#was it ever clarified if dan's his half or step brother?

[clownfire]

At some point William is going to have to explain to Ashe that his billionaire half-brother turned their dad into an iguana.

[oceanwaterheart]

TL;DR They didn’t lie to us as teenagers. I’m actually happy now.

I’ve been watching Dan and Phil since I was 18 years old, and it’s been a whirlwind. I still remember the day my dad sat myself, my mom, and my brother down and asked us to list out Internet usage for the last month (at the time we didn’t have unlimited), because it was barely midway through the month, and we’d already hit 90% of our usage. That was the day I learned out how much data YouTube sucks up (but thanks, Dan and Phil! You’re the reasons my dad got us unlimited Internet!)

They are also the reason for the first trip out of the city that I ever took without my parents. My friend Devon and I took a 5 hour train from Ottawa to Toronto, and saw The Amazing Tour is Not on Fire (and it was bloody awesome!)

I’ve never felt a sense of community quite like that before. It’s hard to describe the feeling that was in the audience that night, though I’m sure anyone else who was there or has ever been to a Dan and Phil show will know what I’m talking about. The whole audience, full of nerds, and freaks, and wallflowers dressed up in flower crowns and cat whiskers were all sitting in an auditorium full of people just like them, singing their happy little hearts out to all the songs from their cringe-y emo phases, and more.

It was the first time (but thankfully not the last) that I ever felt like I truly belonged somewhere.

This is not to say that I hadn’t belonged anywhere until then. I was subject to a lot of bullying growing up. Living with Tourettes Syndrome will do that to a kid, but c’est la vie.That being said, I always had a wonderful bunch of friends. I had a lot of drama and struggling throughout elementary school and high school, but at any given time, I had at least one or two terrific friends.

That didn’t stop me from feeling lonely much of the time, like something was missing, like I didn’t quite fit where I was. And I could never explain it. My friends loved me, and I loved them, but there was just something that was off, that was nagging at the back of my mind, silent, nameless, unidentifiable.

I had a lot of problems growing up: the afforementioned Tourette’s Syndrome, lying from someone that I thought I could trust the most, catfishing and friend drama, and just general stupid teenage girl shit.

I was called a lot of names. And by that, I do mean a lot.

But I was never called gay.

Boys did not go unnoticed in my life.

I was called boy crazy, I was asked which boy I had a crush on this time, I was made to feel like the only important thing worth discussing with other girls was boys, and if I didn’t have a boy that I liked, then what was the point? (I’d like to clarify, a select few friends - the ones I’m still friends with now - were not the ones who gave a shit. They were always wonderful.)

I’d love to say it never occurred to me that I might be gay until it did, that way I might have an excuse, but the truth is, it crossed my mind all the fu**ing time. But I surpressed it so deeply and so completely, that there was never any room for lingering thoughts beyond “I can’t be a lesbian” and “thank God I’m not a lesbian”.

I’m sure those of you that follow him, and honestly, even those that don’t (it is the number one trending video on YouTube, and has been covered by actual fu**ing news stations after all), have seen Dan Howell’s coming out video.

Dan is not the reason that I came out, nor is he the one that made me finally realize who I was. That credit goes to a few friends I met in college, who were so unafraid of being themselves that it was less a slap in a face, as much as it was a friendly face opening the closet door and saying “silly girl, what are you doing in there? The air is so much fresher out here!” And is it ever.

I think back to that very first show I went to with my friend, during the Amazing Tour is Not on Fire, and that sense of belonging, and I realize it was just a tiny sample of what it feels like to belong, to be truly okay and happy with who you are.

I didn’t have the same struggles as many did. I was never physically or verbally abused for being gay, I was never shut out by friends, I was never made to feel like shit.

And yet, heteronormativity is such a real thing.

