers, chin touching his chest. "hyung told me...they all told me how much i loved you and...and i'm sorry i don't remember any of it. i'm so sorry."

you shake your head gently. "don't be sorry, jungkook-ah," the pet name makes his ears perk up. its a familiar, calming sound. "none of this is your fault. you didn't ask to get hit by that car." your expression turns remorseful, tugging at his heart. "if anything, this is because of me. the only reason you were out was because i asked you to go and get eggs and formula even though i should've remembered to pick some up on the way home and-"

"no, no! please don't blame yourself," jungkook tries, wishing he was close enough or even brave enough to take your hand. you look up at him and he catches a glimpse of the endless pool of love you harbour for him, like a punch to the chest. "i don't ever want you thinking this was your fault. so ple-" he pauses. "wait, formula?"

the door bursts open before he can finish, pitter patter steps rounding his bed until it reaches the other side, where you sit. a little girl with big dark eyes and curls of dark hair stares at him in wonder and elation, her cheeks dimpling just like yours before she screeches, "appa!"

jungkook's mouth goes dry. appa?

you're quick to intervene, putting yourself in the toddlers path to scoop her up in your arms. her grabby little hands struggle over your shoulder, fingers wriggling in attempt to get as close to jungkook as possible. he only stares with wide eyes and an open mouth, heart hammering in his chest when he sees the uncanny resemblances: his round nose. your brown skin but just a twinge fairer. his hooded eyes. and his stomach lurches.

"shhh, eunmi," you coo as you carry her away even with her squirming. "remember what i said before? appa is sick. appa is sick, baby-"

"we have a child?" jungkook wheezes, eyes starting to glaze over. there's a bout of silence when you look back at him guiltily, the baby's fumbling grinding to a halt when she registers the tension in the air. jungkook's breath is barely a whisper. "is that my daughter?"

your face crumples with a fresh bout of tears and eunmi looks on worriedly. she pushes her little lips into your cheek in a baby's kiss, like she's seen her father do so many times to get your attention. the word "amma," is muffled into your skin until you get yourself together and press a short kiss to her head.

yoongi rushes in, face twisted in apology. "i swear to god i turned around for one minute and-"

"it's okay, yoongi," you say quietly, stroking the baby's head. "eunmi, stay with uncle just a bit longer, okay? amma will be back in a minute..."

"appa," she whines over your shoulder, reaching for jungkook who sits helplessly in his bed. he watches with tears wetting his eyelashes, heart twisting in agony at the sight of his child he doesn't remember stretching her arms out for him. she begins to cry when he doesn't react or coo her. like he used to.

"take her, yoongi," you say shakily, passing the baby to him. the sound of eunmi's crying makes your heart shatter all over again, yoongi's quiet hushing doing nothing to qualm her sobbing as the heavy door closes behind them.

the silence that falls between the two of you is nothing short of excruciating. jungkook's head spins, completely overwhelmed: is that why you both got married so young? because of a child? was this why jimin and namjoon wouldn't say a damn thing about his life until he spoke to you first?

and then all the other questions that followed: was he a good father? when was his daughter's birthday? did she like kimchi and banana milk too? did he sing to her? read to her often?

would she ever forgive him for not being able to remember her?

"her name is eunmi," you say, looking down at the floor when jungkook starts to cry.

x

x

x

jungkook doesn't understand how his baby could be so pretty. she's golden brown like those sandy beaches on postcards, with chubby cheeks and twinkling dark eyes that resemble yours to a t, and that's when he realises of course she's beautiful. she's yours. you balance eunmi on your hip while you make coffee - decaf, since you're still weaning - and despite the amnesia jungkook feels like he's been here before, in this warm, happy place that is the kitchen.

"she got your nose though," you remind him, dumping the baby in his lap upon her fussing. she always seemed to wind down under his touch, and although nervous about the sudden responsibility of fatherhood, jungkook is compelled to give it. eunmi doesn't understand anything's changed so he doesn't see why he should act like it. "she's whiny before her milk too. like you."

"hey!" he retorts, but can't exactly defend himself. he twirls his fingers around her curly pigtails until she catches on and tries to stand on his thighs, reaching for his hair to yank. jungkook lets her. he's barely known his daughter a week and he's already so smitten he'd let her gut him open with a butter knife.

"she missed you, you know. when you were in hospital all this time," you say, making him look up to watch you stare into your drink. the fear still lingers in your eyes, faint and persistent. he can see it every time you look at him and it makes his body yearn to touch you like he once did, like he once would have before his brain unlearned everything his heart didn't. you laugh while watching eunmi pull his hair again, making him hiss. "even yoongi tried but no one coddles her as much as you."

"really?" he asks, face lighting up. he's so happy to hear that. jungkook hates the way the question bubbles up in the back of his throat, like it'd make a difference or it'd change how he felt. but he has to ask it. "is that why...is that why we got married so early, then?" he says, trying to sound as offhand as possible. "because of eunmi?"

you chew your lip. "yeah. i mean, you said it wasn't a big deal. because you were going to marry me eventually so it didn't make a difference, but...it doesn't really matter i guess, because that's not what everyone else thinks," you pause, tracing the rim of your mug again. "that's certainly not what your fans think."

jungkook doesn't even want to think about it. the backlash, the gossip, the name calling and dehumanisation. for the first time in his life jungkook couldn't give less of a shit about his reputation. "i'm sorry," he says, feeling like the word has lost meaning by now with how much he's said it. "i'm so sorry. not for this, for us or for eunmi. i don't regret any of that i just," he shifts the baby in his lap, still getting used to her weight. "i can only imagine what you went through."

you look a bit bewildered. "...you said that last time too." you smile again reassuringly. "please don't feel solely responsible, kook-ah. you didn't exactly get me pregnant on your own."

he flushes tomato red and you giggle at him until eunmi joins in too.

x

x

x

jungkook can't keep his eyes off you while you play with the baby, comb out her hair, sing her lullabies while you bathe her together. he'd always wanted a whirlwind romance as a teen and it looks like he finally got it, because he can feel himself fall head first in love with you (all over again). it didn’t make sense for someone to be so collected and easygoing after having motherhood forced onto you so abruptly. you tell him often that he's a picture-perfect dad, but jungkook still doubts he compares.

"does she need a change?" he asks, struggling to keep all of eunmi's wriggling limbs in his grip.

"nope, just hungry," you say, reaching out when he passes the baby to you. you're about to stand up and go to the guest room to feed her, but jungkook is already arranging the pillows next to him for you, grabbing a baby cloth on the side too.

"do you need another pillow?" he muses aloud, but he's already grabbing the ones on his side of the bed before you can answer, forming a wedge for you to sit nicely beside him. he looks up at you when you fail to move. "are you okay?"

"yeah i, um," you chew your lip nervously. "you don't...mind me feeding here?"

you immediately regret the question once it leaves your mouth. jungkook's crestfallen expression hits you right in the stomach, round eyes glittering up at you. he hasn't looked this upset since he woke up nearly a month ago. "why would i ever mind?”

"oh jungkook," you sniff, sitting beside him. he pulls you into the nest of pillows beside him, arm winding protectively around your shoulders. your eyes brim with sympathy tears, tired and angry and upset with treating him like a stranger.

"if i make you feel uncomfortable, i can go," he offers quietly. "if it makes you feel weird i understand..."

"no, not at all," you rush to stop him, suddenly realising how close you are. you could kiss his pink little lips if you just tilted your head up. "i just didn't want to make you feel weird. all this new stuff is happening to you, you're suddenly a husband and a father with no recollection of signing up or it and i just...i don't know how much you want to invest the second time around," you scramble to finish your sentence when he pins you with a concerned expression. “as in, i understand if you don’t want to make the same choice twice. it’s a big decision.”

he shakes his head dismissively. there wasn't a thing in the world that could make him turn his back on his family but it looked like you still needed convincing. he peers at you curiously when you position the baby. "so i can stay?"

you smile at him eagerly. "of course," you undo the nursing strap of your bra before the baby finally latches. "i actually prefer it when you're here. it makes me feel safe."

jungkook watches quietly while you hum for the baby, playing with her little hand while she drinks. the adoration seeps out of him in waves, how serene you look while you rock her, how angelic eunmi looks while she blinks her big doll eyes up at you both. she won't stay this little forever. he feels so overwhelmed by it, gathering you further in his arms with the urge to hold his family in his hands like a diamond. you don't question the little sniffles jungkook buries into your hair, resting your head on his shoulder wordlessly. you missed being held by him, missed his cotton scent and gentle breath.

"i love her so much," he whispers into the shell of your ear, entranced by the baby's little gurgles and gulps. he reaches out to run his knuckle over the velvet of her cheek, round and stuffed with milk. "i feel like i'll die, i love her so much."

"me too," you smile. "it was scary and hard for a long time but...i'm so glad we had her. i wouldn't trade her for anything."

you feel jungkook's lips trace your temple, heart stuttering upon the sudden contact. you hear what he doesn’t say: i wouldn't trade either of you.

x

x

x

"why are you so sweaty?" jimin scowls, noting the dark patches under jungkook's t-shirt when he tries to take the baby from his arms. "it's not even humid today."

jungkook doesn't do anything but gulp and cuddle a sleeping eunmi closer to his chest. she's become somewhat of a security blanket for him; even if she wasn't awake to play, he was always itching to hold her and nuzzle into her head when he's tense or embarrassed. like now.

"leave him alone, you know he sweats when he's shy," yoongi grins.

"stop it," jungkook mumbles.

"shy? what for?"

"because he's got a crush on his wife," namjoon snickers, knowing jungkook would whack him one if his arms weren't around his kid. "why are you looking at me like that? it's true!"

"but you can't just say it! she'll hear!" he hisses.

"you're married," jimin deadpans but it only makes the younger boy curl in on his baby more. "god, this reminds of when you two met. remember how he used to hide behind manager hyung every time ____ came in? and then i had to listen to them fuck in the next room for a year only to end up back here all over again-"

"jungkook," you call. "where did these come from?" you walk into the sitting room with a bouquet of yellow roses nestled in your arms. "did a fan send them? i didn't see a note they were just on the worktop-"

"th-those are for you," he mumbles. "i got those for you."

you look so pretty when you stare it makes him sweat harder and the three older boys all but burst a vein in their head trying not to laugh when leaving the room. there's an awkward silence where you clutch the flowers and he clutches the baby. "thank you," you say finally. "they're beautiful, i love the colour yellow..."

his big doe eyes round up to look at you even though the lower half of his face is smushed into pigtails. "you're welcome."

"can i kiss you?" you blurt out, too fast to stop it. your cheeks are still stinging and you're pretty sure you have baby powder in your hair but jungkook looks at you with awe as he nods so vigorously his earrings shake.

so you do, leaning over the arm of the sofa to press your mouth over his long enough for both your breaths to catch. you pull away, moving to sit next to him so his free arm can wind around your shoulders when you kiss him again. "please," he mumbles when you part. "please don't ask to kiss me. just do it," he leans for another long, warm kiss that leaves you light headed. "stop tip-toeing around me, okay? we're married. i know i scare easy, but not that easy."

you feel giddy, finally feeling the weight being lifted piece by piece. "okay," you peck his mole endearingly before scooting up for another kiss. "i missed this."

"me too," he hums into your mouth. "it feels like the first time but also...not the first time, you know? not just because i don't remember but like," he doesn't know how to say it, wetting his lips thoughtfully. your chapstick is cherry flavoured, his favourite. "like we've been doing this for longer than both of us even realise. longer than this life."

