#edit: brain wants me 2 apologize for posting this at all and delete it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

suchababie · 3 years

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I posted 38,961 times in 2021

1019 posts created (3%)

37942 posts reblogged (97%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 37.2 posts.

I added 19,231 tags in 2021

#barbequeue - 4619 posts

#mcu - 3897 posts

#chris evans - 2035 posts

#bucky barnes - 1961 posts

#q - 1531 posts

#marvel - 1239 posts

#sebastian stan - 1155 posts

#steve rogers - 1093 posts

#henry cavill - 855 posts

#stucky - 846 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#my sole purpose of existence is being here on tumblr simping for white men who are either fictional or dont know who i am in real life lmao

My Top Posts in 2021

hii, can you please rec some tony stark fanfic blogs?

Omg hiiii!!!! Of course!!! I’d gladly rec you some of tony stark fanfic writers out hereeee @kamalahkhan

And i just wanna add, the exact reason why i joined this hellsite last year is to come and search for more tony stark fanfics ahahahaha 💓💓💓💓

This list may change if i ever miss some blogs :))) i would like to apologize if i ever miss someone but when i do remember i will immediately put an addition here edited 11/1/21

@letsby , @mostly-marvel-musings , @another-stark-sub @patheticallysentimental @boop-le-snoot @slothspaghettiwrites @slut4tonystark , @tonystarkscumslutz @buckyownsmylife ‘s let me try fic @russiandoll-from-brooklyn ‘s just once part 1 and 2 , @sherrybaby14 , @shewhohangsoutincemeteries ,@avengerscompound also known as @emilyevanston , @canumoveurseatup-no @thran-duils has some dark tony fics @darsynia @bolontiku @ironlady1993 has some tony stark dark fics @heavenbarnes has some short tony drabbles also her three-part fic ‘Battle of the Egos’ is 😩💜💜

I just know there are a lot of tony stark fanfic writers out there. I’m sorry i’m limited w these bc my brain has a short memory storage sksksksk

To the wonderful blogs that I have tagged, maybe you can lend me a hand in here?? ☺️☺️☺️☺️💓💓💓💓💓

139 notes • Posted 2021-10-14 14:32:27 GMT

Thank you @pepper-stark for the tag! 😄🥰✨💕

Rules: Name 7 comfort films and tag 7 people

In no particular order

Clueless

The Craft

Mean Girls

10 Things I Hate About You

The Breakfast Club

Miss Congeniality 1 and 2

Before Sunrise

Captain America : The Winter Soldier

BONUS (SORRY I CANT HELP IT):

•Thor: Ragnarok

•Legally Blonde

•White Chicks

Tagging! @babyboibucky @bitchassbucky @sarge-barnes-sir @yeet-me-out-tonight @mariestark @bloggingfromherbed @msmarvelwrites @countonthesun @lookiamtrying @whoth3hellisbucky

LMAO i went pass the limit 😌 its ok tho

ALSO anyone can join!!! I suck at tagging games in general

178 notes • Posted 2021-05-19 12:32:48 GMT

Frank Adler x reader

A short impromptu drabble based on this post and this gif below eheheheh deleted the other post so that it won’t disturb the OP

Also there might be changes bc as i said, impromptu 😂 never planned this. An idea just came out from my head looking at this gif

Oh my god this gif is giving me thots

18+ under the cut (just a short impromptu imagine. Not edited lmao) please like, rb and comment if you like it :)))

Imagine teasing frank by sending provocative pictures of yourself with your sweetest innocent face and then he texts back saying ‘I’ll be there in 10 minutes. I expect you to lay in your back, legs spread with your panties and my shirt on.’ You got all excited that you quickly took off your shorts and positioned yourself in the bed the way he liked.

By the time you heard the front door slam, you can feel your panties pool with your wetness as you gripped the bed sheets at the sides. He isn’t there in the room yet and yet you’re so turned on by the thought of your Frank seeing you vulnerable like this. You just wanted nothing but all of him. It’s what it matters to you right now.

You were so preoccupied with your filthy thoughts that you didn’t know he was already by the bedroom door, eyes endeavoring your sweet body spread out on the sheet and lips smirking. “You’re in it for a wild ride, sweetheart.”