I’d never given much thought to the word, dismissing it as something people used in overexaggeration, until I came out to the girl who is currently my best friend, and who was already openly gay at the time. At the time I had decided I must just be bisexual, and aside from a panic attack in an Uber ride home, it was relatively easy to finally accept once I gave it proper thought, instead of the years of vehement dismissal I’d previously done. And when I told her, she asked how long I’d known, and I said about half a year, but that realistically, I knew it had always been there. I explained the thoughts, the dismissal, the hurried relief, and she said “that’s heteronormativity for you.” And it finally hit me, the problem we’re all facing.

Dan Howell is not the reason I came out, by the time his video came out yesterday, I’d been out (to the first few people I told, though the list has been steadily growing) for over a year.

But I think what Dan did was so, so, incredibly important.

This post has been a general jumble, and my English Degree and Creative Writing Diploma are hissing at me for not articulating my thoughts better. But I need to say that watching Dan’s video yesterday was a wave of relief and belonging that I didn’t even realize I’d been waiting for all this time.

This beautiful YouTuber I’ve been watching for about six years now is just one of many people I identify with now, and the people I actually owe thanks to are the friends that were there and accepted me for who I was without batting an eye, and made it so easy to stop questioning myself.

But we need people like Dan, icons that can stand up in front of the masses and say “listen, bitches, it’s okay to be who you are”, because this feels like a turning point. The reaction to his video has been so overwhelmingly positive, so why can’t it be that way for everyone else who’s still unsure of themselves, and are still figuring themselves out?

That’s all everyone who’s ever had to come out has ever needed. Dan talked about it in his video, I had it, my not-straight friends all had it. We all just need someone who will understand and assure us that we’re okay.

That’s the real first step towards true equality.

So, thanks, Dan, and truly well done. And just for the sake of making this a touch creepy, because I’ve made this mushy enough: Welcome to our ranks. ;) 

[itscooltobefanficy]

Feeling Alive- Part 13

Summary: Dance school!AU (or the Step Up/Pride and Prejudice mash up nobody asked for). Bucky Barnes is forced to take twelve hours of commercial dance classes to pass the year- and that just happens to be your regular weekly dance class.

Introduction

Part 1 (Slow Hands)

Part 2 (Stay)

Part 3 (There Will Come a Time)

Part 4 (Weapon of Choice)

Part 5 (Came Here For Love)

Part 6 (Where the Sky Hangs)

Part 7 (When Can I See You Again?)

Part 8 (Manhattan)

Part 9 (Skip To The Good Bit)

Part 10 (Poison & Wine)

Part 11 (Clean)

Part 12 (Where To Start)

Second Chances

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Chapter 14/17: Second Chances

Word count: 2829

Warnings: Maybe a bit of swearing? Idk guys I’m so tired

OK... First things first THANK! YOU! ALL! In my head I refer to you all as The Ace Gang because you are all ace and I enjoy making references to British teen literature but the main thing to take from that is that you are ACE. And WONDERFUL. And AMAZING. And I’m running out of superlatives, so have a heart <333 Second things second... IT’S THE FINAL COUNTDOWN (nuh nuh nuuh nuh). This chapter, one sort of chapter that’s barely long enough to count but doesn’t fit anywhere else, then the final 4k plus monster (I haven’t actually finished writing it yet but nm) and then the epilogue!!! Third things third I have (with little fanfare) opened requests. So if that’s a thing you’re interested in you know where to find me. OK. That’s everything. Let’s go.

“You took him back?!”

You look sternly at Wanda. “No. I just… I couldn’t throw it away completely. But I’m taking things even slower than before. We’re not even texting.”

It’s true. You’d been walked back to your flat last night by Sam (singing loudly) and Nat (singing even louder), leaving Bucky to deal with Steve. Judging by the glower on Bucky’s face, that had not been set to be a fun conversation. Regardless, this morning you still have nothing more to say to him. This second chance is a tentative, cautious thing- walking across thin, fracturing ice, or leaning out over a precipice with nothing but the wind to hold you back- and your instinct is to withdraw.

Wanda appraises you over the rim of her mug. “You really like this guy.”

“I really liked this guy,” You clarify. “But now…”

A phone trills, and Wanda grimaces as you deal with the squirming mass of emotion in your stomach.