"i know," you nod. "i know."

x

x

x

after a while, you forgot about jungkook's amnesia altogether. even though the chances of him making a full recovery were slim, it all felt so normal and back to routine, all the kissing and the cuddling and the playing with eunmi. there was almost no room for trepidation anymore. until now.

you moan into jungkook's mouth when he pulls you onto his thighs, big hands palming your ass when you grind into him. he's only mildly concerned that he'll cum in his pants at this rate but he doesn't fret too much: that was secondary to undressing you and touching you and pleasing you and making you scream as loud as he could make you without waking the baby. he has nearly three years of re-learning your body to catch up on and he's eager to start.

he's quickly reminded during this process that you are a master. you know exactly where to kiss him, exactly how much pressure to kneed into his cock with your hips, exactly how much tongue he wants in his mouth until he's whining and damp for you. of course you know his body like the back of your hand - your child wasn't conceived from thin air. it makes him all the more desperate to learn, almost antsy to get his mouth and hands on you until you're writhing and breathless beneath him.

you gasp when you feel his hand slip between your legs, rubbing his fingers over your shorts. you automatically rock your covered wetness into his touch, the long whimper you muffle into his neck sending jungkook soaring through the clouds with pride. you're so lost in the feeling, having missed it so much, you're barely able to squeak a stop! when he hooks his fingers inside the waistband of your panties.

his eyes shoot open. "what's wrong?"

"j-jungkook," you shuffle in his grip, feeling so embarrassed under his scrutiny you don't know where to look. "it's not that i want you to stop but. listen, just," you cling to his shoulders, shivering when his hands drag reassuringly up to your waist. "just remember that...i've had a kid, okay? i'm not gonna look like before."

he blinks. "i don't remember what you looked like before."

"no, i mean like," you lick your lips, tasting him there. "it's still something to keep in mind. i'm not gonna be as smooth and perky in places like all those idol girls you perform next to, so just-" he watches you fumble nervously in his lap, the growing disbelief making him blink. "don't expect too much okay? things might not look the way you imagine them to and i don't want you to feel-"

"stop," he cuts off, tugging you so you're seated over his erection again. the look jungkook pins you with is so intense you can feel your pulse thrum in your ears, the harsh rise and fall of his chest making him appear that much more passionate. "this body," he slips his hands up your top, palming your skin. "made my child. i take offence to it being spoken about with anything less than admiration, even by you."

"kook-ah," you say nervously, but still let him remove your pj top over your head before you laying you under him on the bed. you don't know why your eyes suddenly prick with tears when he traces over your stretch marks and discoloured skin with his smooth lips. "this kept my daughter warm," he kisses under your navel, sliding up to your heavy breasts. he kisses each darkened nipple, swollen from the baby's mouth. "these feed her." he rises further still, before planting his mouth on your forehead in a short peck. "and this raises her. so how can i be anything but proud to touch you?"

"jungkook, stop," you sniff, tears wetting your lashes. your eyes fall shut when he wipes them away with his thumb, lips ghosting over your cheeks and nose.

"what did i say about tip-toeing around me?" he whispers, forcing you to look him in the eye. only then do you see the tears there, all the ardour and respect he holds for you pooling in those brown depths. "i'm your husband. let me be your husband."

you kiss him before you can start crying again, letting him part your mouth and taste you long and hard before finally undressing himself and slipping your shorts off. this is all a first for him, and it's been so long since you've done this it's almost like a first for you too, frantic and messy and desperate to feel jungkook lodged inside you where he belongs. you know he must share the sentiment when he splits your thighs over the narrow of his hips, hooking them there while he gets a good look of his erection rubbing through your slick.

no wonder i knocked her up, jungkook muses faintly. i don't think i can ever stop doing this.

"jungkook, please," you run a hand through his hair, grinding against his cock in encouragement but he still won't take the plunge. instead, your voice reminds him of his initial objective, causing him to saunter down between your legs faster than you can process. he's licking into you before you can have a second thought about it, mouth falling open with a loud moan when he traces around your clit in firm circles.

he has your knees over his shoulders and his arms wound around your hips so you have nowhere to go, nothing to do but buck into his attentive mouth, jungkook's groans vibrating against you until you can barely keep yourself together - he's always enjoyed this as much as you have. which is why he takes his time, explores every crevice and subsequent response, relishing in the gush of wetness when he does something right. he even goes as far as holding his tongue stagnant against your folds so you have no choice but to rub yourself into him for friction, so entranced he is by your invigorating reactions. only when you're squirming and whimpering with deliriousness does he finally give in and resume a steady pace over your swollen clit, two fingers sliding in home so you have something to come around. and you do.

messy and wet and shrieking into the pillow by your head so that you're muffled enough to not wake the baby down the hall, your orgasm drawing out longer than normal as you do your best to ride it out. jungkook carries you through it, gulping down as much of your arousal as he can manage until your hips finally drop back into the bed in post-climax exhaustion. on the contrary, the only reason he stops lapping at you is because you tug him away by the hair, bringing him up to you and between your legs again before he can do anything about it.

he splutters with a moan at the sudden contact of your wetness against his cock again, eyes fluttering shut and allowing you to bring him in, arms and legs winding securely around him so that you're flush against each other, hips rocking in tandem. jungkook is so caught up in the feeling - not the sex but the safety of being held, being connected like this - that you're the one to reach down and position his tip against your hot center, before finally running your hands down your husband's back to cup his ass and shove him into you.

jungkook gasps, breath shaking at how tight you are. you're so hot, so snug around him his eyes shut upon instinct, letting your hands guide his hips and showing him how to move in that perfect rolling motion that you're only familiar with after years of practice. and jungkook, of course, is a fast learner. it doesn't take long for him to take the reigns and fuck you just how you like it, adding in a sharp snap of his hips every now and again just to listen to you squeak in surprise. the wet sounds of your joined arousal coupled with you moaning under him is near cathartic, sending him hurtling to his finish line.

but before he can get there you shift him over, thick thighs helping you roll and pin him under you on the bed. jungkook grapples at your waist when you resume a slower but harder rock of your hips that has his length grinding against your clenching walls, his head thrown back at the intensity of it. you ride him through it, peppering the moles on his pretty neck with kisses and sucks, mouth finding his stiff little nipple to give it a swirl too. it's exactly what he needs to finish off, fingers digging into your flesh as he bucks wildly, filling you full of his seed while he calls your name. you slow to a stop when his hands finally fall limp on your thighs, his chest heaving under you and covered in sweat. you giggle. he always got so sweaty.

"you did so well, kookie," you whisper, kissing his damp neck and collar bones. his arms are suddenly around you again for comfort. "you were so good for me...always so good to me..."

"you," he croaks finally, eyes half lidded and a little delirious. "you didn't finish?"

you giggle at his genuine concern, pecking his wet lips. "i got mine, remember?"

"how many times?" jungkook is suddenly alert, tugging your wrist to get your attention before you can climb off him. his other hand is still around your middle so moving was out of the question until he allowed it. he was still inside you. "how many times do i usually make you come?"

you blink in embarrassment. you never really thought about it, let alone counted. "um...i don't know..." he waits for an answer, awfully serious about it. "a-at least two or three, i guess."

you yelp when he flips you back over, fingers immediately prying your cum soaked folds apart to nestle inside. "then don't act like we're done."

[soldrawss]

Does Big Bro!Mikey AU have an april or no? I think it would be nice for Mikey to have a bff april!!

April is a part of this au, yes! She started out as just a classmate of Mikey’s, they had the same homeroom in high school before Mikey dropped out the summer before his Junior year. They hadn’t really kept in contact, mostly because she only knew him by proxy (Mikey was nice and friendly to everyone, April of course included, but they didn’t have much in common, and their main friend groups were different, so they didn’t hang out much) and when Mikey all but disappeared without an explanation, she kinda just figured he moved or something, and left it at that, not giving him any thought for the next three years.

That is, until she meets him again, in the halls of Hunter College, looking like he was gonna collapse at any minute, which he kinda does, into an empty bench at the schools outside cafe and lounge area. April waffles for a few seconds, because ‘holy shit is that Mike Hamato?’ before biting the bullet and making her way over to say, “Hey, Michael right? Hi, it’s been a while. It’s April, we had homeroom together freshman and sophomore year. I haven’t seen you since Savanti Romero’s pool party. How are you?” And his smile is a slow, automatic thing at first, more out of common politeness than anything else, but then it grows into something much more genuine and glacier melting when he responds back, “April, hey, yeah, hi! Wow, has it really been that long? Man, it seems like just yesterday you were fishing Mondo and me out of the pool after one too many chicken fights. It’s good to see you!”

And catching up seemed so easy, April was almost surprised they hadn’t been better friends in high school. Though, she suspected that was mostly due to Mikey’s incredibly easy charm and naturally inviting warmth. (Dude could make friends with just about anyone)

He was a little different than how she remembered, a little more weather-worn and tired, a kinda weariness that hung off his shoulders like heavyweights. But there was still a bright shine to those penny-colored eyes, and when he smiled, it was with all the dimples and joy that she remembers so clearly from when she was 15. Holding back a laugh at the Hamato kid that was preforming springing handstands across the cafeteria just to draw attention away from the impending fight between two of their more hotheaded classmates and ease the tension out of the air in a ridiculous but effective manner.

She doesn’t ask why he left high school, it doesn’t really occur to her to ask, but after 2 hours of talking (April not even realizing she was missing her history class because she was so caught up in their catching up) he offers the information anyway.

His dad died. When he was barely 16, and he was left alone with 3 baby brothers and no other family that could help take care of them, and oh my god, he just dropped out of school to get his GED like it was the most common thing in the world and he went to work, what, 2, sometimes 3 jobs just to make enough money to support them all and April didn’t mean for tears to start pooling up because that so wasn’t fair to Mikey at all, if anyone should be crying, it should be him, but Mikey just looks a little shy and bashful about it all. “It was hard, but we got through it. And hey, now I’m working at like, this really prestigious Italian restaurant, super classy and everything! And they pay me more than I’m probably worth, but I’ll get my culinary degree in like a year, and then after that, a lot of things will change,” He says like everything in the world is just that easy, handing April a few tissues from his book bag and giving her one of those genuine, if not a little crooked, smiles of his.

Mikey promises to have lunch with her again (because April absolutely refuses to let this dandelion haired lunatic walk away from her life a second time and practically demands that they hang out again) since they both have the same free time before their respective classes at the college, and makes a show of saving her number with probably a few too many emojis as a contact name just to make her smile.

And what turned into a promise for another lunch date turned into almost a daily routine, them having lunch together on the bench, talking about classes and teachers and jobs and April’s problematic little kitten she affectionately named Mayhem and Mikey’s little brothers who are probably equally as problematic but he doesn’t have a say in what their names are, and things are fun and casual between Hamato and her.

That is, until two months later, when April gets a call from Mikey at 5pm on a Saturday.

“Donnie’s sick,” Mikey says almost breathlessly, and even without the context, April was already springing to her feet just at the sheer tension and concern in Mikey’s voice, like a taught wire about to snap. “I can’t get off work for another few hours, but I don’t want to leave him by himself with a fever. And I know this is like, putting you on the spot and really awkward and you can totally say no if you want to, but I don’t know who else to call and,-”

“Mike, it’s ok. Breathe hun,” April is saying, not unkindly pushing Mayhem off her lap and reaching for her backpack off the floor in her dorm room, stuffing a few random things in it before grabbing her jacket and her car keys off the counter. “Text me your address. I’ll be over there in 5 minutes tops.”

And it’s more of a promise than a fact, because his building is technically 20 minutes away from hers, but April makes it in 10 just by spite alone (and maybe driving a little recklessly downtown) and knocks on the door of the little apartment on the 6th floor, unit 404.

It takes a hesitant second, but then the door lock clicks open and April is greeted by warm brown eyes and a freckled face that reminds April so much of Mikey that it takes her almost a full 10 seconds before she introduces herself with an automatic smile. “Hi sweetheart, I’m April. I’m a friend of your older brother Mikey.”

Raphael, if April remembered Mikey’s brothers correctly, didn’t really need much convincing to let April in after she mentioned he was a friend of Mikey's, and doesn’t hesitate to pull her into their little apartment, leading her to the bedroom that the twins share with a small but tight little fist around hers.

“Mikey called and said you were coming. Leo’s atah sleepover, but Donnie’s in here. His head’s still hot and his voice is all scratchy, even though I made sure that he took the medicine Mikey left out. And he won’t eat anything I give him,” the 7-year-old reports diligently, much more mature than April had expected from the young child. 