199 notes • Posted 2021-09-07 17:00:19 GMT

Thots +18 under the cut. This is my first ever smut posted on Tumblr! Finally able to post it!!! And ngl i’m nervous ahahaha :) (tbh i feel nauseous of how nervous i am) . Shoutout to @bemine-bucky, @borikenlove, and @spicynudlesoup who witnessed the thirst I had for him that time lmao. Instead of Chris Evans RPF, I made it to Ari Levinson bc i love him

Pairing: Ari Levinson x reader

word count: 1,079

WARNINGS: NOT BETA’D. ALL OF THE MISTAKES ARE MY OWN.18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI. D/S dynamics, light dry humping if you squint, breath play (light choking), petnames, light degradation, language, allusions to punishment and smut. I think that’s it? please let me know if there are anymore warning that i didn’t include.

I give no permission to repost this work to any other media outlets. If you like it, reblogs are also very much appreciated. Comments are also a very good plus! <3

Imagine being a little lonely in a small house you and your boyfriend Ari shared, home near the beach where you can hear the birds chirping loudly as they try to hunt for fish and the soft and peaceful sea crashing along the shore. Ari told you that he was a little busy like usual, planning for his next mission in god knows where. He was dedicated to his work because he loved helping those who are in need, you understand that and you loved that for him, but you didn’t like it when he was too much invested in it and left you alone on your own.

You were his very supportive, understanding, and loving girlfriend. You were his very good girlfriend. You always take care of him, obedient to him. But this time, it was getting on your nerves. You had enough for being good for him, and you wanted to be rebellious once in a while.

So you threw into a cute pleated mini skirt that you bought a few days ago, a pair of cream colored knee socks that had ruffles decorated around your knees, and your favorite shirt, his worn out patterned white shirt that you twisted the front of it and tied, making it look like a crop top. You checked yourself in the mirror and put on your best bambi look, the look that Ari couldn’t resist.

You prepared some light snacks for him since it was still in the middle of the afternoon. You placed the food on the tray. Your sock clad feet softly padded against the cold floor as you grip the wooden tray tightly. You were a little nervous that this stunt was going to happen. How would Ari react? This was very unusual for you to do this; to defy him a little. Your mind raced with different kinds of scenarios which made your stomach churn lightly, yet your pussy had a mind of its own, she was already throbbing. You could feel your arousal seeping through your panties.

You were now in front of the door where Ari was in. Rustling of papers and his raspy voice that sounded like he was on call, you can hear his deep raspy voice behind the door which made your lower region tingle in anticipation and your toes curl. You took a deep breath, mumbling under your breath that you could do it before your already sweaty hand reached for the knob and twisted clockwise.

The door flew open, which made Ari startle by its creaking hinges. He looked at you, narrowing his eyes as you strutted inside, ignoring his daggers through the back of your skull as you made your way to the coffee table.

“Sir, I have to call you back,” he said to the phone and without hearing the receiver, he immediately ended it and tossed the device to the piled papers.

“The hell do you think you’re doing?” Ari gritted his teeth, his arms folded against his chest as you still ignored him, but you could feel your heart beating a little harder against your rib cage. You bent your upper body down a little, making your little skirt rise a little as you slowly placed the tray on the table.

You bit your lip with a smile when you heard a breath hitched behind you. You could tell that he could already see your open slit panties beneath the godforsaken skirt; your pretty petals had its own heartbeat with your own nectar coating around it, begging for it to be touched and sucked.

“Son of a bitch.” Ari muttered under his breath, his hands turned into fists and he didn't waste time. He strutted towards you, wrapped his arm around your waist and his other hand on your neck. “Don’t. Fucking. Move.” He punctuated every word, each word had him rutting his already tented crotch against your ass, no doubt the crotch of his jeans coated with your sweet arousal that had leaked already in your inner thighs to the tight muscle of your as. You whimpered, because you were so turned on and also you were a little scared of what he would do to you.

Ari had his chin resting on your shoulder, and he smirked. He barely even touched you, but he could already hear you panting. He felt bad for you just a tiny bit, because he was so busy with work that he neglected his precious girl. Right now, his precious girl was being a bad girl.

He tutted, tightening his grip on your neck a little that had you gripping his strong forearm. “Have I been neglecting you, sweetheart?” He asked, his breath tickled your ear and his beard that you absolutely loved stroked against your jaw, leaving prickles against your skin that had your hands gripping firmly on his arm.

