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tlcwrites · 3 years ago

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Two Hearts Make a Whole

Prompt: “Kiss me again, like you mean it.” Photo prompt below.

Summary: NYC Pride is for celebration, and occasionally, long-overdue revelations.

Word Count: 2,001

Tags/Content warnings: Marvel. Stucky. If you have a problem with it, there's the door. SFW. Slight TFATWS spoilers so read at your own risk. Platonic Reader. Two idiots in love. Technically canon-divergent because I'm still in my everyone-is-alive-and-in-this-timeline happy place that I will never ever leave fuck you very much Russo brothers but not AU. Found family. All the feels. Complete and total LGBTQ+ support. Lots of bad language words because #me. Un-beta'd.

Author’s Note: Okay so yes this is technically 4 weeks late for @autumnleaves1991-blog's Writer Wednesday weekly challenge. BUT, it was incredibly important to me to finish this one before Pride month is over. Made it by the skin of my teeth.

Happy Pride, y’all. If you’re out, you’re amazing. If you’re closeted, you’re amazing. However you identify is valid and important. Trans folx are LGBTQ+. Bisexuals are LGBTQ+. Ace folx are LGBTQ+. Anyone who identifies or thinks they may be as queer is LGBTQ+. All are welcome in the family. You have the right to choose your pronouns and we have the responsibility to use them. Live whatever your truth looks like to you and love each other. Love is love is love is love. If your family doesn’t accept you for you, I’m your mom now and I’ve got mom hugs available on demand. Homophobes and TERFS can fuck off and roll in poison ivy. Always punch Nazis. Pride shouldn't be limited to the month of June. And don’t you dare forget that Black and Brown trans women were the ones who rioted at Stonewall, and we owe everything to their bravery. Don’t forget that much of popular ‘gay’ culture was appropriated from Black women. And for more facts about Pride that you should absolutely know, Rawiyah Tariq (@ mammyisdead on Instagram) has a phenomenally good overview.

“Oh my god.” You gasp loudly. "Oh my GOD. Is that-"

“What?!” Instantly in First Avenger Protective Mode™️, Steve surveys the crowd, wishing he had an actual shield instead of the screen printed one on his shirt. “What is it?”

You gasp again, smacking Sam’s arm repeatedly. “OHMYGOD IT IS HOLY FUCK.”

“First; ow.” Now-Cap rubs his bicep. “Second; clue in the class before Steve has an aneurysm, please.”

Vibrating with excitement doesn’t begin to describe your current state. “HER ROYAL HIGHNESS MISS LEMON MERINGUE IS STANDING RIGHT FUCKING THERE.”

With the finesse of a shampoo commercial, Bucky's dark locks fly as he whips around. “What?!”

“RIGHT THERE RIGHT THERE RIGHT THERE.” You abandon a relieved Sam and latch on to Bucky’s vibranium arm. “Oh my GOD I love her so fucking much.”

“She was robbed, absolutely fucking robbed,” he agrees, craning his neck to get a better view. “Divine Tension’s lip sync was shameful.”

Sam glances at Steve, who is slowly coming out of protector mode. “What the ever-loving hell are they talking about?”

“RuPaul’s Drag Race.” Nat flicks more confetti at both Cap-the-former and Cap-the-current. “They watch it every week.”

“Really, Steven, for a guy with enhanced super senses, you miss a lot.” Tony hefts a bedazzled Morgan higher on his back. The toddler, accompanied by Scott playing air-piano on the ground, sings along with the ABBA song being blasted at full volume through the street. Tony continues as if this is an everyday occurrence. “Why do you think both of your People disappear every Friday evening?”

Ears pink, Steve mumbles something.

“What?!” The only other one with hearing enhanced enough to hear a murmur over the cacophony of several thousand people belting out the chorus of ‘Dancing Queen’ at the top of their lungs, Bucky turns to stare at his friend. “You thought we were datin’?”

Steve’s blush extends down his neck.

You and Bucky stare at each other for a moment before you both collapse on each other, exploding into stomach clenching, thigh slapping laughter.

“I’m gonna guess that’s a ‘no’?” Clint confirms with Nat.

“Oh, a big ‘no’.” She watches affectionately as you and Bucky calm down enough to look at each other, breathe for a second, and both promptly dissolve into hysterics once more. “Like, the biggest ‘no’.”

Sam crossed his arms across his chest, his stoic stance so reminiscent of Steve it’s amusing (as well as a beautiful disparity to the sequined crop top he’s sporting. Oof, those abs.). “How do I not know about this?”

“Because you’re not a former super spy?” The usually-Black-but-today-Rainbow Widow tosses the last of her confetti at Tony, who spins a jubilant Morgan into it. “Or because you and that leggy barista from the lobby coffee shop are too busy playing hide-the-“

“-Baby Shark!” Morgan suddenly shrieks, flailing towards a guy on roller blades wearing a fin and tail (and not much else).

“Yeah,” Nat finishes with a smirk, “Hide-the-Baby Shark.”

Sam flips her a gesture that makes Clint laugh and Bruce sigh.

You and Bucky have finally managed to pull yourselves together. “Oh my god, Steven Grant,” you gasp, wiping tears from your eyes. “That’s the funniest fucking shit I’ve ever fucking heard.”

“Language!”

Steve glares at Tony. “One. Time. It was one. Time.”

Bucky slings his flesh arm around Steve’s shoulders. “Oh, punk. You may have perfect vision now, but sometimes you’re still as blind as you were before.”

Visiortn himself nods sagely. “Humans can be quite unperceptive when it comes to matters of the heart.” Vision casts a fond smile at Wanda, who is using her powers to make Pietro’s tinsel wig fly on and off. “Sometimes you have to look harder to see what’s right in front of your nose.”

A confused frown on that handsome face, Captain Clueless looks at Bucky. “Why do I feel like everyone else knows something that I don’t?”

His bestie sighs deeply. “Because, Stevie, almost everyone else on this planet knows that my tastes tend towards tall, blonde, blue-eyed knuckleheads who have zero sense of self-preservation.”

“And an ass you could bounce a quarter off of,” Scott helpfully supplies.

“And that,” Bucky agrees.

Steve frowns.

You press your palms to your eyes in vexation. “You, Steve. He’s talking about you.” (Seriously, how has this idiot survived for over a century while being so dumb?)

Whatever he was expecting, it was certainly not that. “He-“ The Man With A Plan gapes as he turns to his oldest friend. “You-“

“Me,” Bucky says gently.

Even though you’re slightly surprised that Bucky is going to do this in such a public forum, you can’t help but be so proud of your friend. It has taken a long time for Bucky to believe he deserves to be happy. There are days he still sinks into that dark place, where his inner demons whisper that he should have fought harder against his Hydra captors, and that his past actions were still somehow his fault. Those are the days no amount of baking or Modern Marvels will bring him out of his funk. You, Steve, Sam, and Nat have all held those strong shoulders as they shook with sobs, overwhelmed by the shame and horror at what his hands had done without his consent.

But he’s here. He’s free. And he’s smiling nervously at his best friend.

“I-” Steve is short-circuiting. “Me?!”

“Stevie.” With the kind of tender patience that can only be born of a lifetime of keeping (or attempting to keep) an idiot such as one Steven Grant Rogers from flinging himself headlong into every fight he comes across, Bucky moves his flesh hand to the back of Steve’s neck. His face is full of such soft affection that you almost want to look away for fear of intruding on this suddenly intimate moment. “What do you think ‘til the end of the line’ means, you idiot? You’ve been it for me since I was thirteen-years-old.”

Blue eyes are locked with blue eyes as Steve processes this revelation. “I-” He shakes his head as if to declutter his thoughts. “This whole time?”

“Since the first time I saw that asshole knock you down, and your scrawny ass climbed right back up.” A wry chuckle escapes as Bucky reminices. “You were ninety pounds soaking wet, and you stood there, against a guy who was three times your size, and never waivered for a second. It was magnificent.”

“I don’t like bullies,” is Steve’s quiet response.

Bucky’s grin is adoring. “I know, sweetheart.” He gently strokes the back of Steve’s neck with his thumb. “You’ve always had a heart way bigger than your brain.”

Steve is still back on the first part of Bucky’s admission. “If you’ve felt- if you-” He’s practically pleading. “Why didn’t you say anything then?”

Bucky shrugs, attempting and failing nonchalance. “It was a different time, you know?” He’s uncharacteristically unsure of himself, the subtle waiver in his voice revealing the anxiety born of a lifetime of being forced to hide his truth. “I mean, you remember how it was; you didn’t talk about, no one talked about- about being- about people like...” He swallows thickly. “And I was so scared you didn’t, that you weren’t-” His voice breaks.

Even though you’ve all been emotionally invested in this love story for years, the entire team respectfully pretends not to listen as the former Winter Soldier quietly admits his deepest secret to his closest friend. It’s enraging as Bucky confesses yet another way he's been a victim of his circumstances, and denied his right to live freely without derision. Once more, you’re awed by his resilience.

“-it was a risk I couldn’t take,” Bucky finally gets out, that stubborn fire back in his eyes. “I couldn’t lose you, Steve. I couldn’t chance it. I could live with just being your friend and only your friend so long it meant you were in my life.”

Stunned silence meets the end of his confession. Steve’s face is impassive, those cerulean eyes uncharacteristically inscrutable.

You can all tell Bucky is heading steadily towards dread and heartbreak the longer Steve takes to respond. You and Sam exchange a look, both ready to intervene if Steve demonstrates any of the abhorrent attitudes that were so prevalent in the society of his youth. It would be completely out of character for him, but...

Finally, Steve speaks. “You’re telling me,” he says, his words slow and deliberate, “that you made me wait ninety-three years to tell me you’ve felt the same way about me as I have about you since the day you picked me up out of that alley?!”

The whole found family breaths a collective sigh of relief as Steve pulls Bucky even closer, broad chest to broad chest.

“Okay, to be fair, you were an ice cube for most of that time and I wasn’t exactly available for a relationship.” Bucky’s grin stands in contradiction to his mullish defense. “But yeah, that’s the gist of it.” There’s the Bucky you all know and love, biting his lip with those perfect white teeth. “Now, punk, I’d really like to kiss you now, but first I need you to say you want me to.”

“You-” Steve’s throat works as he attempts- and fails- to rein in his emotions. “You jerk.”

And then the Star Spangled Man seizes the president of the Sometimes-Former-Assassins Club by his ridiculously perfect face and crashes their mouths together.

At any Pride event, seeing two men kissing is, obviously, to be expected. But seeing The First Avenger and The White Wolf attempting to swallow each other’s tongues is not at all routine. As people realize what is happening, the crowd is whipped into a frenzy the likes of which is usually reserved for the aftermath of sporting events and elections that defeat fascists.

Watching the two men embrace, Scott sniffles loudly. “I’m gonna cry, I’m so happy.”

He’s certainly not the only one. Wanda has a watery smile as she wraps her arms around Vision and Pietro; Pepper, Tony, and Bruce are watching with fond parental energy; you and Sam sandwich Peter between the two of you, grins practically splitting your faces. Even Nat’s eyes look suspiciously shiny and she and Clint sling their arms around each other with platonic affection. And that’s not counting the several thousand people who are cheering for love being love being love being love.

When they finally break their embrace, the Centennial twins are startled to see they’ve collected quite an audience.

“Uh, so…” Suddenly bashful, Steve glances back to his- partner? Boyfriend? Soulmate? Is there a word that can accurately describe two people who have found each other time and again in a world that seems hell-bent on keeping them apart?- his ears practically maroon with embarrassment. For a guy with one of the most-recognized faces in the world, Steve is still incredibly and endearingly uncomfortable with attention. “Buck?”

Bucky seems just as stunned as Steve.

Thankfully, the masses demonstrate the usual support that’s the hallmark of Pride. “LOVE IS LOVE!” someone screams in the crowd. It’s quickly echoed, and chants fill the park.

The attention momentarily off them, the former Winter Soldier and his giant himbo of a soulmate look back at each other. You pretend not to watch through the happiest tears as they embrace again, bringing their foreheads together. The relief they share is palpable, as they’re finally able to show the world- and each other- the love they’ve each hidden for so long.

Bucky’s voice is so soft you have to strain to hear it. “You have no idea how much m’in love with you, Stevie.”

“Pretty sure I do,” Steve answers, bringing a hand up to carefully wipe the tears from Bucky’s face. “‘cause it’s as much as I love you, Buck.”

Bucky's answering grin can only be described as saucy. “Then kiss me again, like you mean it.”

And Steve, for once in his long life, does exactly as ordered.

---

A/N: “The Sometimes-Former-Assassins Club” is from Starry_Emerald173’s BRILLIANT The Avengers Wrangler over on AO3. If you haven’t read it yet, drop what you’re doing and do so immediately. Make sure you're not drinking any liquids, or your keyboard/phone may be in peril.

#writer wednesday #steve x bucky #stucky #steve rogers fic #pride #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #stucky fanfic #stucky fanfiction #love is love #happy pride #steve rogers x bucky barnes #platonic reader #my writing

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hellomynameisbisexual · 4 years ago

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Here's a shortlist of those who realized that I — a cis woman who'd identified as heterosexual for decades of life — was in fact actually bi, long before I realized it myself recently: my sister, all my friends, my boyfriend, and the TikTok algorithm.

On TikTok, the relationship between user and algorithm is uniquely (even sometimes uncannily) intimate. An app which seemingly contains as many multitudes of life experiences and niche communities as there are people in the world, we all start in the lowest common denominator of TikTok. Straight TikTok (as it's popularly dubbed) initially bombards your For You Page with the silly pet videos and viral teen dances that folks who don't use TikTok like to condescendingly reduce it to.

Quickly, though, TikTok begins reading your soul like some sort of divine digital oracle, prying open layers of your being never before known to your own conscious mind. The more you use it, the more tailored its content becomes to your deepest specificities, to the point where you get stuff that's so relatable that it can feel like a personal attack (in the best way) or (more dangerously) even a harmful trigger from lifelong traumas.

For example: I don't know what dark magic (read: privacy violations) immediately clued TikTok into the fact that I was half-Brazilian, but within days of first using it, Straight TikTok gave way to at first Portuguese-speaking then broader Latin TikTok. Feeling oddly seen (being white-passing and mostly American-raised, my Brazilian identity isn't often validated), I was liberal with the likes, knowing that engagement was the surefire way to go deeper down this identity-affirming corner of the social app.

TikTok made lots of assumptions from there, throwing me right down the boundless, beautiful, and oddest multiplicities of Alt TikTok, a counter to Straight TikTok's milquetoast mainstreamness.

Home to a wide spectrum of marginalized groups, I was giving out likes on my FYP like Oprah, smashing that heart button on every type of video: from TikTokers with disabilities, Black and Indigenous creators, political activists, body-stigma-busting fat women, and every glittering shade of the LGBTQ cornucopia. The faves were genuine, but also a way to support and help offset what I knew about the discriminatory biases in TikTok's algorithm.

My diverse range of likes started to get more specific by the minute, though. I wasn't just on general Black TikTok anymore, but Alt Cottagecore Middle-Class Black Girl TikTok (an actual label one creator gave her page's vibes). Then it was Queer Latina Roller Skating Girl TikTok, Women With Non-Hyperactive ADHD TikTok, and then a double whammy of Women Loving Women (WLW) TikTok alternating between beautiful lesbian couples and baby bisexuals.

Looking back at my history of likes, the transition from queer “ally” to “salivating simp” is almost imperceptible.