April’s been babysitting since she was 11, and considering how all the neighborhood kids around her block adore her, she likes to think that she’s got a pretty solid Ph.D. in knowing how to take care of a sick pre-teen who wants nothing to do with her. So the heavy-lidded and red-eyed glare that Donatello shoots at her from under his covers is duly noted but otherwise ignored as she gently knocks on the door and slowly follows a much less hesitant Raphael into the bedroom.

It takes a while, a long while, for Donatello, no, Donnie, to warm up to her, but he gets there eventually, with the help of Raphael, Raph, who’s hanging off of Aprils shoulders, having warmed up to her almost immediately simply because ‘any friend of Mikey’s is a friend of ours Dee! Don’t be mean and eat some soup!’

After realizing that Donnie just had a little cold, and was in no real danger even with a fever, Raph seemed to cheer up immensely, and was more than willing to help answer all of April’s questions about what medicine Donnie had taken, any allergies, the last time he ate, and even helped her make some egg drop soup since they didn’t have enough ingredients of chicken noodle, which Donnie put up a fight about, but eventually took after one look of Raph’s puppy dog eyes.

Donnie was out like a light 15 minutes later, after taking some night time cough medicine and April sent a reassuring text to Mikey two hours later when his fever finally broke, to which Mikey replied with an explosion of heart emoji’s that April couldn’t rightly decipher other than he was happy about it.

Mikey got home at 11 that night, and April had to flag him down quietly from where she sat trapped under a sleeping, pj clad Raph on the couch; a Jupiter Jim movie marathon playing on the tv. 

“Thank you so much, April,” Mikey said to her in the kitchen 20 minutes later, handing her a cup of hot tea. He had efficiently plucked Raph off of April’s lap like a pro with years of experience, putting him into his own bed before checking on a still sleeping Donnie, whose face was no longer a burnt red from his fever earlier. “I don’t know what I would have done without you. I don’t get my paycheck till next week, so I can’t really pay you right now, but I brought home some chocolate mousse cake from my work that you can have until I can-” “You didn’t tell me you worked at Huesso’s!” April didn’t shout, because there were two kids sleeping down the hallway, as she grabbed the bag Mikey had offered to her. “Dude, their deserts are like, crazy good! I love their cheesecake, but they’re stupid expensive and you have to get a reservation like, 4 months in advance to get in.” And April uses the change in topics as a distraction because there was no way she’d let Mikey try to pay her for helping out, she didn’t even want that to be an option. April didn’t do this for the money. She wanted to help out Mikey out. She liked Mikey. She thought he was funny and charming and had a heart big enough to cradle the entire world if he was as big as all the love he has. And she adored being around his baby brothers.

April grins at Mikey when she opens the box, and slides her finger over the glossy frosting of the cake and licks her fingers of the chocolatey goodness before she says, “Listen, if I could convince you to bring me home deserts from this place, then I’ll hang out with the boys anytime you want me too. You have my number, literally call me anytime, for any reason, and I’m here.”

[bonemarroww]

Something Else - Trans!(O) Amajiki Tamaki x (A) F!Reader

Summary: “You’ll get there someday!” Mirio always says. “You’ll do better next time.” Tamaki doesn’t want to get there someday. And if every Alpha always does, well, maybe he’s something else then.

Warnings : Crochet inaccuracy, probably. Also, confession stress.

Feedback is welcome !

(I do not own the picture)

AO3

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

——————— Chapter 3

“I j-just don’t know w-what I should do.” Tamaki admitted, his head comfortably against the wall of Nejire’s room.

Ever since he had come out to his best friend (and a little later, to said friend’s mate), things had been going rather well. They had not really changed when out and about, as to most he was still the shy Alpha from class 3-A. He didn’t mind it too much, for luckily, though people identified him as an Alpha from his scent, it was a subject unlikely to be discussed in most contexts. As long as he could be himself around his friends, so far, he was satisfied.  

Since Mirio and Nejire knew, Tamaki had taken to just leaving his nest made in his room, simply locking the door on the off chance that someone else would visit him while he was not here.

One thing bothered him, though, and that was not knowing how to behave around the Alpha that caught his interest. The thought of telling her of his feelings as an Alpha was only slightly less dreadful than that of coming out to her. He was at a dead end.

“I’m pretty sure she likes you.” Nejire shrugged. “She would probably accept any kind of confession, if it’s from you. A letter maybe?”

The shy boy shook his head, sighing defeatedly.

“She’s b-been raised t-to be the best Alpha. I have to be m-more traditional than that.”

From behind him, he could hear Mirio humming.

“So that leaves making her a homemade gift, or asking her to scent something, depending on how you want to go about it.” The blonde thought aloud.

Tamaki shook in his shoes as he remembered his dreadful attempts at any sort of crafting when he was younger. His father had tried to get him to crochet, his go-to practice when nervous, and his mother had tried to take him woodcarving; but young timid Tamaki hadn’t even known how to make the simplest bead bracelets or drawing.  

The intent behind it made the craft feel so overwhelming. He had quickly decided he would wait until finding a potential mate before trying again any of these.

“Maybe I should just s-stay like this. M-maybe if I just keep spending time with her as her f-friend, I’ll g-get used to her presence...”

Nejire was quick to come grasp his hand, pouting.

“Come on, I’ll teach you how to make these cute little thread bracelets! Or Mirio could show you how to patchwork a blanket.” She offered.

The sad Omega shook his head.

“These bracelets d-don’t last forever...” He sulked against the wall.

Tamaki tuned out Nejire’s coos about how much of a closet romantic he was at heart. The obvious answer would be to ask her to scent something for his nest, but he didn’t want to come off as not making enough efforts to court her.

“Maybe you could ask her.” Mirio helpfully decided. “Tell her you don’t know where to begin, have her help you. Maybe she’ll even tell you her favorites.” He coaxed.

With a sigh, Tamaki timidly looked away from the wall.

“Y-you think?” He tried to mask the hopefulness in his voice.

The blonde Alpha and his mate looked at each other, feeling they may have finally breached the shy boy’s defenses.

“I am certain.” The bubbly Omega grinned.

.

Much to Tamaki’s relief; his Alpha friend –and secret flame– had been ecstatic at the idea of helping him in his future courtship. She had first asked a lot of questions, the kind that left him with burning cheeks and ears, as he told her he couldn’t tell her yet.

When asked why, he had panicked and said he wasn’t sure of his feelings yet, and that he wouldn’t want to embarrass himself telling her if it was to be rejected soon after by said potential mate.

She had seemed to believe his lie – as he was positive there was no one else on this planet for him but her and her sweet scent.

The Alpha had given him clues as to what he could try; saying in passing how crochet was her favorite way to go. It took time, dedication, and a lot of love for someone to go through the exercise. Tamaki immediately chose it.

Next was what to do.

“If you were an Omega.” She looked at him in the eyes. “What would you like best from your Alpha?”

The shy boy had thought for a moment, unwilling to make his feelings too obviously out in the open. Looking for words, he fumbled with the rim of his shirt; suddenly aware of how hot the day was. Had his cheeks been this flushed the whole time?

“I-I guess I would w-want something that m-makes me think of t-them... S-something p-personal between us...”

In her smile, he knew he had a given a good answer.

“The key to a good gift is to make it thoughtful. Show the Omega you’re courting that you understand their needs and can provide.”

Early on, as she made him choose what colors he felt could be best for his work, Tamaki knew what he would do. He could not identify a single fault or need in her being, but he could make something that called back to their shared history. A scarf.

He chose a soft green that reminded him of the comfort her smell brought him, and a pretty pearly white that suited her bright personality.

His Alpha chose her own colors, so she could teach him by example.

They settled in her room, in the 2-B dorms. It was the first time one of them discovered the other’s sanctum. Amajiki took in the soft colors of her walls, white and green. She had told him these tints helped to calm her Alpha down, when it proved to be restless. For some reason, Tamaki felt even more nervous to be in her den. Sure, he had already been in Mirio’s dorm room several times, and knew visiting each other’s den was something most Alphas didn’t have trouble doing nowadays...  

It probably didn’t feel any different to her than showing her place to one of her Beta friends, he thought, his Omega sorrowful, as it was simultaneously ecstatic to be shown around his Alpha’s place.

The room was drenched in her scent...

“It’s not easy, but don’t worry too much. You’ll get the hang of it soon.” She reassured him, sitting on her bed and him on her chair, as she showed him how to crochet with her own project.

Her colors were a light blue, a pale purple and white.

She spent an hour showing him different simple knots, letting him decide which ones he preferred. Feeling overwhelmed, Tamaki chose the first one she showed him, internally freaking out too hard to concentrate on the others. She also showed him how to change the colors, and gave him ideas of patterns.

They started immediately; the shy boy afraid he would forget if he was to leave now. He knew he wouldn’t have the courage to ask her again another time.

His beginning was sloppy, and he abandoned his first pattern idea when he struggled to change the color on a bad first try. Still, when they decided they were too tired to go on, Tamaki actually felt proud of what he had crafted.

The Alpha hadn’t asked more questions, so neither did he, but he had noticed while working in comfortable silence that her work was quite wide. Was she making a blanket? These gifts were very popular among Omegas. Easy to scent, soft enough to be put in a nest, warm. Tamaki wondered if she was just making it to accompany him, or if she too had someone in mind to gift it to.

.

Tamaki got his answer the next day, after class, as they had agreed to continue working on their projects in each other’s presence as soon as they could. Mirio had cheered for him as quietly as he could manage, and had batted away his fear of her having an Omega in mind. All in all, after spending the day with his friends and discreetly repeated the moves the Alpha had taught him, the shy boy was quite eager to get his courting gift (he still couldn’t think the words without blushing madly) finished.

At the time they had agreed on, Tamaki made his way to her dorms, hiding his face bashfully whenever he caught the gaze of one of her classmates.

A very tired looking Alpha opened the door to him, and seeing the bags under her eyes, and her hair ruffled from sleeping, Tamaki panicked. Had he mistaken her invitation of the passed day? Should he have checked by text if she was available? Or, worse, had she forgotten about him? His inner Omega wailed at the prospect.

“Oh, come in!” Her gaze lit up slightly when she noticed it was him. “I’m sorry for the state I’m in, I didn’t get much sleep.” She yawned as she moved from the door.

Tamaki nodded, and found his spot from the day before. As he got his halfway project out of his bag (where he had made sure it wouldn’t get messed up), he noticed she didn’t.

“A-aren’t you f-finishing yours?”

A bad feeling seized him then, only confirmed by the Alpha’s bashful expression.

“My Alpha wouldn’t let me sleep until I finished it. She’s very eager to give it away.”  

There was no sound coming from the third year, though he wondered how to talk over the painful crack of his broken heart. His Omega whined, the urge to nest for comfort strong as he contemplated the pitiful work he had done.

“Oh.” he simply said.

He wouldn’t cry in front of her, he decided, as the urge to felt more and more intense.

The girl apparently felt his distress, though she misunderstood its origin.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m still here to help you, and I’ve got plenty more yarn to show you if you don’t remember well the gestures.” She reassured him, voice sweet, her calming scent a bit stronger.

Tamaki eventually managed to keep on his work through the sorrow. If the Alpha noticed his sadness, she didn’t comment on it, as she read over her homework while he crafted.

The elf boy didn’t dare ask her how her mate reacted. Eyeing her when she wasn’t looking, he could see her small smile through the exhaustion. If she had confessed her wish to court an Omega, the lucky person had most likely accepted.

Who wouldn’t? Tamaki got angry at the very notion that someone might not share her feelings. She was the most perfect Alpha, even to those who weren’t her mate –or not even Omegas, to her knowledge. He knew that very well.  

After some time, all his thoughts blinding him, Tamaki realized what was supposed to be the end of his scarf was now a mess of knots not even closely resembling what he had in mind.  

Ruined. His courting gift was ruined .

A tear escaped him, despite his efforts not to let it upset him.

He would never be enough for her. What Alpha, or even Omega, would want to wear such an ugly thing?

The Alpha must have felt his distress in the air or in his scent, for the next moment, she was all over him, her hand on his shoulder and her cheek pressing against his hair as she leaned down to take a look at his failed attempt at a scarf.

“I-it’s r-ruined.” Tamaki choked up, unable to keep the tears in.