“Answer me.” He growled, releasing a grip a little and tightening it again. He was playing with you, like a doll that you are. “Yes.” You managed to squeak, tears in your eyes threatened to spill, not because he was hurting you; but because you wanted him to use you.

“It’s been a week, Ari.” You sniffed. You can feel him smiling against your ear. “Well, why didn’t you say so, honey?”

He released his grip from your neck and your waist, pushing you harshly towards the

Couch that led you to stumble and land on the cushion on your knees.

“Bend over.” He commanded and you know better than to disobey him. You obliged, bending over that your chest reached the back of the couch’s back pillows and your knees were slightly raised from the cushion. You jerked a little when you felt his warm fingers touch the back of your exposed thighs, skimming the skin lightly like he was touching a delicate virgin, even if you were very far from one.

“You wanna be a slut?” He rhetorically asked, you just kept your mouth shut with your hands gripping the pillow tightly and your legs almost giving out.

“I’ll fucking treat you like one.” And with that, he flipped your skirt to your waist, completely exposing him with your drenched cunt. He swatted in between your inner thighs to signal you to open them wider and you did. “Good luck, baby. Because I don’t know when I’ll stop until I feel satisfied with my work.”

“Just so you know, I’m gonna fucking wreck you that you deserve.”

238 notes • Posted 2021-08-12 17:00:57 GMT

I saw this on facebook (dont judge me. I still hate facebook tho)

OKAY first of all, please don't judge me bwdfuhwvuieqhwgbi i used to have no life before i got my job skskskskssksk

And i think its beautiful

388 notes • Posted 2021-04-03 07:56:43 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #vixen's personals #vixen's collectibles #long post #tw long post

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teamsarawatshusband · 3 years

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Day 22 - Show That Surprised Me

Okay, I know. I know, I know. I won’t shut up about this show, and it’s gotta be so annoying for you guys. 😔 But, honestly, it has been the only show so far that truly genuinely surprised me. So, I’m not even sorry.

CQL - The Untamed

Before you read on, you should know that this post has been perceived as very controversial. Please be aware that my post (under the readmore) was meant sarcastically. There is an edit below the original post that will explain further.

You wanna know how it surprised me? Because, you have no idea! The impertinence of this show! I tell ya!

I started out my BL fandom life very very very set to watch solely Thai shows. Oh, yes, you heard me. All those Korean and Japanese and whatnot shows that kept appearing in gifs on my dash... Ha, I laughed in their faces and scrolled on.

And then there were those gifs of CQL.

ALL OVER TUMBLR.

EVERYWHERE.

SO FUCKING ANNOYING!!! 🙄🙄🙄

Some stupid Chinese crap show with people who all had the same hair and the same weird dresses and WHY THE FUCK WAS IT EVERYWHERE????

And it just wouldn’t stop, omg. The gifs kept coming from all sorts of mutuals and what the hell was wrong with people?!

So I hated on the show. With a passion. Unwatched. Unknown. Because fuck if I ever strayed off my Thai BL course, ha!

And then there was this one post that had a freaking powerpoint presentation - embarrassing much? - of how CQL was the most confusing show ever, and how it had 50 fucking episodes - as if people have no lives. So WHY ON EARTH WATCH IT FFS?

And, then, the end of the powerpoint said that you get sucked into loving it, whether you want to or not. Haha, ridiculous. Idiotic. AS IF!

And then...

My stupid ass brain... was like...

CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!!!!!

...

Yeah. And then I watched it. And couldn’t stop watching it. And fell in love with it. And had it ruin me for all other shows... Because I was so freaking set on hating it, and it made me love it more than anything else. 😭

No fair.

----- that’s the end of the original post ------

EDIT: Okay, since this post of mine has caused some controversy and came across as racist and sinophobic, I need to clarify:

1) I’m not deleting the post, because I’d rather have a civilized discussion about racism than deleting any traces of it and pretending it never happened. I strongly believe in learning from mistakes.

2) This post was written as sarcasm. I do not (and never did) actually believe that it’s a “crap show”, that the people in it “all had the same hair” and that they all wore “the same dresses”. I tried to mock-immitate the stereotypical western reaction of somebody who lacks any and all knowledge about a foreign culture.