“Sorry, Y/N, do you mind if I take this?”

You wave her ahead, and she lifts the phone to her ear.

“Hey, Leo, what’s up?”

You raise an eyebrow. Leo is your current partner in the Advanced class: loud, cheerful and with a good sense of humour, he’s been the perfect antidote to the past few weeks. OK, he’s not as good as Wanda- but to make the troupe even, she needs to take on the follow role for the competition.  The lady herself shoots you a don’t ask me look as she listens to Leo down the phone. Then, in an instant, her expression clouds over.

“Ah, I’m sorry to hear that, Leo. Are you sure-? OK. OK, thanks for letting me know. I’m sure they’ll be glad to see you. Alright, bye.” She ends the call, then gives a dramatic groan. You don’t even have to say anything; she sighs and begins to explain.

“Leo’s datemate has just been made redundant. He’s moving down there for a couple of weeks, just while they get back on their feet, but it’s a four-hour drive from here. He called to say he’s dropping out of the competition.” Wanda’s mouth twists, and you frown in sympathy.

“Damn. Can’t you ask Pietro?” Wanda’s brother might not class himself as a dancer, but his natural athleticism and years of exposure to his sister’s training have made him more than capable of picking up routines, and he’s stepped in more than once to fill up the troupe. Wanda, however, shakes her head.

“He’s got a triathlon that day.” She buries her head in her hands. Her voice is muffled and furious. “I’m doomed. We’re going to lose to Vision before we even start.”

You try not to smirk at her mention of Luiz (who happens to be hosting the afterparty, and if you can’t engineer a situation that ends in the two of them dating you will be forced to admit defeat and eat your leggings), and instead try to think of a solution. Wanda’s right- you can’t perform the routine with one lead down. The dynamics, the symmetry, the impact would all be lost. You need… Someone to step in.

Someone who has experience.

Someone who understands how the troupe operates.

Someone who’s even practiced some of the routine before.

It’s your turn to groan.

“Hm?” Wanda lifts her head as you reach for your phone.

“Don’t thank me yet,” You mutter.

Y: Nat, can you send me Bucky’s number?

Wanda’s eyes go very wide (reading your screen, rude). “You’re not.”

“You need another lead,” You say, tightly. “And I happen to know of one.”

Before Wanda can retort, your phone chimes.

N: You deleted his number wow

N: good for you

N: Here it is

The contact is attached to the last message.

Y: Did he kill Steve?

N: nah

N: their friendship is too weird for that

N: now fuck off I’m too hungover for your relationship crisis

You snort.

Y: Yes ma’am

Then, before you can lose your nerve, you tap the contact she sent you and hit call. Your stomach twists and rolls as you lift your phone to your ear.

“Y/N?” Bucky sounds… rough. You hate how the gravel in his voice sends a flush crawling to your cheeks. “You OK?”

Something clenches in your heart. He thinks the only reason you’d call him is if you were in trouble, if you absolutely had to; how far away you are from the easy, wonderful familiarity you used to share.

Mind you, he’s not wrong.

“Hey,” You say, then have no idea how to continue. “Um. Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” The rhythms of teasing one another come back to you slowly. “You know. You sound like you’ve been gargling granite or something.”

Bucky’s laughter sounds surprised, as though he hadn’t expected you to joke. To be fair, neither had you. “Ah, the party may have got a little out of hand.”

“Nat did mention something to that effect.”

“Nat?”

Internally, you curse. You’ve fallen into that one. Swallowing, you press on. “Yeah. I had to ask her for your number.”

There’s a momentary silence. The reminder of all the broken, hateful things you said last night is thrown into sharp relief in your mind, and you hover, uncertain how to find your way back to safe ground.

“Right.” Bucky’s voice sounds forced, but at least he’s brave enough to say something. “I don’t think she’s feeling too good this morning.”

You snort, relieved. “No. Anyway,” You muster your courage, “I actually called you to ask for a favour.”