Instantly, she coddled him, whispering sweet nothings to make him feel batter. She pried the fabric from his hands, inspecting the place where everything had started to go wrong.

“It’s okay, Amajiki... It’s salvageable!” She smiled at him. “If you only let me...”

The boy took the thing from her, heart on a full-on crisis. What use was he if he could not even make the girl he loved a proper courting gift?

“Y-you c-can't! I-It's supposed to be m-made on m-my own...”

He saw in her gaze that she understood the real struggle. Her eyes became soft, her soothing words becoming cuddling as she took it upon herself to comfort him.

“It’s fine... It’s only the first time you’re making this, you should have seen mine when I first learnt...”

And then, for some reason Tamaki would never understand himself, he told her. He told her in a cracked whisper, voice wet and miserable from his tears and body shaking.

“I-it was sup-supposed to b-be for you...”

As soon as the secret escaped him, two things happened at once.

One, he realized the nature of the confession he had just made, his hands flying to his mouth as if it would still keep the words in.

Second, above his hurried apology, a loud, loud purr was heard.

So loud, he felt it emanating from her chest against his side; so loud, he barely could think above its rumble.

When he dared look into the Alpha’s face, confused, what he found in her gaze was nothing less than joyful excitement.

“Really?” She exclaimed, crouching in front of him to get a better look at his eyes, from beneath his bangs.

His Omega quieted its cries at the excited contentment showing on her face, and the continued purr. Tamaki nodded shyly.

She stood up, practically ran to her dresser, and came back with a grin and a folded bundle of light blue, pale purple and white that she promptly thrusted his way.

“It’s a plaid. You can use it as a loose scarf –I know you don’t like anything too tight against your neck– or as a small blanket. I thought it would suit you well.”

For the first time, the shy boy saw her expression grow bashful.

“That is, if you accept it as my courting gift.”

Tamaki’s cheeks burnt, and he felt like hyperventilating as he felt the honesty in her voice. The purr hadn’t lessened, louder than he knew an Alpha could express their joy. It took him a moment to gather his thoughts, overwhelming as they were.

“I-I do. Ac-accept it, I mean...”

A mess of jumbled words escaped him, and when he nervously stopped talking, afraid of making a fool out of himself, Tamaki only found fondness in her gaze.

“Then I declare you, Amajiki Tamaki-”

“J-just Tamaki is f-fine...” he interrupted shyly.

“-my mate. Tamaki .” She repeated his name as though to prove a point, equal parts amused and tender.

————————

I know absolutely nothing about crochet, and so, forgive me for any unrealistic detail about the making of their courting gifts. I read that a scarf could be made by a beginner in under 6h with favorable choice of yarn; as for the plaid made in one night, let's just collectively agree that she has a side quirk that allows her to crochet faster than is normal.

On a happier note : Tamaki got a girlfriend ! Yay !

PS : it's not the fact that he's an Omega that prevents Tamaki from crafting a gift, but the responsibility it holds that makes him too anxious to do it. ;)

[porkchop-ao3]

A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 15)

Slow

We’re 15 chapters in; here’s a sprinkling of action... a very fine, stingy sprinkling. I did say this story was going to be slow burn lmao :’) 

(All chapters tagged with #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)

 -

Arthur and I had sat ourselves down underneath a tree, he was leaning up against it and had taken his hat off to give me a good view of his face. I sat a few feet away in front of him, holding the paper he'd given me from his journal and a book about wildflowers and herbs that he'd given me to lean on. I observed him for a while as he settled, getting comfortable. He looked a little shy all of a sudden with my eyes on him, but he didn't say anything and just looked out towards where Rayna and Jet were grazing. 

When he was ready and seemed to have relaxed, I started sketching out some guidelines. I started with a light oval shape and a few lines to place his eyes, nose and mouth, then worked lightly as I started mapping out his features. I went over the same place a few times until I got the shapes as close as I could, slowly warming my wrist up and getting my artist's eyes back. When I drew for a while I would start to see things differently. Back when I'd draw myself the image in the mirror would turn into a collection of lines and shapes that could be more easily replicated than a face, but when I was drawing Arthur I could not lose his image. I was constantly reminded of who I was drawing; it required a little more effort and focus, but it was good practice. 

It certainly threw me back into the water when it came to drawing again. 

It was an interesting experience being able to really stare at him in a context where it was entirely appropriate to do so. I noticed things about him that I hadn't before; the scar on his chin, the dimple on the tip of his nose, the slight signs of his age in the form of creases around his eyes. All it served to do was make him even more attractive to me, and my hand would shake a little each time he met my eyes. 

My drawing certainly wasn't anything to write home about. I supposed you could tell that it was him but things were a little off; his eyes were definitely too big, his chin was too small, he was certainly better looking in the flesh, but it wasn't a terrible drawing. I worked on the shading, darkening the side of his face furthest from me where it was in shadow and put a little more detail into his eyes. Gosh, his eyes. I'd never be able to do them justice with a stick of graphite but I sure did enjoy trying. The longer I drew for, the more relaxed Arthur seemed to become and he kept his eyes on me more often than not. 

If felt strangely intimate, just sitting and drawing him, sharing eye contact as a breeze rolled through the grass. It was peaceful, too, with the sounds of tree branches rustling and songbirds flying overhead. It was lovely, really, and I found myself threatening to overwork my drawing simply so I could drag it out for longer. With a soft sigh I looked between Arthur and his graphite impression, pursing my lips. 

"I think I've worked on this all I can," I told him. "I guess it's okay, though it's not going to hang on anyone's wall."

"Did you enjoy making it?" He asked me and I nodded without hesitation.

"I really did," I grinned. 

"If you enjoyed it, that's all that matters," he said, putting his hat back on. 

"Thank you for sitting for me, you're an excellent model," I told him, resulting in a bashful chuckle. 

"If you say so."

I paused for a moment, looking down at my drawing and thinking about my next words. 

"Do you wanna see it?" I finally asked, nervous to see his reaction but wanting to share it all the same. 

"Really? I'd love to. Only if you're happy to share," he said. I turned the drawing around and tilted it towards him. Arthur looked at it, then moved away from the tree to scoot closer to me. 

Arthur studied the drawing for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face. 

"Wow, I ain't never seen a drawing of myself before," he noted, leaning in closer. With how I was holding the drawing it meant his head was above my lap, so close to me. "You did a good job, looks like me!"

"You think? I reckon I did you a little injustice," I snorted, flushing a little. 

"What'chu mean? Looks fine to me."

"You're better looking than that," I assured him and he glanced up at me. He only leaned back just a little when he noticed how close he was. He looked a little stunned, like he didn't know how to respond; so I saved him the trouble. "You got any tips for me?"

"Oh, I don't think it's my place. I'm hardly an expert," he said, looking back down at the drawing. 

"You're more skilled than I am, I'd say that makes you qualified enough. I'd appreciate the advice, since I'd like to draw more often," I said, watching Arthur run his thumb along his bottom lip. "Please?”

"Alright. I'm not really sure what to say, you've clearly got skill already but I guess if I was gonna give you some advice…” he trailed off and paused for just a moment. 

"I noticed as you were drawing, you tend to go over the same place over and over, I see what you're doing, I do it myself. You're feeling out the line," he pointed out the edge of his nose in the drawing as an example. "But you do it real quick every time, trying to get the line right in one quick stroke. Sometimes you gotta slow down a little, guide the pencil down slow as you look at what you're trying to draw. Either that or you do a series of shorter strokes, go in stages. Take a little pressure off yourself, take your time."

"Oh, I see what you mean," I nodded, turning the drawing to have a look at it myself. "That's definitely something I tend to do, the quick lines. It's sort of like I'm taking a stab in the dark and hoping it looks right," I laughed. 

"There's nothing wrong with it, it just might save you some hassle if you slow it down."

"Right," I agreed, absorbing his words. "Thank you, Arthur. Anything else?"

"Just keep at it," he shrugged his shoulders and looked up at me. "I'll keep my eye out for a sketchbook for you. Then maybe we can do this more often; come out and do some drawing together.”

"I'd really like that," I told him, failing to keep the grin from spreading across my face. Arthur was still so close, his eyes studied my face for a while, a certain warmth appearing in them.

"Yeah, me too," his voice was quiet and smooth, and he wasn't moving away. He was close enough for me to hear his breath and feel it too, and I was a little embarrassed to realise that must mean he'd notice my own breath pick up. 

Arthur licked his lips, glanced down at my mouth and a spike of hot, bright anticipation lit up my body. I was frozen still and yet he tilted his head and edged forwards. Something was about to happen, something that'd never happened to me and all I could do was sit there and panic on the inside. From my lips, his eyes moved back up to my eyes and he seemed to see something in them – probably the panic – because just like that, his head tilted back down to my drawing. He let out a breath, sort of like an awkward laugh mixed with a sigh, then he sat back to give me some space. 

What? No! No, no, no!

Had I imagined all of that? Was he actually just looking at a chunk of something stuck in my teeth? Probably. 

Idiot.

"I'm sorry, I–” he started, pausing to take out the pocket watch I'd gifted him. "I should be heading towards Valentine, I reckon." 

"Oh, of course. I'm sorry to have kept you," I said, clearing my throat and holding out his pencil and book. He took them from me very carefully, like he was conscious of avoiding contact with my skin.

"Nonsense, this was nice," he told me, then rose to his feet. I stood up too, quickly, so that he wouldn't feel obligated to offer his hand to help me up. "I'm sorry we never got to find that oleander."

"It's okay, I'll probably stick around here and look for some, since I'm already here." 

"You sure? And you'll be okay on your own?" He queried and I gave him a look. He remembered he was speaking to little miss lone wolf and chuckled. "That was dumb, I'm sorry."

I dismissed his concerns with a shake of my head. "Thank you for riding out with me, and for the paper and the art lesson."

"The pleasure's all mine, my lady," he dipped his head a little.

We stood facing each other for a few moments, not quite meeting each other's eyes. Something hung in the air and I was starting to think that perhaps I wasn't just imagining things; in which case, how disappointing that things hadn't unfolded in the way they seemed to have been going. He and I could've been rolling around in the grass together, his lips on mine, by now. 

"Uhh, anyway. I best be getting back to it. I'll see you back at camp," he eventually said, reaching out to give my upper arm a gentle squeeze and caress. I certainly didn't mind those little touches of his.

"Sure, see you later," I replied, my voice sounding much sadder than intended.

"You look after yourself, alright?"

"Will do. You too," I nodded. He gave me a little smile before slowly making his way over to the horses. He walked oddly, like he wasn't certain he was going in the direction he wanted; each foot being placed awkwardly and hesitantly. He turned and looked back at me as he went, and for lack of knowing what to do I gave him a silly wave, which he returned. 

He mounted Jet, giving me a final nod before setting off, leaving me to stand there watching him go… feeling like I wanted to punch something; preferably my own face. How could something have come so close and yet crumbled to dust so easily? Maybe if I had looked a little less terrified, maybe if I had leaned in too, maybe if I had said something when he looked back at me just then, maybe, maybe, maybe. 

With a quiet whine I stomped over to Rayna, putting my drawing of Arthur away in the saddlebag before mounting up. 

"How awkward did that look from over here, girl?" I whispered to her, patting her neck. She shook out her mane, and I wasn't sure what to make of that. 

With a wistful sigh I headed back to the trail, going in the opposite direction to Arthur to head towards Bayou Nwa, on a quest to find some oleander. 

-

When I rode back into camp that evening, saddlebags stocked with Charles' oleander, I noticed things looked sparse. Bedrolls were packed up, fires were out, some tents were already gone and others in the process of being pulled down. I dismounted my horse and jogged over to Dutch who was in his tent, speaking with Hosea. 

"What's happening, Dutch? Where's Arthur?" I asked him, worry creeping into my tone. Dutch looked up at me and sighed like I was an inconvenience, though perhaps that's all I was.

"Arthur has gone with Charles to scout out our new camp. We're moving."

"Why? Did something happen?"

"Of course something happened, now, I ain't got time for this so you can either clear off on your nag, or stick around and help us! It's time for you to choose your loyalties, I don't care either way," he snapped at me, clearly extremely stressed out, before getting up and stomping past me. 

