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arjwrites · 2 months

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I'm not the same annon that requested it(I'm not that creative) but could we get a sequel to the saving grace fic?? Like, I was reading it and it was so good I was soo invested in the story and then it ended 😭😭 I've been looking for any Cas fics in general but I think yours are by far the Greatest💕💕

Saving Grace pt. 2 - Castiel x GN!Reader

Summary: Part 2 to Saving Grace!

Warnings: References to sex, use of Y/N. GN!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: HEHEHE this one was a little silly but I love it. I feel like it ends really abruptly but I really wanted to get it done. I think I am going to write a little epilogue blurb to finish this, look for that sometime next week! Thanks for requesting this anon, I hope you enjoy <3

Link to Epilogue

Since your initial encounter with Cas’s wings, the two of you had fallen into a regular routine. At the end of the day, whether the team had just finished a difficult hunt or many long hours of research, Cas would pull you aside to discretely ask for your assistance, and the two of you would tuck yourselves away from the Winchesters for some privacy.

“Y/N, could you… Check out my wings again? Something feels off.” He’d ask, usually averting your gaze.

“Of course, Cas!” The chance to touch his wings always excited you, but you quickly worked to calm yourself, to play things cool. “I will, uh, be in the other room when you’re ready.”

In the last few weeks, the angel had asked you to comb through his wings more times than he had ever mentioned them in the years you had known him. And more often than not, you never found any debris to remove or injury to assess. You found this peculiar, but you never said a word about it. Grooming through Cas’s wings was a job that you carried out carefully, dutifully, accepting your salary in the form of quality time with your dear angel.

Sometimes, when you and Cas would hide away to share this secret ritual, the angel would talk, and you would listen. He’d tell you about heaven, about things he had seen in his time on Earth, and all the things that weighed heavy on his mind. Other times, he was quiet. In these times, you would take the lead. You would tell him about your childhood or recount stories of your life before his arrival. He would listen intently, committing every detail to memory. Your heart would swell when he would bring up something you had told him in another conversation. He was so considerate.

Beyond being an emotional release for the two of you, the physical sensation was like nothing else either of you had experienced. For Cas, it was a relief and relaxation that he hadn’t experienced in as long as he had occupied his vessel on Earth. Sometimes it felt as if his grace, his true form, was bottled up tight inside of him, threatening to spill over. But in these moments with you, he could let it slip out of him, and feel the cool breeze that was your touch rippling through his feathers. And for you, it was divine in every sense of the word. It was more than just the softness and majesty of his wings. With each stroke of your fingers, a feeling of such peace came over your body. It was like the moment of warmth you felt when Cas healed you after a hunt- only stretched from a brief second into minutes, hours. It took a long time for you to grow comfortable holding casual conversation while working through Cas’s wings. You often felt that they demanded your full attention- like they were using their incandescent glow to speak to you in a language you had never learned yet understood perfectly. But you often reminded yourself that this time was for Cas, so you counted yourself lucky and chatted along with the angel for the sake of his comfort.

As this routine became more commonplace, it grew to drag on longer and longer. Initially, you and Cas were quick, subtle, doing your best to fly under the radar so that Sam and Dean wouldn’t notice your absences. But there was something about spending this time with him that was so intoxicating. Each time you would linger in each other’s presence for a few extra precious moments. Sometimes, you would disappear together for hours on end. Cas would typically leave the Winchesters in a frantic or distant state, and return serene and satisfied. Undoubtedly, the boys were starting to take notice.

Today was one of those days where your time with Cas had been greatly extended. You both had gotten caught up swapping stories about the most beautiful things you had ever seen. You had gone on and on about the glimpse of the northern lights you and the boys had caught when a hunt had taken you up to Canada, while Cas had described wonders both heavenly and earthly that you could barely imagine. But the whole time, there was something lingering beneath the surface. When he had first asked you the question, you had desperately wanted to scream out You, Castiel. Your wings, your grace, your presence. You are the most beautiful thing I have had the pleasure of knowing. But, of course, you did not. And it seemed like there was something left unsaid on both sides, because when Cas talked through his own answer, he had hesitated before speaking and trailed off after finishing, in a way that was so different from his usual direct and succinct tone.

After finishing the routine, you had retreated to your room, your mind racing through every possible thought Cas could have been thinking. The angel, on the other hand, had ventured out into the bunker, only to find Sam and Dean perched in waiting. Cas acknowledged them both, intending to keep the interaction brief, but it seemed the brothers had different plans.

“Where have you been, Cas?” Dean gruffed in an accusatory tone.

“What do you mean?” he asked, avoidantly.

Sam and Dean shared a quick look, silently communicating in their typical Winchester telepathy. Cas watched, unsure of their intentions, but nevertheless eager to get out of the conversation as soon as possible.

“You’ve been spending an awful lot of time with Y/N, recently,” Sam noted, inching carefully towards the topic.

“Yes, I have.” It was true. Another Winchester glance ensued.

“So, uh… What have you guys been… doing?” Dean questioned.

Cas thought for a moment. This wasn’t something he wanted to share with the Winchesters- it was something sacred shared between the two of you. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Sam and Dean, but there was something about the act that felt so vulnerable. Plus, it wouldn’t take them long to realize what Cas was up to. He definitely didn’t need this sort of grooming on a regular basis- it was all a ruse to be close to you, alone. It was one of the few pleasures he allowed himself to take part in, and in some ways he felt guilty- like it was wrong to let you do this for him, like he was using you. And if the boys found his secret out, would they tell you? He had to deflect.

“Y/N has been helping me,” was all he could come up with in response.

“Helping you with what, Cas?” Sam probed, not ready to let him out easy.

Again, Cas stalled for a beat. “With some private business.”

“Well Cas, whatever it is, we can help too,” Dean stood, beginning to inch towards the angel.

“No.” His gaze hardened. This is where his heart would’ve started beating faster, if it did that kind of thing.

“No?” Confusion and the slightest hint of anger laced Dean’s voice. “Cas, that’s what we’re here for. Is it dangerous?”

“No. It’s intimate. Not any of your business.”

At this, Sam and Dean shared a third look, this one very different from the first two. This time, their eyes were wide, their mouths opening and closing in tandem as if volleying the same thoughts back and forth, neither sure how to articulate them. After a deafening few moments of silence, Dean spoke.

“So… You’re being… Intimate, with Y/N…” he trailed off.

“Yes.” He nodded, hoping they would accept that and move on, not understanding the connotations of his words.

“And you… You care about Y/N… Right?” Sam chimed in.

Cas furrowed his brow. “Of course I do. Very much so. This isn’t something I would do with someone I didn’t love.” His tone was matter-of-fact. Of course he loved you. Maybe he hadn’t yet told you, but… Of course he did.

“Okay. Okay. Good.” The boys nodded to each other as if offering some sort of approval that Cas had not been seeking after. And when they turned to look back at him, the angel was gone.

Your slippered feet flopped against the hard floors of the bunker as you traveled the distance between your room and the kitchen, on a pilgrimage in search of a snack. The bunker felt eerily quiet- you didn’t run into either Winchester nor your angel during your journey. It wasn’t until you closed the fridge, satisfied with your selection, and turned to retreat, that you noticed Sam and Dean behind you. Your heart leapt out of your chest at the jump-scare, but they wasted no time in speaking.

“Hey, so, uh, we heard what’s been going on.” Dean was awkwardly scratching the back of his neck as he spoke.

“Yeah, and we wanted to say… You guys don’t have to like, hide it anymore, or anything,” Sam added.

“I mean we don’t want to, like, see you do it-” Dean chimed in.

“Right! Right. We don’t. But-”

“What the hell are you guys talking about?” You interjected.

“Well Cas told us what you two have been doing. Don’t worry, it wasn’t like a ‘kiss and tell,’ we had to pry it out of him-”

“And what exactly did he say we were doing?”

The boys looked at each other sideways, as if a silent rock paper scissors was determining who would speak. It seemed that Dean had lost.

“Well the word he used was being ‘intimate.’” Dean made air-quotes as he spoke. “It was kinda sweet, though. Said he wouldn’t do it with someone he didn’t love, and-”

“Oh my GOD,” was all you could get out. They thought you two were having sex. Cas said he loved you. Your mind couldn’t decide which you needed to address first, but it seemed your feet had chosen for you when you backed out of the room, turned on your heels, and ran.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed!” Sam called after you, but you were gone.

It was as if a magnet was pulling you towards the angel. You had a feeling you knew exactly where he would be- not a conscious thought, but more of a natural instinct that was carrying your body in concert with your legs. The narrow bunker hallways whipped past you and it felt like you were flying. If you could’ve flown to Cas in that moment, you would have.

And there he was, perched exactly where you thought he would be. Looking at him now, it felt like the world had opened up around you. He said he loved you. He loves you.

“Hello, Y/N.” Cas looked at you with a soft smile, and you froze.

You had raced to him on pure adrenaline, but now, you weren’t sure what to say, do, think. Your mouth hung open for a moment, before finally forming the words.

“I just spoke with Sam and Dean,” you said, plainly.

“I see. They must have figured it out. I’m very sorry, Y/N. I don’t want you to think I am taking advantage of you by asking for your help with my wings, or-”

“Cas, they think we’re having sex.”

Cas cocked his head to the side and shifted his gaze behind you, processing what you had said. “I see.”

“Why do they think that, Cas?”

He drew in a silent breath that melted his facial features. His whole presence softened, as if he had made up his mind about something that had worried him for so long.

“Well, you see… They asked me why we had been spending so much time alone. And I didn’t want them to know about what we were doing because… It’s very vulnerable, Y/N. It is a lot of trust that I place in you. And I feel guilty, because it isn’t something you should have to do. It’s selfish but it feels so good, and…”

“And what, Castiel.”

“It’s a reason for me to be close to you.”

His words sent your heart skyrocketing and pulled you across the room, closing the final few feet between you. There were a million things you could have said. You could have reassured him he wasn’t selfish, told him how much you enjoyed helping him, or laughed at him for the confusion he caused. But instead, you gave all of those feelings a moment to bubble up in your chest before funneling them into a kiss. A soft kiss, a gentle kiss, and yet, one that was driven by so much emotion that it couldn’t help but be firm, absolute. And the angel kissed you back.

You lips lingered together for as long as you each could bear, before pulling gently away in unison. The smile on his face spoke volumes before you could even open your mouth.

“You can be close to me whenever you’d like, Cas.”

“I’d like that,” he nodded.

Now, to deal with those Winchesters.

#requests <3 #castiel x reader #castiel x y/n #castiel x you #supernatural reader insert #castiel #castiel reader insert #castiel x gn!reader #supernatural gn!reader

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thixms · 25 days

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okay the way this all has come full circle. after almost exactly 7 years i finally finished airplanes. some ppl might remember my posts screaming about it (they sometimes still get likes i think lmao) so yea no i was like that deep into it and was like with that shit almost from day 1. crazy to see on tiktok that ppl are still talking about it and some ppl are only now getting into teen wolf/thiam and reading that fic. like everyone in the thiam fandom knows this fic is THE thiam fic. like i knew and know the fic is good but crazy to see that the fic i loved sm is still getting its recognition. i feel kinda like i'm "entitled" to say i was from day 1 !!! i knew it was gonna be good even there when not that many were around !! lmaoo. i only "abandoed" it cuz my lack of attention as a teenager threw me from hyperfixation and fandom to another. plus i got to experience actual life stuff and kinda abandoned my roots.. IT DOESNT MEAN THE FIC WASNT GOOD ENOUGH OKAY

but OKAY what i wanted to say is how fucking goood this fic is. yk it has to be good if i literally went back after "abandoning" it for 7 years and finish reading it. literally no fic in any fandom has managed to do that for me. and i still enjoyed it so so much! that's how you know the fic is good. i reread it and still laughed so fucking much like tf how is it possible for a fic to be so entertaining and good? it makes fucking sense why. it's timeless, it's a masterpiece. istg, i'd almost say it's canon now or like at least some of its thiam headcannons def are canon to me. like i'm not sure id airplanes came out w the idea that theo likes biology or it was actually mentioned in teen wolf?? that's how good the characterization of thiam was like i really am getting canon and airplanes canon mixed up lmao. @thiamfresh i think you might know by now what kind of a cultural reset you created for the thiam fandom but i just wanted you to read and know it again for sure. i don't even know if u still use tumblr.. but i think i saw some time ago you posting about seeing some hate being written about airplanes and you feeling insecure about it. and i just wanted to say you really shouldn't pay attention to it!! i hope this long ass rant post will show you how good and loved this fic is. it's still getting mentioned so so often in the fandom. like it's some find of bible or like manual to thiam as the ship lmaoo. so yea, me loving this fic as a somewhat developed adult and someone a bit more removed from the fandom defenitely a testemant to how good it is.

okay now i gotta rant about my life tho..

because jesus, i also only realized now that it was one of the first few fics i read on ao3 (i was a wattpad reader before, don't shame me pls, we all had to come from somewhere). but yea no, crazy that thiam was literally the start of me being solely reading fics (& fics of other fandoms) on ao3, as well as LITERALLY CREATING THIS TUMBLR BLOG??? HELLO?? IT'S LITERALLY CALLED THIXMS LMAO. it's crazy that it's been 7 years like wdym 7??? that's fucking long ago. i'm not even that old??? (i'm feeling really old rn) like how is my thiam phase already 7 years ago (and literally why did it come back after literal 7 years lmao). i mean, my teen wolf stan (as well as my thiam stan) kinda already came out last year with the release of that trashy ahh movie we're not gonna talk about. but yea no there i failed to commit and finish the fic and didn't get deep into the fandom enough. life happened tbh. but yea no 2023 and 2024 (especially 2024) crazy ass years. the way i experienced so much (good) real life shit, literally lived out my (childhood/teenage) dreams but also fell back into my weird niche interests??? like how tf did i have time for that??? (my sleep schedules hella fucked. it's fucked from every direction by the amount of unresolved jetlags i have).

what i'm trying to say is: 14yo me reading airplanes would never believe what 21 yo me will experience and be able to do but also won't believe i'm still reading the same fic (no i would, i really thought i was soo deep into this thiam shit that i'd still be obsessed even when i'm an adult and i wasn't wrong lmao). makes sense why i feel like time hasn't moved on and i'm still a teenager. i'm literally doing the same thing as 14yo me. laying in bed ranting on tumblr about thiam.. jeeez, it should be embarrassing ngl.

#thiam #thiam airplanes #teen wolf #liam dunbar #theo raeken #liam and theo #teen wolf ending #thiam fic #thiam is endgame #thiam au #scott mccall #stiles stilinksi #derek hale

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phoenix-and-found-family · 7 months

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Hello people who found this craziness entertaining!