There was no one precise "aha" moment. I started getting "put a finger down" challenges that wouldn't reveal what you were putting a finger down for until the end. Then, 9-fingers deep (winkwink), I'd be congratulated for being 100% bisexual. Somewhere along the path of getting served multiple WLW Disney cosplays in a single day and even dom lesbian KinkTok roleplay — or whatever the fuck Bisexual Pirate TikTok is — deductive reasoning kind of spoke for itself.

But I will never forget the one video that was such a heat-seeking missile of a targeted attack that I was moved to finally text it to my group chat of WLW friends with a, "Wait, am I bi?" To which the overwhelming consensus was, "Magic 8 Ball says, 'Highly Likely.'"

Serendipitously posted during Pride Month, the video shows a girl shaking her head at the caption above her head, calling out confused and/or closeted queers who say shit like, "I think everyone is a LITTLE bisexual," to the tune of "Closer" by The Chainsmokers. When the lyrics land on the word "you," she points straight at the screen — at me — her finger and inquisitive look piercing my hopelessly bisexual soul like Cupid's goddamn arrow.

Oh no, the voice inside my head said, I have just been mercilessly perceived.

As someone who had, in fact, done feminist studies at a tiny liberal arts college with a gender gap of about 70 percent women, I'd of course dabbled. I've always been quick to bring up the Kinsey scale, to champion a true spectrum of sexuality, and to even declare (on multiple occasions) that I was, "straight, but would totally fuck that girl!"

Oh no, the voice inside my head returned, I've literally just been using extra words to say I was bi.

After consulting the expertise of my WLW friend group (whose mere existence, in retrospect, also should've clued me in on the flashing neon pink, purple, and blue flag of my raging bisexuality), I ran to my boyfriend to inform him of the "news."

"Yeah, baby, I know. We all know," he said kindly.

"How?!" I demanded.

Well for one, he pointed out, every time we came across a video of a hot girl while scrolling TikTok together, I'd without fail watch the whole way through, often more than once, regardless of content. (Apparently, straight girls do not tend to do this?) For another, I always breathlessly pointed out when we'd pass by a woman I found beautiful, often finding a way to send a compliment her way. ("I'm just a flirt!" I used to rationalize with a hand wave, "Obvs, I'm not actually sexually attracted to them!") Then, I guess, there were the TED Talk-like rants I'd subject him to about the thinly veiled queer relationship in Adventure Time between Princess Bubblegum and Marcelyne the Vampire Queen — which the cowards at Cartoon Network forced creators to keep as subtext!

And, well, when you lay it all out like that...

But my TikTok-fueled bisexual awakening might actually speak less to the omnipotence of the app's algorithm, and more to how heteronormativity is truly one helluva drug.

Sure, TikTok bombarded me with the thirst traps of my exact type of domineering masc lady queers, who reduced me to a puddle of drool I could no longer deny. But I also recalled a pivotal moment in college when I briefly questioned my heterosexuality, only to have a lesbian friend roll her eyes and chastise me for being one of those straight girls who leads Actual Queer Women on. I figured she must know better. So I never pursued any of my lady crushes in college, which meant I never experimented much sexually, which made me conclude that I couldn't call myself bisexual if I'd never had actual sex with a woman. I also didn't really enjoy lesbian porn much, though the fact that I'd often find myself fixating on the woman during heterosexual porn should've clued me into that probably coming more from how mainstream lesbian porn is designed for straight men.

The ubiquity of heterormativity, even when unwittingly perpetrated by members of the queer community, is such an effective self-sustaining cycle. Aside from being met with queer-gating (something I've since learned bi folks often experience), I had a hard time identifying my attraction to women as genuine attraction, simply because it felt different to how I was attracted to men.

Heteronormativity is truly one helluva drug.

So much of women's sexuality — of my sexuality — can feel defined by that carnivorous kind of validation you get from men. I met no societal resistance in fully embodying and exploring my desire for men, either (which, to be clear, was and is insatiable slut levels of wanting that peen.) But in retrospect, I wonder how many men I slept with not because I was truly attracted to them, but because I got off on how much they wanted me.

My attraction to women comes with a different texture of eroticism. With women (and bare with a baby bi, here), the attraction feels more shared, more mutual, more tender rather than possessive. It's no less raw or hot or all-consuming, don't get me wrong. But for me at least, it comes more from a place of equality rather than just power play. I love the way women seem to see right through me, to know me, without us really needing to say a word.

I am still, as it turns out, a sexual submissive through-and-through, regardless of what gender my would-be partner is. But, ignorantly and unknowingly, I'd been limiting my concept of who could embody dominant sexual personas to cis men. But when TikTok sent me down that glorious rabbit hole of masc women (who know exactly what they're doing, btw), I realized my attraction was not to men, but a certain type of masculinity. It didn't matter which body or genitalia that presentation came with.

There is something about TikTok that feels particularly suited to these journeys of sexual self-discovery and, in the case of women loving women, I don't think it's just the prescient algorithm. The short-form video format lends itself to lightning bolt-like jolts of soul-bearing nakedness, with the POV camera angles bucking conventions of the male gaze, which entrenches the language of film and TV in heterosexual male desire.

In fairness to me, I'm far from the only one who missed their inner gay for a long time — only to have her pop out like a queer jack-in-the-box throughout a near year-long quarantine that led many of us to join TikTok. There was the baby bi mom, and scores of others who no longer had to publicly perform their heterosexuality during lockdown — only to realize that, hey, maybe I'm not heterosexual at all?

Flooded with video after video affirming my suspicions, reflecting my exact experiences as they happened to others, the change in my sexual identity was so normalized on TikTok that I didn't even feel like I needed to formally "come out." I thought this safe home I'd found to foster my baby bisexuality online would extend into the real world.

But I was in for a rude awakening.

Testing out my bisexuality on other platforms, casually referring to it on Twitter, posting pictures of myself decked out in a rainbow skate outfit (which I bought before realizing I was queer), I received nothing but unquestioning support and validation. Eventually, I realized I should probably let some members of my family know before they learned through one of these posts, though.

Daunted by the idea of trying to tell my Latina Catholic mother and Swiss Army veteran father (who's had a crass running joke about me being a "lesbian" ever since I first declared myself a feminist at age 12), I chose the sibling closest to me. Seeing as how gender studies was one of her majors in college too, I thought it was a shoo-in. I sent an off-handed, joke-y but serious, "btw I'm bi now!" text, believing that's all that would be needed to receive the same nonchalant acceptance I found online.

It was not.

I didn't receive a response for two days. Hurt and panicked by what was potentially my first mild experience of homophobia, I called them out. They responded by insisting we need to have a phone call for such "serious" conversations. As I calmly tried to express my hurt on said call, I was told my text had been enough to make this sibling worry about my mental wellbeing. They said I should be more understanding of why it'd be hard for them to (and I'm paraphrasing) "think you were one way for twenty-eight years" before having to contend with me deciding I was now "something else."

But I wasn't "something else," I tried to explain, voice shaking. I hadn't knowingly been deceiving or hiding this part of me. I'd simply discovered a more appropriate label. But it was like we were speaking different languages. Other family members were more accepting, thankfully. There are many ways I'm exceptionally lucky, my IRL environment as supportive as Baby Bi TikTok. Namely, I'm in a loving relationship with a man who never once mistook any of it as a threat, instead giving me all the space in the world to understand this new facet of my sexuality.

I don't have it all figured out yet. But at least when someone asks if I listen to Girl in Red on social media, I know to answer with a resounding, "Yes," even though I've never listened to a single one of her songs. And for now, that's enough.

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aegialia · 3 years ago

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self-indulgent reflection on being on tumblr

so i recently hit 1000 followers on here and this blog has existed for almost exactly 8 years, so i wanted to ramble about tumblr and my experience of it for awhile. under the cut so definitely feel free to ignore this.

i started this blog right around when i was fourteen and had just started high school. at that point, i was out to my parents (and no one else) as bi, i had an inkling i was Struggling with something but i had no idea what and felt like i couldnt actually acknowledge it, and i had left leaning but very vague politics. tumblr definitely has shaped my journey around sexuality/gender/mental health/politics, both for good and for ill.

for good:

seeing other ppl talk about being lesbians helped me realize i could be a lesbian w/o being a traitor to the concept of bisexuality. hearing trans ppl talk about their experiences and explaining non-binary stuff and dysphoria helped me understand what i was going through

i don’t like talking about my mental health stuff in detail on here, but suffice to say, i was Going Through it in high school. i’m still going through it now, but i am in a much better place (thank you medication and 7 years of therapy!). seeing ppl talk about the weird, dumb, awful parts of mental illness let me acknowledge that i was going through those things too, that i wasnt like evil for feeling like that, that i could change. people talking about adhd/autism was particularly helpful---being able to identify why i’d always felt like my brain just didn’t work right is the first step in the (ongoing) process of not hating myself for the way my brain works

politics is definitely the area where i think tumblr was the best for me. i got exposed to so many opinions i definitely wasn’t hearing in school, from intelligent, well-read people who could articulate theory in ways i could understand. tumblr didn’t give me my politics and i didn’t learn everything i know about theory from it, but the communities of people i was around pointed me in the right directions. tumblr was also a good place to learn how to react to criticism. this doesn’t seem to be most people’s experience, but getting called out over minor things on tumblr genuinely helped me learn how to take a step back, look at my behavior, apologize, and try to change, which, as it turns out, is a helpful skill irl as well

for ill:

wrt sexuality and gender, it’s probably pretty obvious someone who’s journey is ‘cis bi girl -> cis with a million different microlabels -> nb w a million different microlabels for both sexuality and gender -> nb butch lesbian who’s not super into romance’ would have some bad times on tumblr. the bi circles i was in made being a lesbian seem like an immoral choice, the ‘’’mogai’’’ (or whatever u wanna call them) circles made me feel like i had to divy up and perfectly label every aspect of myself in a way that really wasn’t helpful for me, the lesbian circles i was in made me feel like being a lesbian was about ending up in a monogamous butch/femme cottagecore relationship and that there was something wrong with me for not really wanting that. to be clear i think microlabels can be very helpful for people/a monogamous butch/femme relationship is a perfectly fine thing to want, they just didn’t work for me. im very very glad ive reached a point in my life where i dont feel the need to stay up to date on the latest discourse and am more focused on finding a way to exist that is comfortable for me and supporting my community irl. 10/10 would recommend to everyone

not going to get deep into it, but social media is. not good for my brain in general. i still enjoy using tumblr, but these days im pretty careful to step back from it frequently and treat it as an occasional hobby.

the cons of political stuff on tumblr are probably also very obvious. there are some just awful discussions on here and the culture surrounding the way we handle bad behavior and justice and accountability and working to become a better person and make up for the harm you’ve caused has historically been fucking awful and trying to unlearn it and find new ways to engage with this stuff is exhausting.

for all that i’ve changed over the course of having this blog, this blog has stayed pretty fucking static. i started out being super into diana wynne jones and the iliad and those are still two of my biggest interests and things i talk about the most on here. there are definitely specific things that have petered away (i started this blog almost entirely to keep up with good omens fan stuff and i pretty much haven’t touched it since the miniseries came out, i haven’t sought out pacific rim/supernatural/elementary/mcu content in years), but im still pretty much interested in the same things. i like relatively small fandoms, i like weird side characters, i like to be a grumpy child playing with my toys in the corner. when a fandom im in gets popular, i tend to stop engaging with it entirely (hello rqg/tma/good omens/enola holmes!). i dont think its a pretentious ‘i liked it before it was cool’ thing so much as a ‘people get Weird and awful when a fandom hits a certain level of popularity and there’s too much content and i really, really hate the bad faith arguments larger fandoms tend to spawn’ thing. i’ll consume content from big fandoms, but i pretty much refuse to actually engage with them at this point.

one of the stranger parts of my experience of tumblr is the social side. i’ve never really known how people make friends online---how do you go from liking each other’s posts and occasionally replying to them to actually being friends who communicate off social media? i’ve had conversations with ppl on tumblr and i’ve had sort-of friendships that are contained to tumblr where i’d like to get to know them better, but i’ve never figured out how to do that. my best friend’s job is pretty much to make friends/connections on the internet (she’s an activist and artist), my dad knows people everywhere in the world from twitter, and i’m just sitting here like a little old grandpa who doesn’t understand how you can have internet friends.

at this point in my life, i’m fine with this, but this has made me feel real fucking bad in the past---like, if everyone online, even the ppl who say they’re weird and brainbad in a similar way to me, can make friends on the internet, what’s wrong with me? particularly in high school and my first year of college, when i was just horribly lonely all the time, it made me feel super disconnected and like there was something fundamentally bad about me. these days, i’m a lot chiller about it. i use social media to engage with stuff i enjoy and share my thoughts about it. it’s okay that my social difficulties extend to me not knowing how to use the internet to socialize.

on a somewhat related topic, it’s wild that i have 1000 followers. obviously, that’s not an actually super large number and a huge number of them are probably bots or inactive. if you post consistently for eight years and follow lots of people, like i do, it’s not a surprise to end up with this many followers. it is also, thankfully, the sort of followers that are not fans. probably most ppl following this blog dont remember why they followed and dont know anything about me or my interests. this sounds like its meant to be depressing but it’s not. i like that my way of engaging w the internet lets me do pretty much whatever i want and no one will care. the mere concept of being. like. tumblr famous in any capacity, even just in one community/fandom, is viscerally horrifying to me.

i really enjoy the space i’ve created for myself on here. on one hand, going back through my blog is obviously embarrassing and full of hating my past self. on the other hand, i now have a very nice collection of things i enjoy in this blog. i like seeing what i’ve been interested in and (when i’m in a good mental health place) i like to be able to remember how i thought and talked about the things i loved when i was younger. im not at the place in my life where i can love a younger version of myself, but sometimes i can laugh at zir with a level of fondness.

i’ve always been paranoid about sharing details about my life on here (and the fact that my parents have always been able to see it certainly contributed), so the version of jack on here is a carefully curated version, who’s super enthusiastic about the things they love, was very conscientious about apologizing and trying to do better when ze messed up, and tried to be polite to others. that’s a younger version of myself that i’m closer to being able to have compassion for than the version i find in essays and poems and memories.

i’m starting grad school in ten days and i’m still using the blog i started when i began high school. tumblr has helped me in a lot of ways and hurt me in a lot of ways, but i still have to admit that it’s been a significant factor in shaping me. i’d be incredibly embarrassed to admit that irl, but it’s true. other than my family and like one friend, this blog is one of the only things that’s ‘known’ me since i started high school. i’ve changed so much in that time and im glad to have this weird little record of myself throughout those changes, even if i’d probably warn my younger self away from tumblr if i could go back in time.

tl;dr i have had a mixed experience on tumblr and i have mixed feelings about that experience. no idea if anyone read any of this very long, very rambling internet memoir

p.s. fun facts about this blog:

i’ve never changed my icon or blog title

i recently got a second version of the poster i got my blog title from. i chose my blog title by looking at what was hanging on the wall directly in front of me.

my original url was gloomthkin. this was not, as you’d probably assume, an otherkin thing. i had literally no idea what otherkin was at that point. i’d just learned the word gloomth from a bill bryson book and thought it would be cool n edgy to be the child of the quality of gloom. i changed my url after i learned what otherkin was and realized everyone probably assumed something about me that wasn’t true which i hated (not bc i had an issue w otherkin, just bc i don’t like ppl thinking untrue things about me)

during my good omens days, i once sent a tumblr ask to nail guyman which, in retrospect, was kinda rude. i stand by the content but id never send an ask like that now. he replied to it privately in a way that so deeply embarrassed and shamed 15 year old me that i’ve never gotten over it. i still get nervous and embarrassed when i see anything about him or his books

#gloomth and circumstance #this is definitely not required reading!#i just felt like rambling for a very long time about my feelings and my blog #w bonus blog trivia at the bottom that amuses me and probably no one else

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kickingitwithkirk · 4 years ago

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Greetings From Austin

Pairing: Alpha!Jensen Ackles x Alpha!Jared Padalecki x Omega!OFC

Summary: Jensen and Jared are at odds over a monumental decision that changes their lives in a way they couldn’t have envisioned.