I watched him go with widened eyes before turning back to Hosea who had a sad look about him.

"Don't take it personally, my dear, he's had a lot on his plate as of late," he told me wearily. I glanced in Dutch's direction before meeting Hosea's eyes again. "Though, he has a point. If you're going to leave us, now's the time to do it. No one'll be counting heads."

"And no one'll miss me, huh?" I chuckled, not taking it to heart. Hosea gave me a look, one that said that wasn't what he meant and I knew it.

"You're more than welcome to come with us. You've been a hard worker, but it's entirely up to you. I won't try to convince you either way," he continued, speaking through a sigh before rising to his feet and moving past me.

"Thanks, Hosea," I spoke after him. He paused to look over his shoulder at me and we shared a look for a few moments, a comforting smile passed between us before he left. 

I took a deep breath and turned, marching towards Susan. 

"Miss Grimshaw? Point me towards someone who needs my help."

[thirstzone]

On The Interpretation Of Nero

I’m thinking about writing down my thoughts about each of the characters and how I portray them. This is mainly just so I can come back to these if I get writer’s block! Everyone is entitled to their own interpretation and everyone can write the characters as they wish! This is just how I personally interpret each of the characters.

Without further ado, on the topic of the devil hunter Nero.

Nero is possibly the most varied in his emotions throughout both Devil May Cry 4 and Devil May Cry 5. He’s shown bashfulness, sorrow, desperation, tenderness, and, of course, irritation and rage. That’s not to say the other characters haven’t shown these either, but Nero in particular stands out to me as the one with the biggest range of expression.

The way I write Nero with a loved one is based largely on his personality from Devil May Cry 4, admittedly. If you’ve heard of the concept of “tsundere”, Nero definitely shows shades of this trope throughout Devil May Cry 4. For example, he gives Kyrie a gift: a lovely necklace. Rather than giving it to her directly, he leaves it on her seat for her to find when she goes to sit next to him for the sermon, and when she picks it up, he simply looks away and acts like it’s not that big of a deal.

I don’t quite remember the context of the situation, but at some point, Nero scratches at his nose bashfully. I believe it was when Kyrie grabs his hand near the end of the game? Either way, it’s a very cute gesture, and Nero’s obviously a little shy in that moment.

He feels emotions very strongly in general. When it seemed like he couldn’t stop Kyrie from being absorbed into the Savior, he calls out to her and even sheds tears. He initially attacked Dante because Nero decided he was a threat to Kyrie’s safety.

But what’s perhaps one of his strongest traits: his temper.

This was incredibly evident in DMC4 as he refuses to hear Dante out whatsoever, instead engaging him in battle. His anger at Dante is disproportionate to what it should be, although Dante was admittedly taunting Nero as well. When Nero is angry or irritated, all logic goes directly out of the window.

And this is a trait that clearly sticks with him in Devil May Cry 5, mostly directly at Urizen. In mission 8, when he finally breaks the crystal and lands a blow on Urizen, he mouths off to Urizen, regardless of the effort vastly outweighing the actual damage he had done. He’s incredibly irrational if something gets under his skin.

But let’s talk about the differences between DMC4 Nero and DMC5 Nero, shall we?

When I write for DMC5 Nero, I have to remind myself that 5 years have passed and he’s indeed grown more mature. He’s no longer a teenager, and he seems to have more of a hold on his emotions, although he’s still got a short fuse. He’s no longer the type to shoot (or slash) and not bother asking questions later, but he’s matured a bit, and shoots and asks questions at the same time.

He seems much less like a tsundere in DMC5 as well, but perhaps this is because he’s been in a relationship for years and got more used to expressing his affections.

He’s still dorky, though, and I love him for it. He’s matured, but still young.

[heymusings]

tarzan

I tend to view Tarzan in general as a film based mostly on the different types of relationships between the characters. Jane’s relationship with her father is one of the many enjoyable dynamics in the film, and in the Disney canon in general. They show what a relationship can look like with a parent once a child becomes an adult. The kind of closeness they have is one that I think all parents and children should strive to have once a parent is able to reduce their role as an authoritative figure in a child’s life. Jane’s age, I think, has a lot to do with the nature of their interactions in the film. Jane is the film’s main female protagonist.    Jane is adventurous, and has come to a new land not to find love, but because she is passionate about the research she and her father do.    She does show many moments of bravery and courage, such as when she basically throws herself at Clayton trying to stop him even though he is a big man with a rifle.  

She’s very straightforward and knows what she wants, but after she meets Tarzan and starts to fall in love with him she becomes bashful and almost shy. Jane plays no real role in the movie other than the love interest of the male lead…

The problems with Jane’s portrayal are characteristics common to so many female characters and it says something not about them as individuals, but about how society (and film makers, by extension) view women and their place and expected responses in narratives.  

At times the way the incomers treated Tarzan made me feel a little uncomfortable (“Look at our marvelous cities and superior types of clothing, as a fellow human you belong here!” type deals), because a lot of their attitudes seemed to vaguely mirror the type of attitudes europeans have always had when encountering non-europeans historically (whether they be native americans, africans, asians, et cetera).   It’s difficult to do without invariably seeming to draw a parallel between “gorilla family” and “human beings,” which I don’t want to do.   But I think the similarities arise not because gorillas are, for example, similar to native people, but because the gorillas in the movie behaved more like people than like real gorillas, and so through this anthropomorphism, the people who directed the movie projected their own feelings of how to approach “forest people” into the storyline.   It’s the old stereotype that non-European life is rougher, less complex, yet more appealing and rewarding to our “inner animals” quietly reasserting itself. Like 99% of mother figures in film Tarzan’s mother Kala is reduced to only that aspect of her character- her role as a mother.    This, again, is a problem because it is so prevalent in all movies, and in most you will notice that the relationship of the mother/child usually takes a backseat to the father/child relationship.   The mother/child relationship might be precarious, but she is always there for the child- it is always the father’s respect, love, admiration, etc. that must be earned by the child.    She was not even at the deathbed of her mate, Kerchak, because it was too important to the movie that his final moments involve passing along leadership to Tarzan.

Terk is an interesting character because most people either read her as being very androgynous or a boy.   In rewatching the film, it’s interesting how many of us have recalled her as being a male character because there are multiple references in the movie to her being a girl; in the intro she is referred to by her mother as a “young lady,” her full name is given (Terkina), and later in the movie she is referred to as “miss,” and those are just a few examples.     There’s no lack of context given to clue the audience in as to how she identifies.   Any confusion is not owing to how the movie refers to her, but rather, how she presents in terms of being traditionally masculine or feminine.  

We come to rely on behavior to indicate gender, and therefore end up forcing characters into gender roles because we have trouble- subconsciously- accepting that not everyone will conform to the gender binary.   Not because we’re bad people, but because we’ve been taught our entire lives to see a binary.   In a strange way, crafting her in such a way was a win on Disney’s part, and a(n unintentional) fail on the audience’s part, because even when Disney has given us a character that breaks so many gender expectations, our first- subconscious- reaction is still to place her within them and try to figure out “how” she can be a girl if “she doesn’t act like one."  

[hope-for-olicity]

Fabulous Olicity Fanfic Friday - May 4th, 2018

(Source: https://hafuboti.com/2014/09/25/may-the-posters-be-with-you/)

Happy Friday! So this is my attempt to both thank awesome fanfic writers for their amazing work and offer my recommendations to anyone who is interested. Here are the fantastic fanfic stories I read this week! They are posted in the order I read them.

Oliver on Vacation multi-chapter complete by @tinaday3w - Olicity AU.  When Oliver Queen’s best friend, renowned psychiatrist Dr. John Diggle, encourages the stressed-out CEO to go on vacation, Oliver can’t believe Digg’s “vacation” choice is actually a psychiatric retreat nestled deep in the Blue Ridge Mountains.  Oliver simply doesn’t think he needs this kind of intensive therapy.  And he definitely doesn’t think he needs the attentions of Felicity – the frivolous, frolicking forest fairy who flits her way into his life and challenges all his assumptions.  What Oliver doesn’t know is that he’ll never be so happy to be proven wrong. https://archiveofourown.org/works/4662243/chapters/10637169

A Dance With The Devil multi-chapter WIP by @it-was-a-red-heeler - A Season Five re-write http://archiveofourown.org/works/13792770/chapters/31707645

Time for a Story multi-chapter WIP by @smkkbert - This fic shows Olicity and their life as a (married) couple with family. Although Olicity (and their kids) are the protagonists, other characters of Arrow and Flash make appearances. YOU NEED THIS STORY IN YOUR LIFE. http://archiveofourown.org/works/3912157/chapters/8757172

The Story of Tonight multi-chapter WIP by @arrow-crack - Set in the Revolutionary War. Felicity, a rich daughter of General Smoak meets a strangely charming soldier under her father's command, Oliver Queen. https://archiveofourown.org/works/14073570/chapters/32423250

Another Chance at Love multi-chapter WIP by @smkkbert - It’s been almost two years since Oliver lost his fiancée Detective McKenna Hall when she died in the line of duty. He closed his heart to love ever since, unable or unwilling to give love another chance. That changes when he meets Felicity Smoak at the annual gala of the Starling City Police Foundation. Is he ready to give love another chance, though? http://archiveofourown.org/works/13561101/chapters/31119801

Guilt Trip by HopeShannon3000 - John, Rene, Curtis and Dinah go to see Felicity after finding out Oliver was arrested, Felicity's had enough and emotions are high while she tells them exactly what she thinks https://archiveofourown.org/works/14462955

Honey, I Shrunk the Girl multi-chapter complete by @felicityollies - Felicity just wanted to help her friends with their latest scientific project. The last thing she expected was to end up only inches tall. LOVE THIS SO SO MUCH! http://felicityollies.tumblr.com/post/160670321697/honey-i-shrunk-the-it-girl

Elizabeth Grace Smoak multi-chapter WIP by @lynn8828 - What if Felicity and Oliver briefly had met before he got on the Gambit? Despite her best efforts, Felicity was unable to get in contact with the famous Oliver Queen after having a one night stand with him and getting pregnant with his child. After raising their child for five years after finding out that Oliver died on the Gambit, she finds out he is alive and knows that she needs to tell him about their daughter. But will he believe her? AMAZING STORY!! http://archiveofourown.org/works/13639371/chapters/31322715

Periods, Timelines and Exclamation Points multi-chapter WIP by Izzyface - Felicity Smoak has a PLAN for her life. At 25, she is the youngest Director of IT in the history of Queen Consolidated and on track to be the next VP of Technology for the Fortune 250 company. But that’s before everything in her life starts to go haywire. https://archiveofourown.org/works/14062422/chapters/32395548

To Sacrifice the Sun multi-chapter WIP by @emmilynestill - Oliver and Felicity are ARGUS agents working on a mission in Mexico, the two share some very important history. http://archiveofourown.org/works/7510744/chapters/22505918

Tempest multi-chapter WIP by @so-caffeinated and @dust2dust34 - Three years ago, tragedy struck Julianna Queen’s life. Now, she wears a mask and fights at her father’s side, looking for closure and justice as she tries to find a path to move forward with her life while holding on to her past. But that may a bit more complicated than she thinks… http://archiveofourown.org/works/13309731/chapters/30461850

Damn It, Why Won't the Eagle Just Land Already? multi-chapter WIP by @smewhereelse - President John Diggle would really appreciate it if everyone would stop gossiping about his security detail and his science advisor and get back to work. He’d appreciate it even more if his best friends would pull their heads out of their asses and get together already. A White House romantic comedy AU. https://archiveofourown.org/works/13132602/chapters/30040788

Not Wanted Anymore by @cruzrogue - Felicity kicks out Curtis, Rene, and Dinah as John stays behind. My take of the last few episodes. https://archiveofourown.org/works/14488920

Above All Else multi-chapter WIP by shesimperfect_butshetries - A different take on episode 6x14: Rene shoots but Oliver jumps in front of Felicity. https://archiveofourown.org/works/14101470/chapters/32490537