There’s another pause. You cringe, waiting for Bucky to tell you that it’s a bit early for that, or even that it’s verging on hypocritical to ask for his help now-

“Anything. Anything within reason.” His addition is no hasty backtrack; it’s slow, reasoned. Automatic. Your heart swoops, even as your eyes widen in shock.

“Um. Thank you,” You manage. “There’s no fire involved, or parachuting, I promise.”

“Knives?” Bucky’s tone is now wry, and you laugh.

“No knives.”

“That’s within reason,” He replies, and you can feel your shoulders slump in relief. “Now, what actually is this favour?”

You take a deep breath. “The thing is… Wanda needs another dancer. Another lead. For our competition next weekend. Somebody’s had to drop out, and I wouldn’t have asked you if there was any other way- I know you’re busy, and-”

“Hey. Y/N?” You stop midsentence. Bucky sounds, if anything, amused. “It’s OK. I’ll do it.”

“You will? I mean,” You swiftly change tack, not wanting to be any ruder than you already have been, “Thank you.”

“Like I said, it’s OK. When’s the next rehearsal?”

You check your watch and grimace. “In about half an hour.”

A complaint would be reasonable, but Bucky merely says, “OK. See you there,” And hangs up.

You manage to avoid looking at Wanda for approximately ten seconds before she pokes you, hard, in the arm.

“So?!”

You wince, then glare at her. “This still may be the most terrible idea I’ve ever had.”

Wanda tilts her head to one side, a small smile playing around her mouth. “We’ll see. We shall see.”

~~

You’ve noticed over the years that when you get nervous, you forget how to just be. Your attention snags on silly details: how you’re standing, where you’re looking, whether or not you’re frowning. And, waiting for Bucky to arrive at Scarlet Studios, you’re more nervous than you can remember being in a long time.

Pepper lays a calming hand on your shoulder. “Don’t fret. He’ll be here.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” You hiss, and tug absentmindedly at your t-shirt.

“I can still punch him.” Clint isn’t smiling; it’s not a joke. Sighing, you shake your head. Clint had been the least convinced that Bucky should even be allowed in the same building as you, never mind crashing your practice. That’s not to say that a small part of you wouldn’t like Clint to punch him. It’s just that-

The door swings open, and Bucky slides inside.

All of your insides seem to drop through the floor. His hair looks wet: he probably got up and got straight in the shower after you’d called him. Just watching the way he moves sends sparks crackling up your throat.

“What do I say?” You spin around, panicking, and Pepper now gives you a gentle shove.

“It doesn’t matter.” She smiles encouragingly. Clint looks over at Bucky and snorts.

“You could read him your grocery list and he’d listen happily,” He mutters, and you glare.

“Not. Helpful.”

“Y/N?”

You whip back around. Bucky’s right there, expression cautious, hand resting on the strap of his bag.

“Hey,” You say, emotions fighting for control of your voice. Then a thought occurs to you, and you take a step forward. “I can’t believe I haven’t asked you this yet, but did you get in? Did they take you?”

His face undergoes a beautiful transformation, melting into relief, into hopefulness. Your heart squeezes.

“Yeah. Yeah, they did.”

A smile fights its way out across your mouth. You can’t go closer, not yet- but you can be happy for him. “Well done. I- I really mean it.”

Bucky’s eyes become unbearably soft. “Thank you.”

Then, thank God, Wanda claps her hands. “Get over here, you lot! Does it look like I don’t have better things to do?”

“We know you don’t,” Clint yells, and she gives him the finger in return- but everyone jogs over to her.

“Listen up, we’ve had a last minute change for the competition at Vision Studios next week! Everyone, you remember James?” You look to your left and find him standing to one side, looking a little awkward. It’s jarring to hear his name after so long: like it’s a reminder of those first, tentative steps you took towards friendship. You hastily look back at Wanda. “Unfortunately, Leo can no longer make the competition, so James will be taking his spot. I expect you all to help him out so that we can kick ass!”

“Understood,” You mutter, and Wanda shoots you a grin.

“Alright! To make it a little easier on you, James, we’ll go over the routines you’ve already learned: Stay, Weapon of Choice and So Good. I’ll help you all out with the transitions. Move it!”