Word Count: 2616

Warnings: a/b/o, homophobia, bisexuality, biphobia, angst, cursing, self doubt, depression/anxiety, medical stuff, sexual dysfunction, infertility

*additional warnings to be added in future parts.

A/N: Here we go again with one my weird as hell dreams, series Inspired by this art.

A/N II: There is no intentional hate or malevolence intended towards any of the Ackles or Padalecki families. This is a purely fictional piece containing real and created persons/names/events set in the fictional A/B/O verse. Some dates/events altered to fit story.

*no beta-all mistakes are mine

*divider by @writeyourmindaway

*images found online

Prologue

Austin, TX

Mid July

“Babe,” Jensen softly says in a low voice to the person seated next to him in the waiting room, “Babe,” he says a bit louder, still getting no response. Leaning close, he blows into their ear.

Jared starts, his “what” muffled by the finger he’s been chewing on.

“You know you can’t do that, don’t want you getting sick.” Taking his hand Jensen pulls it away from his pretty pink lips, gently caressing the finger. Jared had finally stopped chewing on his hands when Covid-19 became widespread.

“Where’s your gum?” Jared bite his lip not answering.

Sighing, Jensen shifts retrieving his pack and hands a piece to him. “What’s got you masticating again?” He inquires as Jared pops the stick in his mouth.

Jared chews the gum nervously weighing how to answer the question knowing Jensen won’t accept anything less than the whole truth. “What if something goes wrong again because of me.”

Jensen’s brow furrowed. He learned years ago that while their relationship is one of equals, he had to be lead Alpha when Jared’s mental state overwhelmed him as it had the last few weeks.

***

After the public announcement in March 2019 that season fifteen would be Supernaturals last, they had agreed when finished with the pickups they would take an extended break, return to Austin and concentrate on their marriage.

Jared intended to stop acting indefinitely, pursuing other interests and Jensen wanted to concentrate on his music.

Of course, things didn’t quite end up how they planned.

Jared entered negotiations to star in the Walker, Texas Ranger reboot, along with being an executive producer. Jensen got a call from Kripke wanting him for the role of Soldier Boy in The Boys third season.

But by March of 2020, everything came to a halt thanks to the Corona-virus.

The shutdowns left Supernaturals final two episodes with no definitive filming date and their seemingly never ending last season put their other projects on hold.

For the first time in years they had the luxury of a leisurely schedule, not having to be somewhere on a timetable, they could communicate with friends and family uninterrupted, deal with their other businesses, charities, etc, leaving most days free to enjoy being together without constraint.

But even amazing, awesome, vigorous sex on every horizontal/vertical surface that could support the two big Alphas only filled so many hours and like many couples, they started getting each others nerves and looked for other ways to stay occupied.

By late May, Jared was unable to sleep or eat, even going out of the house became a chore. When he hit a consecutive fourth day in bed, Jensen bodily dragged him into the bath for a desperately needed shower and loaded him in his truck driving to his doctor's.

Upon checking in they were told patients only allowed in the facility. Jared started panicking, saying he was having chest pains and couldn’t breath. He was rushed in with Jensen hot on their heels after morphing into an overprotective Alpha mate no one was stopping.

Jared’s doctor deduced with the lock-downs prohibiting him from his routine checkups and periodic adjustments needed to his medications triggered this episode.

The first step was to wean him off his current prescriptions and change to a newly approved, alternative regime. He was checked in a facility for ten days under observation while detoxing off his meds.

His therapist switched his twice weekly tele-counseling sessions to daily for the foreseeable future and Kodas certification as an emotional support animal was approved. His progress was slow but he was returning back to his sweet natured, big hearted, exceptionally tactical, overgrown puppy self.

When the surprise call from the clinic came a few days ago about an appointment opening, Jensen initially didn’t want it, still in his overly excessive protective Alpha mode. Jared’s outburst made him relent, fearing they were on a collision course for a major setback if he didn’t.

And Jensen, being Jensen, went overboard to ensure the appointment was absolutely private.

Part I

Jared was about to speak when a woman in scrubs called out, “Mr. Bonham and Mr. Page.” they got up crossing over to her, “Hello, I’m Sissy, Dr. Rodgers nurse, please follow me.”

They pass through the doorway leading through a maze of halls like that of any other medical clinic except this one specialized in a very specific service.

The nurse opens a door near the back of the clinic gesturing for them to enter the spacious office, “Please have a seat, the doctor will be with you shortly.” She closed the door and they sat down in the pair of chairs directly in front of the large, dark mahogany desk.

Jensen, scenting Jared’s nervousness, lifts his right hand kissing his palm, making him chuckle at the tickle of Jen’s soft beard before twining their fingers together and setting them on his left thigh, smiling reassuringly.

There was a brief knock before the door opened and an older, silver haired Beta entered. “Hello, I’m Dr. Rodgers, how are we doing today?” He asks, moving to his chair behind the desk.

Jared gave him a tight smile and Jensen remained placid.

The doctor raises an eyebrow, “Relax Mr. Page, this is just a visit to go over the paperwork before deciding about how we proceed, not the Spanish Inquisition.” Jared releases his held breath but couldn’t completely calm himself.

“I know the process can be overwhelming but I must ask, is there something we’ve done to make you uncomfortable?” Dr. Rodgers inquires.

“No, everyone’s been really nice, very professional. It’s just we..we had issues the first time we attempted to do this.” Jared finished his sentence quietly, in the recess of his mind; something bad is gonna happen and it’ll be my fault.

Jensen squeezes his hand tighter, instinctively sensing Jared’s mind was trying to spiral again, “When tried this before someone leaked our plans to the media. It wasn't ever proven the clinic was involved but...”

“We do everything possible to keep our clients anonymity protected here. All of our staff have been thoroughly vetted and sign NDA, given your professions, you're familiar with how they work. Your real identities will remain completely confidential, even if you choose to not proceed. It is why you chose this particular clinic, yes?”

“Yes, it is.” Jensen replied.

“How about we get this bit of paperwork out of the way, then we can have a more relaxed visit. I’ve gone over the applications you both submitted and have noted a few discrepancies in the medical section that need clarification before we proceed,” He opens the top file, “Mr. Bonham, why did you omit Genu Varum from your medical history?”

Jensen kept his expression neutral as he felt his stomach automatically clench. He had been mercilessly teased throughout his childhood about his bowed legs by his older brother Josh and later his buddies from school when they’d come over to hang out. By the time he was in high school Jensen’s extraordinary looks and personality were what got people’s attention first. Nowadays, many a fanfic waxed poetic about those bowed legs.

“The questionnaire inquired about inherited genetic medical conditions and since mine isn’t, I didn’t think it was necessarily applicable.” Jared hears an edge creeping into Jensen’s voice and gives their tangled fingers a quick squeeze.

“Did you see an orthopedist and were they able to determine what caused the condition? Did they suggest any surgical procedures or therapies to straighten your legs?”

“I was born a preemie, the orthopedists my parents consulted decided my condition was attributable to that.” Jensen replies tersely, dropping his vocal range. Jared gripped his hand harder, telling him to cool the attitude. “The doctor didn’t recommend surgery but sent me to physical therapy, thought it would help them straighten as I grew.”

“So no others in your immediate family have this issue?”

“Everyone my family has straight legs, including my three children.”

Jared piped in, “He hates it but he does have an exercise regimen; stretching, strength training. Oh, he also takes several different vitamins, omega oils, turmeric and extra vitamin D to support his joints.” They watched the doctor scribble a few more notes in the file before closing it.

“Mr. Page,” Jared sits up straighter in his chair, “I appreciate that you went into detail about your mental health status. I see you’ve recently been hospitalized, your medications have been changed to an alternative regiment and you’ve also increased your therapy sessions?”

Jared’s interview continued for another twenty minutes as Dr. Rodgers questioned him in depth about his depression and anxiety, feeling said anxiety ratcheting up so he focused on Jensen’s thumb rhythmically moving over his hand and used every ounce of his acting skills to appear confident and in control.

Dr. Rodgers closed his file, “I only have a few general questions left then we can discuss how you wish to proceed.”

After a more relaxed, genial conversation with the doctor, Sissy took them to a couple private rooms with paraphernalia to help stimulate them into producing a couple semen samples.