QC w/Smoakin Party of Two multi-chapter WIP by @cruzrogue - A party to celebrate Oliver’s one year’s anniversary of coming home bash by his mother. The Hood is busy taking out a drug ring. Felicity is asked by him to go in his place and create a cover story. Felicity isn’t haven’t a very good time since arriving at the party which has her leaving Starling City. (Not for Laurel lovers.) https://archiveofourown.org/works/11691210/chapters/26320578

Untitled by @smoaking-greenarrow - Arrow Out of Context Prompt: “Once you let the darkness inside, it never comes out.” Post 6x20 fic http://smoaking-greenarrow.tumblr.com/post/173467515524/13-if-youre-still-taking-prompts

The Missing Puzzle Piece by @tdgal1 and @green-arrows-of-karamel - Oliver Queen's search for love https://archiveofourown.org/works/14491410

Our Two Worlds (They Collide) multi-chapter complete by @bokayjunkie - When Oliver gets into a shoot out with some bank robbers, Thea calls the one person she knows who’s smart and capable enough to help them. https://archiveofourown.org/works/10932066/chapters/24319170

I'm Coming Home To You multi-chapter complete by @foreverfelicityqueen and @holysmoaksoliver - Felicity's life in New York is perfect.  Perfect job, perfect friends, perfect boyfriend.  But the life she's been living for the last seven years is a lie.  And there's only so long this lie can last... https://archiveofourown.org/works/3483224/chapters/7649618

Real Love (Is Never a Waste of Time) multi-chapter WIP by @callistawolf - Oliver and Felicity are CEOs who are more partners than they are rivals, but they still bicker whenever they meet up. Constantly pestered by their families and board members, they turn to each other for a simple solution. But marriage is never simple, especially when these two are involved. When Oliver's younger sister decides to hold her much-anticipated wedding on a tropical island and insists her brother and his wife attend, will the island paradise prove to be the tipping point in their carefully balanced relationship? https://archiveofourown.org/works/13604955/chapters/31233603

LA Devotee by @imusuallyobsessed - Inspired by  “La Devotee” by P!ATD  - LOVED THIS!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/14506083

Re-airrowing 1x16 by @lostolicityscenes - As for a 1x16 : What if Oliver witnessed Diggle training Felicity at the beginning of the episode? https://lostolicityscenes.tumblr.com/post/173497284781/swordandarrow-mentioned-you-in-a

Felicity's Party Raver Hangover Supreme Cure by @felicityollies - The story of how Felicity got her industrial piercing as told by Felicity to her very curious husband. https://archiveofourown.org/works/14515560

Given a Chance by @the-shy-and-anxious-fangirl -  When Felicity confronted Ra's Al Ghul about his plans for Oliver, intending to attempt to appeal to his humanity- she didn't expect that conversation to end with Ra's granting her the chance to tell Oliver everything that was in her heart before she lost him forever. Nor was she expecting to come out of it with a plan, more desperation than anything else, to stop the wheels Ra's Al Ghul had set in motion.             https://archiveofourown.org/works/14511372

Now and Forever multi-chapter WIP by @smoakinggun - Oliver Queen is a single dad who has a 5 year old son. He has been pretty content with how his life is going and how well he is raising his son without his son's mother. But what happens when Oliver decides to pick his son up from school instead of having his sister Thea do it and he meets Felicity Smoak? https://archiveofourown.org/works/10985181/chapters/24464178

Allergic multi-chapter WIP by @ihatethatchick - Just a little soulmate AU idea I'm putting out there as thanks to all the great Olicity authors out there. https://archiveofourown.org/works/11040660/chapters/24610440

Felicity's Sweet Revenge multi-chapter complete by @tinaday3w - Olicity AU - After six years as Oliver Queen's secretary, Felicity is finally quitting her job at Arrow Architecture. And now that she's finished being the stony architect's office slave, Felicity has decided to go out with a bang (hee hee!) and get some fun-and-sexy fantasy fulfillment before she walks out of his life for good.  But nothing ever goes the way you plan, does it? https://archiveofourown.org/works/3606600/chapters/7957536

Compulsory Figures multi-chapter WIP by @machawicket -SUMMARY: A series of moments in Felicity Smoak and Oliver Queen's road to becoming partners on the ice -- and maybe off. Or: it's that figure skating AU no one asked for, because parlez-vous Olympics?? ;) https://archiveofourown.org/works/13731807/chapters/31549149

// @emmaamelia95 // @mel-loves-all // @oliverfel4 // @green-arrows-of-karamel // @coal000 // @miriam1779 // @memcjo// @captainolicitysbedroom // @tdgal1 // @spaztronautwriter // @lalawo1// @quiveringbunny // @wrongshipper // @thebookjumper // @vaelisamaza // @myhauntedblacksoul // @lovelycssefan // @laurabelle2930 //

[fondlinducks]

a snippet of bike ride to mars.

so, a quick side-note: i’m writing a lil book called “bike ride to mars” and i’m purely uploading this because my friend wanted to read it and i kind of want to put my writing on here. but yeah, the main characters for this book are Lauren Moore and Chandler Bury. the context behind the snippet is: Lauren has moved, with her mother and younger brother, to her grandpa’s house down in the south and meets a boy with CAD called Chandler, who lives across the street from her grandpa’s house. Chandler’s incredibly shy and Lauren loves to ask unanswerable questions. Lauren’s mother drags her over to Chandler’s house so that she can try to bond with him so that he doesn’t feel entirely alone all the time. so yeah. happy reading.

word count: 2755 (jeez that’s a lot of words i’m so sorry)

- star.

 'Uh- hey?' Chandler waved his hand in front of my face as I found my eyes fixated onto his bedroom floor. He was wearing an unbuttoned red chequered flannel shirt that overlapped a black t-shirt that had some sort of nerdy band reference on it. His short fringe still flopped over to the left side of his head. He hovered in the doorway, his cheeks flushing a profound red.

  'Sorry-' I apologized for being so deep in thought. Why did I have to think about the stupid little things at the wrong times?

  'It's okay, don't worry.' we stood in the exact same spot for a few seconds before his voice started to perk up again. 'Do you want to come in?'

  'Yeah, sure.' I said, trying to sound as calm and collected as possible.

  I was astounded by how amazing his room was. It was simp-ly everyone's dream bedroom- and if it wasn't practically everyone's fantasy room, then they were probably lying to themselves. The bookcase to the right was stacked from top to bottom with DVDs and astrology books as the channel on the large plasma TV played harmonious indie music. Two large beanbags, a red and a blue one, were squashed together in front of the TV. A large mahogany desk, with a huge PC weighing down on top of it, sat in front of the window that Chandler had watched me dance unaccompanied from. It had a pretty clear sight straight into my bedroom that I could essentially read every single title on the spines of the books on my own shelf. The paint on his walls was a shade of navy blue, excluding away any bright colours that tried to make its way into his room. It seemed dim, but the lights were on. It seemed quiet, but the background music was still playing.

  My eyes ran across the white ceiling just above his bed and noticed how many incandescent glow-in-the-dark stars had been scattered across it. Each little lustrous yellow star had been carefully placed- and that's when I also perceived that each star that made an abstract shape had been connected, star to star, with blemished white chalk. It wasn't striking or obvious if you quickly glanced up at the ceiling and didn't check again. But if you observed it in more detail, you would find snowier and smudged white marks dancing across the roof. I had started to wonder how on earth he could draw each line so carefully without accidentally scrawling a line across the entire thing- and that's when I noticed an un-prominent line inscribed over a small area of the connected stars. It was at a section of the ceiling where Chandler couldn't reach without support. Then a thought sprouted from my brain, linking the accidental line of chalk with it.

  Chandler fell off his chair.

  I turned my head towards his desk again to find the scrap and slightly torn piece of paper with the written words “DON'T WORRY I WON'T TELL ANYONE.” slid under his keyboard.

  'So,' he clapped his hands together as he sank down into the black wheely-chair he had fallen off a few nights ago, 'I'm Chandler?' his introduction came out more as a question, causing me to awkwardly laugh.

 'I'm Lauren.' we exchanged a tight-sealed smile and a nod. He knew I didn't come here voluntarily, so that probably made him feel even more awkward about the entirety of this situation. I perched at the end of his bed- of course it was a waterbed, I thought as it floated up and down as soon as my weight plummeted on top of it. I rolled my eyes a little before they peeked up at the ceiling and stars again. If I had ever decided to randomly draw on my ceiling, mum would go ballistic at me and scream bloody murder until she tore the walls down.

  'Why did you draw on your ceiling?' I pointed upwards at the smeared chalk and glow-in-the-dark stars. He blushed again, as if he was embarrassed about it. I didn't mean to phrase it in a way to make him sound stupid, I was just curious.

  'I don't know really.' he forced out a small chortle before spi-nning the chair around, avoiding eye-contact with me.

  'You do know, you just won't tell me.' he didn't say anything. He was embarrassed. 'I'm not going to walk into school tomorr-ow morning and blurt out in the middle of physics that “Chandler Bury has glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to his ceil-ing”.' my lips pursed as he genuinely laughed before allowing his feet to turn the chair back towards my direction. His bashful eyes slowly rose away from the floor and blinked at me. I smiled at him and he stood away from the chair and sat beside me on the bed, making it bounce up and down as the water mattress rippled from underneath us. He was silent for a few minutes before he let out a sigh.

  'Don't think that I'm weird, or anything-'

  'I've come across a plenty of weirdness,' I stated as his eye-brows raised a little, ' and I don't think you will be able to top the number one weird thing on my weirdness scale.' he chuckled again. He exhaled a breath that he must've held in for a while before the words spilled out of his mouth.

  'I love space,' he blurted out and I found myself watching him struggle to talk about something he loved. It was upsetting. Nobody should ever feel ashamed of sharing the things they loved to someone else. It was like trying to explain questions that I couldn't answer to other people without being dubbed as “weird” or “odd”. '-and sometimes I like watching the stars from that tiny fragment of roof outside my window.'

  'I used to watch the stars from the pavement back home.' I told him. 'My mum always worried about me when she saw me sitting alone in the dark rather than going out with friends.'

  'You can find some sort of comfort when looking up at them though.' he remarked as he squinted his eyes at the ceiling. 'If I've had a shitty day, I would usually sit outside and just watch the sky, really.' Everything he was telling me wasn't as weird as he made it out to be. It seemed generally normal- well to me anyway. If he was telling this to my mum, she would have thought that he was depressed or something. 'I realised a while ago that stars don't really appear when it's foggy, especially in autumn and winter,' I had noticed it too, 'so I literally just copied out the constellations of the Northern Hemisphere onto my ceiling.' I enjoyed star-gazing, but I had no idea what the astrological terms for any of the constellations or stars were. 'So, if it's ever rainy or foggy, I can just lay down in the dark and look at them from here- hence the glow-in-the-dark stars.' I giggled at such a goofy, yet perfect, idea. 'It's weird, I know.'

 'It's really not.' his mouth curved into a smile. 'I'd rate that a negative one-hundred on my weirdness scale; that's negative one-hundred-and-seven spaces away from watching you fall off your chair.' he playfully nudged me and laughed. It didn't feel as awkward to be around him any more.

 'Now that you've asked me why I have kid stickers on my roof,' here comes the question I was actually dreading to answer, 'why do you always dance by yourself-?' and there it was.

 'I don't always dance by myself.' I protested as his right eye-brow arched upwards.

  'Is that so?' he giggled before sitting in the central of the bed, pulling his legs up to his chest and wrapping his arms around his knees. I decided to sit opposite him. 'Because, if I remember correctly, you were dancing alone last night too.' my cheeks were burning up, I hadn't realised he had been watching me last night either. I really had to start drawing my curtains shut whenever I wanted to secretly dance.

  'I'll drop the whole “Chandler-Fell-Off-His-Chair” scenario if you drop this.' I laughed as he shook his head.

  'No no no,' he giggled, 'that's not how it works.' my eyes rolled into the back of my head as I scoffed. 'Answers first, then we drop it.'

  'I don't know.' I lied.

  'You do know, you just won't tell me.' he mimicked back. I groaned at the visual image fizzling around my head of trying to explain the most silliest and pathetic answer to his question.