3) I have nothing against non-Thai shows (I stuck to Thai shows, because I’m learning Thai and my brain finds it easier to learn a language if I fully submerge myself in it and don’t let myself get distracted by other languages)

4) I have replied in more detail about all of that in this post here.

5) Nevertheless, this post very apparently has caused discomfort and hurt and it is not up to me to decide whether the things I say come across as racist. As long as a single person feels that way, they were racist. Period. And I deeply and honestly apologize for that.

#30 day bl challenge #day 22 - show that surprised you #i wanted to hate it so so so much #removing the tags so it won't hurt anybody else

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jake-marshall · 3 years

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Writer Asks - 20 Questions

Was tagged by the fabulous @beck-a-leck Better late than never I guess? 1. How many works do you have on AO3? 76. I have a couple others on my ff.net that i don't feel like moving over because I'm pretty sure they'll forever remain incomplete. Everything on ao3 is either completed or something I would like to someday complete. 2. What's your total AO3 word count? 673,709

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they? Just a handful. If we're lumping all the Harvest Moon/Story of Seasons together, that cuts it significantly since I have fics for several different games. But yeah, other than HM/SoS, there's Ace Attorney/Great Ace Attorney Chronicles, Rune Factory, Reservoir Dogs, Inglourious Basterds, and Harry Potter.

4. What are your top 5 fics by Kudos? Made of Honor - 166 Price of Admission - 164 The Road Less Traveled - 153 Redefined - 139 Going Postal - 136 5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Always. Some comments are ones I respond to outside of ao3 if I know the person but otherwise I always try to say, at the very least, a simple "thanks!” 6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? I mean, I have a couple fics where the POV character just straight up fuckin dies at the end so. Those I guess? ("better wake up and apologize" and "The Good Fight" come to mind.) 7. Do you write crossovers? Not in a true sense. I mean stuff that's considered to take place in the same universe (like, my one fic has a lot of focus on the Vega brothers, who are from two different Tarantino movies) isn't really a crossover by my definition. Crossovers usually don't interest me - the only one I can think of that I've put any thought into is my idea with with Freddy + Larry (Reservoir Dogs) and Ruth + Idgie (Fried Green Tomatoes). 8. Have you ever received hate on a fic? Not directly, that I can recall? I do remember when I posted my newest Fredrick/Shosanna fic back in May, someone posted in the main fandom tag on tumblr that people need to "stop shipping them/making content of them!" and considering it was like, my fic + an edit by another user as the only recent "content" of them, that was a pretty thinly-veiled shot xD Although, I'm prepared to get hate if I ever complete my Gina/Ashley ideas to which I will just pity the fools who can't have as massive a brain as mine. 9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I do! All I have posted is M/M and F/M, if that's what "what kind" means? 10. Have you ever had a fic stolen? I've had parts of the "The Road Less Traveled" plagiarized, to which I lit up the perpetrator and they deleted their fic. 11. Have you ever had a fic translated? Not that I known of lol 12. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Me and @belleofhell are co-writing a ficlet collection for RF2, called "You're My Light" but we don't write the ficlets together. @canis-raine and I have collaborated on writing some Landstrom stuff though, which for me was quite fun to do. 13. What's your all-time favorite ship? I don't know if I can really pick an all-time fave. Miego would probably be up there, though just because of how long I've liked it. 14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? WIP as in something I've actually started/posted? Probably "The Devil's Den" which is my 1920s Klavquill AU. I like what I have so far and really would like to come back to it but... I dunno. xD 15. What are your writing strengths? Dialogue and writing characters IC. Developing OCs. Some of the biggest compliments for me is when people point out that either they really love an OC I included, or that I've written a character I consider complex/complicated as "in character". 16. What are your writing weaknesses? I feel like I get too wordy at times. Too many em dashes rofl. Probably pacing, too. 17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in another language? Haha well I've tried my very best to do this with my Inglourious Basterds fic and I've probably fucked it (German) up. I don't like it done too much but sometimes using/learning native words for the characters fits better, if that makes sense (like, as an example, I almost always write Hellstrom using German curse words/insults versus English.) 18. What was the first fandom you ever wrote for? I'm not really sure? I feel like I had to have written something before that cursed Simpsons self-insert fic but maybe not. 19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written? My gut reaction to this was "Round & Round" just because writing it when I wrote it was something that really needed to happen. And also "The Road Less Traveled" just because, to date, it's my longest complete fic and I'm so proud at how it turned out. There's really not much of anything I'd change in it. 20. Who do you tag? Anyone who wants to do this