Jensen was getting close to finishing with his favorite spank-bank fantasy when he felt Jared’s frustration across their bond.

~~~

Jared couldn’t get aroused.

He felt as useless as his flaccid cock.

His doctor warned him that loss of sex drive could be a possible side effect of his new regiment until his body adjusted to it. He had struggled with temporary impotence a few times on his old meds, always fearful Jensen would finally see him as undesirable, no longer a satisfactory mate.

Rationally, he knew it was his illness causing these exceptionally hard to deal thoughts recently and the nagging idea this wasn’t the right thing for them to attempt again continually kept creeping in.

Jensen’s unspoken reluctance about having more children at his age was also weighing on his conscience, warring against his own biological longings.

They had a humongous argument when he told Jensen about taking the appointment. Jen thought this was the wrong time to attempt it again, pointing out he was just getting his equilibrium back setting Jared went off on a rant about how he no longer wanted him and would leave him like Genevieve had because he was too broken to deal with anymore.

Unmitigated anguish was written across Jensen’s beautiful features, the very notion that Jared could conceivably believe that he’d ever abandon him made his soul hurt in such a way no verbal language on earth could ever express his devastated feelings traveling across their bond.

***

Everything they’d been through; from that bar fight solidifying their friendship, Jared’s first breakdown, the years of living as roommates while secretly a couple to finding wives who understood their unique relationship and still married them both in 2010.

The joyous arrival of JJ three years later that unfortunately exacerbated Genevieve's frustration of not being able to conceive coming out with a vengeance at Jared. His unexpected breakdown in Switzerland was the final nail in their marriage. Gen was there for him but in the end it was all too much and she filed for divorce.

Shortly after, Jared’s iCloud account was hacked. It was believed, but never conclusively proven, that Gen was behind it since her lawyer was trying to break their prenuptial agreement, the videos documenting his private and explicit sexual relationship with Jensen were legally considered adulterous. In the end, the court upheld the legal document but the ramifications...

They were summoned to L.A. for the meeting from hell with WB executives, both convinced it was the end of Supernatural and their careers.

After the reaming out, they each received a weeks pay suspension to cover some of what it was gonna cost PR in time and money to deal with the inevitable repercussions and placate the show's sponsors.

How would the show’s fans react? Would they still be able to accept them as brothers only on TV while in real life they were involved in a highly stigmatized relationship?

When they returned to work there was an atmosphere of tension that hadn’t existed before. It was an open secret that all shows had their share of bitchiness and backstabbing behind the scenes. Jensen may have the thicker skin, keeping tighter control on his emotions, but Jared knew it hurt him just as deeply the loss of some of their friends because of prejudicial, social beliefs that two Alpha males shouldn’t be involved.

Jensen’s parents showed up unexpectedly in Vancouver a few weeks later. What started out as a not quite comfortable visit quickly deteriorated with his religiously conservative parents. They had not raised him like this and blamed Jared, saying he had corrupted him, leading him into a sinful lifestyle. He needed to repent and return to his wife to whom he had made a commitment before god.

Jensen blew up, replying it was none of their business, it was between them and oh, yeah, Danneel knew about them before marrying him and they better not say anything to her. Without another word his parents left. When he later called them to make amends, his mother coolly stated that he was no longer part of their family and to never contact them again.

Three months after the twins were born in 2016 came the finalization of Jensen’s divorce from Danneel, painful but congenial. They easily agreed on joint custody and still spent most holidays together. Jensen gave Dani financial security in their settlement, he wanted to make sure she didn’t have to worry about working again unless she wanted to.

All these years later, Jared continually has nagging thoughts that they had let everybody down. They received support when they publicly came out as bisexual then lost some of it when they married, being mocked for not coming out as gay.

***

There was another knock at the door and Jared ignored it, it was that nurse checking on his lack of progress again. The knock turned into pounding, “Jared, open this door now dammit!” He flinched realizing Jensen knew what was going on with him. Releasing the privacy latch and opening the door a crack he saw concerned green eyes only.

“Sorry, I thought you were that nurse,” he stepped away and sat back down as Jensen came in and re-latching it behind him. “She came to get me when you stopped answering,” Jensen said, walking over to him and started running his thick fingers through his husband’s long hair, “what’s going on babe?”

He glances up knowing that Jensen already knew, “It’s okay Jay, take as long as you need.” He paused at the unpleasant scent wafting around him. “If you’d be more comfortable we could do this at home…” Jared shakes his head, “There’s the risk of damage, contamination and or not able to get it back in time that could make the semen unusable.” Jared quotes from a website.

Jensen softly chuckled, “Nerd.”

Jared notices the bulge in his jeans, “You didn’t...”

“Drain the snake..choke the chicken..spank the monkey.”

“Fuck, okay, you didn’t! Stop using old man slang.” He shook his head smiling at Jensen intentionally goading him.

Jared reached up for the hand playing in his hair, grasping it to draw Jensen down next to him.

“Jack, I don’t want to wait any longer on doing this. I love JJ and the twins, you know I do, but they'll always be yours and Danneels. I know the timing could be better... but I'm almost thirty-eight and I want my..our own pups running around the house driving us crazy.”

“For the next eighteen years?”

“Minimum.”

tbc

Part II

SPN: @donnaintx @lyarr24

GFA: @babypink224221 @waywardjoy @let-me-luve-you @all-4-wincest

Sam/Jared @idreamofplaid

Dean/Jensen: @flamencodiva

#J2 #alpha!jensen ackles x alpha!jared padalecki #jared x jensen #a/b/o #alpha!jensen x alpha!jared x omega!ofc #alpha!jensen ackles #alpha!jared padalecki #a/b/o ofc #Jensen Ackles #Jared Padalecki #spn au #husbands

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astralprcjects · 3 years ago

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first of all, if you saw me accidentally post this when it was half done, no you didn’t <3 but anyway, i’m following the trend and throwing out some ideas for connections !! i’d love some new plots, so if any of these catch your eye pls don’t hesitate to come yell at me :))) discord is the best place to reach me ( jojo she-ra#5493 ) or tumblr ims work just fine too !!

i get very confused whether likes are just for support or if you’re interested in any plots so pls pls just dm me or drop a reply and i’ll come to you !! i’m not scary i promise just nervous like a shaky dog <3

a few important points:

mars is a lesbian, so romantic plots can only be taken up by female and non binary characters.

rosalie is bisexual and polyamorous – they have no interest in monogamy. she likes to form connections with people, and so much prefers casual flings and dating with no strings over one night stands.

both of my characters use she and they pronouns interchangeably. please don’t refer to them as women or misgender them in any way ( i’m always happy to answer any questions if you’re confused !! )

── 👻 M A R C E L I N E

extroverted friends – a lot of mars’ friends are introverts and she loves them dearly, but sometimes they just needs to be around people who match their energy !! so friends who will happily get excited with her and share their own passions in return ?? they’re extremely loyal and latch onto people quickly, so would be over the moon for that energy to be matched. ( open – all )

the non-believer – this muse doesn’t believe in ghosts or aliens or anything supernatural. so, naturally, mars has made it her life’s mission to change their mind. they have constant debates and light-hearted fights; they both enjoy trying to prove the other wrong. ( open – all )

horror movie besties – mars loves a good scary movie, but they always appreciates a familiar shoulder to hide behind. she and this character share a passion for horror movies and have regular movie nights. they always accompany each other to see the latest scary flicks in the cinema or re-runs of old classics. ( open – all )

unrequited crush – someone that mars is close friends with, who she is sure she feels more than friendship for. they respect their boundaries and will always be afraid to tell them, but can’t help but quietly pine from a far. ( open – f/enby )

requited crush – same as above, except the other person feels the same and now they’re dancing around each other ( open – f/enby )

friends who grew apart – they used to be close, mars used to tell them everything, but something pulled them apart. perhaps they both had feelings for the same person, or your character became irritated by mars’ constant pestering. mars can also get bored easily, maybe she became bored of this person too ?? or maybe mars had a crush on them and pulled away out of panic. ( open – all (f/enby only for ex-crush) )

amicable exes – they dated for a few months and it was great, but other circumstances caused them to break up. they didn’t see each other for a while, but later reunited and realised that, although they had both moved on, they still really cared for each other and struck up a strong friendship instead. now they are each other’s go-to for relationship/dating advice, since they know each other so well. ( open – f/enby )

co-workers and work connections – mostly fellow journalists, or people who work in the magazine/newspaper industry. marcie works freelance, so she works for various publications across the city and would have contacts in most places who she can call upon for favours. they would also have a string of contacts from previous articles they’ve written; perhaps she has interviewed your character or they are someone with a lot of connections themselves which she can utilise. usually at a price, of course. ( open – all )

no man is an island – mars is desperately trying to become an author, but they can’t do it alone. so anyone who works in the industry is a valuable asset – publishers, editors, fellow authors, you name it and mars probably wants their number. she can go to these people for help and advice when she faces a setback, or just wants to use their placement in the industry to try to launch her career. they are, of course, always well compensated with baked goods and cups of coffee. ( open – all )

rivals – mars can be incredibly irritating and she knows that, but she doesn’t appreciate when people are cruel or rude to her about it. this muse simply can’t stand marcie and so the feeling is mutual and they avoid each other at all costs, even if the universe sometimes has other ideas. ( open – all )

── 🌹 R O S A L I E

gossip sources – people always know people who know people and rosalie is insufferably nosey. she always wants to know everything that’s going on and can never keep her opinions to herself. as such, she is an excellent person to go for if you need to rant or want impartial advice, just as long as you remember to tell her not to spread the news beforehand. otherwise the entire borough of queens might know your business by lunchtime. ( open – all )

college friends – rosalie studied at nyu from 2012 to 2016, so could have crossed paths with all kinds of people during this time !! maybe they’ve stayed in touch ever since, maybe they lost track of each other once their lives divulged but now have an opportunity to reconnect ?? ( open – all )

makeover victims – rosalie loves all things beauty (makeup, hair, nails, fashion, the full works) and, even more than that, loves experimenting on other people. these characters are her canvas; whether they have an event they’re attending, or are off on a date, or even just fancy an afternoon of being pampered, rosalie will always be at their doorstep with a fully equipped makeup kit if they just say the word. ( open – all )

practically cousins – rosa’s family is huge and they are well known for inviting anyone and everyone over for dinner, especially if those people don’t have family of their own or are far away from home. rosalie’s friends are considered family and are welcome in their home. ( open – all )

friends of her family – the above courtesy is of course extended to their family member’s friends. perhaps this muse is close to one of rosalie’s siblings, but doesn’t get along with rosa at all. the two try to get along over the dinner table (mostly to avoid her abuela’s wrath), but outside of that they bicker relentlessly and can’t seem to ever see eye to eye. ( open – all )

rivals – rosalie is an insufferable gossip who can’t keep their mouth shut unless they were sworn to secrecy. maybe she spilled a secret of your muse’s by accident and they have never forgiven her for it ?? she’s not spiteful and is very openminded so it would be something she thought was harmless or common knowledge, which also means she doesn’t really accept that she did anything wrong. ( open – all )

heartbroken – their dating life is a mess and they tend to pull away if things get too serious, so she’s likely to have a string of people who have been hurt by her distancing herself from them. maybe there was a miscommunication and rosalie thought they were only hooking up but the other thought they were dating ?? or maybe they were something more serious, but rosalie broke it off when it got too real ?? there are lots of options to play with !! ( open – all )

casual hookups – because she doesn’t want to get attached, rosalie has multiple casual partners. neither party wants anything more serious, but it is fun to hook up with each other and go out on dates without any of the strings that usually comes with that. if we want the d r a m a, perhaps your muse actually does want more, but rosalie is scared to commit. ( open – all )

industry friends – actors, directors, screenplay writers etc. the entertainment industry is a tangled mess of egos, but when you make friends you keep them close. these are people rosalie can run lines with, they tell each other about auditions and support each other through the madness that is the career path they’ve both chosen. rosalie is never afraid to speak her mind, so she is always someone that can be relied upon for constructive, impartial advice. ( open – all )

#( always down for brainstorming !! these are just to get the ball rolling and some ideas of what i'm looking for #if you have any ideas for other plots or things you want to do that marcie or rosa could be used for hit me uP i'm probably gonna be into it #especially if it hurts them <3 )

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headheartbellarke · 4 years ago

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Speak Now | WILLEX

dear @calamitykaty - happy valentine’s day! i’m your secret valentine, and i hope you have a brilliant, lovely day!! i just wanted to say that i absolutely adore your fics hehe :3 this one is for you, i hope u like it, you wonderful human!!

& a million thanks & kudos to @screwunsaidemily / @jatpsecretvalentine for organizing this!! happy valentine’s day, raegan! and i hope today is as amazing as you are!!

✿◕ ‿ ◕✿

PAIRING(s): Alex Mercer x Willie, Flynn x Carrie Wilson, Julie Molina x Luke Patterson, past!Alex Mercer x Luke Patterson

WARNING(s): nothing haha just some fluff and we stan bobby in this house.. oh and some language

WORDS: 3.85k

SUMMARY: With his boyfriend marrying Carrie Wilson (well, in his defence, that’s his grandmother’s ‘dying wish’), Willie fancies himself to be the main character of a Shakespearean tragedy. Based on Speak Now by Taylor Swift.

KEEP READING BELOW OR READ ON AO3

Willie exhales, watching his breath crystallize into tiny ice particles. He extends a hand to catch them, but that action causes the little cloud to dissipate.

He rolls his eyes. Who has their wedding in Canada, in winter? Plus, not just on any day, but on Valentine’s Day.

He fancies that he might as well be the main character of a Shakespearean tragedy. Watching your boyfriend get married is painful enough, but to a girl? That shit makes you feel as if your heart has a screw lodged in it. He feels as if he has the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Willie likes to say that he hates Alex (i.e., the said boyfriend, the love, the light, the star of his life) – but that sentence leaves behind a bitter taste in his mouth, like he’s just had that weird cough syrup that his mother buys.

Alex’s friends can definitely see through his act, like, right now.

“Willie, relax! Everything’s gonna be alright!” Julie Molina, Alex’s bandmate, ‘unbiological sister’, and ‘best gossip partner’ exclaims. She is crouching beside him.

“Julie, I’m not the type of guy to crash a wedding and sabotage it, especially one hosted by those…” His hand moves in circular motions, pointing to the direction of the church, where Alex’s parents are probably seated.

Luke Patterson, Julie’s boyfriend and Alex’s ex-boyfriend, and current best friend and bandmate pipes in. “Homophobic, racist mingers?”

Willie grins. “Don’t know what that means but sounds accurate!”

“You know, we are saving Alex’s life, right? Literally?” Bobby Wilson chimes in, Alex’s other best friend from his position behind them. They are currently hiding behind a table laden with sweets of all kinds, and it makes Reggie, the last of Alex’s best friend-cum-bandmates’ mouth water.

“I still can’t believe that his parents are forcing him to marry a girl!” Julie exclaims, ponytail bobbing as she speaks. Luke adds, “Not just any girl, but Carrie fucking Wilson.”

“My fucking cousin!” Bobby says, looking behind to check if anyone’s there. There is, but they’re all either part of the caterer’s group, or the waiters – they are currently outside a church, where the reception will be held, post wedding. The attendees, the families, everyone – are inside the church, for the wedding.

“Hey, is Grandma Ruth really that sick?” Reggie finally asks, his eyes diverting from the sweets. Luke smiles sweetly at him. “I’m glad you finally decided to join us, Reginald.”

Reggie fails to catch the sarcasm in his tone, and he smiles brightly. Luke rolls his eyes, but a faint smile teases the corners of his lips. “Yeah, she really has stage four cancer.”

Julie says, “Poor Ruth.”

Luke huffs, “I don’t care that she’s dying – she shouldn’t fucking blackmail her grandson like that! Alex, honey, I’m dying. My dying wish, you ask? Marry someone. No, not your boyfriend of four years! Marry a girl, dummy. Homosexuality is a sin!”

Bobby adds, “Not just any girl, but your best friend’s cousin! Whose probably into Flynn, but, yeah, whatever.”

Julie smiles brightly at the mention of her best friend. “Oh, she definitely is.”

Reggie’s brows quirk. “I thought she was still into Nick.”

Bobby shakes his head. “They broke up last summer.”

Willie clears his throat, finally gaining some confidence. “He shouldn’t be marrying the wrong girl.” He exhales, and adds, as an afterthought, “Or any girl.”

“You two should be walking down the aisle, Willie.” Julie says, resting a hand on his shoulder. He nods, grateful for her support.

He remembers this morning, when he was at the grocery store, buying as many buckets of chocolate ice cream as he could fit in his arms. Suddenly, he had felt a warm hand wrap around the back of his throat, and he let out a yelp, dropping all the buckets.

He remembers thinking that the universe was against him. First, it’s the day of his boyfriend’s wedding, and along with that, someone’s here to kill him. Well, he thought, it’s better to die than –