  In all honesty, I had no idea why I just randomly danced. It was like how I had no clue why I always sang. Whenever mum saw me dance, or listened to me sing, she just expressed how happy I seemed to be and how much she loved it when I would sing or dance, and I liked to make mum happy.

  'My mum tells me I'm more cheerful when I dance- and sing-'

  'It's a good job that I haven't caught you singing to yourself,' he grinned at me before adding 'yet.'

  'Hopefully that “yet” will never happen.' he laughed when I discouraged the concept of ever singing in front of him. It was just simply one of those things that would never happen, despite how much he probably wanted it to.

We sat cross-legged on his bed for almost two hours, talking utter nonsense until mum interrupted our conversation with a knock on the door and opened it up marginally to peek her head through. I was expecting her to explain to Chandler that we had to leave, even though it had only turned 6 o'clock, before single-handedly dragging me out of his house. Instead she just said that she was having another cup of coffee with Amanda and that we would have to leave when she had finished it. I couldn't understand why we had to leave, or why I had to. 

  When the squeaky door finally shut and the sound of foot-steps plonking down the stairs started to parrot outside of his room, Chandler stood away from his bed and started to rummage through his school bag. Textbooks were thrown to one side as he started retrieving many scrunched up pieces of paper from the bottom of his bag. Some of the paper balls had black marker scrabbled over them; they were probably his notes that he had to remember for classes. He dropped his orange English book, with his name written on the front, on top of the pile of textbooks. His handwriting was so immaculate and effortless; it was tiny and precise and way much neater than my own. Part of me wanted to skim through his English book and stare at his beautiful handwriting and read his stories through how he had written them. The last item he flung to the ground before recovering a small black book was a paltry rectangular brown box- the exact same copy that Todd had slipped out of his blazer pocket during lunch on Monday. I felt like tearing up at the sight of the substantial thick words “SMOKING KILLS” printed on the front. He really wasn't trying to help himself to reduce his chances of dying from his unfortunate disease. Like Todd, he seemed cute until he hauled out a cigarette packet. His thin fingers gripped firmly against the book as he stood back up and turned to face me, offering me the little book as I bent down in front of him to pick up the packet. Perhaps it was just an empty box, I prayed as I care-fully opened it up, only to find that the box was fully brimmed with cigarettes. My jaw clenched as I glared at the cigarette packet, and then back at him before his eyebrows fluted at my apathetic stare, letting him know he was unbelievably stupid.

  'What's wrong?' his clutch around the book loosened as he dropped his arm by his side and stared at the cigarette packet.

  'I told somebody to stop smoking these because they were killing a perfectly good set of lungs that someone else, like you, would've wanted.' I snapped. His confused expression slowly dropped into a smirk before his eyes trailed to the floor.

  'So, I take it that everyone's told you the tale about the “Sick Boy”.' he disappointedly chuckled. It didn't make any sense why he would laugh at his own illness.

  'No one at school has told me something that I didn't already know.' When Chandler walked in late during that first physics lesson, everyone started murmuring rude comments about him. I did hear phrases directed at his CAD, but it didn't shock me in a way that I knew nothing about it. It shocked me that people were using his illness as a reason to make his life a living hell. It seemed like he was accomplishing it himself without the help of other people. 'My grandpa told me.' he sadly nodded his head. I stood still for a long time until Chandler rushed up to me and took the packet away from my clasped hands. He brought it up to his head and shook it, rattling the cigarettes together until he stopped.

  'I've never smoked a cigarette in my life.' he opened up the packet and showed me all the stacked up and aligned cigarettes, 'There's still-' he froze for a minute before counting each cigarette, 'twenty cigarettes in this pack. I have never touched them, let alone smoked them.' he smiled.

  Needless to say, I was very confused. What was the purpose in wasting money on buying a packet of cigarettes that he wasn't even willing to use?

  'Why did you buy the packet then?'

  'Again, don't think I'm weird-' I didn't protest against him this time, he was certainly weird. 'when I turned sixteen I wanted to buy a pack of cigarettes, just to know what it felt like to have them in my possession.' I felt my eyebrows crumple together. He let the box fall to the floor before exchanging out the black book, allowing me to take it from him as I stared at the front cover. It had a variety of deep pink swirls that intertwined with the black base, almost resembling a galaxy as white specs sprinkled over it all. Images of planets were stamped on top of the magnificent background. Uncovering my teeth, I smiled a little as Chandler timidly rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. 'When I started talking about different constellations, you looked kind of lost.' he chuckled. Did I really look that dumb-founded when he was discussing every little aspect of astrology I didn't understand? Apparently so.

  'Thank you.' my grin widened half way across my face before Chandler started heading towards the window, shoving it up-wards as I flicked through the book, catching glimpses of some of the constellations he had talked about earlier. 'What are you doing?' I questioned him as he stretched one leg out of the window, planting it on the roof.

  'You can read it whilst we actually watch them,' his other leg jumped out of the window, leaving just his arms gripping onto the windowsill and his head poking out from the darkness. 'I mean, if you want to.'

  'Of course.' I lost count of how many times I had smiled within the past few hours of being with him. He was genuinely so sweet. Skipping towards the window, with the book in my hand, I was ready to hop out of the window-

  Until someone knocked on Chandler's door again.

  Mum gently swung the door open, however Amanda was standing beside her this time. I knew it was time to leave, but I didn't want to go home yet. I knew that I could've waited another day and dropped by to see him after school, but somehow I knew that it wouldn't be the same. If I stepped outside of Chandler's room, we would probably just act like we didn't know each other again, like we were complete strangers.

  I didn't want to seem like a stranger to him.

  I didn't want him to become a stranger either.

[0poole]

My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic

Good God.

I finally managed to watch the final episodes of the show, and even though it wasn’t the most pitch-perfect ending ever (and even though I skipped like all of the final season), I still gotta dish out my thoughts on the whole thing. It’s not my tippy-top most favorite show, but it’s definitely the one with the most lasting impact on me. I mean, considering it created one of the biggest fandoms of all time, I’m pretty sure I’m far from alone there.

Obviously have to start from the beginning. I think I got into MLP around the 2nd season, maybe in the middle of it but definitely before the 3rd. I don’t exactly remember, since it was so long ago, but the first two seasons might hold some of the most saccharine, mindless nostalgia of all. Every single episode holds some spot in my memory, even the filler episodes with the cheesy notes to Celestia at the end of them. Honestly those were adorable, even if they were the classic kid’s show trope of “Let’s explain the moral to the kids who don’t have half a brain” but it’s actually pretty charming. That’s nostalgia talking, by the way. Obviously. If I found a new show today that did that, I’d roll my eyes a little, and I probably did when I was first watching the show. 

But, it’s an understatement that this was my life. Of course, I was at that time of my life where one thing could very easily become my entire world, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t matter to me. The pretty solid, unchanging artstyle gave me an opening to try and draw it, and for years I exclusively drew ponies, and even when I had a human character, I’d only be able to draw them in pony form, so I ended up meshing their stories into fanfiction on how they could become ponies. My “Icon” character at the time, Satyr, was probably the first original character I drew, and I can still remember the exact drawing I made of him. Obviously a pony, he was sort of larger and masculine, conveniently blinking eye so I didn’t have to deal with that, basic hair/tail styles, and for some reason a jagged zig-zag pattern going laterally across his body, like those “How would a horse wear pants?” memes. I thought it was really good, so I kept going, and here I am ages later still drawing stuff. I couldn’t even bare to fully ditch the shitty characters I made (and I’m going to explain them without context because I just feel like it): Satyr got split into his immortal and prince-ly side; Diane, a manic serial killer, shrunk down but kept her impossibly anxious personality; Gaseous is basically all the same, except he doesn’t meet the rest of the crew in what parts of his story I know about; Sistenagon (here we go with the weird names, they don’t mean anything) still kept his (her? Don’t actually remember which I called it) wasp-y nature, except in the form of an insect-based fairy tribe leader; Stelerachyt, who I drew as a Diamond Dog, is still a big, fluffy, dog, but turned into a more regal and kingly type of person; and Myriad Alloy (the only one with an actual pony name) got a complete makeover, and actually became my favorite end result after all is said and done.

Like, I love ranting about these guys. They were basically my own Mane Six. And yes, Satyr TOTALLY dated Twilight. Why wouldn’t he? Main character a Main character. Plus, he was supposed to be me, and I totally wanted to hit that. I’m not ashamed to admit it.

I mean, I guess a big part of why I actually went down that path was because of the large fanbase. I didn’t begin with the beginning of the show, but I guess I came in with the first large wave, so all of the stuff I made got just enough attention to make me think people wanted to see what I was making. If I started out with OCs, no one would’ve cared, and I very well could’ve stopped.

Even apart from that, this show definitely kick started my downward spiral into femininity. I mean, it’s pretty self-explanatory. Everyone “knew” MLP as being something super shallow, only to be enjoyed by shallow little girls, then they pumped out Friendship is Magic and everyone else loved it, so I gave it a shot, and I loved it too. Obviously every fandom has the people who openly, irrationally hate them, but the whole thing was welcoming enough to keep it solidified in my mind, and bish bash bosh, it kept going and will probably keep going into eternity. It’s funny, even then I drew Satyr with the more feminine pony design (not entirely because drawing the male pony type was harder), so I was setting myself up for the future.

I guess this kind of gives me a window to talk about My Life as a Teenage Robot, because for as long as I could remember before actually watching the show, I seriously despised any instance of XJ9 I could find. If an image of her popped up on screen, I would close it faster than if it was porn found while around my parents. I don’t know why she was so harshly ingrained in my mind. You could argue I just hated “girly” stuff before I realized I actually loved it, and didn’t want to face my emotions, but I wasn’t exaggerating at all about that porn thing. I actually couldn’t look at her for more than a second. But, one day I decided to cave in and see what was up, and soon enough she became one of my favorite cartoon characters of all time.

Back to ponies, some of the content produced by the fandom also had some extremely fond memories in my mind. I think I still have some songs by The Living Tombstone and WoodenToaster on my MP3 player (partially because it’s just good stuff) and for some reason playing on MLP-themed TF2 servers was actually really fun too. Some notable fandom people reacting to recent episodes was a spectacle I always looked forward to, and I still am subscribed to Saberspark and Ratchet on Youtube after all this time, probably as well as various other people who are still there but haven’t posted anything since the settling of the fandom. I just remembered, Hotdiggetydemon probably qualifies for all that too, since his .Mov series was the talk of the whole fandom. That, and Friendship is Witchcraft. I had to re-look up the name of that one though, but I still loved it.

I guess I should play favorites, huh? Favorites was the one game everyone in the fandom played. 

Favorite episode: Can’t not be a tie between the 2-parters of Season 2. Discord is a riot, and Chrysalis is actually one of my favorite villain designs of all time. I’m a sucker for both shapeshifters and bugs, so you can’t expect me to not like her. Glad she rode the villain boat till the very end, although reformed Discord is definitely fine too. Plus, the rest of the Changelings turned anyway.

Favorite song: You expect me to not tie things up here? The Flim Flam brother’s Super Cider Squeezy 6000 is great, as are the brothers themselves, and I also love This Day Aria, since it’s the focal point where people realized this show seriously wasn’t just colorful, cute ponies. The Art of the Dress is also pretty catchy. 

Actually, just remembered. Under Our Spell might be it. Took me a while to remember the EQG stuff, but that song is seriously good, and unironically better than the generic dribble that somehow magically beat it.

Favorite background pony(ies): Vinyl and Octavia are a pretty cute duo, and with the killer duet in the Slice of Life episode, ya gotta love em. Funny thing, though: There’s this background pony that looks almost identical to my current self-insert pony OC, with purple hair and a grey coat, with a seemingly writing-based cutie mark and green eyes. He’s even a unicorn too. It wasn’t intentional, I swear.

Favorite CMC: Sweetie Belle is too much. Her little squeaks are too pure. I can’t take it. Applebloom has nice colors, though.