I made this blog because I was bored and wanted a place to lore dump about my ocs without bothering the few normal people that come across my main blog

‼️DISCLAIMER: THE ART IN THE HEADER ISN'T MINE! I got it from this picrew: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1473879‼️

You can ask my characters anything you want, just be aware I won't answer asks I'm not comfortable answering/are about upcoming lore that I don't want to spoil before I write it

Just state who the question is for, and if you don't I'll assume the question is for me and answer accordingly

Basic blog things:

Sorry Phoenix x Juniper shippers, my blog doesn't do that because I personally don't see it. But I support if you ship them and love to see stuff like that! I do ship Prism x Reginald though, and Prism x Fabby...

Basically I ship her with everyone except Phoenix and maybe John.

Also, I have no drawing skills at all, so please don't expect me to draw them doing anything 😭 (edit: I have a couple drawing skills now and plan to use all of them for this >:3)

My Phoenix!!!

Name: [REDACTED]

Codename: Agent Phoenix

Age: 22

Pronouns: They/Them

Height: 5'2" No fuck that I'm totally 6'3" and have large muscles

Joined the agency at: 18

Favorite color(s): Red and Black

Disability(s): Agent Phoenix is missing their right leg from a horrible car crash that claimed the lives of their parents at 14, forcing them to live on the streets for two years until they eventually got scouted by the agency. Miraculously, even though they've been in far worse danger and experienced far worse pain, they have not sustained any other lasting injuries.

Personality: Imagine if the Norse god Loki and a can of Monster Energy drink had a child who likes to commit arson as a hobby.

Random facts: Phoenix can read, write, and speak fluent English, Spanish, and Japanese because their parents moved around all the time and barely stayed in one place for more than a month. They're also pretty good at Mandarin Chinese, Portuguese, and Galic, but have absolutely no understanding of Italian.

They can do some basic martial arts, but they mainly excel at accidental stealth and all-out brawl style fights, for they are very fast and good at analyzing how exactly to take an enemy out.

They are diagnosed with autism and auditory schizophrenia, although they believe that they may also have ADHD because of how much stimulation they need to get their job done.

Lore posts

Here are the links (Oldest to Youngest by when I posted them) to posts that give you more lore about my versions of these characters

The Home Argument (Handler's perspective)

The Home Argument (Phoenix's perspective)

The Agency can Wait

Random Headcannons (self h@rm mention)

What became of Solaris (Radio transmission #1)

The Call

A Phoenix burns hottest when it's Born Again (Part 1)

The Most Perfect Name

I know I'm pathetic (angst)

Incident report 067 (more angst)

Can't cage a Phoenix arc

Brothers of the Stars (long ass RP chain with @the-one-and-only-043 )

Who's Trevor? (slightly angsty)

The most painful way to say goodbye (even longer RP chain with @the-one-and-only-043 and @wyvchard (sorry for the tags))

The Victim of a Basilisk (Part 1)

Agency file: The Basilisk & Dr. Vadas

The Victim of a Basilisk (Part 2)

Dream Cast ( @wyvchard version)

Dream Cast ( @the-one-and-only-043 version)

Screen Cast (right after the other two, some Agent Circuit lore)

OC's

Agent Ombre (profile)

Agent Circuit Board (image)

Rants (that may or may not contain lore)

Reginald Crane is a professional

John Juniper is known for his lies

A Reversal of Roles (ieytd au)

Random lore (doesn't really have a name)

Operation: Deluge (ieytd au)

How do you kill a Phoenix? (announcement post)

Random things you should probably know beforehand

Prologue: The Death of a Phoenix (This takes you directly to the Ao3 chapter, heads up)

Unconditional Love (Roxanix fic thingy, full of angst)

Part one (Prism's Perspective)

Part one (Phoenix's Perspective)

Part two (Reginald's Perspective)

Part two (Phoenix's Perspective)

A trip to the past (fic idea by @kayssweetdreams , thank you!)

Part one

Random ask things

Phoenix's text will be red

Reginald's text will be orange

Juniper's text will be green

Prism's text will be blue

Fabricator's text will be purple

We've also got Hivemind and his text is pink

(this does not apply to lore posts(usually(sometimes I add this system in because it's hard to tell who's talking)))

Thanks for reading! That's all for now :3

#blog intro #agent phoenix #ieytd #ieytd askblog #ieytask

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babyjakes · 2 years

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for june.

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | whumptember 2022

prompt | grief

pairing | fiance!ari levinson x reader

warnings | story is very much based on my own experience (read the author's note for more), very heavy topics related to child loss (fic includes early-stage miscarriage with minimal details given but blood is briefly mentioned and delayed grieving. author's note includes some details of my own story, similar in intensity to the fic)- please don't read if these matters are upsetting to you, reader is young-ish (around 20) and ari's age is left up to the reader, full of sadness and also full of love and healing, ari is everything i needed and didn't get, third person pov because it sounded better for whatever reason.

word count | 1,563

an | this is probably the most personal and vulnerable story i have ever written and posted. i've wanted to write something like this for a while, as writing pieces like these is something i always find a lot of peace and healing in, but it took me a long time to get here. in december of 2021, i had an unexpected miscarriage from an unknown pregnancy. unlike the reader in this story, i went through all of it completely alone. my partner did not know how to support or care for me. i spent the first hours bleeding alone on the floor of the shower. nearly a year later, i have finally healed enough to open up about my experience more on this platform and share this story of reader and a soft, kind, loving ari who is everything i needed and deserved. i hope anyone who has experienced similar loss can find some comfort here. i am asking for everyone to please just hold this story with care. it is very special to me, and i'm taking a big step in sharing it all with you.

It was the sort of thing she just couldn't have seen coming. She wasn't aware of what was happening until it was already over. And in a way, that seemed to make it a little less terrible. In fact, there were many things she convinced herself were in her favor. She was young for it to be happening. She and her fiance Ari certainly weren't planning or trying for anything. And she had no desire to have a child at that time in her life, she really didn't. So, it was okay. For a while, it was okay.

Of course it had been awful, one of the most terrifying things she had ever experienced. Because she had been unaware of the pregnancy, the sudden deterioration of her body and the beginning of what was really the end had been incredibly jarring. The blood, she had never seen anything like the blood. But once the hours spent curled up in the empty bathtub were over, followed by the week or two of on and off pain, it simply seemed to be just that: over. Life went on, for her and everyone around her.

Ari knew, he was the only one. She had told him after the fact, and when she hadn't seemed interested in having much of a conversation about it, the man decided not to push anything. She was grateful for that; she felt a little strange about not having much to say. She had waves of emotion, weird spells of sadness and sometimes anger. But for whatever reason, whenever she tried to pull apart the feelings to examine their contents, she found that she couldn't. Her doctor, who she had followed up with a few weeks after the fateful night, had warned her about the hormonal shifts she would be experiencing for a while to come. "Your body is designed to care for a child as soon as it exists inside you. When the child dies, your body is designed to mourn."

But for a while, there didn't seem to be much real mourning happening inside of her. Until one quiet morning in early spring, when Ari brought home a simple gift for the baby shower of a friend.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," Ari cooed as he entered the kitchen to find y/n sitting at the breakfast table, still in her pajamas with her hair tied back in her usual messy bun. Taking a sip from her mug of coffee, the girl offered a nod and a smile as the tall man came over to plant a kiss on her forehead, a few plastic bags still in hand from his errands.

"Hey you," she hummed, tilting her head up to kiss his chin, "the bed was lonely without you this morning."

"Sorry sweetheart, just wanted to get out to the shops before things got busy. And you looked too comfy to disturb you," Ari murmured lovingly as he took a seat next to his partner, placing his bags up on the light birch table next to her half-eaten plate of eggs and toast.

"Looks like it was a successful run," y/n nodded at the assortment of brands she could barely make out on the plastic carriers. Nodding, Ari began to go through the haul, pulling out what he had found to show her.

"Yeah, for the most part. I couldn't find those replacement beaters you were talking about, but maybe I was looking in the wrong spot. You'll have to come with me next time and we can look together," he rambled. "Did find the right bit for the drill, though. And some of those raspberry gummies you love so much, the confectionary had a big sale sign in its window so I figured I had to stop in."

"You're too sweet, Ari," the girl blushed as her eyes lit up at the little bag of candies.

"Only the sweetest for my sweetheart," the man smiled kindly as y/n took another bite of her toast. "Oh, and I picked up a gift for Kelly's shower. Those baby boutiques are serious danger zones, I swear. Too much cute stuff," Ari chuckled as he nodded at the small white bag from one of the higher-end specialty stores.

"Oh," y/n hummed with a nod, recognizing the brand. "That place does have some nice stuff. I forgot about the shower, it's a good thing you remembered. What'd you find?" she asked casually as she took her last bite of egg.

Reaching his hand into the bag, Ari's face lit up as he pulled out the gift. "Look at this, I just thought it was so precious. Little kitties on the feet and everything," he gushed as he held up the pastel yellow onesie for his fiance to see. Eyes landing softly on the article of clothing, y/n nodded, taking a moment to chew and swallow before placing down her fork, reaching out for the hanger.

"So cute," she nodded in agreement as she looked over the kitten-patterned fabric lovingly, the sheer size of the garment causing her eyes to widen a bit in wonder. "Wow, this little one's gonna be tiny, isn't she?"

"So tiny," Ari echoed, still smiling as she examined his choice, "I know maybe clothing wasn't the best option, since she'll grow out of it fast, but I got a gift card along with it. I just couldn't not get the kitties, y'know?"

Again, the girl nodded. But as she did, what came as a surprise to maybe both of the couple as they sat there together at the kitchen table was the fact that for the first time in maybe months, y/n had begun to cry.

Brow raising in concern, Ari softened his voice. "Sweetheart...?"

Not taking her eyes off the precious gift still held delicately in her hands, y/n's response was barely above a whisper. "Hey Ari?"

"Hmm? What is it, bubba?" the man asked gently, scooting his chair a bit closer to hers and reaching a hand over to rest on her knee comfortingly.

Y/n blinked back what she could of her tears, her voice shaking a little as she responded. "You know, sometimes I..." Her sentence broke, but Ari only nodded patiently. "Sometimes I... sometimes I think of her."

"Who, honey?" he asked carefully.

"Y-you know... ours." As soon as the words left her mouth, Ari was hit with the realization of what she meant. Nodding again, he reached up to wipe at a few of the weeping girl's tears, though they were quickly replaced by more. "I-I don't know why I decided she was a girl. I just... I guess I just always thought she was. Maybe that's silly."

"Not silly, baby," Ari murmured lowly as he kept his tender gaze on her, wanting to show the way he was holding onto her every word, to show he was really listening.

"I guess I... I don't know. Maybe I've decided a lot of things about her without realizing it. She would've been born around June... sometimes, I call her that in my head. June."

"Could've been a Junie," Ari whispered, his voice swelling a little at the word, "that's a beautiful name, sweetheart."

"Junie," y/n nodded, hands shaking as she still held up the tiny onesie in front of the both of them. "I know never really got sad about it, or at least... I never got as sad as I thought I was supposed to be."

"There's no way you were 'supposed to be', y/n," he reminded her. "However you felt, however you feel, is okay and right. It's okay if you weren't as sad in the beginning. It's okay if you're feeling it more now."

"I'm just thinking of her," y/n whispered softly. "I don't know... I don't know why. Sometimes I see baby things, ads for toys or clips from parents online, and I just..." Ari nodded as her voice trailed off, running his hand back over her hair as he listened. "Hey Ari?"

"Yeah, lovebug?"

"Can we..." Sniffling, y/n hesitated. "Could we... I don't know. Maybe this is stupid, but-"

"No sweetheart. Not stupid. Please don't say that," Ari cooed, sincerity shining in his eyes as he told her, "Whatever it is, if it's something that would help you, something that would bring you a little more peace, it's not stupid. Nothing like that could be stupid, baby."

"I was just thinking," she sighed. "Maybe we could go out sometime and buy her a few things? And just... I don't know. We could keep them somewhere, maybe?"

Smiling at the girl as she wiped away the last of her tears, Ari held no hesitation or doubts as he immediately agreed, "Of course we can do that, honey. Anything you want, it's yours. It's hers. Maybe I can make a nice little toy crate for her- y'know, paint her name on it and everything. And we can put it all in there- how's that sound, sweet girl?"

Eyes filling with tears once again, y/n nodded, finally setting the little yellow onesie down on the table before reaching over to collapse against Ari in a hug. Rubbing her back as he kissed the side of her head, the man whispered in her ear again, "Anything you want, baby. Anything for you, and Junie."

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inneskeeper-receipts · 1 year

Text

Threatening legal action is a common tactic abusers use, especially when the person they abused comes forward about the abuse. This is a silencing tactic. I'm not surprised, I guess, but it is disappointing, and frankly fucked up;

I don't have a cent to my name at the moment, and rely on social services to stay alive because I am disabled and can't hold a job because of my disabilities. Fighting with bureaucracy in order to get disability payments and the other accommodations I need is currently my full-time job. Innes is aware of this, because not much has changed since we were together in terms of my finances and overall situation. He would be suing a disabled & impoverished queer trans man.

I am trying to be real about my experiences and what happened to me-- that's a major reason that I've been posting screenshots. They remind me that what happened to me was real, even if it was just online. It's grounding, not to "air dirty laundry", but to have backing proof for what I have been saying. I am not lying.

I was gaslit for so long into believing that it was mutually toxic, no good guys or bad guys but when I looked back at what had been said, there's just... No way that is the case. I literally don't have anything to gain from this except seeing someone be held accountable & experiencing some sense of closure! I am not the one posting my fundraiser link every time I am confronted.

I thought for a long, long time before posting the screenshots regarding Innes' own trauma. I did not want to initially, but I also do not feel it is my responsibility to protect him anymore, and it gives further context and evidence of the zoophilia. I agree, what he went through is fucked up and traumatizing. There's really no other way to put it. But that isn't an excuse to engage in zoophilia, to make zoophilic comments about real life animals, and to talk about committing zoophilia in real life.

The context in which he brought it up was because he had sent me a Gore Magala monsterfucking fic. The discussion was pretty unprompted to be honest, and I was uncomfortable at the time he sent those messages but didn't really know what to say, except that I wanted to be a supporting partner. Again, this was the first time zoophilia was brought up. Not about my own paraphilias or kinks, but about Innes'.

I have not been bringing up the zoophilia in order to hide my necrophilia. I'm not ashamed about having necrophilic fantasies, because I know that they will remain only fantasies-- particularly because the brunt of my fantasies involve me being the corpse.

Despite being kinky and weird, I don't want to hurt anyone in real life just to get off! I think mentioned prior, but there are different classes of necrophilia, some of which are solely fantasies. I'd like to be the more... passionate cathy to someone's heathcliff, you know? & If something does not cause you to harm yourself or others, or does not cause you distress to experience, it's not a disorder or a problem. If it does cause you harm, or cause you to harm other things, then something is wrong and you need to get help.