“Willie!” A familiar voice exclaimed, and of course, it’s Julie – he realized that the hand that he thought was here to murder him, belonged to her. She was dressed in a long, pink, A-Line dress, that complimented her skin tone perfectly and – suddenly, Willie understood that it was a bridesmaid’s dress. Yep, she’s Carrie’s bridesmaid, along with Flynn.

Willie wondered if she was here to rub salt on his wound.

“What do you want?” He had mumbled, averting his gaze from her dress. Sure, it’s a pretty dress, but it reminds him of Alex, because he has a hoodie that he adores in the same colour. (It’s in Willie’s closet now, and he makes a mental note to burn it.)

“We have a plan.” She said, conspiratorially.

Willie sighed, leaning down to pick up the fallen containers of ice cream. “I’m not in the mood, Jules.”

She grinned, evilly. Or as evilly as you could while having an angelic face.

Sure, it took her a while to convince him to crash his boyfriend’s wedding, but on the way here, he felt as if it was worth it. Julie helped sneak him in, since he doesn’t have an invite – and he found the rest of Alex’s friends – Luke, Reggie, and Bobby waiting for him.

Now, as Carrie’s family emerges from the church doors, he doesn’t feel that way anymore.

“God, I think I’m gonna throw up just by looking at them.” Luke murmurs, while Julie slaps his shoulder. “Don’t say that, they look very… colourful.”

Bobby snorts.

Carrie’s family includes her parents, two of her cousin sisters and an aunt – and they are all dressed in pastel yellow. To be really honest, that colour looks like vomit. They stand in a circle in front of the church doors, and Willie notices her aunt rolling her eyes at the waiters. He sighs. This is the same aunt who told Carrie that ‘oh, honey, it’s just a phase’, when she came out as bisexual.

“Guys, guys, guys!”

Willie sees his cousin, Flynn, running in their direction, and stopping at their table. She huffs, catching her breath and he notices that she’s wearing the same dress that Julie is.

“Carrie is losing her shit, dude.” She says, once she’s breathing normally again. “Why?” Julie asks, concerned.

“Probably because she doesn’t wanna marry Alex? I don’t know, but she yelled at me for eating!” She exclaims, an annoyed expression taking over her face.

Willie and Bobby exchange a look – they all know that Carrie can get a little intense sometimes – she doesn’t mean harm, but on a day like this, you can’t really hold it against her.

“Where is she?” Julie asks, alarmed.

“She’s in the back. Her mom misplaced her veil, and its total chaos out there. Also, her gown looks like a fucking pastry.”

Everyone’s eyes widen, and Flynn sighs, looking away. “I hate everything.”

Willie knows that she’s feeling just the way he is.

Julie stands up. “Come on, let’s help her. And boys?” She points a finger in their direction. “Stick to the fucking plan.”

Everyone nods rapidly, and Reggie whispers, “Yes, mam.”

She kisses Luke, whispering something in his ear, and squeezes Willie’s shoulder, giving him a sympathetic look, before running off in the opposite direction with Flynn.

Watching Julie and Luke, Willie is suddenly overpowered by a memory, a memory that was gathering dust in his brain. He remembers a cold, dark winter morning in their – his and Alex’s – apartment. It was last year, and their first morning in that apartment, in their home. They were nineteen and couldn’t get enough of each other – even after three years of being together. Somehow, somewhere they felt as if an invisible string was pulling them closer and closer, until they merged into one.

He remembers Alex combing his fingers through Willie’s hair, and whispering, “Is it crazy if I say that this is everything that I’ve ever wanted in life?”

He had smiled, eyes filled to the brim with euphoria. “No, then that would mean that I’m crazy.”

“We’re both crazy.”

“Maybe.” He had pulled him closer, loving the way Alex buried his face in the crook of his neck.

“Willie?” Alex softly asked, drawing patterns on his bare skin.

“Hmm?”

“I want to wake up next to you every single day. Like, I don’t ever wanna be without you,”

“Me, too.” He had said, then adding, “I don’t see myself marrying if not you.”

He could feel his boyfriend’s grin. “Not gonna lie, I’ve thought about it. A little.”

“A little?”

“Okay, I’ve planned it all out.” They both laughed, and Willie felt as if he was flying.

Alex continued, “I imagine us getting married on a beautiful summer day – on the beach. Where we met all those years ago. Remember?”

Willie smiled. “How could I forget? I will love Flynn forever for bringing me to Julie’s sweet sixteen – I never thought that I’d meet my soulmate that day.”

“Yeah. I imagine Luke to be my best man, and Flynn to be yours. Julie and Carrie would be our groomsmaids, yep, I invented that – and Reggie and Bobby could be the other best men. It’s a little messy, because I love them all so much and I can’t choose – but yeah.”

“Funny that your ex-boyfriend will be your best man at our wedding.”

“Shut up, Willie.”

“Carlos could be the ring bearer.”

“I think he’s a little too old for that.”

“Well, you have a point. But he’s gonna be pissed if he doesn’t get a title like his sister does.”

“All right, he’ll be the ring bearer.”

“We could have a skateboard shaped cake.”

“We will… think about it.”

“And we won’t need a band!”

“I’m not playing at my own wedding!”

“Well, Bobby could take your place. I’m sure he won’t mind taking a day off his solo touring.”

“Yeah, that sounds nice.”

As they went over every possibility, every dream, the world melted away and all Willie could see were the oceans in Alex’s eyes.

Luke’s voice dissipates the haze of nostalgia around Willie’s brain. “Yep, Carrie’s family went inside.”

Bobby nods. “Okay, Willie, you stay with Reggie and Luke – I’ll go inside first and distract everyone, and y’all will come at my signal.” With that, he runs towards the church.

“Uh… what is his signal…” Willie trails off. Luke and Reggie exchange a panicked look, as Reggie says, “I’m sure we’ll figure it out! Besides – oh my god, are those flamingos?”

Willie and Luke’s eyes dart to the church door, where a bunch of flamingos – Carrie’s favorite bird, apparently – are on the loose and the waiters and the staff are running around trying to catch them.

“Boys, I think that’s our signal.” Luke says, grabbing their hands and dragging them towards the back of the church, where the girls had previously disappeared into.

Luke sneezes, and Willie absentmindedly whispers a ‘bless you.’ He shifts, saying, “There’s so much dirt here! It’s like nobody cares about my allergies!”

“I’m sure nobody in Canada will ever care about your allergies, Patterson.” Flynn hisses.

The trio are currently hiding behind a curtain, the lilac shades sickening them. “Well, you wouldn’t be in this position if Alex’s lovely bride-to-be didn’t uninvite me!” Willie exclaims, looking around to make sure nobody is nearby.

“I’m sure she has a very good reason!” Flynn says, and Luke rolls his eyes, saying, “You’re saying that as if you don’t know Carrie. She’s hyper fixating on this wedding to distract herself from the fact that her parents will never accept her for who she is, from her fear about the fact that she’ll never get someone who sees and loves her for who she is and right now, she believes that this wedding would gain her parents’ favour, that somehow they’d be okay with her being bisexual if she’s married a man, a gay man at that, too – and now she’s doing everything in her power to make sure nothing gets fucked up.”

Willie and Flynn sharply look at Luke.

“Dude, that was deep.” He whispers. Flynn dabs the corner of her right eye. “You should be a therapist, bro.”

“I know, bro.” He grins.

Willie can’t stop a smile from breaking out on his face. He turns back to the scene in front of him, and his heart seizes because there’s Alex, dressed in a perfect tuxedo, with his hair perfectly done, with a perfect smile on his face, and Willie realizes that that is not the man he loves.

The man standing in front of him looks too pristine, too immaculate. It’s almost as if he is being strung up by invisible puppet strings, but his face doesn’t give away any of that – it’s absolutely blank, and Willie would have thought that the man in the front is not real if he hadn’t seen his eyes. His eyes, which houses cyclones, cyclones being fed by the apprehension, the fear, the anger, the sadness that he must be feeling inside. His eyes, that Willie loves to see first thing in the morning, showing off the parts of his soul that he is desperately trying to shield.

Willie wonders if he’ll see him standing behind the curtains. He probably won’t. Willie’s at the back of the room, and he’s at the front, waiting, waiting, waiting. For a moment, Willie wonders if Carrie is going to show up at all – because the wedding was supposed to start half an hour ago, and it doesn’t make sense why a person who has never been late in her entire life, would be late on her wedding day.

He doesn’t have to wonder long, though. The organ starts to play ‘Here Comes the Bride’, and honestly it sounds more like a death march. Willie is reminded, yet again, of another reason why this is not what Alex wants – he wants to play ‘Lover’ by Taylor Swift at his wedding.

Willie takes in a sharp breath when Carrie enters. She looks like a pageant queen – wearing a beautiful, white, classic dress. In one hand, she holds her dad’s arm, and in the other, there is a bouquet of daisies.

Flynn whispers. “I have to go. Boys, do not mess this up. Or I swear I’ll kill you.”

As the duo watch her run to the front of the room, Willie whispers, “Does she know about Carrie’s big, fat crush?”

Luke snorts. “You think so? Come on, let’s sit. They won’t be able to see us here.”

As they crouch down and make their way to the benches, Willie casts one last look at Alex, and he knows, he knows that Alex wishes it was Willie walking down the aisle instead.

“Speak now, or forever hold your peace.” The preacher says, and Willie’s heart erupts into a frenzy. As the room goes completely silent, Luke whispers, “That’s your cue, Willie.”

Ignoring his anxiety, he stands up with his hands shaking, and his brain telling him to just fucking run out the doors.

Alex’s eyes widen, relief flooding his features, and for a moment, he looks like the real Alex again. Willie catches Julie and Flynn’s eyes, who are standing beside Carrie, and they nod at him, enthusiastically. But the bride, Carrie – she looks absolutely horrified. And so does all the other people in this room, including Alex’s parents, his grandma Ruth, and Carrie’s parents, too.

From Alex’s right side, Reggie and Bobby give him encouraging looks, and finally, he averts his eyes back to the man he loves.

But he can’t say anything. He feels as if he’s frozen in time, and his mind completely blanks out. For a moment he wonders if this is his rock bottom.

But Luke comes to the rescue, thrusting a guitar in his hands, and breaking him out of his trance. “I remember you told me that you can always sing, even if the world was ending. So, I brought this along, as backup.”

It’s true. Music is a part of his soul, much like it is Alex’s. Music is what connected them in the first place, and music is what still keeps them connected now.

He positions the guitar, and notices that it’s Luke’s acoustic guitar. He strums it, and finally, his mind comes back to himself. He keeps his eyes trained on that of Alex, and he watches the storm of emotions in his irises.

“I am not the kind of guy, who should be rudely barging in on a white veiled occasion…” He sings, loving how Taylor Swift has written a song for every occasion.

“But you are not the kind of boy, who should be marrying the wrong girl!” He sings and hears loud gasps around the room – he knows that people expected him to be in love with Carrie or something.

“Or any girl!” Reggie adds, and Alex grins, and that gives him the motivation to continue.

“So, don't say yes, run away now. I'll meet you when you're out of the church at the back door… Don't wait or say a single vow – You need to hear me out, and they said speak now!”

He drags the ‘now’ for as long as he can, because he knows that the silence that will follow will be excruciating. And it is. Alex just stares at him, an unreadable expression on his face.

Willie finally looks at Carrie, and when their eyes meet, she gives him an odd look. He half expected her to kill him, but the way she looks at him, it’s almost as if she’s relieved.

Alex clears his throat, the sound piercing through the silence of the room. Whispers arise, and Willie exchanges a look with Luke, who asks him, “You want me to dig you a hole to die?”

Before he can nod, Alex says, “Uh…” He fiddles with his hands, before finally saying, “Fuck it”, and untying his tie. His mother gasps, and his father stands up, but he raises a hand.

He locks eyes with Willie, and his world spins on its axis.

“You are not the kind of guy to be rudely barging in on a white veiled occasion…But I am not the kind of boy… who should be marrying the wrong girl… or any girl!” Alex sings in that raspy voice of his, and Willie feels his heart soar. He can’t help the grin from escaping on his face, and he knows that his eyes are what Julie calls, ‘heart eyes.’ Luke grabs the guitar from Willie’s hand and starts playing along.

“And you'll say let's run away now, and I'll meet you when I'm out of my tux at the back door,”

Alex walks down the aisle, but suddenly remembers something, or rather, someone. He turns around, locking eyes with Carrie, and Willie can’t see what he’s saying, but Carrie smiles a big, soft one – one probably no one has ever seen on her face, and he sees her mouth ‘go.’

“Baby, I didn't say my vows, so glad you were around; when they said speak now!”

He finishes, and stands in front of Willie, and Willie knows that the both of them can feel the air electrifying between them.

He turns, facing his grandmother. “Grandma, I’m sorry, but you’re 93, and I’m 20. I’m not going to give up my life for you to live. I love you, though. Mom, Dad, I’m truly sad that I’m not what you wanted. But I’m not gonna apologize for being myself, nor am I gonna apologize for loving who I want to. This is my life, and maybe it’s time that I start acting like it. I can’t keep wasting my life to please you. You – you should love me for who I am, that’s what good parents do.” Alex’s voice cracks, and Willie intertwines their fingers. Alex squeezes his hand.

Carrie’s mom stands up, shaking her head. “No, no, no… you do not get to ruin my daughter’s wedding –”

Alex’s father stands beside her, his face matching the shade of Carrie’s red lipstick. “I will not accept this –”

“Will?” Alex whispers, his eyes trained on his father.

“Yeah?”

“Run.”

With that, Alex tightens his hold on Willie’s hand, and the both of them run down the aisle, and outside. Willie can hear an uproar behind him, but it fades to background noise behind the thump of his heart.

“That was so fucking romantic!” Alex exclaims, as they come to a stop before Willie’s car.

“I just…”

“Wait – I’m sorry, Willie. I shouldn’t have put you through that. I should’ve fought more; I should’ve run away or something. That was not okay. I’m a twenty-year-old adult, and I should – I should – learn to be it, and not hurt any – anyone –”

“Hey, hey, hey…” Willie says, stepping closer to Alex. “It’s alright. They’re your parents. It’s not your fault that you want their approval. But I just want you to know that I love you, all of you, for who you are. And all of us do – Luke, Julie, Bobby, Reggie, Flynn, and even Carrie. We all love you, for who you are, and we’re always gonna be by your side.”

He smiles, cupping Willie’s face. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I – I love you so fucking much.” He kisses Willie, and the latter feels like he is floating amongst the stars.

“That – everything inside – from this tux to the decorations was horrible. I’m really glad that you… you know, stopped it.” Alex says, rubbing his thumb around Willie’s cheek.

He shrugs. “Well, it was your friends’ idea.”

“Of course it was.”

“Guys! Guys, guys, guys!”

Willie and Alex break out of their embrace at Carrie’s voice, who is currently running towards them, her dress bunched in her hands. Flynn is following her, holding her veil in her arms. Julie, Luke, Bobby, and Reggie are behind them, and they all have a look of panic plastered on their faces.

Flynn yells. “Carrie might’ve told your and her parents to fuck off, and your grandma to just die already, and so there’s a fair chance that we’re all gonna get killed, now that everyone knows that we’re all behind this.”

“Also, I threw red wine at our aunt’s dress, Carrie!” Bobby yells.

“I might have told your parents that they’re failures, and Julie and I are your real parents, Alex!” Luke yells.

“Also, Flynn and I are getting married!” Carrie yells.

Alex’s eyes widen, and he looks at Willie. “I think we all need to run.”

Willie nods, and he looks around. Maybe they will get killed (probably not), and maybe everything is a little crazy right now – but what he knows is that all of them are a family, and that he’d do anything for them. He also knows that Alex is worth everything, and that someday, they will get married, just the way they want, with the people that love them just the way they are.

Plus, is it weird to say that he kind of feels like Taylor Swift right now?

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blissfulbroadway · 4 years ago

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Alfred Nathaniel Hallam III Headcanons!!!

YES his name is Alfred Nathaniel Hallam yes he is a third no I do not take criticism

Childhood:

- Alfie got pneumonia as an infant. It messed up his lungs A Lot and affected his immune system and stuff as well so as a child he was constantly sick.

- He was in and out of hospital a lot and had a few surgeries so he was always on bed rest and isolated to everyone until he was about four years old.

- All of his medical issues caused his mum, Elizabeth Hallam, to dote on him a lot and suffocate him a bit. His father, Alfred Hallam II was the opposite and became pretty detached from being a father figure to Alfie.

- At a very young age, Alfred was introduced to stories since he couldn’t go anywhere. He was constantly reading in bed and learning often. Also his father made him study German just for funsies.

- His grandfather Wally, or Alfred Hallam I, introduced Alfred to Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland when he was three. Wally re-enacted the story to him in hospital a lot, and it inspired Alfred to fall in love with the story and take on the characters as his own. Wally got him his own copy after an especially difficult surgery, as well as a stuffed rabbit called Baby because he’s a three year old and it’s his little baby bunny :-) (he still ends up traveling with it as an adult and can’t leave without him).

- Around that time, his parents had his little brother, Elias (named after their mum) to be a backup plan or new start because they didn’t think Alfred would be much worth to them in the future. Yes they are shitty I know :/

- His parents have very very very high expectations for him because he’s now the older brother who has to do everything and he’s not their spoiled sick baby boy. They let Eli be a little shit and do anything he wants (like any little sibling but multiplied by like 10) while Alfie was expected to be the perfect child who dressed, acted, looked, and spoke the way they wanted.

- Alfie and his parents are very posh sounding because they live in Bromley, but he has a slight northern twang because of his grandfather. His parents hate it.

- When he’s four years old, after a long period of bedrest, Alfred is allowed to play alone outside, and he meets Alice. They refer to that day as their Golden Afternoon because it was the day they became the best of friends, and Alfred introduced Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland to her. (At first Alice was probably like Who are you and what are you doing in my backyard and Alfred is just SO EXCITED to introduce his favorite storybook in his entire existence so she budges and let’s him share his world with her)