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pebblysand · 4 years

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OF CRYSTAL ROSES (EXTENDED AUTHOR’S NOTE OF CHAPTER VI. OF CASTLES)

-- TO READ THE CHAPTER ITSELF, SEE HERE ON AO3 --

well, well, well. here we are. spoiler alert, gryffindors make plans they don’t stick to, lolz. all the good intentions in the world, i had. study, i said i would. yet, here were find ourselves, eighteen thousand words later. this appears to be how i roll. slept about five hours last night, too, so apologies if i’m slightly non-sensical/rambly. this chapter ought to be sponsored by deliveroo and teapigs tea, a brand of tea that appeared in my local supermarket a few moths ago and that i steadily refused to buy because - can tea really be worth this much? low and behold, once you’ve tried it once, it appears to be addictive. i’ve, while writing this chapter, worked my way through about four packs of their different teas - they are just this good. i have a job interview tomorrow so wish me luck in gaining employment which will hopefully fund my expensive habits.

now, before we get into the nitty gritty of the chapter, itself, i just needed to say this: i cannot thank everyone enough for the incredible response on last chapter. i’d kind of grown accustomed to getting a couple of reviews for each of them and to writing in my little corner of the internet but boy, you guys are bloody legends! i am so overwhelmed with gratitude for everyone who commented, kudo-ed and generally gave love to this fic in general. i really didn’t expect such a response and it’s meant the world to me. i think it’s probably also the reason why i’m posting so early because i kept being like, god, i can’t leave this many people waiting in this cliffhanger hell. i think this chapter ends on a more positive note (although, i’ll let you judge), one that might be more conducive of a few weeks’ wait (more on that below), haha.

this being said, as i explained on here before, i come from very tiny fandoms where basically everyone knows each other and the number of people reading would usually fit in my flat. the fact that over 80 people are now subscribed to this fic just blows my fucking mind. you’re all magnificent and i love you. i try to respond to all the comments so let’s keep chatting if you feel like it (although, no pressure - comment if you want to, but do know that it makes me very happy when you do :)). you’re all fabulous and i wish you all the best!

anyway, spoilers for castles, chapter vi under the cut.

guys, guys, guys, i am so tired. i’ve spent four days editing almost 20,000 words and my brain is fried. but, we are officially at the halfway point of this story, yaaaay!!! my plan, at this point, is that we’ll have six chapters on each side but even if i do end up splitting this one later (more on this below) i’ll end up with seven chapters on each side so either way - yay to the end of act 1!

i think that’s also why i tried to turn this chapter around this quickly. to me, i always kind of saw this fic as having two parts. part 1: the immediate post-war aftermath with the heartache and the love-fast/burn-fast start to harry/ginny. part 2: a slow and actually healthy rebuild of their relationship, and of the world around them. i have genuinely been writing towards that last harry/ginny scene in this chapter for months. it feels like such a relief to finally have that weight off my shoulders. and i actually do think it’ll allow me to focus on study later. act one is finished, and act two can wait a bit, i suppose.

now, obviously, given that i already apologised last time, part of me still wants to apologise for the length of this chapter, even more so, actually. it sits at about 18,000 words which, by nanowrimo’s standards, is over a third of a full book, wtf. yet, you guys also said last time that you didn’t actually mind long chapters, so perhaps i shouldn’t beat myself up too much?

as i said in the a/n, this is a little bit of different set up than chapter v. though. i know exactly where to split this. as you’ve probably seen by now, there’s a very natural split point after harry has his breakdown on the couch with ginny, before Christmas properly "starts." the reason i didn’t split this one there, though is: a) selfish: i needed to get this out. stop working on it. i need to study. when it’s out, i’m not thinking about it anymore. it would have been a bit non sensical to split this just for the sake of it and post two chapters at once, which means i probably would have held onto the second part for another couple of weeks, and fuck that. additionally, b) you may not have noticed this but: the chapter titles rhyme. why did i bring this additional difficulty upon myself, i do not fucking know. especially because i will soon run out of one-word construction materials to draw from, lol. as a result, though, i need an even number of chapters to close out this story and because i’m sort of planning six chapters from now to the end (more on that below) i can’t really split this one right now. like, if i end up with another overlong chapter in the next few months, i probably will take that opportunity and go back and split this one, just for readability. but at this stage, at this stage, because i don’t know how many chapters i’ll have for act two (six or seven), i’m keeping this chapter like this for the time being. i kind of hope i end up with seven chapters on the other side and am able to split this one down the line, but we will see. in the meantime, my most sincere apologies to the folks who read fanfiction before bed and it’s now 4 am by the time you’ve finished this. i’ve been there before, believe me.