Favorite Princess: If you don’t say Luna you’re a cop

Favorite non-pony species: Obviously Changelings, but after their reformation the honors actually switch to the Kirins, just because of how cool they look. The Yaks are pretty fun too. Speaking of…

Favorite nu-Mane Six (or are they called the School Six? Whatever, you know what I mean): All Yona. And yes, I had to look up her name was, who cares? She’s adorable.

Favorite of the Pillars of Equestria: I honestly love that they made Starswirl an actual character in the show. For the longest time, people just assumed he would stay in the form of Twilight’s Nightmare Night costume forever, but then they actually made him real! That’s really cool.

Favorite Equestria Girls design: Once again, Sweetie Belle steals both this spot and my heart.

And, of course… Favorite of the Mane Six:

Honestly, it just depends on the mood I’m in. Not even remotely lying there.

Fluttershy would’ve been my answer way back then, since I was into the shy types. There’s definitely something still there. You can’t deny that she’s the most cuddly of them all.

Twilight might’ve been a tie for the top around then too, since I was also the too-smart-for-humanity type. That leads into you liking the “smart” ones. Plus, in the latter half of the series, she did feel like she was put one step above the rest of the cast. That kinda makes her feel slightly off, I guess. Still like her, though.

Pinkie Pie’s one of those that I can imagine liking, but if I ever actually had to deal with that much energy I might actually melt. And, not in that I’m-totally-in-love kind of melting. Literal, actual melting. 

Rarity, in terms of concept, is easily my favorite type of character for the show. On the surface, she’s the generic fashionista type that every girl’s show has, but instead of her being someone who “just makes clothes” she’s actually seriously hard working and goes through all the regular motions you’d expect from an artist. Turning such a cliche on its head and giving it a much more realistic image is perfect for this show. Also, she’s purple. I like purple.

Not much really needs to be said about Applejack. She really seems like the most logical one of the group, even at the very beginning. That’s great to have when everyone else is acting like spoiled/sheltered brats (at least, when she’s not acting that way either).

But, I really gotta be honest… I’m never really in the mood for Rainbow Dash. She’s like the opposite of AJ, where she’s always some degree of arrogant, and even though watching her achieve her dreams is nice, her big head gets a little annoying for side gags. Also, if you showed me a plain picture of the Mane Six, I would’ve told you she was the main character instead of Twilight, just because she stands out so much more. I mean, the show isn’t called “Twilight Sparkle: Friendship is Magic,” but still.

If you really want a straight answer, I’m in a Rarity mood right now, so I’ll go with that. It’s probably the safest bet, because, like I said, I do love purple. Not just purple, but purple AND white put together. One of my favorite color combinations. Just add a little gold, and you’re, well, you know...

But… Yeah. All good things had to come to an end. I feel like its time came. Plus, they ended the show with the little story book thing they did in the very first episode, so as far as I’m concerned the series is complete. It did its job, anyway.

[orchestratingkitty]

So I’ve been thinking about this a lot. When I first heard Jensen say Destiel doesn’t exist, I was (like most of the Destiel fandom) pretty hurt. I’ve since seen people attack him, people critique him, people defend him, and people applaud him. So I’m gonna go one-by-one through the most common responses I’ve seen in the past couple days and debunk them.

“He’s cute and hot! How could anyone say he’s a homophobe?”

What the fuck does that have to do with anything? Homophobes don’t look a certain way. You could see an ugly homophobe standing next to a hot as hell homophobe and they’d both be homophobes. The way Jensen Ackles looks doesn’t change the way he is on the inside. Good that we got the dumbest thing anyone’s ever said out of the way.

“He has gay friends/family members, so he isn’t homophobic.”

Uh huh. I once had a discussion with a white dude who loved saying the n word. He loved it. It was his favorite word. He claimed that he had a black friend who was cool with him doing it and thus he used it all the time. The dude had a black friend! Maybe more! Does that change the fact that he was racist? Hell no. There’s actual LGBT+ people out there who have internalized homophobia. If gay people can be homophobic, then why would we dismiss the homophobia of a man who just knows gay people?

“Lots of terrible things happen to him at cons. He’s mistreated.”

This is really true. He is groped and sexually harassed (from what I’ve read) at photo-ops and people ask him uncomfortable questions all the time. This is irrelevant, however. Everyone goes through hard things. Everyone. That doesn’t mean they have the right to say stupid, homophobic shit without consequences. The next time you want to argue on behalf of your favorite actor, do him the justice of making it a relevant and sensible argument.

“He was just stating his opinion.”

Yeah, in the rudest way possible. I’d have much preferred if he answered in the way Jared had when asked about Eileen. “Dean doesn’t room for romance right now” would have been a totally acceptable and neutral way of handling the question. You’re not promising anything and you’re not insulting anybody. The way he answered was beyond stating an opinion - it was rude and that is my main problem with it.

“He gets flustered at cons! He’s shy!”

He has done this before. He’s insulted Destiel before - sometimes to the point where he seemed to support Dean and Cas not having any sort of relationship. He’s never apologized. You know who else is shy? Me. And you guys aren’t gonna say “she gets flustered” before sending me hate for saying this about Jensen. No, you’re gonna attack me anyway. I’m barely an adult and he’s a middle-aged man but you’d be fine with ripping me a new one for critiquing his PR skills. That makes sense.

“Destiel is a fanservice ship.”

No, it isn’t. It’s the exact opposite. People ship Destiel because Cas and Dean have practically tangible chemistry and if one of them were a chick, they’d have banged a long time ago. Don’t fight me on this - it’s true. The biggest argument against it being fanservice is the fact that fans aren’t getting anything they want. They get queerbaiting instead. As I’ll discuss later, you cannot compare the average straight ship with a queer ship. They’re not the same. They don’t get canon/debunked for the same reasons. They’re not treated the same by the creators so we as fans can’t lose sight of their differences either. Hello? Homophobia exists? Jesus, you’d think this goes without saying.

“People shouldn’t ask ship related questions anyway.”

I’ve seen this one debunked already, but I feel like it needs to be said more to get into some people’s thick skulls. I guess I agree. The cast is not responsible for deciding where the story will go. They do not decide which ship becomes canon or not and even though they have views of where a character’s mindset is at times, they can’t be the final authority. I honestly couldn’t care less if Jensen is made uncomfortable by these questions, though. Mainly this is because he isn’t uncomfortable with people talking about straight ships or even about Dean fucking his car. Honestly? Getting “flustered” by a question about a queer ship is fucking pathetic. Jensen. You’re a grown ass man. Grow up. You’re not Dean. No one is accusing you of not being a straight man, okay? No need to be so defensive. Your masculinity isn’t being called into question, so you can put away your macho act and be a human being again, okay?

“Destiel doesn’t exist.”

Where? On the show? Maybe not. They are fictional characters, if that’s what you mean. No, it isn’t real. Neither is Dean Winchester. Neither is Castiel. None of it exists, in reality. But in regards to the fictional realm, what Jensen said was stupid because it simply wasn’t true. Destiel does exist. Thousands of fans interpret Cas and Dean’s relationship to be romantic and thus, to some extent, it exists. I wasn’t gonna say anything about queerbaiting, but the amount of unscripted touching between the two on the show should raise eyebrows now if it doesn’t exist. But if it really and truly doesn’t exist then where is all the defensiveness coming from? Why are people wasting their time making anti-blogs about it, if there’s no threat of it becoming canon? Why are people so passionate about hating it if it isn’t real? You guys do all the arguing for me, don’t you?

This isn’t a common argument, but you get this a lot: “Good job, Jensen, for telling those Destihellers off.”

Jensen Ackles, this is a warning. You’re getting yourself associated with the wrong sort. You do not want people to think you’re warming up to them, I promise. It is probably the shittiest PR move you could make, aligning yourself with homophobes. Don’t be proud of what you said. It was rude and cold and you were insulting a lot of the SPNfamily in the process. No one is saying you have to support Destiel, but this is disgusting.

Okay - here it goes (this has to be said):

It’s been five days since Trump was inaugurated into the presidency and he’s already promised to eliminate LGBT+ rights by placing FADA on his list of priorities. Jensen, you shouldn’t have said anything that could be construed as homophobic. Queer kids all over the country are terrified of how they’ll be treated in the future if FADA gets passed. Right now, you should be supporting these kids, helping them trust themselves, helping them feel assured. Instead, you’re bashing what a lot of people like me are clinging to. You can argue I’m just distracting from the argument, but this is relevant. Jensen is American. He knows what’s going on. Within days of Trump’s inauguration (was it two days after? I don’t remember.), he’s put salt on a wound.

It’s rare to find an LGBT+ character on TV who isn’t a goddamn stereotype. Bi and trans characters are especially hard to find. Bi characters are often ridiculously one-dimensional - a bi girl has a threesome, a bi guy is hiding that he’s actually gay. A lot of bi people like me love that Dean (who we interpret to be bisexual) is not a stereotype. He isn’t what straight people look at and think of as “gay” or “bi”. We cling to him because we’re living in a world where even people in the LGBT+ community can be biphobic. And Jensen just spat in our faces.

Speaking of, can all you non-bi or pan LGBT+ folk please stop using that when defending him? As in, please stop saying “as an LGBT+ person, y’all are overreacting”. If you’re not bi, this might not hurt you as much. I’ve seen gay people actually say “Destiel wouldn’t do anything for gay representation”. In actuality, we’re aiming for bi representation and seeing as you’re gay you have no right to say what would or wouldn’t help in terms of representation. I’m bi and I’m not overreacting. Other bi people out there who had their hearts broken aren’t overreacting. Though, as LGBT+, you should be concerned too. This is about a lot more than just a ship, guys. Thanks to homophobia, not all ships are created equal, and straight ships are not the same as queer ones.

I used to watch Gossip Girl when I was in middle school (embarrassing, I know). Every possible combination of straight ships had at some point become canon - even the more far-fetched ones. Every single one. I’ve since started disliking the show, but it is a useful comparison. No one complains when people bring up Dean/Amara (which was canonically nonconsensual) or Dean/Lisa at cons. They’re ships, too! I thought ships weren’t an appropriate topic at cons? Or is it okay because they’re straight? Is it okay because they actually have a shot? The fact that queer ships are clung onto so desperately due to the likelihood of them never coming true is tragic. We shouldn’t be afraid to say we ship something gay. We shouldn’t be afraid to bring it up in conversation. We should feel the same wobbly uncertainty that is inspired by straight ships. It should be a question of “will they won’t they” (and not in a queerbaiting way) instead of a feeling of “well, I know because it’s gay it’ll never happen but I still think it’s cute.” Most fan-favorite straight ships become canon in some way or another (across the board, in all TV shows) while queer ships are sneered at and thought of as taboo (the fact that Dean/Elena - a ridiculous straight crack ship - gets less hate and question marks than Destiel is a pretty good example of this. Honestly, you guys are fucking sad sometimes).

Why do we have to give up or surrender our ship just because it’s gay? That’s bullshit and I refuse.

I’m not saying Jensen is homophobic, I guess. Don’t attack me for it (or if you do, don’t use any of the arguments I’ve refuted. You’ll look like an idiot). He is obviously uneducated in regards to this. His comment was thoughtless and ignored context and timing. He said something rude that hurt people for all sorts of reasons. He has room to grow and if he does come forward and patch this up, I’ll be the first one to cry tears of joy. I’m against people sending him hate or death threats. Please don’t. Not only is that disgusting, but it sure as hell doesn’t convince him that we’re reasonable people who just want their ship acknowledged.

Also, if someone accuses you of being homophobic, instead of being defensive, maybe think of why they’d say so, and fix that.

Don’t be too quick to defend him. He’s an adult. He can do that himself. All you LGBT+ people out there shouldn’t be apologizing for him, either. Stand by those of us who are genuinely and rightfully hurt. What he said isn’t okay and nobody who’s hurt here is overreacting. If you think this isn’t a big deal, you’re not looking at the whole picture. There is a war being fought in regards to LGBT+ representation in media and someone claiming that gay-shippers are delusional is not helping.

I’m actually hoping that this will receive 0 notes and no one will see it. Like I’ve said, I’m super shy and I don’t really wanna tag this with anything someone will find but at the same time, it annoys me how this has gotten brushed over. I’m posting so late because it took a while for me to actually process my thoughts into something comprehensible.