- Alfie is a huge bookworm and while he adores learning and reading, his infatuation for learning mathematics (mostly so he could impress his father and maybe he would love him more if he knew “Big Kid Things” yes I know 🥺🥺🥺) manifested into an obsession with time, as well as the fear of being late or running out of time. He was surrounded by the idea of death from a young age and it influenced the way he thought about himself and what might happen to him if he didn’t listen to his parents. Their pressure brought out his anxiety disorder and depression at a very young age and it sticks with him throughout the rest of his life. His escape from all that death and sadness was Alice’s Adventures because he could always reset the clock at the end of the book and start again.

- When he’s five, Alfie spends some of his rich kid allowance on a copy of Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland for Alice, and in return she buys him a pocket watch a few years later. He adores it and never ever takes it off even as an adult.

- Alfred avoids his own home a lot and spends time with Alice in their conjoined backyard, playing pretend and acting out their story together. Sometimes, they spent the days inside her house (Mama Hallam is good friends with the Spencer parents, so she doesn’t mind them watching Alfie) and Alfred is well acquainted with Mr. and Mrs. Spencer enough where he considers them paternal figures...sort of. (Mr. Spencer is lowkey highkey Alfred’s bisexual awakening, and he’s one of Alfred’s first crushes; it doesn’t help that his own father constantly criticizes him and his interests or is absent from his life doing slimy rich man things. Daddy issues.)

- Mr. Spencer is a book lover (possibly librarian? Also sometimes professor :-)) and so he’s constantly discussing stories with Alfred and Alice on an intellectual level fit for the both of them. Most adults treat them like small children, so Alfred loves the attention.

- When Mr. Spencer dies in their early teenagehood, Alice and Alfred get incredibly attached to their storybook, and they find more comfort in it than ever. His death launched Alfred’s struggles with eating and sleeping, as well.

- This is one of the harder periods of time for Alfred, as he and Alice didn’t have any friends aside from each other. They’re incredibly codependent on one another.

- Mamie Van Eysen flirts with Alfred a lot during this time, but only as a joke. Either that, or she makes fun of his body and his personality—both in front of Alice, to make Alfred uncomfortable and Alice jealous. Other students bully him and Alice often.

- A lot of Alfie’s self image issues stem from this time, and his anxiety and depression worsen.

- When Alice’s mum dies when they’re fifteen, the pair runs away together. Alice almost gets assaulted, and Alfred wants to protect her. He gets into a giant fistfight with the older man. It’s bad enough to the point where the man is arrested and Alfred is hospitalized; it’s the hardest period he’s ever spent in hospital, even after all of his childhood issues. The police bring Alice and Alfred home and Alfred is banned from visiting Alice for a while. They communicate by speaking through the windows straight across from one another, or holding up signs from the window seats. While Alfred is healing, Mama Hallam is extra overbearing and critical to the point of being toxic and unhealthy for Alfred. His brother gets really mean around this time, too, as he doesn’t get the attention he once had. His and Alfred’s relationship get really rocky, and it’s never really mended in the future.

- The day Alice and Alfred can officially reunite, they never separate and they’re stuck at the hip from this point forward.

- When Alfred isn’t hanging out with Alice, he is at his grandfather’s hat shop, helping him stock or sell products. He puts his money towards a secret emergency fund in case he runs away again—this time without Alice. Alfred can never get past the front door, though.

University:

- When they reach uni, Alfie majors in mathematics and education, and minors in literature and statistics. He finds joy and love in his studies again, even if school itself affects his mental health.

- Alfred doesn’t want to be dependent on his parents, so he gets a job at a coffee shop and writes essays on the side for money. His caffeine addiction is dangerous at this point, and he often finds himself not eating or sleeping until it’s physically impossible not to take care of himself.

- Alfred puts all of his money towards renting an apartment with none other than Miss Tabatha Dedwin!!

- He and Tabbie are flatmates. Since Tabbie is best friends with Dodgy Dawkins, he meets him, as well. They’re friends for good after that, and that’s when Alfred starts to wind down, smoking with them, as well as his Alice.

Adulthood:

- After university, Alfred gets official treatment and is able to change his eating habits and caffeine addiction.

- Alfred learns about emotional support animals and gets a Giant Flemish Rabbit named Ollie to be his support animal. He’s giant and blue-eyed and looks like the spitting image of Alfred’s beloved White Rabbit. He’s a cutie.

- Alfred also did a little bit of gardening when he was getting treatment, and once he’s home he gets all sorts of plants and becomes a Plant Dad (with lots of research, of course!)

- In his mid twenties, Alfred finishes his extra schooling and becomes a primary school teacher. He blossoms into a happy, mostly healthy bisexual man with lots of plants and a sweet pet bunny and he wears funky disastrous outfits and has an amazing support system!!! (Alice, Wally, Tabs, and Dodgy :-) also Wally’s lover Denny the carpenter who comes out to Alfred when he’s an adult. He’s super shook but he gets even closer to Wally because they’re more similar than he believed)

- When he’s prob like 30 he goes to more school and becomes a university professor in the end of his years! Depending on who he ends up with he possibly has a few kids and a bunny and life is good!!! He’s teaching and learning constantly and it’s the life he’s always wanted even if his parents never accept his Christmas cards and his brother doesn’t answer his calls. He’s happier than he’s ever been.

- Also don’t tell Sage but when Alfie’s older his health problems catch up to him and he dies a relatively young death due to complications with his lungs :-( rip to my main man Alf

Little Headcanons:

- Alfie is the Biggest animal person besides maybe Tabbie. The ONLY exception is geese because one time he tried to feed a goose was brutally attacked by a goose and is afraid of them. He prob does birdwatching in his free time too

- Alfred’s fashion is HORRENDOUS @dodgefred and I made it up forever ago that he was a fashion disaster and ofc Colton’s costume...moving on. The reasoning for his fashion is he just picks pieces that make him happy that day and he sticks with it it doesn’t matter if he matches he’s just vibing.

- He reads his kids bedtime stories and he’s so devoted to being the father his own dad never ever was - When he becomes a professor it’s probably to teach Calculus and while his class makes people cry Very Often Alfie as a teacher himself is very very empathetic and comforting and yeah math is a bitch but he’ll take time out of his lunch breaks and extends his office hours way past the set time to help a student!!! He’s such a comfort to LGBT+ students and he probably has a few he discusses gay discourse in literature with (Tabbie absolutely introduced him to lesbian literature also also this isn’t a Tabs post but she stans Shakespeare :-)). Professor Alfie is the weird quirky prof. who stresses you out sometimes but also he goes on long tangents about his interests and how much he loves his significant other or children or baby bunny child Ollie!! He has so many plants and books in his classroom too it’s a Lot.

- Wayyyyy into theatre but he didn’t pursue acting onstage because his dad is homophobic :/ but he was in charge of lighting in school productions and fell in love with the stage

- He helps his friends study by acting out their textbooks for them and they always always ace their tests

- MUG COLLECTOR!!! He has so many mugs it’s not even funny his entire cupboard is taken over by them honestly

- Virgin who can’t drive

- Such a cursed and baseless hc I’m So Sorry but his first crush was the tomato from Veggie Tales

- Going off the last point he grew up in a Catholic household and he had one of those mums who was like you are Not allowed to watch tv unless it’s like. Veggie Tales or the Little Einsteins

- Alfie plays piano!!!! Also he did ballet when he was younger but he left because it was super bad for his mental and physical wellbeing and is convinced he’s a bad dancer because of his poor experience with the art

- Alice calls Alfred her Bunnie and he calls her My Alice/Allie/Allie Cakes

The end :-)

#alice by heart #alice by heart musical #ABH #abh musical #alice in wonderland #alfred hallam #alfie hallam #alice spencer #tabatha dedwin #tabbie dedwin #dodgy dawkins #this is the hill im dying on #thank you

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foramomentonly · 4 years ago

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20 or 28 from meet ugly prompts for Malex?

Prompt: I’m a famous singer and you’re the new techie who just tripped and pulled the plug out of my microphone mid-concert [extra awkward if they lip sync, extra badass if they keep singing and their voice is still on point]

Author’s Note: I don’t love this one. It got a bit away from me. I hope you like it, though! Multiple anons asked for it, so I hate that I might not have done it justice.

Alex is distracted.

Ostensibly, the job is simple: arrange the music equipment correctly, hook it up, and stay out of the way until and unless something breaks. Maria set it up for him, some easy, part-time work in an industry he’s actually interested in to help him explore his options. Between an extended hospital stay and rehab, his honorable discharge, and falling into mind-numbing contract work for the past six months, his new normal is looking pretty bleak. But the environment backstage twenty minutes before a show is chaotic in a way that even an active war zone never felt—or maybe Alex had just grown accustomed to that particular brand of shitshow—and the physical element of the work is taking more of a toll on his leg than expected. And then there’s the guy.

Alex had done his research before agreeing to work for Michael Guerin, rising country-folk star. He’d listened to his music—twangy, and the lyrics were a little obvious, but overall Alex approved—and of course he’d seen pictures, candids from shows and promotional material. But all that is a very different experience from watching Michael lean with practiced nonchalance against the back wall just offstage, flirting lazily with the bassist from the open act. He’s no taller than Alex, really, but his body seems impossibly long, hard and lithe in tight, dark denim and a chambray shirt three haphazardly-fastened buttons away from hanging open. His curls are a little longer than Alex remembers from pictures, light brown and tousled in a way that makes Alex think of sex; and, judging by the way Michael’s companion keeps tugging at them as he grins down at her, Alex is not the only one. Michael’s smile is open and inviting, and he gives it freely, but it’s also practiced, a bit of a cipher that he passes off as innuendo. It’s a clever distraction to the poor stage manager's assistant who is hovering to the side, anxiously waiting to escort the main act; to the woman he’s talking to, who missed her cue and had to scamper onstage a full minute after the rest of her band; and, inadvertently, to Alex, who finds himself wanting to both wrap himself up in the warmth of that smile and fuck it right off Michael Guerin’s smug face.

In a way, it’s reassuring; Alex’s hasn’t experienced this kind of dizzying lust since before his amputation, and his path to reintroducing himself to his body as a tool of pleasure has been rough. Moments like this one, when Alex would like nothing more than to strip himself bare and drag every delicious ounce of gratification out of his own body—whether he does that with Michael Guerin or just thinking of him—gives Alex an intoxicating sense of hope and promise that goes deeper than the thrill of desire.

It doesn't help him concentrate, though, and between the ache in his hip, the dim lighting backstage, and the haze of lust clouding Alex's vision as he shoots another glance at Michael, now onstage and mid-croon, it feels in retrospect almost inevitable. Alex fails to pick up his foot, to see the length of cords traveling across the floor from the stage to the impressive sound system in the back, and he trips, catching himself roughly against one of the pillars that supports the backstage balcony, but pulling out at least three different wires as he goes. There's an offensively loud, metallic screech, a deep thump of bass, and Michael's voice goes from clear and booming to soft, trembling, and completely drown out by his band.

Everything that follows is in slow motion. Alex raising his head as the band stops playing and locking eyes with Michael, who gazes at him hard and steady. Alex is the only person in the vicinity, not to mention the only one clutching a pillar like a life raft, cheek pressed uncomfortably against the rough wood; there’s no way Michael doesn’t know he’s to blame. Michael holding his gaze from onstage, tapping his index finger slowly against the mic resting on the stand in front of him. When no sound reverberates, Michael shakes his head, and Alex’s eyes widen. He hears whispered shouts and scuffling behind him, but he already knows the sound system will have to be completely reset.

“Bear with me,” Michael says in a loud, clear voice to his audience, finally releasing Alex from the inescapable hold of his arresting gaze. He sweeps up an acoustic guitar from the side of the stage, waves off his band, and slides onto a stool he drags front and center from just offstage. And then he begins to sing; voice like gravel, deep and rough, projected as best he can. It’s an intimate venue and an adoring audience, and as they begin to crowd closer to the stage, falling silent all on their own and lost to the spell of Michael’s tune, it dawns on Alex that Michael Guerin is going to pull this off.

He should feel relieved, redeemed even, considering the mounting enthusiasm of the shrieking crowd as Michael performs a full hour-long set completely acoustic, no mic and unaccompanied. But the memory of Michael’s eyes on him, hard and blazing, leaves Alex unsettled and, ultimately, unsurprised when Michael finds him just outside the theatre’s back entrance after his set, the roar of an extremely lubricated crowd pleading for an encore fading as the heavy door slams shut behind him.

“Alex Manes?” he asks, leaning his forearms against the railing of the small concrete landing in a mirror of Alex’s own position.

“Yeah.”

“What the fuck, man?”

Alex winces at the rasp of Michael’s overextended voice.

“I’m sorry,” Alex breathes. “First day.”

“I get that,” Michael says with a practiced patience, running a hand through his sweaty curls. “But—You’re Maria’s friend, right? Maria DeLuca?”

Alex nods.

“Look, she told me a little, uh, a little about you. You’re background.”

Alex turns to look at Michael, brow furrowed in confusion, and Michael’s eyes slide pointedly down to Alex’s leg and back up again, meeting his gaze openly.

“If the job is too much for you right now, we cou—”

Alex cuts him off.

“I don’t need your pity,” he hisses, anger and frustration boiling over at this man who thinks he knows who Alex is, what his limits are because he knows one fucking thing about him.

“Why’d you hired me, anyway?” he demands, shaking his head and pushing off the railing to his full height to face Michael. “You obviously aren’t a fan of the military.”

Michael as a figure is inherently political—openly bisexual, a self-proclaimed descendent of Lavender Country—and his lyrics and iconography further distance him from the uber-patriotic conservativism of typical American country. It’s one of the qualities of Michael’s brand that initially drew Alex to him; but in this moment, underestimated and called out, Alex is tired of playing nice and he lashes out.

Michael rolls his eyes.

“Could ask you why you wanna work for me,” he shoots back, dropping his pretence of understanding and standing upright, turning to match Alex’s aggressive stance.

Alex glowers at him as they face off under the dull glow of the building’s security lights.

“Look, man,” Michael finally says through clenched teeth, “you want me to thank you for your service?”

Alex scoffs.

“Pass.”

“Then what do you want?”

Alex pauses. That question. That’s the million-dollar fucking question. The one Alex hasn’t been able to answer for a year, maybe longer; maybe not since he was 18 years-old and enlisting, making the decision not to choose any type of future for himself. It’s why Alex hangs out at the Pony most nights when his workday is done, desperate for distraction; it’s why he downloaded Grindr, but hasn’t set up a profile, why he jots down lyrics and music, but never plays them aloud; and it’s why Maria called in this favor with her favorite former regular who made it big.

What does he want?

To stop fucking thinking about what he wants and take it.

“I want to write for you,” Alex blurts, voice insistent and sure, his tone nearly a command. “And I want to fuck you.”

Michael laughs, loud and disbelieving. He takes Alex in, eyes dragging slowly down the length of his body, roving every inch of him hungrily before catching Alex’s gaze, smiling broad and dirty. He stares at Alex with the same insistent, heated look he shot him from onstage, a challenge and a plea, and Alex thinks maybe Michael needs to stop performing as much as Alex needs to stop thinking.

“In that order?” Michael growls, and Alex grins.

This isn’t the lazy, flirtatious Michael Guerin he saw backstage, entrancing unsuspecting underlings for sport; or the easy, charming Michael Guerin of the stage. This Michael is darker, more intent, and he pushes rather than teases as he stalks closer to Alex, crowding him against the brick wall of the building and kissing him hard and filthy, teeth and tongue and no mercy. Alex groans and fists his hands in Michael's sweaty curls, tugging them to direct the angle of his head for better access as he nips and sucks his way up Michael's throat, tasting the salt of his sweat when Alex soothes a fresh bruise with his tongue.

“You know I quit, right?” Alex pants, pressing his hips into Michael’s and smirking when Michael groans low and grinds back harder. Michael presses his palms against the wall on either side of Alex’s head as Alex reaches between them, working Michael’s belt and jeans open hurriedly.

“As long as you know you’re fired,” Michael murmurs in reply.

Alex pushes his hand down Michael’s open pants and wraps long fingers around his cock, nipping at Michael’s lower lip and grinning when he gasps, dark eyes falling shut as his hips begin to churn in time with the twist of Alex's wrist.

“Fair enough.”

Over coffee the next morning Alex shows Michael his songs, and Michael instantly re-hires him.

#malex #malex fic #meet ugly prompts #alex manes #michael guerin #roswell new mexico #anon

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thecorteztwins · 5 years ago