from a personal standpoint, though, i have to say, this chapter (compared to the last one) was incredibly easy to write. i think i’d spent so much time imagining and writing these scenes in my head as kind of a culminating point for the first half of the story, that it quite simply poured out. i did have a little bit of an everything is shit crisis yesterday and today, but sure look, that always happens. overall, i am quite happy - i think - with the end result.

now, when i say "easy to write" i mean, technically, easy to find words to write down what was in my head. i do not mean: easy to write on an emotional level. oh boy. i’m generally not a crier. i have been asked, a number of times, by people who said my writing made them cry: do you cry when you write, too? and my answer was always ‘no’. i don’t judge, but i’m just not that kind of person. i know people who cry every day but personally, we are in the middle of a pandemic, my father recently passed away, i’ve lost my job and am studying for an exam my life is pretty dependent upon, and i haven’t cried in months. yet, i swear, there were a couple of times, both writing this and editing it, when i had to step away from the screen because i could feel a lump in my throat. that had never happened to me before. i didn’t, like, bawl or anything but god i felt it. i don’t know if it’s because it’s my first time killing an oc, someone who was really mine but boy. giulia. i kept trying to find ways not to kill her, or apologising to her. to me, she’s tom’s last victim and that really, fucking hurts. if you’re hurting too, i don’t really know what to tell you. i’m sorry, i suppose. her death was needed for … plot purposes, lol. god, i’m the worst haha.

re:harry/ginny: i must say i really like where they end up, at the end of this. i had planned this to a certain extent. i was always under the impression that they would talk over christmas, but not get back together. however, the reason why they weren’t getting back together, in my head, was initially quite different. i initially didn’t have ginny dating someone else. i think i mentioned i was toying with the idea in the a/n for last chapter, but at the time i wasn’t truly sold on it. then, i ended up writing the scene i’d originally planned for them and it didn’t quite fit. what i’d planned, at the time, felt rather ooc for ginny when actually on paper. on the other hand, harry, under my fingertips, kept trying to kiss her and i kept hitting the delete button. i swear, i know it sounds weird to people who might not be writers but sometimes, your characters really do seem to have their own agendas. when i caved, let him kiss her, then the scene took on a different meaning, and, i hope, a better one. i think something clicked there and it feels like a good place for act one to end. obviously, they’ll get back together cause this follows cannon so you know, not much suspense there. it’s more about the how than the what, to me.

re:ginny’s letters: this idea came to me a while ago, actually. i was thinking that they’d need to talk about what happened last year, but i was kind of struggling on the how. having character a tell a story to character b is always a bit difficult, in writing, because it can quickly end up being boring. like, when ginny tells harry about christmas last year and lupin, in this chapter, telling that in dialogue is already rather long an laborious, and it’s overall such a short story. for harry, it’s easy. i’m in his head so he can just say ‘he told her about the hallows’ and the dialogue can be about their reaction, rather than the events itself. but ginny, she needs to share facts, as well as feelings. and doing that through long monologues just didn’t appeal. first, it’s quickly boring and second, it’s also kind of ooc. she’s not giulia, you see.

i did entertain the idea of completely skimming past it. ‘she told him about last year and he was horrified.’ - moving on. but, i don’t know, that didn’t feel quite right either, because i think they need to exchange, and talk, and that just felt like a copout. also, to be honest, it’s a very difficult story to tell. like, i’ve seen people in fics being like ‘so, harry sat down all of the weasleys and told them everything the trio did in seventh year,’ and i’m like that’s so difficult, though. sitting someone down and telling them all about your trauma, with little preamble, just setting it all out there, i can’t imagine ginny (or, frankly, most people) actually doing that, you know? we reveal bits of ourselves bit by bit, not all at once.