“Start off in three lines,” You say out of the corner of your mouth, as the others automatically file into position, “Over here.” The two of you walk to your mark, halfway down the middle row. “How much can you remember?”

Bucky’s shoulders visibly relax. “I might struggle with a lot of things,” He smirks, “But remembering routines isn’t one of them.”

You roll your eyes, then crouch down into your starting pose. “OK, genius, whatever you say.” And before he can retort, the music starts.

~~

He’s not wrong. Not once does he stumble, or wobble, or lag behind the beat. It’s almost unfair how easy he makes it look. You go through the motions almost carelessly in comparison; being thrown back together so suddenly has made you feel awkward, verging on clumsy. You make are no mistakes, but every time the routine forces you into Bucky’s personal space, you have to keep yourself from leaning back.

Still, you make it to the end of the rehearsal. When you can finally step away and put a little distance between yourself and Bucky, you feel a tangible wave of relief. You hadn’t realised how much still lay between you, despite your conversation last night. When you finally catch a glimpse of his expression, however, the disappointment in it makes your stomach drop a few inches.

“Bucky,” You say, impulsively, “Do you want to go get a coffee?”

He turns to look at you. “Now?”

All of a sudden, it seems like a stupid idea. “Sorry. I know you’re busy, and I dragged you out here in the first place-”

“No.” He cuts you off, his face suddenly hopeful. “No, coffee would be great.”

You catch Clint signing something over Bucky’s shoulder, and have to employ a great deal of effort refraining from rolling your eyes. Told you so.

Then you remember to smile. “OK. I’ll- um-”

“Stretch? Don’t tell me you’ve been slacking.” Something seems to have eased in Bucky’s face, and his teasing is comfortable, gentle. You really do roll your eyes this time.

“Fine.” Things aren’t quite relaxed enough to joke about whether you really should have invited him to practice, so you decide to drop gracelessly to the floor and start stretching. Truth be told, you have been stretching- but only because Wanda threatened to string you up above the studio door if you stopped. When you tell Bucky as much, he laughs. It’s the first time you’ve heard him laugh properly since everything fell apart: it’s equal parts intoxicating and devastating.

Ten minutes later, the two of you wander into a coffee shop down the road and snag a small table by the window. Being in such close (and, more specifically, date-like) proximity has the immediate effect of stifling all your conversational powers. You nervously push the wooden stirrer around your mug and chew your lower lip.

“So?”

You look up and find Bucky watching you. Unsure, you shrug. “So?”

His mouth twitches. “So.”

Leaning forwards, you blow on your drink. “So.”

“So.”

A snicker bursts out of you. “Look, we can’t substitute the word so for an actual conversation.”

The raised eyebrow. Idly, you reflect that the raised eyebrow will probably be the death of you.

“Can’t we?”

“No.” You try to sound firm. “Because I said so.”

“Because you said so.” His words dissolve into a smile, and you grin despite yourself.

“You’re…” You trail off. The fear of saying something hurtful blocks your throat. Your noble intentions mean fuck all to me…

“Y/N?” Bucky’s voice is light, but a serious undercurrent tugs at his words. “You can still insult me, you know. I feel like that’s a key component of our relationship.”

“God. That sounds awful.” You speak without thinking, then wince. ”I didn’t mean-” You take a deep breath. Now is probably the moment. “I just- I don’t think you’re a bad person.”

“Thanks. But- I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

You stare at him. It’s his turn to shrug. “I fucked up.”

“I mean- yeah. But, so did I.” Your thoughts have been clarifying over the past hour, and now you’re ready to explain. “I completely cut you off after the worst day of your life.” Bucky looks like he’s going to interrupt, but you shake your head and carry on. “OK, you started it. But I automatically assumed that you’d bailed on me.”

“Which I had-”

“But if I’d called you, five days or a week or whenever, would you have picked up?”

Bucky stares at you for a moment. Then he deflates.

“I… I don’t know. Probably. Even in the back of my mind, at that party, I wondered if you might be there. If I might run into you.”