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Something I’ve noticed in fiction and RP backstories is that when a character is LGBT, the parents/family react only one or two ways: Total acceptance with no issues, or rejecting/disowning/beating/attempting to kill their kid/etc And both these things do happen in real life. But what’s also very common, and which I rarely see represented or discussed, is a lot of places between the two extremes. For instance, many families are homophobic, but don’t want to lose their child, and the child wants to be themselves but not cut contact with their family. So you get scenarios like having bachelor Uncle Ted and his also-bachelor roommate Rob, who has been his roommate for 20 years, and may even get invited to Thanksgiving and Christmas. Everyone refers to him as Uncle Ted’s roommate or his friend, and Uncle Ted introduces him that way too, and it’s not until you’re 25 years old that you realize “oh, fuck, Uncle Ted is gay and Rob is his partner!” As bizarre as that scenario seems, it’s a VERY common story. Again, a great many families will, for the sake of keeping the peace, just reach an unspoken agreement that they won’t acknowledge it or bring it up, and that will do the trick. Another common scenario is that Uncle Rob and Ted have been together for 20 years, but you never knew because in this version Ted was never introduced to you, let alone invited to Thanksgiving and Christmas. In this version, the family will still accept Uncle Rob, but he has to do more than just say Ted is his roommate, Ted can’t be in the picture at all and Rob can’t mention him to anyone, especially not his parents or to you kids. You don’t find out about Ted till you’re an adult and between homes and need a place to stay and shack up at their place. It’s totally surreal but it happens. It happens a lot. There are also many parents who will be fine with their kid being gay in theory, but upset at the idea of the kid bringing home a partner. Or they’re fine with that, they just can’t let the partner meet the grandparents or extended family, who aren’t as accepting as the parents are, that’s very often the case. They may also “accept” when their teen or twenty-something comes out, but that’s because they expect it to just be a phase, and become concerned when it proves NOT to be. Or, if the kid is bisexual, they may assume they were proven correct when the kid brings home an opposite-sex partner. There are also parents who have nothing against homosexuality or bisexuality or being trans in themselves, but who have concerns related to what risks their child will be exposed to because of it. I once read an interview with a black lesbian who came out to her mother, and her mother’s reaction wasn’t to condemn being gay itself, but it wasn’t positive either---her mother said “You’re already black and a woman, why do you want to add being gay on top of that?” Her mother’s concern was the oppression her daughter would face. Likewise, a family might love their gay son no matter what, but be worried when he comes out as gay because they believe that this means he’s very likely to get AIDS, and they don’t want that to happen to him. My mother’s very accepting of ALL people on the LGBT rainbow, but she has said to me that she is less worried about me as a lesbian in this regard than a gay man, because STDs are harder to spread between cis lesbians. Speaking of my parents, they’re about the most accepting pair I could ask for. My sexuality is a non-issue to them, and they support all forms of gay and trans rights. But they’re also in their 60s, and not part of the LGBT community itself, and certainly not actively following how rapidly terminology and ideas are evolving now in the age of the Internet; the accepted view and words used around trans people, for instance, have changed really radically just in the past 10 years. So, my folks do hold some ideas that modern Tumblr would deem “problematic” such as my mom feeling that gay men are inherently more artistic and nurturing, because that’s what the gay men she’s known were like. Also, while she does NOT believe this anymore, she used to believe that men became gay because their fathers were bad or absent, because that’s what was the common view when she was a young woman in the 80s, and matched the situation of the gay men she met. She likewise asked me if I was a lesbian because sex with women was more gentle. Again, she knows you’re born gay NOW but in the past, those were common ideas, and the ideas that she therefore was exposed to. It didn’t make her hateful or bigoted, she was accepting of gay people even before I was born, let alone before I came out, but it did make her incorrect and going off stereotypes that corresponded to her own experiences and perceptions. So maybe your character’s mom didn’t have a fit and throw them out, but maybe she did also think that now her son would want to go shopping with her or that her daughter would want to take up golf. Also, while both my parents are very accepting of sexuality, they do get a bit more problematic in terms of how they judge gender expression. My mom is uneasy with butch women, and my dad kind of scoffs/is amused by femme men (yet oddly, has no issue with trans women, nor does my mom have an issue with trans men) This is another VERY common viewpoint I encounter---people not having an issue with the idea of same-sex activity and relationships in themselves, but in how “flamboyant” the person is. With many people, they disapprove of flamboyant gay men and butch women, but oddly in some cases it can go the other way around too; there are people who are just fine with the idea of flamboyantly gay makeup artists, drag queens, talk show hosts, fashion gurus, and hairdressers, but are more uneasy at the idea of perfectly “normal” businessmen or soccer moms who just also happen to be queer. There’s entire articles (probably essays) out there about how gay men in particular are marketed by shows like Queer Eye as basically being cute happy helpers to straight people, the cliche Sassy Gay Friend who just exists for the sake of supporting his female friends, etc. I’ve often wondered if lesbians don’t get the same media presence because we’re not seen as “useful” to heterosexual people in the same way (not that it’s any fun for real gay men to be pigeonholed that way either) So your character’s family may accept them but also start expecting stereotypical behavior from them, like giving their girly-girl daughter a tool kit after she comes our, or they may not BELIEVE them when they do because they’re NOT stereotypical, and that’s the only exposure to gay people that they have from media. You’ll notice I’ve thus far given examples only for a kid being gay or bi. That’s because I’m going off things I’ve personally encountered or heard of. I don’t have a lot of stories on how people react to their kid coming out as trans, but I imagine there’s just as much variation; I would check places like AskReddit for coming stories if you’re looking to find examples of reactions that are likewise somewhere in between total acceptance vs total rejection. For people who are asexual or non-binary, I reckon the biggest issue is just that the parents don’t know what the heck that even is, or don’t believe it exists, but I may be wrong, since I also don’t have much experience with this nor heard much secondhand either. Again, I’d seek out real stories from people and see what ideas you can get from those. Everyone’s coming out story or story of a family member’s coming out (or how said family member never came out, etc) is a little different. I hope this was helpful!

#writing #rp stuff #rp tips #writing tips #lgbt #writing lgbt #out of cortez

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asotin · 4 years ago

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what're your thoughts on castlevania (the netflix show, not the game, ive never played the game) what do you like, what don't you like? make it as long as you want. i don't care if i have to scroll for 5 minutes. go feral (personally trevor is extremely hot and i would like to date sypha. i'm not really into alucard's whole sickly victorian child aesthetic, yknow?)

oh god this is way too long, but you did say to make it as long as i want, and i have a lot of thoughts that i need to inflict on the world

i played two castlevania games, both from the nintendo gameboy era, so please don’t get mad at me, gamers

details below the cut, but since i’ll be talking about season three, i need to preface this with content warnings for mentions of: graphic violence, rape and sexual violence, racism, and the holocaust

before i get into it, i usually don’t go for alucard-type characters either, but knowing that he was redesigned to be bishounen sexy specifically because the boring, middle aged man look he originally had in the games wasn’t appealing makes me enjoy him. and he’s fun with trevor and sypha

do like:

the voice acting

it’s all good. i can’t think of any characters whose voices were awkward or fit poorly. they don't make sypha’s va use the standard flat affect or false high voice women tend to be assigned, trevor sounds suitably worn out but not monotone, and alucard sounds exhausted but in a sexy way

and the spanish dub is killer, arguably superior

the animation & design

it isn’t full-on artsy, but it’s definitely got a distinctive style that’s easy to look at. the color use and effects are gorgeous. it’s a story set in the medieval era, and the mixture of desaturated and oversaturated elements works so well with that

dracula’s castle and the belmont bunker aren't revolutionary in design, but they didn't need to be. they're suitably creepy and empty, and i enjoyed them

the monsters were unique enough to have obvious different types, and the scene where a monster commits blasphemy in a church by accusing a priest of committing blasphemy was good writing

lisa

she shows up to a stranger’s spooky home and scolds him for being rude. she really looked an ancient vampire in the face, told him he had no manners, then had a kid with him. what a phenomenal woman. 11/10, no notes

“start with me, and i’ll start with you.” you know what? i’d fall in love, too

dracula

this ancient, unfriendly vampire let a human woman walk into his home and tell him he’s got no manners. and that made him fall in love with her. just like that. lisa walked in and handed him his ass, and dracula thought “oh i love her”. and when she was killed (more on this in the bad section), he raised literal hell to destroy the world for doing it

speaking of lisa being killed, it fucks me up that it happened because she convinced him to leave the castle and experience the world. he left her alone to see what she loved so much, only to come back and find that the people he’d come to like- the people lisa had loved so much it drove her to help in a way that got her killed- had burned her at the stake. i love a good tragedy, and that’s good tragedy

the way he weeps when he has to fight alucard?? during a showdown in their home?? the “i must already be dead” moment in alucard’s childhood bedroom??? when he speaks to lisa about killing their boy, her greatest gift to him??? poetic cinema.

the trio’s dynamic

three bisexuals with two total brain cells and only alucard bothers using them. incredible

i went so hard for this ot3. it's right there and so good

sypha

she initially seems to be assigned the role of the adult™️ ie she's the only woman and gets stuck being responsible, but surprise! she’s just as annoying and dumb as alucard and trevor. she dropped a castle she didn’t understand on the ground and didn’t think too hard about it. then she argued about breaking it. i love her

if we don’t get an ot3, then she needs to have a dumb gf

alucard

he's got a stupidly low neckline and lower pants. they really leaned into ayami kojima’s redesign, as they should have. his little curl annoys me, though. why the fuck does he have a random section of hair that’s like three inches long when the rest is shoulder length or longer? love that he really looks like lisa

if you say he's canonically bisexual and polyamorous, no he isn't. yes he is. no he isn't :)

trevor

disgusting. a nasty man whose appearance mirrors his state of mind. he's 50 mental illnesses in a dirty jacket and his coping mechanism is… alcohol? maybe? he’s a mess, and i dig it

him trying his trick of kneeing alucard in the balls during their fight? and finding out it doesn't work? (which…… why doesn't it……?) juvenile but suitable

hector

his love of animals makes him my favorite. normally, i won’t touch anything with this much animal death, but i’m willing to set that aside because hector loves them so much. he’s so sweet and kind, and he loves his monster pets

yes he sided with dracula and has some really fucked up ideas about what constitutes humane treatment of people, and yet i love him. 11/10, but i have a lot of notes

isaac

i support him, including his murdering and his decision to support dracula. dracula throwing him out of the castle to save him was so cruel in that it was an attempt at kindness from a man who hated the whole world, but it was against isaac’s wishes

his time with the captain was great

idk enough about islam to know if he's portrayed correctly and haven’t seen any complaints, but given the show’s track record……… i wouldn’t be surprised if it’s not great

the forging

very cool. fresh and interesting! hector creating pet friends is cute and heartbreaking. love isaac for his dedication to reducing, reusing, and recycling

season 2’s big battle with all those vampires

the new version of “bloody tears” is phenomenal

this goes back to the animation, but listen……. it's so good. i loved the smoke vampire, and alucard’s fluid wolf transformations. his flying sword looked really good, and incorporating them together? super good to watch. and trevor’s whip?

the type and level of violence are suitable for what it is. it would be weird for a gritty show like this to be bloodless, but i don't think it would work if it were bloody to the extent of a slasher. it's also more clean violence, if that makes sense. you don’t linger just to look at gore; you see it because stabbing someone spills blood. the games weren't about extended, gritty scenes of realistic murder, so the show sticking with quick, slice and dice type fights fit with what i remembered of them

please watch this fight if you don’t remember it or haven’t seen it (part 1, part 2)

trevor’s whips

trevor’s weapons don’t follow the physics of normal whips, and they shouldn't. they’re heavily stylized and clearly a fantasy weapon, but they still have rules that they (mostly) have to obey. his morning star-whip hybrid in particular is so good

it’s easy to follow, too. a lot of times, speedy weapons disappear, which is an understandable effect but one i find boring because there’s nothing for me to do. i’m just sitting on my ass with nothing to do

trevor’s whips don’t disappear. they’re fast, but you can always see them. and they have weight! you can see them slow down and gain speed. i don’t need physics to be real; i want movement to be pleasing, and that’s exactly what i get with the whips

don’t like:

fridging lisa

she could have been kidnapped (possibly make dracula think she was dead bc people want to lure out her scary demon husband, idk), then s2 could have ended with her and dracula reuniting as he died. she and alucard go on a trip together to attempt to make amends for the pain dracula wrought in lisa’s name. orrrr she dies a tragic death with him and we’re left to hope that they find each other in the afterlife. do vampires get to go to the afterlife? can alucard reintegrate? can he be happy with his new friends? or will he go back to his crypt and sleep again? will he ever be rediscovered? if so, what will he do? deep questions. i would prefer to cogitate on these instead of experiencing the shitshow that is s3

season 3

they should have ended it with dracula’s death. the quality of storytelling goes down immediately. just plummets. i’m sure there were problems in the first two seasons, but this one is so bad, i genuinely can’t remember

but i may as well get specific, so here we go:

abandoning alucard

trevor and sypha leave their friend alone in his childhood home where he just killed his father. where they helped him kill his father who, as i’ve said too many times, raised literal hell to get revenge for people burning alucard’s mother to death

yt they don’t talk about alucard. they don’t make any plans to touch base ever again. trevor’s entire family got killed. sypha’s culture, from which she’s now estranged, is family-centric. if ever two people should give a shit about alucard and know why alucard shouldn’t be left on his own, it's them

so what the hell is going on?

trevor and sypha’s relationship

look. it could be good. it would be better with alucard but they could be together and it could work fine

but this……….

trevor hates what they're doing. he hates traveling around and fighting. he's clearly tired and deeply depressed

sypha not only doesn't care enough to address it (did they forget the first two seasons?? sypha is annoying partly because she doesn't stop poking people) she might not even notice? yes, she's having fun, but trevor is basically dead on his feet in front of her

racism

hector, sumi, and taka all got done dirty

sumi and taka

i hate the way they died. i hate that i’m certain that the plot won’t bring japan back into the narrative (or if it does, i don’t trust it not to be shitty). i hate the fact that by killing them off, i’m not going to get any more of them. they were interesting!!

speaking of the japanese vampire: the biphobia, arguably, given what happens with alucard

the addition of sexual violence

i don’t need or want lenore. if all she’d done was manipulate hector, i could have lived with that. she’s a villain, so she does bad things. that’s the point. but what she did was a massive escalation. we hadn’t had any sexual violence, and then the last few episodes gave us

tumblr feminists who love her for how she treated hector need to be quarantined until their brain worms have been cured

everything that happens to hector

what was this shit? why did i open my netflix app and tap castlevania and find them making this man walk around naked in the cold to torture him? and starving him? he got manipulated, degraded, chained up, collared like an animal, and raped. and why? to show us how bad lenore is? that the other vampires are bad because they let her do it? i didn’t sign up for this

the holocaust reference

the imagery at the end of s3 when it’s revealed that the judge has been killing people he’s decided are undeserving to live and collecting their shoes in that barn was chillingly close to images of shoes taken from victims of the holocaust. there's no reason to invoke the holocaust here. it’s unnecessary and in bad taste

#asks #anonymous #long post #anti-castlevania netflix #i guess #cw rape #cw holocaust mention #cw racism #cw holocaust #all of these are tags i didn't anticipate using on my stupid sideblog #i'll probably find a bunch of typos in like 12 hours rip me #but i feel bad for taking so long

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shakespeareintellectualbadass · 4 years ago

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http://andthenshesaid.co.uk/expertsofourownexperience/queer

Feels weird to advertise a blog on a blog, but I'm writing a series called Experts of Our Own Experience around pieces of my personal experience of life - being neurodivergent, dealing with depression and anxiety and an eating disorder, and most recently, being visibly queer for the first time in my life. I've learned more about myself from hearing others talk about their experiences, and I'm a big believer in learning about experiences other than your own, so whether any of these things apply to you or not, maybe you'll find something connective.

If you're interested, check it out, lmk if you have thoughts ✌

I’ve known I’m not straight since I was seventeen.

I went to all-girls school for fourteen years, from age four to eighteen. All my friends were female until I got to college. For most of my youth I was more consumed by the romantic stories my imagination conjured up, and generally those stories starred princes rather than princesses. I never spent any time overanalyzing it because it never felt wrong, to imagine either but focus more on boys.

And yeah, I’m definitely attracted to men. I obsessed over the boys we met at parties in high school like my friends did. I enjoy flirting with and dating men (most of the time…). I have a longstanding, embarrassingly strong celebrity crush on Jensen Ackles (like full blush, swooping in my stomach listening to him sing or when he winks at the camera). I remember one particular boy who my best friend and I fought over for about an hour at a friend’s quinceañera freshman year (that might be the most heated fight we’ve ever had and we’d only met him at that party, which is ridiculous). I also had really intense female friendships I didn’t think anything of. With the benefit of hindsight, I can see how those friendships with girls I liked and admired - the really earnest ones where I’d go out of my way to do things for them and be around them because I just really want her to want to be my friend - were actually crushes. I’m a people pleaser (with people I care about anyway), but I recognize that higher intensity now that I’ve been through more serious relationships. Definitely bisexual.