To reiterate: I don't care what fiction or fantasies someone has. That's not real. I don't care about words on a screen or lines on a page. I care about real harm done.

I do not trust Innes enough to speak with them privately. When I initially came out about the abuse, I told my therapist about the situation, and how Innes had said things would be better "if I had just spoken with him privately". My therapist disagreed: The only thing that would happen if I spoke to Innes privately is that I would be gaslit and yelled at for having the guts to talk about this publicly at all.

Their initial response to this was for them to DARVO me (shoutout to the random person who messaged me about that, I hadn't heard of the term before) and then at every turn they've tried to bring up things about me in order to hide their own flaws and misdeeds.

Our relationship was not mutually toxic. I will admit I probably was not prepared to be in a relationship again; We had started dating when I was still living in a house with my abuser who terrified me so badly I would barricade my door when I slept, and then had few chances to recover from this as I moved back across the country to escape, and immediately began the battle with bureaucracy to secure public housing for both of us. I was constantly trying to find ways to hustle and save money to move him out, while he spent his money on fibercrafts and video games.

He would do things that I found off, but when I'd bring them up, there was always some sort of excuse. The longer we were together the more I felt like I had to form myself into a mold to be what he wanted me to be. I'd be the cat, the bottom, the submissive, as long as it pleased him. The abuse and manipulation was very, very quiet, very subtle. I didn't notice it until years after the fact. There are things he said about or to me that still haunt me, years after. "I would have to be bisexual in order to be with you (intimately)" being one of them.

Also as an aside, just because abuse happened some years ago doesn't mean that the person who was abused should "just get over it" like him, his friends, & his audience seem to want me to do. I do not think for a second that Innes has actually grown or changed as a person but even if they had, that does not negate the harm done to me in the past, nor does it mean I shouldn't talk about it to avoid hurting someone's reputation. How someone responds matters, too.

As I have said many times, I do not think that Innes is an irreparable monster. I think that Innes terminally lacks the ability to take criticism, the ability to introspect, the ability to tell the goddamn truth, and the ability to acknowledge that the people around him are real living human beings and not building blocks for them to get what they want out of them.

These are all things that can be worked on! They're not permanent, unchangeable character flaws! But if Innes continues to have a platform that supports and endorses them being their worst, I don't think that any of that's going to change, and they're still going to be the toxic person I met 4 years ago, but older.

I have found it concerning enough to talk about publicly, because in those years and through my doubts his audience has grown, and though I've had him blocked and his username blacklisted, somehow I would still see posts by him. I saw the entirety of the train derailment saga go down. I saw how he responded, and it was much, much too like what I'd go through whenever I would catch him in a lie.

He positions himself in a seat of authority on here over a variety of subjects that I do not think he has much of a real claim in whatsoever. It is all too convenient, and knowing the details that I do about their personal life I can't help but call all of these alleged credentials into doubt.

Their ego is fed by engagement. I've known this since the start, but in the beginning I really did want to believe that maybe they were a better person and would just be honest. Even bad engagement is still engagement, like how they always respond to hate. They genuinely crave the attention. They were like this when we were together, too.

Their relationship to their online notoriety is inherently an unhealthy one, and I realize now that I've been feeding into it. I have been feeding into my own continued gaslighting. Whenever I struggle, or say what happened to me, there is always a convenient, twisted excuse as to why it was okay to do to me, or how it didn't really happen "like that", or something.

I have realized that there is no "winning" against someone like this, there is no way for me to convince anyone to believe me. I can give all the evidence in the world for what happened to me, but at the end of the day some people will remain unconvinced, even with the most damning screenshots. I have said my piece, I have spoken extensively about my side of things, and I know what is true. The best thing anyone who reads this and believes me can do is report inneskeeper, report their fundraiser, & then block them without engaging. Any engagement towards him is exactly what he wants. I refuse to feed further into Innes' ego.

prev. pin about the author & situation here

tag list:

zoophilia & linking a 17-year-old his nudes

abuse

manipulation

misappropriation of donated money

transphobia

blaming mental health for poor behavior to avoid accountability

lies

how innes affected my own housing stability

archive of this blog (inneskeeper-receipts)

coercive suicide/ideation

#inneskeeper #esotericecology #thetatteredveil

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sarahowritesostucky · 8 months

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Hi! don't know if you answer asks like this but just curious as a fic writer do you feel different fandoms have cliques where some writers only comment or promote writers they're friends with and not all? and in relation to this, do you think stats are the most important thing to a writers success in a fandom? I know this might seem random but just admire your writing and wanted to hear your thoughts

Interesting ask. Okay well, first off, I squee whenever somebody says they ADMIRE my writing *fans self with nearest flat object, in a flattered, flustered, and ego-inflated emotional state*

second off, I'm fairly new to Tumblr, so I am not the most knowledgeable about this

that said, I think that people on Tumblr do a pretty pitiful job overall of promoting content with reblogs, and comments are even rarer!

I have a core group of people whom I've noticed will always reblog my fics, and I absolutely have friendship-y feelings for them even though they're internet strangers, lol. (I love you guys! 💗)

I think that if you're creating quality content and you aren't an asshat, people will eventually catch on and wind up flocking to you. It's the quality of the content you're putting out there that matters most.

But also be smart and try to post regularly, try to write things you know people love (certain tropes, pairings, kinks, etc). Post at peak times of day, make sure your queue is full and set to post at least several times per day. Stuff like that.

If your OTP/fandom is less popular, commit to writing some micro fics about more popular pairings/fandoms/tropes, just to draw more readers in--They will then be more likely to give your niche stuff a try!

As your followers # grows, you'll get more promotion, just because of sheer numbers. So yes, I think having more followers is important if you want to see more engagement with your content overall. (but again, that follows smart posting and quality content)

However, it only takes a handful of awesome supporters to make for a great fandom experience on Tumblr!

As to cliques, I have experienced some pretty hateful bullying and exclusion on the platform, related to an incident where I was abrasive and made a point about free speech, censorship, being willing to discuss vs cancel, and people who are reactive instead of rational (antis).

long story short, my old account was sent death threats, constant harassing, and vile anons, before being vindictively deleted by a rogue staff member (yes, I've gotten confirmation that this is abuse from other Tumblr representatives)

Antis and trolls definitely flock together in cliques, so exclusion can happen there. Cliques can be helpful in that they weed out the nasties fast.

For example: on my new account, I have noticed that perhaps 20 or so accounts have me blocked--most of them are smalltime/not so great bloggers, but about five of them are very popular Chris Evans or Sebastian Stan authors whose content I would probably otherwise be reading and commenting/re-blogging.

I don't think I interacted with most of them directly on my old account, but they are in the cliques that the antis were in, so they hopped on the block-Sarah train based off of whatever their mutuals said.

I don't read other people's fics on Tumblr so much as I do on Ao3, and I'm more about posting my own stuff on Tumblr, so the blocking isn't really an issue with me (mostly they're the ones losing out on the content promotion I would be doing for them, lol).

I think if people are going to be nasty, negative, reactive-not-rational, not willing to discuss, and just generally mean spirited, do you really want them promoting you anyway? Probably not.

As to the people who are not that way, I'd say: PEOPLE NOTICE WHEN YOU REBLOG AND COMMENT on their stuff.

so the more YOU promote other content creators whose stuff you like, the more they will feel affinity for you and promote your stuff!!

I suggest following TONs of people who are in your fandom--many of them will notice and follow you back. That's the best way to get started if you want to grow your account. But also like I said: put out quality content--honey draws bees; and promote other people's content to create good relationships with mutuals.

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boasamishipper · 2 years

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Please we need more of coyote and hangman and their son 😭

i am planning on writing a whole fic about hangman, coyote, and jack (and their feelings about jack's relationship with nickie), but i hope this will tide you over until then:

growing up, hangman always figured he'd get married and have kids someday (likely with a girl from another old money family; not that either of them would have much of a choice in the matter). it wasn't until he fell in love with coyote that he finally understood people could get married for love and not money or sex or political convenience - and it wasn't until he got roped into playing with nickie bradshaw (phoenix and rooster's daughter) or holding felix avalone (fritz and halo's son) at dagger squad reunions that he started to think having kids was something that he actually wanted too.

coyote always pictured himself having a big family, but once he married hangman - who he Knows had a terrible childhood and was just thought of as something to flaunt (at best) by his parents - and both of their careers took off (and kept them apart more often than not), he kind of figured that having kids was firmly behind him. which was fine by him!! mostly. he was happy with the life he had, and wasn't going to complain about the what-could-have-beens. then a couple years after both of them shift full-time to administrative work (likely when they're in their very early forties), hangman Very Casually brings up that he wouldn't Hate having kids (if that's something coyote would also be open to), and coyote Very Casually bluescreens about it.

they have several very long talks about the idea, establishing that yes, they both want kids, they're both ready to be parents, and they decide to become foster parents. and then coyote and hangman meet jack, and the rest, as they say, is history.

jack is six when coyote and hangman start fostering him, and seven and a half when he is finally, formally adopted. he's very quiet at first, keeping to himself, flinching at loud noises and avoiding eye contact. it takes him a long time to learn that this is for real, that hangman and coyote actually want him and want to get to know him, that he doesn't have to steal and hide his own toothbrush anymore and steal food from the pantry in the middle of the night and hide it in his dresser, just in case. (when coyote and hangman find out some of the things their son experienced in his other foster homes, they both come the closest they have ever gotten to committing murder. coyote especially.)

hangman is absolutely terrified of messing jack up the way his own father messed him (and his older brother) up, and does his utmost to be very careful and polite with jack, never raising his voice or teasing him, keeping his distance. as a result - though it's not hangman's intention - jack grows closest to coyote first: seeking coyote out when he's scared, telling him about his day, hanging around him like a shadow in the kitchen and the living room. hangman does not begrudge coyote this - of course jack likes him best, everybody likes him - but that doesn't stop him from being hurt that no matter what he tries, his son doesn't seem to like him.

you need to stop being so afraid of him, coyote tells him one night in bed, and hangman inwardly scoffs until coyote clarifies. you need to stop being so afraid of messing up. you're going to mess up with him. i am too. it's inevitable.

very optimistic, coyote, thank you, hangman says into his pillow, and coyote sighs.

all i'm saying is no parent is perfect. coyote's voice softens. you gotta relax around him, baby. he's not gonna open up until you do.

hangman tries. all these years together and he still has trouble being open and relaxed around coyote - part of him still convinced that this isn't real, that he'll wake up one day with everything he'd gained gone - but for his son, for their son, he tries. and slowly but surely, jack opens up around him too. the tipping point comes when hangman is called to jack's school (usually it's coyote, but coyote is away for the week for a conference) when jack allegedly gets into a fight with another student. luckily for jack - definitely unluckily for the teacher, whose kid was the other participant in the fight - hangman pretty much kills the kid's weak argument that jack was the one who started the fight with a smile, and verbally eviscerates the teacher for not interfering when jack was being bullied, telling the principal that he wants jack transferred to another classroom. it also comes up during this showdown that the teacher told jack his natural hair isn't appropriate for the classroom; the teacher immediately tries to backtrack. hangman stares her down, smiling, smiling, smiling. are you calling my son a liar? by the end of this conversation, the teacher wishes she were dead, the kid receives two days of in-school suspension, and jack gets transferred to a different classroom. hangman takes jack out for ice cream afterwards. after dinner, jack brings all his toys to the living room and lets hangman play with him. hangman Absolutely Does Not Cry.

after the adoption goes through, jack asks coyote and hangman what he should call them, 'cause i can't call you javy and jake if you're my dads now and all. coyote says that's up to him. eventually jack decides that coyote is 'dad' and hangman is 'papa', and starts calling them that without thinking twice about it. coyote actually does cry the first time jack calls him 'dad'. if jack hadn't called hangman 'pop' in the sentence right before, hangman probably would have teased him about it. as it stands, he's too busy Absolutely Definitely Not Crying to do so.

things jack machado likes, including but not limited to: toy cars, the color blue, planes, playing soccer and basketball, pasta shaped like wheels, ice cream sandwiches, chapter books, the fuzzy pajama pants he got for christmas, and the teddy bear the bradshaws got him for his eighth birthday.

things jack machado does not like, including but not limited to: thunderstorms, sleeping without a night light, squirrels, orange-flavored anything, pizza with too many vegetables, and math of any kind. it turns out jack has dyscalculia, and hangman takes it upon himself to help jack with his math homework, to look up math games and coping strategies that can help him. sometimes both of them get frustrated and tears and yelling ensue - at which point coyote intervenes and makes them take a break - but for the most part, it's an arrangement that works all the way through elementary and middle school (and in high school before big tests).

to everyone's surprise, coyote turns out to be more of a PTA Dad™️ than hangman - at least when it comes to fundraising and the like. hangman can and will brag about his son constantly. (especially to rooster.)

jack calls rooster for advice on how to talk to girls when he gets his first crush. coyote and hangman, both of whom have dated women in the past, are somewhat offended that they were not the first ones asked. hangman especially so. (hangman gets his 'revenge' when nickie calls them asking for advice on how to talk to boys when she gets her first crush. technically nickie asks coyote for advice, but hangman is married to coyote, so he counts that as a win.)

when nickie (going by robin at this point, her nickname from hangman) is seventeen, her boyfriend dumps her two days before junior prom. jack, after getting permission from hangman and coyote (and phoenix and rooster), flies across the country so he can take her to prom instead. jack and robin start dating not long afterwards. somehow, even after years of their kids dancing around each other, rooster and hangman manage not to see this - or robin and jack's eventual marriage - coming.

#thanks for asking!#macheresin #hangman x coyote #hangman seresin #coyote machado #jack machado #nickie bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #phoenix trace #phoenix x rooster #fic: i don’t know what you’ve been told #ask me about bradley's feelings on fatherhood i am Willing To Spill #he's a very good dad to robin #(and mav is an excellent grandfather)#anyway i love hangman and coyote and jack So Much

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yostresswritinggirl · 4 years

Text

A String That Binds Him

Within his conscience and subconsciousness, he dangles with the karmic binds that tie him to his bloody deeds. They are black and tight that pulls at his soul towards the dark abyss of madness. Xiao hates those strings, and when another one manifests, he is more than scared.

Pairings -> Xiao x Reader

Word Count -> 1312

Themes -> I dunno either you tell me, short fic

Series -> #Sojourner Specials (600 Followers Event) Exiled's Xiao Manifestation Ritual

Warnings -> It's... not my best, I'm here to manifest

The first manifestation of the signs of a new string happened on the first encounter, when their eyes met his amber ones. Just another mortal lingering by the balcony, he thought to himself, just another mortal. Xiao knew of the human ways in which they desperately cling to divine blessings, to meet the Adepti for a miracle.

But his heart skipped in a painful way and like the wind he was gone within a second.

"Verr, who is that person in the balcony? They're dangerous, why are they allowed here?"