You snort. “You did more than that.”

His grin is wry. “True.”

“Anyway, the point is that I overreacted. You overreacted. I guess I was already worried that you were going to drop me when you got signed-” The confession is out of your mouth before you can stop it, and Bucky stares at you with the exact kicked-puppy expression you’d hoped to avoid.

“Wait, what?”

You grimace, helplessly. “When you got signed by a company. I figured you’d… Move on.”

To your relief, Bucky’s expression of concern fades into one of exasperation. “Of course not.” He gives a little laugh. “You really thought that?”

“Yep.” You feel yourself relaxing, and your voice loosens up as your breathing comes easier. “And this is what I mean! If I’d just talked to you about it-”

“No, no I should have realised-”

“No, you shouldn’t.” You say it with a fair amount of force, and Bucky draws up short. “You’re not a mind-reader. Neither am I. We just… We should just talk. I think that’s what this whole spiel has been about.”

You take a large sip of your drink and stare hurriedly out of the window. The conviction in your voice surprised even you. Bucky, however, is looking at you like you’ve just discovered sliced bread.

“You’re serious?” His question is slow, like he can’t really believe it. “You’re prepared to give this another shot?”

You tilt your head, chewing your lower lip. “I… didn’t say that. But I don’t want you to feel like you have to accept all the blame.”

And yeah, another shot isn’t off the cards. But saying that feels like too great a leap of faith, so you stay silent as Bucky nods his understanding.

“OK.”

There’s a moment of silence. Then he smirks. “So…”

You don’t even hesitate before leaning over and hitting him with a napkin.

AN: We did it!!! We’re on the road to the finish line. I would like to take this usual opportunity to thank you all- The Ace Gang, you are the best- and @systemfailuresunshine who I am missing a great deal thanks to stupid time zones. She is, as I have said many times, the reason this exists. Now, don’t hold me to this, but I will *try* to post a chapter a day until we’re done. I will try. I send you all of the love and hugs.

Tag List:  @learisa; @vintagesaph; @debzybrazy; @madeofstarsdust; @beingcrushedbysociety; @plumsforbuck2016; @buckybabybaby; @seb-styles; @youtube-obsessed-duh; @casdoesntunderstandthatreference; @sunnycolors; @imthemishamigo; @themarvelousmaximoffs; @blonde0n; @smaug-the-homedog; @gabby913; @sexyashmike; @fuckinxqueenx; @velociraptorinae; @frnkensteingrl; @tattooideasforthefuture; @inlovewithnovels; @ipaintmelodies; @whimsicaldreaming; @olicia-leeshy; @xxamix; @xxblackteabinchxx; @v-ickie; @imnegativetillbepositive; @lilythelionflower; @witchinghour24; @hollycornish; @lucyvaughan-omg-; @thel0stpr1ncess; @kur0k1tsun3-blog; @siobhanrebecca; @thighs0fbetrayal; @ur-an-indiana-boy-sonny; @fungk17; @da363; @sorryidontspeakgrounder-world; @burtheimperium; @fandom-writes; @farawell; @dorisagent101; @ghostwriterfanfics; @avengers–marvel; @the-creative-lie; @ms-brown10; @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme; @marvelsavengersforever1227; @winchesterforever12; @stomachfilledwithbutterflies; @fictionwillneverdie; @basicwhiskeyprincesss; @tortadigranchio; @supikasia; @moonandstars-xo; @greengrassdiaries; @jiminera; @irreplaceablevogue; @jechloandhyde; @damagelove; @schaart; @satansknittingclub; @scentedcoffeefire; @brooke-supernatural16; @sarahmichelle5; @dreeams-unwind; @damnbuckyishot; @thestuffyouwant; @obliviousheaven; @moist-bread1234; @josiecarlton; @give-me-a-million-dollars-pls; @imyessieakiyama; @brooklyn-to-battlefields; @apolleo; @jadedomega; @marvelrevival; @artistic22dragon; @emolordisme; @butcanipetyourdog; @flowerbunbunny

Part 14