It clicked in the autumn of senior year, when I fell for one of my friends from school. We spent a few months pining and then dated for about half a year (though we were both dealing with shitty mental health struggles at the time and were overall not very good for each other) and broke up right before I graduated. All our friends knew we were together, as did my family and probably hers and probably quite a few more people than we knew. What can I say, I’ve never been known for my subtlety, especially when romantic interest is involved.

But right now is the first time I’ve been obviously queer. Visibly, aesthetically queer in how I choose to present myself.

I’ve easily passed for straight all my life. I’ve had long hair and lengthened my eyelashes with coats of mascara, worn low cut tops and tall heels and tight jeans. I’ve flirted with men more than women and leaned into my soft, feminine energy more than my assertive, masculine energy.

But I’ve never had to adjust to being bisexual, to accept that about myself. I never worried about what my parents would think. I know I’m enormously lucky because of that. That said, there’s a difference between coming to terms with being bisexual and being comfortable presenting as queer. My parents are both artists; they both went to college for performance (acting for mum, singing for dad) and are wonderfully open minded and raised me with that same open-mindedness. I don’t think I ever actually came out to them. I could tell they knew about my interest in my high school girlfriend, so I just started talking about it, and that was that. My whole extended family is very accepting, and there are other LGBTQ+ members of the family. One of my cousins is trans and bi; we make a lot of jokes about being the gay cousin (“every family has a gay cousin; if yours doesn’t, you’re the gay cousin” “but if I’m the gay cousin, and you’re the gay cousin, who’s flying the plane?”). My dad’s mom and her partner have been affectionately dubbed The Grandmas for my whole life. Grandma Natalie is as much my grandparent as Grandma Gayle, though we’re not related by blood. I don’t know how many members of my family know I’m queer - I’ve never specifically come out to any of them either - but I don’t worry about it. It’ll become obvious at some point, or I’ll drop it in conversation like I do so often now.

It does vary, how out I am - in high school I was comfortable with it in my personal life, but I never considered joining the LGBTQ+ club - and it’s been different when I’m in a relationship. Both my long term boyfriends were queer/on the bisexuality spectrum, but we presented like a heterosexual couple so never had to worry about coming out. While my high school girlfriend and I weren’t subtle, we also weren’t fully out as a couple. Her family was religious and she was worried about their reaction. On top of that, we were both fairly femme, and in Catholic school the general assumption is that everyone is straight. When I got to college, I only dated men. Part of that was residual fear left over from how badly that high school relationship ended. Part of it was I went to a Catholic university (seriously, how did I spend eighteen years in Catholic institutions when I’ve never been Catholic). A lot of it was compulsive heterosexuality - something queer women fall into a lot because our society is set up with men as the be all and end all (“how could anyone not be attracted to men?” “Of course the ultimate happy ending is settling down with a man...”). A lot of it was how much more I was around men. For the first time, there was a lot of choice, which was an exciting prospect. Even when I wasn’t in a serious relationship, I tended to only focus on men as romantic prospects.

Again, with the benefit of hindsight, I can see how much I’ve been and still am guided by that ingrained need for male attention and validation. It’s also easier to pick up men than women - there’s no is she flirting or is she just friendly to deal with – because men and women are socialized so differently that men don’t usually gush and compliment women they’ve just met in the same way that women do. Maybe it’s just easier to assume men are flirting because of the stereotype that men always want to get laid. Maybe it’s scarier to flirt with women. Maybe both. It’s certainly possible that’s my own projection rather than fact. That said, I did once have a two hour conversation with a lady in a shop during which we effusively complimented each other multiple times, and I have no idea if she was flirting with me or if she was just nice. Girls in bar bathrooms consistently hype each other up without ever exchanging names. It’s wonderful, but it does make things a little foggy when one is trying to flirt with a lady.

Anyway - I was talking about being obviously queer for the first time. It’s odd because I’m very comfortable talking about being bisexual. I bring it up in conversation easily. I post about it for pride. I talk about it a lot on my podcast. I’ve been comfortable with it since I recognized it - I have a wonderfully supportive family, and accepting that part of myself came easily. Presenting it to the world aesthetically is different - more personal, more vulnerable. Even writing about it here, thinking of you reading this, I feel more shy than I would were we face to face. While I didn’t spend any time reassessing my personality when I realized I’m bi, I’m just now recognizing that I do have internalized biphobia and compulsive heterosexuality I need to work through. I think the difference right now is about presentation, that I’ve never felt like I looked bisexual. Which is silly, right? As much as we talk about gaydar and queer trends (bisexuals cuff their jeans, etc), both within the LGBTQ+ community and out, you can’t actually tell anyone’s sexual orientation from their appearance. Queer people just tend to be more adventurous with their self-expression, perhaps because they’ve spent time at one point or another repressing who they are. Perhaps there’s just a joy in exploring something different, that makes you stand out. I don’t know - that’s true for me, though I’m only just starting to experiment myself, and I’m sure it’s different for everyone. I certainly don’t know if I would experiment with my style in the same way if I was straight, having never been straight.

My style has slid less feminine during this year of lockdown. Part of it is that I’m rarely going anywhere, and when I am, I’m walking a lot, so sneakers are a must. I exercise a lot more now, so often when I leave the house, it’s for a workout in a park and I’m dressed in leggings and a sweatshirt. I’ve gravitated toward looser trousers for the last year and a half or so; after years of skinny jeans, I’m obsessed with how comfortable they are. Now that it’s winter, I’m more focused on being warm and comfy than being fashionable. Also, I sort of feel like any moment an apocalypse movie is going to start and I need to be dressed to live in the woods. This added up into a vibe more butch than I’m used to, but with my hair longer than it had been in years, I didn’t really notice.

And then I chopped all my hair off. Like actually all off. A full pixie cut, shorter than I’ve ever gone.

Leading up to it, I guessed I was going to want to lean more into feminine fashion again to balance the cropped cut. I like being feminine and I’m in no hurry to give it up. I planned to pull out my comfy knit pencil skirts and my heeled ankle boots. I expected to forget about my new habit of dressing like I live in the woods. That hasn’t really happened. I’ve still been dressing for comfort, and my style choices have gravitated more toward sweater vests and flare trousers. Both Harry Styles and Phoebe Waller-Bridge in the “Golden” music video. The other day I caught sight of myself in a window and needed a moment to recognize myself: the combination of loose jeans, sweatshirt, raincoat, sneakers, and short hair just didn’t feel like the me I remembered. I looked at myself and didn’t see the femme, straight passing person I’ve looked like for most of my adult life. Let me be clear - I am by no means saying that looking obviously queer is a bad thing. It’s new to me, but I’m rediscovering myself. I still saw me - and that’s key, that this haircut has always felt like me - but a different me than I’m used to seeing in the mirror.

I have a lot of affection for this new aesthetically masculine and feminine mix, and the other day, stuck in the house at the beginning of lockdown no.3, I felt the urge to dress up a little. I put on lipstick for the first time since May, pulled out a plunge bodysuit and a pair of one-of-a-kind flare jeans I found in a vintage shop on Brick Lane the other week (looser jeans are a masculine leaning I’m embracing wholeheartedly). I decked out my fingers in rings and pulled out my wire-rimmed blue light glasses (my eyesight is so bad that my actual glasses look like something from the wardrobe of a nerd from a 1980s movie, so I stick with contacts). I snapped this photo, just to see the full effect as I no longer have a full-length mirror, and - bam.

I love how I look. I’m obsessed with my hair, with the bright red lines of the bodysuit (and isn’t me in a bright color shocking enough!). I love the jeans, love that they’re a little too big in the waist and just keep flowing out from there, a feminine line in a masculine fabric. I love the wire rim glasses (even if I do look like my dad in the 80s). I love the muscle I can see in my arms from months of pushups and calisthenics. I love how much space I take up, both physically and just in my presence. I am feminine and masculine. I am impossible to miss. Once, even a year ago, that would’ve been stressful. Now, I feel like shouting from the rooftops. This is me.

It’s gone up on Instagram. It’s my new profile picture on various apps. The only caption has been a peace sign emoji - a joke within the LGBTQ+ community about how bisexual people never know what to do with our hands (“point a camera at a bisexual and see how long it takes them to flash a peace sign or finger guns”). It’s a very different vibe from my last profile photo - almost two years ago I smiled at my friend behind the camera from a flowering yellow bush as I watched my last relationship coming to an end.

I keep coming back to how much it is different. This is a change - not of who I am, but of how I reflect it to the world. Proud and excited as I am, and as much as I want to care only for what I think, the fear of rejection lingers. The fear that my friends’ love isn’t malleable and won’t fit this new me anymore. The yearning for the people I love and admire to be proud of me. And on top of that, I wonder how I am different, how my change in appearance reflects an inner shift. How it necessitates it. I’ve always felt the inner shone through to the outer - now that I’m changing the outer, does that come from a shift I’ve already made or is there one still to make? Do I have to act more queer because I look it? What do I feel I need to prove?

Maybe I’ve spoken so much and so easily about my sexuality because I knew it wasn’t visible. Now it’s far more clear, and I feel both more confident and shy. Who is this woman who wears red and casually takes up space? I know her, have seen her in flashes, but this is the first time she is stepping out so boldly. That’s it: I am bold in a way I haven’t felt before. I know, logically, that I have been (again, I’ve never been known for subtlety), but not so consciously. Not with so much intention behind my choice. Some boldness comes so easily I never think of it, but this - this was like bursting out of water for that first breath of air. Natural, intuitive, but not easy.

All this comes in the middle of a period of great change in my life. I’m moving back to my home country after living in London for almost three years, back to my parents’ house after living alone for a year during this pandemic. I’m reconsidering everything I want to spend the next few years doing, much less the rest of my life. I’m trying to figure out how to fund seeing the world and how to organize running a podcast with guests from everywhere I go. I’m consciously focusing on myself and what I want rather than delaying or sacrificing my goals for anybody else. I’m putting off putting down roots for a bit and relying on the knowledge my family is there to come back to. My future see-saws between the safety of family and the unquestionable boldness of adventure.

There is an apprehension that comes with change, an acknowledgment that I am growing and becoming something new, something that is always myself though I did not know it was there. It is freeing and exhilarating and terrifying, growing. Like jumping off a cliff, I have to squeeze my hands into fists and tighten my core and rely on the knowledge that the water below will catch me, that I will catch me, so that I can enjoy the fleeting moment of flying into something new.

#selfpost #experts of our own experience #and then she said #queer #lgbtq+

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huihuiheart · 4 years ago

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Trigger Warnings: Depression, anxiety, toxic relationships, ptsd, abuse, suicide, self harm.

So I don’t expect a lot of you to read this and I expect even fewer still to respond or anything of the sort. However, I’ve been thinking about giving some sort of explanation or warning I guess of some sort. So here this is if you so choose to read it.

So it’s not much of a secret that I have depression, anxiety, ptsd, those are things I do talk about on here and share with you guys. It doesn’t bother me to do so. Sometimes it even makes me feel better, because I feel like there is a chance that I could be helping someone by sharing my struggles and how I get through them.

However, I’ve had asks which I have chosen not to answer that have had things to say about me and the things I do/say. I wasn’t going to make a huge thing about it cause I don’t particularly enjoy doing that due to my anxiety, but I’ve decided somethings just need to be cleared up or I will feel I haven’t done my part.

“You’re just talking about that stuff to get sympathy/attention for your writing/etsy/you.” - This is the number one negative ask I get and you have it so wrong. I tell you about those things, because my anxiety makes me feel like I HAVE TO give you all an explanation. Whether it be how long it’s taken me to work on a fic or why it isn’t the best piece, etc. I do not do it for attention!! Attention makes me nervous for this very reason!

“Why are you even here if you’re going to spend more time complaining than writing?” - I have answered this one multiple times too. Writing is my escape. When I’m too trapped in emotions and I break I need to get out of the world I’m living in and I do that through writing. That’s why I start so many things and why I don’t always edit them. My brain is exploding with emotions and I need to work on a piece that releases that without being reality.

“Just talk to people about your emotions.” - When the things that caused my ptsd were happening no one listened to me. No one listens to me still and if they do I’m just a liar. I’m just doing it for attention...hmm doesn’t that sound familiar. It makes everything worse and then my anxiety flares up so much I will actually become nonverbal. So no I cannot just talk about my emotions all the time. The reason I’m able to do it here as much as I do, is because it’s pretty much anonymous.

“Why are you advertising your etsy so much lately? We aren’t here for your dumb shop, we just want to read smut.” - Oh this one covers so many points. You are just here to read smut, because anything else I publish gets no notes. And before you go on about group preference and all that, I posted two fics in one day...same group, different genre that’s it. One had over 100 notes in under an hour. The other still has only 3 notes after a good while. Next, I BOTH APOLOGIZED FOR AND PROMISED TO TAKE DOWN ANY POSTS RELATED TO MY ETSY FOR BEING AN INCONVENIENCE TO YOU ALL! Also, I thanked everyone for putting up with, supporting, and being patient through it. Those posts about my etsy serve a couple purposes...1) Explain what I’m doing in my life..so why it might take longer to put works out. 2) I’m in an abusive/toxic home! I need help and do not have the means to get it! All I’m asking for it for you to look at it to get it some attention and/or tell your friend about it IF YOU CAN. You never have to.

“Your home isn’t actually toxic/abusive/bad you’re just being dramatic.” - You know what I’ll just list some of the rules that are both reasons why I’m stuck at home and why I feel this is wrong and let you decide.

1. Since I went to college and got financial aid. I have had to have a bank account under my mother’s with at least $500 in it at all times, so she can take what she thinks they’re owed WITHOUT explanation (when it started we were short on food money and I understood, now my father makes A LOT more and we are have more than we want even). IN ADDITION to the bills I cover. This rule didn’t go away even when I was unemployed, hence why I do not have a ton of savings right now.

2. I’m not allowed to return to college or do any further education full time or for longer than 3 months. Whether I can get financial aid/a scholarship for it or not if I want to live here.

3. I’m not allowed to work full time or I’ll be kicked out even though they’ve drained my savings.

4.Since I teach for work it is now my job to teach my siblings who have been homeschooled for the past 5 years (not covid related), because my mom wants to go out and shop (recreational shopping...in a pandemic).

5. I constantly get yelled at, called fake/ugly/liar/a heathen. My mother lists of reasons constantly why I will never be loved or found beautiful.

6. There are people in my family who hit me without care, it’s fine because I’m an adult and their family member.

7. I have to have gotten permission at least 3 times to do ANYTHING even if it’s just eat something that isn’t a meal for the whole family. Yes, I mean snacks even! And I’ve had some of my eating privileges revoked since I gained a little more weight recently. Heaven forbid I weigh a whole 108 lbs now.

8. If I came out as bisexual to my parents and told them about my girlfriend...I would probably be beaten, insulted, kicked out, disowned, and never spoken to again by anyone in my family. Even extended.

9. They destroy things I create. They burned a whole novel I wrote once. They tore a painting of mine to shreds. Just because you said I thought too much of creative ability I don’t have.

This is just part of why I need out...

Like guys....the second half of September was rough for me. I had such a bad relapse when it comes to self harming, I honestly didn’t care what I did to myself anymore....I almost did worse too. I had written out goodbye notes to people 3 times in a matter of two weeks. I’d never even done it once before... I just. I feel like a shell of a person so much of the time. Any emotions that flare up and might do damage just go into my writing. Which is why there’s been so much unedited lately, I just write without care anymore. If it’s not pretty or I accidentally put the wrong word I don’t really care that can be fixed later, but only if I’m still here. That’s my only goal right now really. And no writing the goretober stuff doesn’t trigger me, usually when something else triggers me I go write some of that kind of stuff and it calms me down some. (Harm characters instead of myself.)

Anyways sorry if that was too much for you guys, but thank you if you read all of my unloading and for your understand and support. Cause I know the ones who actually read all this are the ones who are actually nice to me and actually care and not the ones who send those messages. Just like I said I felt that if I never said anything I would be the one at fault/to blame.

Thank you guys.

#admin #delete later #I just felt this was necessary

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