But the agent could only tilt her head at the intonation and he grew ever more frustrated at this mistake. Is the Qixing faulty to let a threat in so easily, more so in his territory? But Verr simply assured that they've done a background check beforehand, that they were no threat at all, just a simple citizen passing by.

But Xiao was restless, and when he looked again, the pain in his chest did not disappear.

Next thing was tantalizing fear enough to paralyze him.

Like a shadow that clings to his form no matter where so long as there is light, such entity lingers behind him unknowingly. When they spoke in which the first he has heard their voice, he froze with his back towards them. The most vulnerable he had been, and a rule he broke in war where one should not turn their back to the opponent.

When they called his name again, Xiao felt the familiar tug of agony before he willed himself to look with a seething glare worthy to vanquish all evil. But they withered under the gaze like a wolf wary of their injured paw when meeting strangers. A sign that they were a lesser being than him and yet the grip around his heart tightens tenfold.

"What are you doing here? Don't you know how dangerous it is around here?"

When they tilt their head to look past his shoulder, he was painfully aware of the massacre of hilichurls behind him, one he had recently vanquished.

"Seems to me that these dangers are taken care of already tho," they offered a smile which looped back down at the edges upon the look of distaste the adepti offered.

Xiao didn't wish to hang around longer than he should, but when they called out to him as he was about to leap off, his body locked again. Unceremoniously he tumbles down forward upon the inertia of his paralyzed leap.

And he knew from behind him that it took the mortal all their willpower not to mock him with the rawest laugh.

After those first two encounters were nothing but restless days of consciousness for the adepti where he longs for the night where such phenomenons would not exist, where he will be alone with his thoughts to ponder over without any other intrusion.

But even then he finds no solace in the voices in his head, even if they were only less painful than the ones he had been experiencing lately.

Their presence created a new binding that straps his soul and it tugs him at directions he cannot seem to predict. His karmic binds wrap around his limbs to fully pull him apart, yet this one wishes to tug him forward against the old binds, and the opposing forces brings him immense pain that gnaws at him 'til dawn.

The next instance of the bind's existence comes in the form of breathlessness. When their light touch found its way to his exposed bicep, the unexpected motion caused his lungs to stutter for a second, the need for air leaving him before he was slammed back by reality.

How he knew it was the mortal without even looking he did not know, as he was too busy scrambling away as if their touch was seering hot. Xiao's glare was unfocused as he willed himself manually to breath in and breath out.

"You were spacing out," he seems to be doing that lately, "I've been calling for you but you wouldn't budge." Did he really not hear them? "A-Are you okay, can you breath properly?"

No.

No, he doesn't know why he's having the trouble in the first place. The Yaksha lays himself vulnerable in front of them as his heart beats loudly and furiously at the loss of oxygen, it was a manifestation of one of the 'attacks' that shouldn't come this early unless provoked.

Before he knows it, they too invaded his being in the form of soft rubs to his back and whispers of increasing numbers. He follows suit in their guidance even with a few hiccups and soon enough his breathing stabilizes, his heart still trying to follow the calmness of it.

Did I scare you?

No.

I'm sorry.

There's no need to be.

The Yaksha's heart rested for a full second but the detail was missed when Xiao saw the pure pity in their eyes.

No, this person was no Adepti, no demon, no God, no other being. Only a mortal, a human with a soul that shall wither away too. The thought seemed to pull that stray string once again.

The third- or was it fourth? Counting didn't matter now that he was too far gone, but the next manifestation felt more worrying than the others as it was a sign he was not at all accustomed to. It made no sense, it was windy that day at the balcony and the sun barely peeked in past the horizon as it starts to sink for the cold night's entrance.

And they were there to obscure the sunlight that tries to reach him. Hovering over the railing that overlooks the marsh, his gaze caught their side profile as strands of hair falls from the fray, little rays passing through the curtain of the hair that frames their face.

It didn't make sense. No sense at all. And yet he was there to be another mess when he felt the burning sensation wash over his thinly clothed form.

There was nothing special about this human, no Vision exists to force such temperal reaction from him but it. still. happened.

And when they turned to look at him, Xiao dared look away pointedly as the trance of warmth messed more with his thoughts, the change in body temperature reaching his head in a faster pace. He is overheating and so he excuses himself as he disappears, the only sign of Xiao's whereabouts was the distant loud splash somewhere by the marsh.

The mortal choked at the image the plunge brought.

Finally one faithful day, Xiao confronted such merciless feelings to the only mortal he trusts the most. And he found Boss Verr grinning lightly, mischievously. Carrying behind it a secret he doesn't know.

"Dear Adepti, what you are feeling are what we humans call infatuation. Love sickness, even." He dons himself an apalled expression and it takes the woman all willpower not to crack up.

This heinous manifestations of agony are akin to that of human affection? Of romantic disease? If this is what humans deal with naturally, why do they commit themselves at such masochistic indulgences?

So warily he asked, how does one remove such emotions? If it were truly humane feelings that he harbours, then humane means can easily vanquish it unlike the binds holding him down. Speaking of, they've been very tame lately-

Under the guidance of Verr's simple advice of 'being honest with your feelings', Xiao diligently awaits for the mortal in the balcony. And when they finally showed up, he blurts out the worries he had to deal with since the moment they came to his life, loudly enough for a floor lower to hear his confession.

"You terrify me."

This was followed by the frantic steps of a sprinting Verr who desperately tries to make damage control.

A lil drabble hehe, first time trying third person pov bruuuuh

@kookieyachi @struggljng @bunniesrorange @anormalguyreader @moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @lehra @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @lilydewi22 @yellowflowre

#xiao x Reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #Exile.flower #Sojourner specials #gender neutral

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mediawhorefics · 4 years

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Hi!

I recently reread tts and I'm so so in awe of the story, the plot, the storytelling, all of it. I don't know if this ever came up before, or if you talked about it but how come you wrote it from Louis' point of view? Was it just the natural way it worked out or was it a conscious decision? Because both sides could be just as compelling. I guess I just found myself wondering a lot of the times if Harry was just as insecure about the relationship as Louis was at times.

Also I just want to add as another non native english speaker I completely understand why you don't want your work translated. I've seen and read so many translated things that were done by professionals but were still done terribly. I know you probably don't need validation about this but I still felt the need to add this.

hiya!!

i gotta say this question got me stumped a little because i don’t think it was ever a big debate? like... it was always going to be from louis’ pov? i never really questioned it even from the very first drabble/summary i initially wrote before deciding to commit to writing the full story. so i feel like there was never a list of reasons as to why i made the decision since it didn't feel like an actual decision. it was more of an obvious choice. it felt very natural to me that it would be told from louis’ point of view.

but now that i think about it, i do think that there are a few reasons as to why that felt the most natural to me at the time.

i’ve always been hesitant re: writing about substance abuse. i think it’s something that needs to be treated with a lot of care and respect. while i don’t have a ton of personal experience with it, the experiences i do have are more on louis’ side of the equation so i think part of me felt naturally inclined towards his point of view supporting someone who is struggling with that rather than writing that actual struggle that i haven’t experienced myself. (i don’t drink at all and i never have so....)

this is a bit sillier, but i have a tendency to go back and forth between harry and louis’ pov when i’m writing long fics (often for the big bangs). it’s not on purpose or anything, but i think i like varying for my own interest and i naturally craft a long story for louis’ pov after i’ve written one in harry’s? my first hl big bang was ctc in louis’ pov, then i wrote tec in harry’s pov. i took a big bang break the year after but my next long story was tts in louis’ pov and now my last big bang was in hary’s. it’s just something that happens naturally for me i think. i like getting to play in both of their heads so i suppose i plan my next stories with that in mind? even if it’s often subconsciously so yeah, i guess it was his turn?

on a personal level, i wrote louis as a man who fell in love with his scottish isle and who loved living there and felt so at home there while i was someone who fell in love with scotland and was currently living there and loving living there and feeling so at home there.... in many ways tts is incredibly personal and while it didn’t start as my love letter to scotland, it absolutely became that. in that sense it just COULDN’T have been from harry’s pov. because while he’s in the process of falling in love with both a person and a place in the story, i was very much someone already in love with a place. and that’s the feeling i had inside of me that needed a creative outlet, yk?

i also found the idea of the mysterious stranger coming to the island and nobody really knowing anything about him very compelling which just... doesn’t really work if written from said mysterious stranger’s pov. i wanted the fic to be really intimate and to have that feeling of slowly unveiling a character and peeling back his layers... harry is very guarded in the story for many reasons and that feeling of discovering him as the relationship between hl develops only works if the reader slowly earns harry’s feelings & thoughts & inner life & trust the same way that louis does. it just doesn’t work at all in the reverse for me. mostly because louis is much more open as a character in that specific story. not to mention, i think so much of the story is about how romantic love is not necessary for a happy life but when it happens to you, it’s worth choosing it. despite the obstacles. so harry has to go away and we have to no know at all where he’s at for that choice that he makes at the end to be as powerful as it is. or like, that’s what i tried to do at least. there’s a whole other story in harry’s pov about him rebuilding himself and rebuilding his career the way he wants. and it would be a compelling story for sure. but it wasn’t the story i wanted to tell, yk?

as for your question about harry’s insecurities re: their relationship.... interestingly, i feel like their insecurities are very similar in that it’s not necessarily in the feelings that they share and in how special and precious their bond is but more the external factors surrounding their relationship? louis knows how hard harry is fighting to go back to a career that he loves and he doesn’t think that it can include him. louis doesn’t see himself ever leaving fair isle and he doesn’t know how harry could possibly stay so he sees himself as a pit stop in the journey of harry’s life. it’s interesting because there’s two sides of him at war ? on one hand, he knows and feels that he’s special to harry and that their relationship is meaningful. but on the other hand, there’s that voice inside his head telling him it’s not special or meaningful enough.

and harry is in a similar boat. he also knows that their relationship is special, once in a lifetime kind of stuff. he knows he’s met someone with whom he has a really important connection and someone who is strong and a huge support for him, which is something he needs. but, he’s just started to recover from a lifestyle that took almost everything from him. and he is struggling and fighting to keep the art and the music and the love of it. but he knows the dangers and the toxicity and the sacrifices it can require. so while he sees that the relationship is special, and that he’s important to louis, there’s a part of him who thinks it’s not worth the sacrifices that louis would have to make. the potential loss of privacy, the fact that he has to be away a lot, sharing him with the world, the stressors, the triggers, the potential relapses, etc etc.

i think part of it is a self-esteem issue for both of them. louis with his ‘my life is not special/exciting enough for him’ vs harry’s ‘my life is too weird/abnormal/difficult for him’.

this could so easily be fixed with a nice honest conversation about their expectations and desires !!!! which ofc they end up having when harry puts himself out there and says ‘is there space for me?’

hope that answers your question <333

and thank you for your support re: translations. sometimes the way people talk about it makes me feel like the bad guy and like i always have to justify myself so it’s nice to know there are people who agree with me xx

#about me #lighthouse au #tts ramblings #marie talks writing #Anonymous

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reyescarlos · 4 years

Text

all through the night || a tarlos fic

❄️ @911giftexchange fic for @buckieys ❄️

happy holidays, sy! i'm wishing you a wonderful and prosperous new year. i hope this fic helps to usher in 2021 right!

word count: 5.2k || read on ao3

All through the night I'll be awake and I'll be with you All through the night This precious time when time is new

When Carlos envisioned winter in New York, his elaborate fantasies had somehow managed to eclipse the reality of what it might actually entail. He had enjoyed his brief stay, taking in the window displays along Fifth Avenue. It had long since been something he wanted to see for himself and the storefronts had more than delivered. But on the flipside of such a picturesque scene has come the downside of what heavy amounts of snow could mean.

It’s why he finds himself now planted in a too hard seat at JFK Airport, wondering how he’ll possibly fill his time now that his flight has been delayed until morning. Outside the blizzard rages on with no real end in sight and Carlos mulls over the merits of his decision to leave Texas in the New Year and make this city his home. This is a far cry from Austin. He’d once thought winter temperatures there could be bad but it’s been nothing compared to the arctic blast in the North.

He tries to keep busy with a book but his attention is split between the words before him and the cute guy across from him frantically digging inside his backpack, a phone teetering dangerously on his knee.

“God, where is that stupid thing,” the man mumbles to himself. “Come on charger, where are you?”

Carlos looks away, burying his head in his book to hide the smile that breaks out on his face. The guy is obviously peeved but Carlos can’t help but to find his muttering endearing. After another moment of fruitless searching on the stranger’s end, Carlos takes mercy on him.

“Here, you can borrow mine,” he says, unzipping his own backpack and fishing out his charger.

The man sighs in relief. “Thank you. I really appreciate it,” he replies, reaching over and taking the cord from Carlos.

He settles back and plugs it into the wall, the screen lighting up a moment later. Carlos smiles politely and gets back to reading, only to be interrupted.

“So, I take it you’re heading down to visit family before the new year comes, huh?” the stranger says.

Carlos looks up from his book, head tilting slightly. It hadn’t been expecting the man to strike up a conversation.

“Sorry, awkward small talk. I’ll let you get back to it,” he says, face scrunching as he gestures to the book in Carlos’ hands.

Carlos waves him off, bookmarking his page and closing it.

“No worries. We’re here all night so...plenty of time for that.” He licks his lips and drums his fingers against the front. “To answer your question though, no. Austin is actually my home so I’m just heading back.”

“Oh, cool. I’m going to see my dad. I thought he’d want to do the whole white Christmas, New York for the New Year thing but ever since he moved down to Austin last year, I think he’s gotten spoiled by the warmer weather.”

The man looks out of the window where the snow is swirling so heavily it’s hard to even see the sky or planes sitting idly on the tarmac.

“Guess I can’t exactly blame him.”

Carlos laughs. “It’s disgustingly cold here and all of that,” he says, gesturing to the storm, “doesn’t help. I don’t know how you guys manage.”

“You get used to it. I’ve only ever grown up with it so while I like to complain about the snow at times, I can’t picture this time of year without it. It’s been a few years since it’s been this bad though, I’ll admit.”

Carlos smiles a bit, looking out of the window briefly. “This is actually my first time experiencing snow. And the city was gracious enough to give me a blizzard to commemorate.”

The man smiles at this thoughtfully. He sits up, stretching his hand out across the aisle towards Carlos.

“I’m TK, by the way.”

Carlos touches his fingertips to his forehead before shaking TK’s hand.

“God, my mother would be so ashamed of my manners right now,” he laughs. “I’m Carlos. It’s nice to meet you.”

He lets go, his palm feeling extremely warm from TK’s touch. TK smiles at him, a slow grin that ultimately reveals his teeth. This man is very good looking, there’s no denying that. He’s got an easy way about him that makes Carlos feel comfortable in his presence as if they’re old friends catching up and not perfectly good strangers meeting for the first time.