then, it hit me: she’s a writer, isn’t she? at least, she is canonically in first year, with not only the diary but also the poems, then writing for the prophet. obviously, the diary thing would have riled her up a bit but i do think in the end, she would probably have been like: no, i won’t let him take writing away from me, you know? so yeah, letters. daily letters. you won’t see all of them in next chapter, but probably quotes from the most important ones, things that harry reads. that’s where he gets his facts about her story last year, and then they can focus on their feelings about it. fab! something to look forward to, haha.

now, re: the future. as i said, we are entering act two. act two will gradually become more "fun" and fluffy, i suppose, but i won’t lie, we will be keeping the same happy/sad vibe that a lot of you have commented on with this fic. it exists for a reason (as i said, life is about sex, but it’s also about funerals). as i said before, this fic is, above all, an exploration of what ‘all was well’ actually means.

this being said, this isn’t an 8th year fic. there is a very specific future pov from which this fic is being narrated, and that’s in october 2027 (i know, precise). obviously i have 28 years to get through in act two so that will affect the way that the timeline is designed. it will obviously be more spread out, especially in the later chapters. this being said, while i have about a million of ideas for all the space in between and a very clear view of what the last chapter will be, the exact layout of each chapter is still slightly blurry. i haven’t sat down to put all my ideas in chronological order yet, as well as into some sort of chapter structure, which is also why i can’t really tell if it’ll be six or seven chapters in the end. all of this to say, there’s still quite a bit of work to be done.

this means that, as i said in the a/n, i don’t think you’ll get next chapter until at least, may. please don’t think that this means i’ll be abandoning this fic or anything, it’s just that i’ll be doing work you probably won’t see. i’m probably going to take the rest of march off writing to study (bar maybe a roar-series Harry&Hermione friendship one shot? maybe) then take april to plan and write as much of the next chapters i possibly can. ideally, by the end of april i can have a first draft of the whole thing. i desperately want to write as much as i can now that I’m jobless in the hopes that when i do find a job (again, interview tomorrow, pray for me), i can just have editing to do at the weekends. but we all know i relate to harry on a very deep level when he says ‘when have our plans ever worked, anyway?’ so we will see, haha.

anyway, these were all the thoughts off the top of my head, re: this chapter. if you have any questions or other things you’d like me to ramble about, feel free to send in questions, my ask box is always open. i know i probably think about this fic (and hp) way too much but i’m an extrovert and my hobbies used to include travelling, pints at the pub, dating and, well, there’s none of that anymore, is there, lol? the uk has stolen our vaccines (fucking brexit) so here’s to being obsessed with fictional worlds i wish i could live in for a while longer,

i will now go and endlessly refresh my email for reviews and kudos, like the attention seeking basic bitch i am haha.

have a fab evening, everyone!

#castles #is out baby #whoop whoop

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abreathofthewild · 4 years

Text

And They Were Roommates, Chapter 1/?

Summary: After the events of Endgame, the Avengers try to regain a semblance of normalcy. Steve Rogers decides to move to a small town, get a regular job and a regular room mate...

Word Count: 1832

Warnings: mentions of death. some language. some hanky panky (MILD exhibitionism?!??!). Like neck kissing, hip straddling. But not between Steve and reader... yet. Eventual warnings for possible PTSD and traumatic flashbacks. Smut. Oh boy I can’t believe I just wrote that this is going to be a wonderful journal.

Notes: Holy cow I’m actually posting this. This is my first time posting a fic so please be kind? I’m also open to constructive criticism though so yeah. How I’m posting a Steve Rogers fic before a Thor fic is beyond me but I guess ya gotta follow the spark? This literally is based off a dream so it should be interesting?! If I can actually finish it?! I have not seen Endgame (I’m not mentally prepared) but I have a general idea of how it goes and I’m writing things differently. For reasons. I hope you all enjoy! EDIT: I’m so mad at Tumblr I tried to add a tag through mobile and it DELETED THE WHOLE DANG POST FORMATTING AND ALL so here it is again.