TK’s phone buzzes, stealing his attention and Carlos is all too grateful for it. TK types something on the device for a few seconds before pausing.

“Sorry, excuse me for a second,” he says, putting his phone to his ear.

Carlos nods and gestures for him to go for it.

“Hey, Dad. I—,” TK starts out but stops short as his father speaks. “I bet it’s all over the news but I’m alright. Not looking forward to being stuck here overnight but,” he continues, his eyes landing on Carlos and away so quickly Carlos is sure he’s imagined it. “I guess there are worse ways to be trapped for a few hours.”

Carlos looks away then, cracking open his book again to keep himself occupied while TK chats with his father. He tries not to dwell heavily on TK’s look or what the implications of that glance could mean. It could’ve been a coincidence and nothing more. All the same, it doesn’t make his heart race any less to think that TK feels a spark too.

TK ends the call with a sigh, stretching out his legs before bouncing one of them. The gesture is distracting but endearing. For the second time, Carlos closes his book, this time putting it back into his bag for good as TK speaks to him again.

“Are you hungry? I could go for a bite.”

“I could eat,” Carlos says. He rises from his seat as TK does, both men dragging their carry-ons along with them.

They follow the winding path down from their gate, Carlos taking notice of all the fellow flyers now forced to wait out the storm. Some have taken to stretching out on the ground, laying on top of jackets like makeshift sleeping bags, others keeping busy with phones and tablets, hunched over in chairs.

Carlos isn’t looking forward to the uncomfortable sleep he’ll have tonight but as he looks over at TK, he wonders just how much rest he’ll actually manage to get. The guy is already proving himself to be a good way to pass the time and Carlos can’t say he wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to keep chatting with him.

As they approach the cluster of food stands, TK groans and it’s easy to see why. Many of the shops are already closed, no doubt the employees hurrying home before the worst of the storm kicked in. All that’s available now is Cinnabon but Carlos supposes that can suffice as dinner.

TK orders a hot chocolate and a classic roll while Carlos opts for a cold brew in addition to a roll as well. TK eyes the drink with raised brows.

“I’m fully committing to the cause of being awake until we board, apparently,” Carlos muses, pushing his straw through the lid and taking a sip. “Worth it.”

The two head to a nearby empty table, settling into their elevated seats before unloading their food. The scent coming off the baked goods is incredible and Carlos’ stomach suddenly feels desperate for a bite.

“So, Carlos, since we’ve nominated each other for the buddy system while we wait this storm out,” he jokes, “Why don’t you tell me more about yourself?”

Carlos drums his fingers on the tabletop as he tries to decide what to share.

“Well, you already know that Austin is where I’m from but the whole reason I’m even here now is because I’m going to be moving to New York soon. I’ll be transferring next month.”

TK’s brows raise. “Seriously? That’s awesome. Do you mind if I ask what you do?”

“I’m a police officer. I’ve been with the Austin Police Department for a few years but I’ve been considering leaving Texas for a little while now and I’ve been exploring my options. For some reason my mind kept coming back to the idea of New York and I figured I should just take the chance and see what happens.”

TK laughs and shakes his head. “Oh man, well, we have something in common, more or less. I’m with the NYFD myself.”

Carlos holds up a hand. “Wait, wait, wait. You’re a firefighter?” he laughs.

TK puffs out his chest jokingly and nods with a grin on his face. “That’s right. Ladder 252.”

Carlos does his best to push the image of TK in uniform from mind but the picture is an appealing one. He can see it so clearly, the way he’d look in suspenders, not to mention full gear. It’s almost unfair just how much hotter the man becomes as if Carlos hasn’t spent this whole time finding him attractive. He picks up his drink again for something to do with his hands, swirling the straw inside of the cup.

“Small world. Outside of my own little bubble, I can’t say I casually meet many people who are first responders. We seem to be a pretty special breed to get into this line of work.”

TK laughs. “I fell into this because of my dad. He’s been a firefighter for years. He, uh, actually was on site during 9/11. I always thought he was incredible but knowing the full scope of what he and so many others did that day and for people in times of crisis, big and small in general, it just made me want to be like him.”

Carlos frowns, unsure of what to even say or think. “Your dad’s a hero.”

“I like to think so.” TK draws in a breath, squaring his shoulders. “Anyway, now he’s kicking ass down in Texas so, even though I miss him as my captain, I know he’s doing great work with his crew down there.”

Curiosity gets the better of Carlos as he asks, “What station is he with?”

“The 126,” TK replies, taking a sip of his hot chocolate.

Carlos’ eyes widen. “Captain Owen Strand is your father?”

It makes sense the longer he looks at TK. Captain Strand is an attractive older guy and TK clearly got handed some solid genes. Still, it throws him for a loop to realize they have a legitimate connection to each other.

TK tilts his head to the side. “You know him? Shit, okay, wow, small world just got a whole hell of a lot smaller.”

“Unbelievable,” Carlos laughs in disbelief. “I don’t know him that well but we work together sometimes on calls. He’s amazing in the field and he’s really turned that station around.”

TK practically beams. “Guess this means we’ll be seeing each other again soon once we finally make it to Austin then.”

“Uh, yeah. I guess so. Assuming you don’t get sick of me before this night is through, that is.”

TK holds Carlos’ gaze for a moment and if it were anyone else, it would be unnerving but something in TK’s stare just sends a thrill through Carlos, excites him in a way no stranger has ever really gotten under his skin.

“I don’t see that happening,” he says plainly, as if this is an irrefutable fact and not something that’s truly subject to change.

Carlos doesn’t argue the point. He merely enjoys the next few hours, seeing just how easily TK’s theory pans out.

~*~*~

The contrast in weather between New York and Austin is one of the first things Carlos’ remarks on as he steps outside of Austin-Bergstrom. He’s never been more grateful for a forty degree afternoon. He’s kept Michelle updated about his new set time and he waits patiently outside of arrivals. Beside him now, TK types out a message on his phone before smiling over at him.

Carlos has had hours to get used to that look on TK’s face and yet he’s still brought up short. Last night and the early morning hours were spent talking to TK about everything imaginable, trading stories about crazy calls they’ve been on and even touching on personal things like their families. When they grew tired of talking, they watched movies on TK’s laptop, fighting off the urge to sleep for the mere sake of hanging out.

It isn’t rare for Carlos to become friendly with a person but this connection to TK feels different in a way he can’t quite parse.

By the time their flight boarded, Carlos knocked out for the entire length of the trip but it had been worth it in his eyes to stay up and take advantage of the uninterrupted time that stretched before him with TK. It was safe to say a bit of a crush had formed, as absurd as Carlos felt for it. TK was going to be in town for the next few days and that prospect was both thrilling and terrifying. If he could feel this close to TK in one night, there’s no telling what could happen in a few days.

Before he can get lost in that thought, Carlos sees Michelle as she pulls up to the curb, the trunk popping open.

“Are you good out here?”

“My dad’s coming in just a minute. I’ll be just fine,” TK muses as Carlos puts his carry-on inside and slams the trunk shut.

“Alright, well. You have my number now so text me whenever you’re free. I’ll show you a few places while you’re here.”

Carlos extends his hand but TK rolls his eyes jokingly and pulls him into a half hug instead.

“We’ve spent the night together, Carlos. I think we’re past handshakes now.”

Carlos’ face burns with TK’s wording but the man merely laughs.

“See you soon?”

Carlos just nods and finds the wherewithal to get inside of Michelle’s car. He waves after he buckles himself in, TK lifting a hand in response.

“Okay, who is that?” Michelle asks immediately, head turned to take in the sight of TK.

Carlos tips his head back against the seat. “You won’t believe the night I’ve had.”

~*~*~

Carlos has spent two days showing TK some of his favorite stomping grounds. TK relished in all that Austin had to offer and Carlos has been happy to see that their closeness from the unexpected overnight at the airport hadn’t been a fluke. If anything, these outings have only made Carlos feel closer to TK.

Michelle has been relentless in her teasing, finding it all too amusing that Carlos managed to cross paths with Captain Strand’s son of all people. She’d clung to his every word during the ride home from the airport as he filled her in on how he waited out the storm.

The 126 meets at their usual bar and Carlos is glad for this post-work gathering. It’s the perfect time to show TK what a real honky-tonk is like, further immersing him in the culture of the state his father now resides.

TK sits next to him at the table, the large group so packed in that his leg presses against Carlos’. It’s light but it’s enough to make the point of contact all Carlos can focus on even as everyone else at the table engages in conversations that overlap, laughing amongst themselves. He does his best to ignore it but it’s difficult not to take notice of each shift TK makes. Michelle keeps looking at him and Carlos, to the best of his abilities, avoids her gaze knowing that it’ll make it just that much more difficult to act as if he isn’t freaking out internally.

“I’m gonna get another. You want anything?” Carlos asks TK.

TK shakes his head. “No, I’m alright but thank you though.”

Carlos nods once and gets up, finding it much easier to breathe already now that he’s no longer sitting beside TK. Michelle catches his eye as he leaves from the table and he can hear her shoes as she follows behind him to the bar. She rests against the counter facing the room at large as Carlos gets the attention of the bartender and asks for another beer.

“You sure know how to pick them,” Michelle laughs at his side.

“Chelle,” he groans, shaking his head.

She merely laughs again, bumping her hip against his. “When did your life become a romantic comedy?”

“I must’ve missed the memo myself because this sure snuck up on me.”

The bartender sets a bottle down in front of him but Carlos doesn’t move. This little reprieve away from everyone but Michelle right now is welcome.

“I like him. He’s nice. Really cute too.”

“Oh, so you’ve noticed?” he deadpans, looking over his shoulder at TK.

He looks so at home here, hanging out and laughing with these people he’s, up until now, only known secondhand from his father’s work stories. TK is personable as ever, Carlos knows all too well. Had he not been swept away after one night in the man’s company?

“I think this is so great.”

“Funny, I think it’s the universe trying to mess with me.”

Michelle scoffs, finally turning to face the bar like him. “There are worse things in the world than a seemingly perfect guy practically falling into your lap. We should all be so lucky.”

Carlos casts the mental image aside, taking a sip of his drink. “The timing though. I can’t think about guys right now. I need to be figuring out my next set of moves for New York.”

“If those plans just so happen to include an attractive new friend…,” she trails off with a grin.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to screw this up because yeah, he is a new friend and we get along well, it’s a good feeling.”

“Do you like him?”

Carlos falters. “I barely even know the guy.”

“That’s not even remotely close to what I asked you.”

Carlos scratches at his forehead before letting out a sigh. “I do. Which hardly makes any sense at all. It’s only been a few days and yet I can’t stop thinking about him. That’s strange, isn’t it?”

Michelle shakes her head. “No, actually. I don’t think so. You guys had such a cute introduction to each other and you clearly hit it off. Some people just click and are meant to meet. The fact that you two had a connection to each other beforehand without even knowing it? I think there’s something to be said for that.”

“What, you think it’s fate or something?”

Michelle shrugs. “I wouldn’t rule it out. Your flight could have been a day earlier or even a few hours before his. On a plane filled with hundreds, you connected with him, Captain Strand’s son who just so happens to live in the city you’re about to move to. I think it’s worth seeing just how far it could go. If you ask me, you’ll wind up with a boyfriend in no time.”

Carlos mulls it over for a moment. He can admit he is in fact curious. It’s been a while since he’s felt this drawn to someone and with TK, it’s been as natural as breathing since they first met. The timing is less than ideal but it’s been so long since Carlos has felt this urge to get close to someone, since he’s felt safe enough to even open his mind and heart up to the possibility.

“Maybe you’re onto something.”

“One of these days you’ll learn to just accept my brilliance, no questions asked. But this will do for now.”

Carlos rolls his eyes but drapes an arm over her shoulder, pulling her into his side and kissing her temple.

“I’m going moments like this with you,” he says.

Michelle sighs and pats his back. “I will too but we still have time on the clock, right? Let’s not think about that now.”

Carlos sighs, knowing she’s right. It just feels as if these moments are slipping through his fingers, the new year and all its changes lurking just around the corner.

~*~*~

As customary, the Ryder house is the staple for parties among the team and New Year’s Eve is no different. Carlos has lost track of how many times he’s sat on their couch or been treated for Grace’s incredible home-cooking. It’s always been a source of comfort for him, being surrounded by these colleagues who have become an extended family to him.

This time next year, he’ll be in another time zone, familiarized with a new group of people. Carlos knows he’s jumping the gun. There’s no doubt in his mind that he’ll be able to visit back home and that this collection of people will still love him as they do now.

Carlos looks around the living room, taking stock: Marjan blowing into a noise maker in Mateo’s face and bursting into laughter, Paul shaking his head and dropping his face into his palm. Over by the kitchen he sees Grace and Judd swaying to the music playing as Captain Strand takes Michelle’s hand and begins dancing alongside the other couple. It warms Carlos’ heart and breaks it too, seeing this all for what will be the last time with this city being home.

Suddenly the room feels too small and he finds himself heading for the door, grabbing his jacket off of the coat rack. It’s cold out but Carlos remembers just how bitter the weather in New York was. This is nothing compared to that. And it’s this thought that twists at his heart a bit more, one more reminder of how much his life is set to change sooner than he thinks he’s ready for.

The new year is biting at his heels and time is just slipping by. Logically he knows that he shouldn’t be outside now, that he would be wise to savor these memories with his Austin crew while they’re here rather than lament later. But it all feels like too much and the last thing he wants is to let his pensive mood be a dark cloud over a celebratory and joyous time.

Carlos keeps walking until he reaches the park nearby the Ryder household. Naturally it’s abandoned as everyone is tucked away inside their homes either enjoying a quiet night in or throwing parties like the Ryders. Carlos draws in a breath and takes a seat on one of the swings, his fingers clutching on to the links. He quickly stands up the second he hears footsteps approaching, a figure walking towards him.

“It’s just me,” comes TK’s voice and sure enough the man’s features come into focus the closer he gets until he’s settling into the swing beside Carlos.

“I saw you take off. I just wanted to check that you were okay.”

Carlos smiles a bit. “I appreciate it. I’m okay. I’m just...thinking about a lot right now.”

TK sways on his swing, letting a comfortable silence fall between them before he speaks.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Carlos’ heart and thoughts feel so heavy now, such a contrast to how lighthearted and hopeful this holiday is meant to be. But TK looks at him with such genuine care that he finds himself almost desperate to unburden himself a bit.

“Sometimes I wish I could just stop time, you know? But hell, it’s New Year’s Eve. What more proof do I need that life is always moving forward?”

Carlos sighs and rocks slightly back and forth.

“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be a downer. You should head on back inside, have fun with the others.”

TK is silent beside him, long enough for Carlos to pull his gaze toward the other man. TK is eyeing him thoughtfully.

“You’re scared about what comes next. That’s totally normal. Moving away, starting a new life somewhere else, it’s a big step. A huge change.”

Carlos frowns as he nods. “I wish I could see the end, you know? I wish I could see if it’s all worth it, that I’m making the right choice.”

TK hums in thought. “Well, the best way out is through, right?”

“So you don’t think it’s a mistake to move out to New York?”

TK shrugs. “I don’t know you well enough to say one way or the other for sure. But no, I don’t think it is. I think the fact that you’re even considering it at all should tell you something about how you feel about where you are now.”

Carlos grows quiet, considering the man’s words. But TK isn’t done dishing out his opinion.

“You’ve got an amazing team here, there’s no denying that. It’s a real family, not to mention your actual family is here too. But—and mind you I’m super biased here— New York is an amazing place to be, to live. If you’re feeling restless in Austin, I think New York is the perfect alternative.”

Carlos laughs at this. “So, so biased,” he muses.

TK jokingly puffs up his chest. “Hey, it’s not my fault people have written songs about it and flock to it from all corners of the world,” he jokes. “And all of them, like you would, find home.”

A soft sigh escapes Carlos’ lips as he grips the chain link of the swing.

“That does actually sound pretty nice. I’d miss everyone here like crazy but maybe it’s time for something new? I don’t know. I keep waiting for something extraordinary to happen but nothing ever really changes around here. And there’s nothing wrong with that, of course. I just—“

“You’ve outgrown it,” TK says simply. “And there’s nothing wrong with that either.”

Carlos smiles at him and nods. “I suppose not, no.”

“At least you’ll come to the city knowing someone; you won’t be alone or completely starting from scratch.”

“You? You would take that on?”

TK rolls his eyes. “Of course me. You think I’d leave you high and dry? Damn, I know New Yorkers have a bit of a rep but jeez,” he teases.

Carlos laughs. “I only meant...you barely even know me. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Maybe so but I’d like to get to know you better. And if we’re gonna be calling the same city home, it’s kind of perfect. You get a new job, a new city, a new friend. Pretty sweet package, if you ask me.”

“You’ll be my tour guide then? You can take me to all the hot spots, Central Park and Times Square for starters.”

TK shakes his head in dismay. “God, Times Square,” he groans. “Hell on earth but sure, just for you I’d make the exception.”

“I’m honored,” Carlos says, placing a hand over his heart.

“As you should be. There aren’t many reasons I’d willingly go there so you should be patting yourself on the back right now.”

Carlos raises a brow. “But you’re thinking I’d be worth it?”

TK’s face grows serious. “In a lot of ways I’m thinking you would be, yes.”

Carlos' face flushes a bit and he looks away, down at his feet as he begins to kick out in earnest to start swinging.

Not for the first time since meeting TK he isn’t sure if there’s more to his words just below the surface, if he’s flirting or just being naturally charismatic. It shouldn’t matter either way, Carlos tells himself. Starting up a new relationship when so much in his life is already about to change doesn’t seem smart.

And yet it’s difficult to bear that in mind when he looks over and sees that TK is still watching him. The man smiles softly and follows Carlos' lead, swinging a bit.

In the distance Carlos can hear the rise in voices from houses where everyone is celebrating, just waiting to usher in the new year.

“One minute to go,” TK says, looking at the time on his watch and digging his feet into the ground to stop himself.

Carlos keeps going, breathing in the last dregs of this year before it’s gone with the tick of the clock. He looks up at the pinpricks of stars above, almost glistening in the clear sky. He closes his eyes, soaks in the moment, the last few seconds of this year winding down.

The New Years party goers can be heard shouting their countdown and beside him, TK joins in quietly as well.

Carlos opens his eyes once more and holds his breath as he upward, counting down the last few seconds in his head. This year is going, going...

Gone.

He exhales as shouts from the neighboring houses rent the air. He stops swinging then, digging his feet into the hard earth beneath him as he looks over at TK. Beside him the man’s face is flushed, the tip of his nose pink from the cold but his gaze is unrelenting as he leans forward.

Carlos’ body seems to move on its own accord, closing the distance between them as well. He doesn’t think about anything other than what TK’s lips will feel like and before he realizes it, he’s getting his answer.

It’s a chaste kiss, truly just a meeting of mouths in a gentle press but it warms Carlos from the center all the way through his entire body. TK’s lips are soft and warm despite the cold.

“Happy New Year, Carlos,” TK says softly.

Carlos doesn’t have the slightest clue of what the road ahead will look like exactly but it’s enough to know that in some capacity, TK is going to be a part of it. Be it as a friend or something more, it makes Carlos hopeful to see how life will unfold, what other surprises it may have in store.

Carlos stares at him for a moment and it seems as if TK and the whole world is holding its breath as they sit in silence together. This feeling in his chest is so unlike anything Carlos has experienced before. He likes to think things through, to anticipate at least three steps ahead but his future is such a blank slate that it’s truly anyone’s guess as to what will happen next. All he can do is control this present moment and as Carlos sees it, kissing TK is the only thing on his agenda for right now.

He leans in again and kisses the man once more, deeply this time, hand cradling the back of TK’s neck.

Maybe this is risky, maybe this will only complicate his life further when he settles in New York and has to figure out what this all means. But in this moment, that all feels like a lifetime away, a page from a chapter that hasn’t been written yet. There’s only the here and now with this beautiful man that fills him with possibilities.

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jimkirkachu · 3 years

Note

oh?? Turnabout Intruder fic? Tell us about it? :)

(another lengthy reply, because apparently I can't help myself 🙈)

Okay so... I have several Word docs that are just random k/s fic ideas I jot down whenever they come to me, right? Outlines, messy one-line scrawled ideas, half-stories that I don't know how to start or finish or fit together in the middle, little blurbs/paragraphs of actually edited stuff (but they're, you know, just individual paragraphs or lines of dialogue, lol). But my main document eventually got so long that doing a [ctrl + S] save on it took about 90 seconds?? 😂🤪 which of course made me impatient... and paranoid about losing my work. Thus I decided to put my various ideas/starts of fics in separate docs by category, like... I have a doc of story pieces or concepts that all have to do with Spock's family, a doc for random hurt/comfort ideas, a doc for possible wedding/honeymoon things, etc.

Anyway, one of these docs has all the different after-the-credits / episode tag / missing scene ideas I've had, and--guess what 😅--eventually THAT document got too long for me to handle keeping it all in one place 😅😆 [send help!! 😂😂😂] so I moved some of the longer things I'd spent a little more time developing into their own individual docs. I've put the most time and thought into an after-the-credits fic attempting to fix all the myriad things I hate about "Wink of an Eye" (possibly my Least favorite TOS episode)... but that's neither here nor there. 🙃

My vague outline for an after-the-credits scene of "Turnabout Intruder" is... mostly just... smut... LOL!! 😆 It starts in the turbolift with Kirk, Spock, and Scott (the last shot of the episode is the three of them getting on the lift), and Scotty gets out on the engineering level, leaving the Husbands alone together at last. There's a wee bit of romance there in the lift as they get to their deck, 😉 and then once they're in Kirk's quarters they sort of, um... get half-nakey... and have some massage time... based on the brig scene where Kirk is still in Lester's body and Spock tenderly caresses his neck and Kirk-as-Lester closes his eyes in bliss. 👀😍 Spock picks up where he had to leave off earlier, gently rubbing Kirk's neck, and they discuss the strangeness of body-swapping, the relief Kirk felt when he got Spock to meld with him and realize what was going on, and so forth. Soon enough they're just exchanging touches and sweet nothings, getting each other all worked up, and stripping down to full-nakey for a little "thank God you're okay"/"thank God you were on my side, convinced Bones and Scotty who I was, and helped rescue me" lovemaking. 🙈💞💛💙

Unfortunately thus far it's not actually a fix-it of the terrible gender-related atrocities committed by the episode's script... I do have them discussing some of the differences Kirk has now experienced between his usual body and Lester's, but mostly it's just a PWP (for now, anyway). Perhaps if I get to really working on it again, I'll try to do some ret-con damage control on the canon material, because I truly do *not* buy any of the crew (James Totally-drunk-on-his-daily-Respect-All-Sentient-Beings-Juice™ Kirk least of all) being so misogynistic and gender-binary-deluded the way the script makes them all seem. We'll see what happens, aka if I ever go back to editing and fleshing out this fic for actual posting! 😅

Here's a teeny weeny excerpt:

"I will say, though," Kirk went on, "that I won't miss how much taller you were than me. I can handle the few centimeters' difference between us in these bodies..." Relaxing back against that firm chest, he pulled Spock's arms and hands away from exploring his legs and guided them to rest on his midsection in a loose hug. "I just love it so much when you look down at me with your sparkling 'I'm going to kiss you' eyes," he said dreamily, stroking Spock's arm hair, "or when we dance or cuddle and I can rest my cheek on your shoulder so easily."

Smiling fondly, Spock tightened his embrace and nuzzled his husband's neck again.

"But in Janice's body," Kirk said, "I was, what? At least a full head shorter than you. I missed this--" Here, he squeezed on Spock's arms and gave a happy sigh crossed with a contented hum. "--the feeling of your heartbeat against my hip, the closeness of your breath at my ear. I'm too accustomed to the sweet little kisses you leave on my neck from our normal heights, I suppose."

Spock chuckled; he had been nipping, licking, and kissing Kirk's neck and shoulders the entire time he'd been speaking.

Uhh... yeah, so, it's mostly just fluffy and naughty stuff like that! 🙈☺ Thanks so much for the ask!! And sorry it took me so long to answer!!! 💜💛💙

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destihellhound · 4 years

Text

We Write Our Own Destiny

Canon-divergent ending to 15x19, ignoring 15x20. Also on AO3 | ff

Tagging @destielintheimpala because she’s my best friend and @ineffable-cas because I remember seeing them asking to be tagged in any fix-it fics.

"I won't be hands on," Jack told them. "Chuck put himself in the story - that was his mistake. But I learned from you and my mother and Castiel that when people have to be their best, they can be. And that's what to believe in. Well... I'm really as close as this," he said, placing a hand over his heart. Then he raised his hand in a stationary, dorky wave. "Goodbye."

"Wait!" Dean said, as Jack turned to walk away. "What about Cas? Chuck pulled Lucifer out of the Empty, you can save Cas!"

Jack raised his hands, palms outwards. "I'm hands-off, Dean."

"But it's Cas," Dean growled, taking a threatening step forwards. "We can't get to him there, and it's not like the Empty is just going to give him back if we ask nicely." When Jack didn't seem at all inclined to change his mind, he tried a different approach. "You owe me."

"Uh, Dean?" Sam said hesitantly. "Maybe not a good idea to piss off the new... Him."

"It's Jack, Sam," Dean said, glancing over his shoulder. "The kid who killed our mother." He turned on Jack. "You said you wanted to make it up to me? This is how you do that!"

"Dean, I—" Jack's eyes glazed over for a second as his attention seemed to be focused elsewhere. "She really does have a soft spot for you Dean," Jack told him before disappearing in a burst of divine light.

Dean stared at the space where Jack had stood, just a moment before. What the hell did that mean? Had Amara persuaded Jack to change his mind, or was he still against interfering?

"Hello, Dean."

Dean froze at the familiar voice, almost afraid to turn around. The last time he'd heard Castiel's voice, it had been Lucifer. He swallowed around the lump that had formed in his throat. What if it was just another trick?

"Hello, Sam."

"Hey, Cas," Sam said warmly, and his brother's voice was enough to have Dean turning.

Cas was smiling at Sam, though still visibly confused as to why he was back on Earth. When he turned to Dean, however, his smile faltered.

Dean wished he could say something, anything, to wipe that insecurity off Castiel's face because the angel was back where he belonged. He was always better with actions than words, however, so he strode up to Cas and wrapped his arms around him, hands clenching in that god-awful trench coat.

"Dean," Castiel began, unsurely.

"Later, Cas," Dean murmured in his ear. "Let's go home."

Dean felt like a great weight had been lifted from him as the angel hugged him back; a weight he hadn't even realised had been dragging him down.

"I'll make burgers. You love burgers."

"Everything tastes like molecules to me."

"Not the point," Dean said, leading them back to the car. "You are a part of this family, Cas - don't ever forget it."

"Hey, Dean?" Sam asked, a sudden thought striking him. "Do you think Adam... Michael was destroyed, but do you think Jack brought Adam back?"

"I hope so," Dean said. "That kid deserves to catch a break. We'll reach out, make sure everyone we know is back, and put out the word that we're looking for him."

"Okay."

As they got nearer the Impala, Dean saw Miracle sitting patiently beside the rear door.

"Oh, hell no..."

"Do you think he's got an owner around here?" Sam asked, looking around.

"We're not keeping the dog, Sam."

"You've changed your tune."

"That was different, okay?" He'd just lost Cas. "It was supposed to just be us, and then there was this little miracle and—"

Miracle barked, as if recognising his name.

Dean sighed. Looked at Sam. Ignored his brother's puppy-dog eyes. Looked at Cas. Took in the angel's hangdog expression.

"Oh, for..." He trailed off in defeat. "I am not feeding him. I am not walking him. And I am not vacuuming the hair out of Baby! That's your job," Dean told Sam. "And if you don't keep her clean, I will shoot you, and then I'll shoot Mir— the dog!" He turned to Miracle. "And you are not riding shotgun!" He got in the car and slammed the door.

"Do you want to ride up front?" Sam asked Cas, failing to hide his amusement at Dean's feigned dislike of their adopted four-legged friend.

The angel responded by getting in the backseat with the dog.

As they began the long drive back to the bunker, Sam texted Eileen. His relief at getting a response was nothing compared to the relief and joy that wiped years off his face when she answered his video call and he saw her face.

His relief echoed the feeling flooding through Dean for getting Cas back, and he glanced at the angel in his rearview mirror.

"I love you," Sam told Eileen, doubling down on his feelings by communicating them through ASL as well.

"I love you, too," she said.

"Get a room, you two," Dean teased them.

Sam called him a jerk as he dug his headphones out.

Dean didn't think Sam had said those three little words to anyone since Jess, and Dean himself had never said them; could never bring himself to say them. He glanced at Cas in the mirror again, chest constricting at the thought of losing Cas again. He'd lost him too many times, and was terrified that he'd lose him again.

Sam arranged for Eileen to meet them at the bunker, but in the end Dean volunteered to take a detour to her house so that Sam could ride home with her. Thankfully he took Miracle, too, and Cas moved into the front passenger seat.

"Is it later, yet?" he asked, once they were back on the road.

Dean swallowed. He had meant later, once they'd eaten and he'd had a chance to figure out what the hell he wanted to say. "I guess it is."

Cas sat there silently, minutes dragging by, until Dean realised the angel was waiting for him to speak. Cas had said everything he'd had to say before the Empty took him, and now it was Dean's turn.

"Look, uh, I've never... Guys aren't something that... If you know me, then you know that..."

"I am a multi-dimensional wavelength of celestial intent," Cas reminded Dean patiently. "It is the vessel that I am possessing that presents as male." He squinted. "I could take a female vessel, if that is something you would—"

"No!" Dean exclaimed quickly.

Cas swallowed. "It's not my vessel," he realised sadly. "It's that my feelings for you are not returned."

"Dude, that's not what I'm—" Dean trailed a hand down his face. "Losing you, it hurts. It hurts as much as losing Sam, only it's different, and I don't know what that means."

"I think," Cas began carefully, "it means that you love me. But you need to decide what kind of love it is that you're feeling. Familial, platonic, romantic..."

"What?"

"Do you love me as family, as a friend, or as a romantic partner? I loved you as a friend, then as family, and I grew to love you romantically - but I don't love you because I have a desire for sexual intimacy with you. As an angel that would be as disappointing as eating - merely experiencing the physical and hormonal sensations without feeling the accompanying pleasure. Though if that was something you desired I would be more than willing to oblige, but I don't see that as being something you would have an interest in. At least, not in this vessel. Yet you are unwilling for me to change vessels."

"It wouldn't be you, then."

"I would still be me, Dean."

"I know, I just mean..."

"You've gotten used to seeing me as Jimmy Novak."

Dean coughed. "Way to make it weird, Cas."

"All I want is to spend your life with you," Cas told him.

"You've always been welcome to do that, Cas. But you leave."

"Or you send me away."

Dean swallowed, knowing that Cas was thinking about his time as a human - when Gadreel, pretending to be Ezekiel, had insisted that Castiel could not be around him. "I'm sorry," Dean apologised. He'd apologised before, and would keep apologising. "You needed me, and I should have been there for you."

"You made the choice you did out of your love for Sam," Cas acknowledged. "And that love is one of the many reasons that I love you. I would settle for living your life with you as your friend, as family, if that was all you desired. But I hope for you to desire more."

Dean frowned. "I thought you said you didn't want sex?"

Cas stared at him for a long moment. "Commitment, Dean. A promise to spend your life with me, faithfully."

And Dean nearly drove the car off the road as he realised that 'commitment' meant no more one night stands, no more casual flings. He was such an idiot... But the more he mulled over the meaning of Castiel's words, the more he surprised himself to realise that he was okay with the idea. Sure, sex was pleasurable and fun, but without a meaningful, emotional connection to the other person involved it lacked something that always left him feeling physically satisfied but otherwise empty.

"Would you ever have told me how you felt?" he blurted out. "If you hadn't been trying to save me from Billie?"

"I don't think so," Cas admitted.

"Why not?"

Castiel stared out of the window, looking away from Dean. "Because to hear you tell me that my feelings were not returned, or worse, for you to ask me to leave, is something that would hurt too much."

"The Empty's definitely not coming back for you, right?"

"No, Dean. Our deal was fulfilled."

"Then say it again, Cas."

Castiel turned to him, slowly, with hope in his eyes. "I love you," he said quietly.

Dean shot Cas a meaningful look. "I know."

Hurt momentarily crossed Castiel's face, before realisation dawned and he beamed. "I understand that reference."

Dean laughed, and pressed his foot down on the accelerator.

"So, what now?" Sam asked, once they'd all pushed their plates aside, stuffed full on Dean's homemade burgers.

"Everything we've ever done has been because Chuck wanted it that way," Dean said. "From before we were even born, Heaven was manipulating Mom and Dad into a relationship. Hunting has been my life, but I don't want the job title to define me."

"Job title?" Sam echoed, amused.

"Yeah. 'Hunter' - I want to be more than that."

"Such as?"

"A teacher," Dean said. "I was thinking about it on the drive home - the next generation of hunters are growing up fast, and they need help just like Bobby helped us. And you were doing good, running that network of hunters from here. That could be our future - making our own way. Not hunters, or Men of Letters, but combining that into something that is ours. From now on, we write our own destiny."

Sam nodded thoughtfully.

"And I want to retire. At least partially. I want to live a life. I want to live my life. I want to be a brother," he said, looking at Sam. "Maybe even a brother-in-law?" he asked, giving Eileen a look that caused her to blush and Sam to kick him under the table. "And a... partner," he finished, looking at Cas. He wasn't sure what the right word was to describe what he wanted with Cas, but he had time to figure it out.

Sam cleared his throat. "You cooked, Eileen and I will clean up," he said, gesturing at their dirty plates. "Why don't you and Cas go, uh, watch some Netflix. And maybe chill." He chuckled to himself.

"Sure, that sounds like a great idea," Dean said, standing up and dragging Cas out of his chair. He failed to understand what Sam found so funny. "Maybe we can finish Game of Thrones - I hear that show had a terrible ending..."

#Supernatural #Destiel #Saileen #spnfic #destielfic #canon divergent #fix it fic #SPN S15 #my fic

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mithranqueersmusings · 3 years

Text

I Think I'll Love You Too I

Chapter: 1/?

Rating: E

Summary: George and Ringo have been going out officially for a couple of months. Ringo anticipated that dating a stripper would be complicated, but he didn't understand exactly how complicated it would be.

Tags: Modern AU, Smut

Pairing: George Harrison/Ringo Starr (Background McLennon)

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

"Are you sure about this?" Ringo asked tentatively, running the strips of leather through his fingers gently.

George gave him a look which needed no further explanation, the severity of his gaze enough to silence Ringo's worries. It hadn't been too long ago that Ringo had fantasised about having George all to himself yet now that dream had become a reality, he was nervous. Nervous about what exactly, Ringo didn't know, but ever since George had decided to reveal his extensive sex toy collection Ringo had been dreading the day he'd actually be required to use any of them. It wasn't that he didn't want to use these array of objects on George - the images they conjured in his mind kept him up late on several occasions - but he worried he wouldn't know how to do it properly. George seemed far more experienced with kinks and toys and everything really.

"We can try something else if you like." George was lying on his bed in nothing but a silk - Ringo couldn't tell whether it was real or not - dressing gown that was a deep shade of blue.

"Like what?" Ringo put the whip he'd been holding down onto the bed gently as though it had a mind of its own then scooted around to peruse through George's box once more.

"How about..." George began, scooting down the bed to get a better view "Wax?"

It took Ringo a few moments before he spotted the candles tucked away in the corner, they were thick and red like ones you might see in a horror film. Candles didn't seem that intimidating, at least compared to some of the other contraptions in here. Ringo wasn't even sure what some of them were called, and he was far too embarrassed to ask in this moment.

"Have you ever done it before?" George asked, his voice soft and sultry.

Ringo shook his head and chuckled "How hard can it be? I mean... It's candles."

"Precisely my thinking." George smiled at Ringo, quieting any anxiety he had.

"So... Uh- how do you wanna do this?" Ringo asked feeling rather helpless, picking up two of the candles from the box and giving them a smell - cherry scented, he guessed.

"Well." George began, the excitement in his voice evident, getting up from the bed and crouching beside the box "We're gonna need these."

These referred to a pair of handcuffs and two pieces of ribbon-like material which were a dark maroon colour. Ringo couldn't help himself from staring at George's face as he concentrated, his dark brows knitting together with his expression serious. Even though they'd been dating for a month or two now, Ringo still couldn't believe his luck that he was able to tie down - no pun intended - someone as stunning as George. Light stubble was brushed along his sharp jaw, only accentuating the bone further, his hair was messy yet still enticing and the paleness of his skin was clear to see as the robe slipped over his skin freely.

"We could do a blindfold too, if you wanted." George lowered his voice in concentration "Maybe some... No, I'm getting carried away."

George laughed to himself and returned back to his full height, clutching the aforementioned items before chucking them onto the bed with little consideration. Then he rummaged through his bedside table for a lighter, there was always one in the bedroom due to the cigarettes they tended to smoke after sex. Successful in his search, George threw the lighter to Ringo without warning but he managed to catch it all the same. Ringo cursed himself for feeling so flustered, but it was difficult knowing what was to come. No matter how many times he slept with George, no matter what kind of depraved acts they got up to, he still felt as anxious as the very first time; that was just the effect George had on him.

"I'm gonna hop in the bath real quick, then we can start. Okay?" George threw off his robe casually, letting the fabric slide from his smooth skin into a pile on the floor.

"Sounds like a plan." Ringo nodded, finally putting the candles down beside the bed.

Ringo watched George with hungry eyes as he sauntered off into the bathroom, the way he swung his hips made it clear to Ringo that he knew he was being looked at. The door shut with a gentle thud, leaving Ringo alone to gather his thoughts and prepare for what was to come.

"Comfortable?" Ringo asked after clicking the handcuffs together, pulling George's slim wrists to the top of the bed.

George nodded with a small smile, wiggling his limbs to test the strength of the restraints then nodded again. This was a small moment of intimacy that occurred every time they ventured into kinky territory, the calm before the storm in many ways. Ringo smiled back then flicked the lights off, leaving nothing but a lamp in the corner to light the suppleness of George's body. Ringo's nerves seemed to dissipate in the relative darkness, his breath steadying as he moved back over to the bed. First, he captured George's soft lips in a gentle kiss that quickly grew heated. George wasn't the most patient when it came to the bedroom, his teeth already pulling at Ringo's bottom lip. It took a great deal of strength for Ringo to pull away, fighting the temptation to forget all about the candles and to start spreading George open.

The candles had already been lit, sitting on the bedside table flickering slightly, and it was now that Ringo made his way over to pick one of them up. The sweet smell of cherry wafted around the room, something usually so innocent now suddenly turned erotic. The look in George's eyes was hungry, his hands were already fiddling with the handcuffs as best they could from the awkward angle, watching Ringo experimentally tilt the candle sideways so that the wax began to drip down. First it fell onto the bed, Ringo didn't want to try it directly onto George's skin at first. How much was this going to hurt? Ringo supposed he didn't really have to know, George knew and more importantly wanted desperately to feel the sensation.

"Come on..." George whined, rattling his handcuffs against the metal bedframe in protest.

Ringo moved his hand further, hovering the candle over George's hairless stomach before tilting it once more. The wax dripped down instantly, burning the soft skin for a moment before solidifying; its rich red colour made it appear almost like blood, a sight which no doubt spurred further depraved fantasies in George's mind.

"More." George demanded, his pupils dilated both from the darkness and his exponentially growing lust "And take your fucking clothes off."

Ringo gulped, unsure as to which command he was meant to follow first. It was difficult to think with this enticing display laid out before him: George's cock was beginning to harden and it made Ringo's mouth water. He decided to carry on with the candle for a few more moments, teasingly tilting the candle back and forth so that the wax never fell when George was expecting it. Ringo slowly began making a pattern which gradually grew closer to George's erection, each drop pulling a sharp hiss from his lips.

"Clothes." George repeated impatiently, it was moments like this that reminded Ringo why he'd been so intimidated by George when they'd first crossed paths.

Ringo didn't wait to be told a third time, even though George was helpless to administer any punishment even if he'd wanted to, undoing his trousers and shirt sloppily and tossing them behind him. He hadn't realised how hard he'd become until his erection sprang free from his boxers, evidently George wasn't the only one enjoying this little experiment. Candle back in hand, Ringo carefully shifted himself onto the bed to straddle George's thighs - careful to ensure they were never close enough for their cocks to brush together, that'd be making things too easy - before he tilted the candle once more. This time Ringo aimed for George's nipples which were hard with the coldness of the room, only missing by an inch or two. The second attempt was successful, landing directly onto the target, leading George to groan breathlessly.

"Feel good?" Ringo asked with a raised eyebrow, his free hand rubbing over the clean nipple.

George nodded "Stop holding back. I can take it."

Ringo smirked, jerking his wrist swiftly to administer another hot drop of wax onto his nipples "You wanna tell me where you want it, baby?"

George growled in response, a noise Ringo only heard every so often "My cock." The word sounding so filthy in George's rough tone, his tongue playing with his sharp teeth.

"You sure?" Ringo asked after a pause, his nervousness returning only slightly.

"Yes, I'm sure." George whined, thrusting his hips upwards as best he could to demonstrate his desperation "Now, do it."

Ringo couldn't deny that George's bossiness was a complete turn on, although he'd never let George know exactly how much of a turn on it truly was. He tried his best to silence the anxious thoughts plaguing his mind. Before committing to George's demand, Ringo wrapped his fingers gently around George's erection which earned him a few soft pants. Now or never, Ringo told himself before tilting the thick candle once more and letting the wax fall onto the hard cock gripped in his hand.

The noise that left George's mouth was something Ringo had never heard before, a mixture between a gasp and a deep moan, though it was certainly one he wanted to hear again (and again, and again...) It was difficult to not admire the strange beauty of the wax trickling down George's erection, which was now rock hard.

"Fuck..." Ringo couldn't keep the words from spilling from his lips, only waiting a moment or two before spilling more hot wax onto the reddening skin.

George let out a grunt, sounding far more in pain than he had previously, and for a moment Ringo worried he'd taken it too far but the look on his face was of pure ecstasy.

"More." George moaned, his wrists struggling in the constraints.

"Now, now." Ringo teased, a sly grin on his lips "There's a nicer way of asking that."

The look George gave Ringo made him very appreciative of the restraints for without them, George might've slapped him. He knew George's aggression wasn't genuine, it was just sexual frustration, but that didn't make it any less terrifying. A few moments passed in which the two of them just looked at each other, George's mouth tight with anger as he waited for Ringo to give up this act and carry on following his orders, but the time never came. Ringo only raised his eyebrows further, tilting the candle just so that it never dropped any wax.

"I'm waiting." Ringo spoke with a lilt, his grin widening.

George rolled his eyes and scoffed, looking like a disgruntled child "Please give me more, Ringo..."

"More of... what?" Ringo pushed his luck, he decided he may as well make use of George being helpless like this for as long as he could.

George's stare was deadly but it melted away when Ringo gave his cock a few loose jerks "Please pour that hot wax on my cock, please. I've been good, haven't I?"

Ringo found it difficult to refuse George whenever he opted for the mock-innocent route, so he decided to stop the teasing and snapped his wrist suddenly which led to three separate droplets of wax falling onto the sensitive skin of George's cock. George practically shrieked, his body jerking upwards but failing to move more than a few inches off the bed.

"Fuuuuck." George breathed, his eyes struggling to focus "Do that again."

For a moment Ringo debated teasing George further, but his own erection was growing uncomfortably hard and he wouldn't be able to ignore it for much longer. In a quick motion Ringo grabbed the second candle, unleashing a shower of wax down onto George. The noises were pained yet still erotic, Ringo couldn't help moaning himself as he watched the pain and pleasure washing over George's face. When George and Ringo's eyes finally met once more, Ringo could tell that George's vision was a little fuzzy.

"Can you use wax as lube?" Ringo asked, his mouth opening before he'd even considered what he was saying.

George's hazy eyes lit up "We can try."

Only now did Ringo realise the commitment he was making with that question, although it would have been foolish to pretend the idea didn't excite him thoroughly. It wasn't the smoothest transition but Ringo managed to undo the restraints on George's legs and get him into a position where the wax could drop directly onto his entrance.

"Are you sure?" Ringo asked cautiously, his free hand running circles up and down George's thigh to soothe him.

"Do it." George ordered once more, biting down on his lip.

Ringo shut off the barrage of voices telling him to stop, that this was taking things too far, and let his wrist flop down. George was incapable of making a sound, his mouth agape with only sharp breaths pouring out. However much it hurt, Ringo was certain he didn't want to know, but it was clear that George approved of whatever it was he was experiencing.

"Jesus." George panted "Feels so fucking good."

"Oh yeah?" Ringo asked, letting another two drops fall onto his hole "Tell me."

"Fuck!" George yelped, his wrists rattling in the handcuffs "Hurts so much... Don't stop."

Ringo tried to ignore the potential contradiction, pressing his finger roughly inside before spilling more wax from above; a drop fell onto Ringo's finger and stung for a moment or two before the pain subsided. George was falling apart before him, sweat dripping from his forehead and sticking his dark hair onto the skin in strands.

"I don't need your fingers." George squirmed "I want your cock, Ringo. Now."

"It's not-" Ringo began but George silenced him with a glare "Alright."

Ringo shifted himself on his knees, pumping his finger a few more times before pulling it out entirely. It didn't take too long for Ringo to learn the telling signs of when George was getting close: his toes would start curling, he'd bite his lip just hard enough to draw a drop or two of blood and his eyes would grow so dark, the pupil engulfing the iris completely.

Even Ringo was getting too frustrated to be overtly considerate, letting the wax fall liberally down onto George's arse, coating his cock and his entrance as a cacophony of moans and shrieks filled the room. It was getting to a point that Ringo was concerned that George might break the handcuffs completely, the skin on his wrists clearly irritated.

"Ringo..." George cooed, it was impossible for Ringo not to be enticed by his own name being said so sweetly "I want you inside me."

No further words were needed, Ringo spit into his hand and lathered up his cock before lining up with George's entrance, now covered with red wax. Fortunately it hadn't solidified completely and Ringo was able to fashion a makeshift lube out of the soft wax and his own spit, it wasn't his most dignified moment but in the heat of the moment all he needed was to feel his cock stretching George out. As the head pushed past the tight ring of muscle George began clawing at the bedframe, sweat dripping from his skin as he moaned at the sensation.

"I swear you get fucking bigger every time." George breathed, his hand gripping the metal frame to expel some tension.

"I'm not getting bigger, you're getting tighter." Ringo groaned, thrusting himself in deeper as the smell of cherries wafted into his nose.

It was difficult to move at first, the lube was hardly effective and without any preparation it was a struggle. More spit was needed and eventually more wax, Ringo was as careful as he could manage to not drop any onto his own cock but it was only possible to a certain extent; the further they went the more he found himself enjoying the burning sensation although he was certain he wouldn't be able to endure as much as George had.

"Not complaining are you?" George cocked an eyebrow and pulling Ringo closer towards him with his legs.

Ringo moaned gruffly "You know I'm not."

"Fuck me harder, then." George began writhing again, desperate for his own cock to be touched.

It was a complete sensory overload: the cherry scent so strong now that Ringo's head was swimming, the wax occasionally catching on his skin which would cause him to suddenly thrust forward into George who was so tight that Ringo wanted to scream. George was practically wailing at this point, his lip smeared with red as he tried to keep his eyes locked on Ringo's as he fucked him deeper.

"I feel like I'm gonna pass out." Ringo admitted, the fuzziness of his mind slurring his speech just slightly.

George looked concerned for a moment, it wasn't often that his sultry persona was shaken but it was difficult to hide; Ringo reassured him with a weak smile, gripping onto George's thigh and quickening his thrusts. He was getting close, George seemed to have been on the edge of orgasm for an impossible amount of time.

"I'm close, I'm close." Ringo repeated, cascading more wax down onto the few areas of George's chest that were still bare before blowing out the candle entirely and chucking it onto the bedside table as accurately as he could manage.

"Touch me." George pleaded, barely able to keep his eyes open.

Ringo wrapped his hand once more around George's coated cock, the wax had started to crumble and create a mess all over the bed but neither of them paid any attention. The intensity of his incoming orgasm almost scared Ringo, he'd never felt anything like it before. George hadn't stopped babbling, whether he was whining for release or muttering incoherent yet clearly filthy things.

"Need your fucking cum." George managed to speak with some clarity "Fuck! Give it to me, give it to me... I want your cum."

Ringo gripped George's leg tighter for some stability, expelling his final burst of energy as he fucked into him roughly and sloppily. Both were groaning, dripping with sweat and wax and desperation. If Ringo had known this experience would be this enjoyable, he would've suggested it sooner.

"Shit, shit." Ringo panted "I'm close."

"Mmmm." George whined, his voice nearly wrecked "Come on, baby, give it to me. I wanna feel your hot cum deep inside me. Please, please, please, make me dirty. I wanna be dirty for you."

"Fuuuucking hell." Ringo's hips stuttered as he chased his orgasm, his eyes shut tight as the ever-familiar sensation began deep in his stomach "You're unbelievable, George."

Then he was coming, the orgasm striking Ringo with such an intensity that he released a noise he didn't even know he was capable of making. With these final shreds of energy Ringo desperately jerked George's cock until he was finishing too, shooting cum all over his wax-covered skin. The climax hit like a huge wave, crashing into the both of them as utter ecstasy washed over their sweaty bodies. It took several moments for the both of them to recover, Ringo hadn't even pulled out while they tried to catch their breath.

When Ringo finally felt capable of opening his eyes and returning to reality, George was looking directly at him with a smug expression.

"What?" Ringo asked, sitting down onto the bed and brushing his sweaty hair away from his forehead.

"Nothing." George replied innocently "I just can't believe you did all that."

"Is it really that surprising?" Ringo leaned over to finally release George's aching wrists from the handcuffs.

"Maybe not." George let his arms flop onto the bed "But if you'll do this, maybe there's some more shit in that box we can try."

"I'm gonna need at least 3-5 working days to recover from this." Ringo huffed, lying himself down beside George "Then we can talk."

#beatles fanfic #beatles fanfiction #the beatles #beatles #george harrison/ringo starr #george harrisonxringo starr #ringo starr/george harrison #starrison #starrison smut

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spicycreativity · 3 years

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Fanfic Appreciation Week Day 7: A Place Where I Can Breathe

Yes, folks, I'm appreciating my own darn fanfic for the final day of Fanfic Appreciation Week because I worked really hard on it and it was a labor of love for/with one of my QPPs, my roommate, the man who got me into Sanders Sides: @\cadeorade-powercade (That's him in the aesthetic board)

Allow me to present the director's commentary for A Place Where I Can Breathe:

Content Warnings: All content warnings mentioned in the fic apply.

Chapter 1: I actually wrote this fairly late in the game. It's meant to serve as a prologue and orient the viewer in the universe, s opposed to staring on Chapter 2, which just throws the viewer in without context. I think it was a good choice, as it also allowed me to introduce the concept of the Sides having power focuses early on.

The Premise: Cade is a Virgil stan and he was getting frustrated looking for Virgil fic. He was finding a lot of stuff written without nuance by young authors, a sort of "by teenagers for teenagers" type deal. We are not teenagers, so we both have a hard time relating to that kind of teen angst fic, as we're not the target audience. So he asked me to write him a Virgil fic and we worked together to identify what plot he wanted, what the Mindscape looked like, and what quirks the Sides have. So a lot of this fic is quite gratuitous and self-indulgent

The Title: Lizzie McAlpine has a song called "Apple Pie" which includes the lyric "I've been running around trying to find a place where I can breathe." Apple Pie SCREAMS Moceit to me, and I had taken notice of the lyric and wanted to use it as the title for a Moceit fic. I didn't really have an idea beyond that, and when Cade asked me to write this fic, I realized it was actually perfect and summed up Virgil's inner struggle quite nicely. So cheers to "A Place Where I Can Breathe," the Moceit Fic That Wasn't

-Cade asked me specifically to include Virgil having a spider and I wrote nearly the whole fic without doing so, then had to go back and sprinkle some references in. I think I managed 2 total.

Chapter 2:

"Uh, how about I hold off on that until I actually see my room?" Virgil stared expectantly at Roman, who bounced on his toes. "Lead on, Macduff."

"That's not the line and you know it," Roman complained, but he turned to lead Virgil to his room. "It's ' lay on, Macduff,' and--"

-This fic was originally supposed to reach a climax with a confrontation between Remus and Roman, and "lay on, Macduff" would come back as a brick joke. Unfortunately, the original ending was a result of me getting tired and lazy, so I had to go back and fix it, and we lost the Roman-Remus confrontation.

It was hard for Virgil to not shudder at the sudden heat and weight on him. With his senses already open and taking in more information than his brain seemed to want to process, touch was an added stressor, more unwanted sensory input.

-Virgil being touch-averse is a direct shoutout to Cade, who is also touch-averse.

Roman had already transformed the living room: metallic streamers of purple and black stretched across the corners of the ceiling, and shiny balloons spelling out A-N-X-E-I-T-Y hovered above the TV.

-Upon first writing, Virgil had already given the upstairs crew his name, so the banner spelled out "VIRIGL" which is way funnier than "ANXEITY." But then his name reveal became a plot point so I had to go back and change it.

-Let! Virgil! Be! Mean!

-Virgil's line about hearing refrigerator noise when Roman talks is another shout-out to Cade, who has leveled that accusation at me

A small, cruel part of him protested at the idea that he would need special treatment and desperately wanted to throw it back in Patton's face. He wasn't a sweetheart, he wasn't a baby. He didn't need to crawl into a blanket fort with Dad just because he was a little stressed.

-Remus calls Janus "Janus Geminus" because I was tired and couldn't come up with a pun. "Geminus" is one of the Roman god Janus' epithets; another is "Pater" meaning "Father." That led to a conversation about Remus deliberately confusing Patton by calling Janus "Daddy," but I couldn't think of a clean way to fit the explanation into the narrative, so I stuck with "Geminus."

Chapter 3:

"There's nothing normal about that! " Roman stared in horror at the coffee massacre Virgil had orchestrated. What had once been a respectable (if not very tasty) cup of black coffee was now part of a 1:1 coffee to milk suspension, the liquid a tasteful shade of tan suitable for business casual trousers or a show-ready chihuahua.

-Cade is a certified Nightmare Man and came up with Virgil's horrifying coffee order after I asked him about it. Keep an eye out for Janus' equally horrifying coffee order later in the fic.

1) Shouts out the fact that Janus is canonically a Dostoevsky fan

Chapter 4:

Janus smiled at him. "Where reason fails, the Devil helps." He fussed with his gloves and straightened his capelet. "It's showtime."

-I fucking love Crime and Punishment. Look at me. Look at me. I fucking love Crime and Punishment. Janus' quoting Raskolnikov serves multiple purposes:

2) Lampshades the fact that Roman just conveniently happened to be alone in the living room, because I didn't want to waste time getting him there. That makes me, the author, the Devil

3) Foreshadows the impending disaster. When Raskolnikov says this line it is because he had planned to commit axe murder. The axe he was planning to steal had been moved, but he finds another, different axe to use. Raskolnikov messes up the murder and ends up killing an innocent witness in addition to his intended target. Janus messes up his manipulation attempt and ends up murdering Roman's self esteem

-I was going to include a reference to Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead (Remus' line "debauchery and vomit" was originally going to be "blood, love, and rhetoric") but I didn't because... Uh... Hm. Why didn't I do that. Maybe I just forgot about it???

-Roman is too stubborn to manipulate for long and that is a fact.

"I was pretty much done anyway," Remus said. "There's only so much debauchery and vomit you can fit into one story."

-Cade specifically ask me that nobody cry in this fic, but after I had Janus eviscerate Roman I knew he couldn't not cry a little. I kept it to a minimum because there's already a billion fucking fics about [literally any Side] crying on the shoulder of [literally any other Side] and it's really just not interesting to either of us.

-It didn't come up because it doesn't matter, but Thomas dreamed he was participating in the exact Dionysian orgy that took place in The Secret History because it's my fic and I said so.

Chapter 5:

He just sat back and watched and tugged at his hair while Janus spooned mound after mound of crisp white sugar into his mug and Virgil poured his customary eight fluid ounces of milk into his own mug.

-Cade strikes again. Virgil's coffee order is equal amounts milk to coffee; Janus' is equal parts sugar to coffee. He had asked me to include a scene where Roman catches Janus massacring his coffee and is appropriately horrified, but I uhh... Didn't write it. I still might include it as an omake someday.

-I imagine that Roman feels really strongly about dragons vs wyverns, and Remus just pretends to give a shit because he thinks it's funny to wind Roman up. Fortunately for me but unfortunately for my sense of realism in writing, I can't relate because I adore my sister and we get along perfectly almost 100% of the time.

"You shut us down every chance you get!" Remus said, baring his teeth. "How would you like it if your pens never wrote, hm? What would you do with all those thoughts in your head?"

-I do wish I had developed the concept of power focuses a bit more, established rules and such. Basically, Patton is always on the prowl for wrongthink and actively represses it, which in turn breaks or sabotages the Dark Sides' power focus.

Chapter 6: This chapter really should have been Janus and Roman but I was really tired and didn't want to bother with it. Plus, you know, Moceit. This chapter was meant to demonstrate how the characters would get along without Virgil nannying them. There's friction, but everyone is making a conscious, deliberate effort to get along because they love Virgil, and love is a series of choices you make.

I chose "Leo" as the answer for the answer to the crossword clue instead of "Virgo," because my other QPP is a Leo. She'll never read this fic, but I did it anyway because I love her. (Trivia: My sign is Virgo, so it was really a choice between shouting her out and shouting me out, and the last chapter is self-indulgent enough, thank you).

Chapter 7: I was gonna write a fic where all the Sides watched Cats the Musical because I was going through a phase. Then Cade requested this so I combined the two ideas. By this point I was fucking exhausted, and that's the only thing that saved you and the rest of the world from me writing the Sides riffing on the movie scene-by-scene. I could come up with snarky commentary for almost every, if not every single song from the movie.

Most notably, I cut a Patton-Remus interaction where Remus declares his love for Grizabella and Patton gets all staryy-eyed about Remus connecting with the idea of rising above rejection and being loved and accepted only for Remus to shoot him down and explain that he just likes that she got to die in a tire fire.

Other cut scenes include Janus quietly pretending not to go feral over Mister Mistoffelees, Patton full-on fucking sobbing over Grizabella and the kittens, and Logan experiencing a deep, soulful kinship with Munkustrap during Of The Awefull Battle of the Pekes and the Pollices (and henceforth introducing the phrase "like herding cats" into his regular vocabulary

#spicypost #fanfic appreciation week

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