Links: Chapter 2

You groaned as you rolled over and blearily felt around for your phone on the nightstand; the display lit up so bright it made your eyes squint in pain. As they finally adjusted to the screen and you saw the numbers 2:43, you felt a familiar anger boil up inside you. That anger spiked when you heard a few thumps and more giggling from the living room. This was the third time this week Steve had brought some random drunk girl home from the bar where he worked. He was a popular guy because he was great at what he did, good-looking too you had to admit. And he was Captain America. He knew he had these qualities though and he flaunted them. For most people, his cockiness was a turn on; for you, it was the exact opposite and made most of the time rooming with him a miserable thing. You rolled over and squeezed your eyes shut, desperately willing sleep to come. Your mind trailed off to when you first met Steve. After the defeat of Thanos and the death of so many, Tony in particular, the Avengers had dispersed; they remained in touch but they all had decided to lead normal lives. As normal as possible anyway.

Steve Rogers? Captain America? He decided to get a regular job at a regular bar in some regular town and move into some regular house. You knew he hurt. Who didn’t? Everyone had lost someone. You… You had lost your sister. She was the one who roomed with you before Steve. Some of her pictures were still on the mantle along with one of the Avengers together. ��You always smiled when you saw those pictures. The one with your sister was her in the snow, her skin flushed a bright red from the cold, her nose and eyes scrunched up as she laughed. That memory was so sweet, still fresh as if you had taken the picture yesterday. She had tripped and fallen face first in the snow. It was deep so it hadn’t hurt her. Instead she had flooded the air with her laughter. The two of you had ended up gasping for breath from hysterics. The one of the Avengers was similar although the focus of their laughter seemed to be Tony Stark’s frown. It wasn’t really a frown though, more as if he was trying to keep a smile off his face. Steve had never told you the story (he never really told you much about that time) but you guessed they were ribbing him for something. The love for each other was evident though. Steve seemed to be the most enthusiastic; his head was thrown back, eyes closed. He was holding his stomach and his golden hair was falling loosely in a wave. It made you smile every time you looked at those.

“Steeeevveee…” A whine came from the living room. Your efforts to go back to sleep were a no-go. All those girls he brought home were so… Not Steve. It made your blood run hot.

“That’s it,” you whispered angrily to no one in particular as you leapt from your bed and stalked down the hall. The was a furry rug running down the length of the floor; you weren’t exactly trying to move quietly. Still, you doubted Steve wouldn’t hear you, either way. At the last minute, something stopped you from rounding the corner. Really, what right did you have to tell him not to bring girls home? This was half his house. You had to be at work in three hours now though, a thought that made you somewhat desperate. You took a deep breath and slowly padded out into the living area.

There was Steve, sitting on the couch (the couch you sat on too sometimes for Christ’s sake). The girl was straddling his lap, her blonde curls loose around her shoulders. Her mini skirt was hiked up to her hips. His arms were at her back and he was kissing her neck; her hands were in his hair and she let out a small moan. You stood frozen in place.

They were completely absorbed in each other, completely oblivious to you standing there gawking. It was an impressive sight to see Steve in action if you were being completely honest with yourself. Then he opened his eyes. You’d looked him in the face before, knew he had pretty blues but this… This was different. They were stunning, intense. And focused on you as the girl he was holding let her head fall back on a sigh. He didn’t stop, just watched you watching him. It made the muscles in your stomach clench. What the hell? You stood straight, shook your head in an attempt to make the haziness leave your brain and cleared your throat. She jumped in his arms but didn’t make any move to get off his lap. She did a half turn to see who was there; you crossed your arms and tapped your foot.

“Look, I don’t wanna be rude and I don’t know if Steve told you but he doesn’t live alone. And I gotta get up for work in the morning. I mean, can you guys just be a little quieter, Steve?” You directed your gaze to him. He watched you lazily but… Your cheeks flushed hot when he kept watching you. Shit… “That’s all I need…” You trailed off awkwardly, frustrated with yourself. He finally looked away and back at her face.

“Gosh, doll, looks like our fun’s over. Maybe some other time?” He smirked, squeezing her hips. He continued smirking as she stared at him in disbelief.

“Look,” she finally said, mirroring your statement with sarcasm, “I don’t wanna be rude but I don’t know who this bitch thinks she is—” Your eyes widened when Steve didn’t even let her finish her sentence as he stood up abruptly, letting her fall indignantly to the cushion next to him.

“That bitch,” he said quietly, “pays half the rent. She’s my roommate. And I won’t have anyone disrespecting her.” Now it was her turn to widen her eyes; her mouth gaped open. Steve stood, imposing, one hand in the pocket of his blue jeans, the other arm extended to the door. The girl stood quickly and grabbed her bag from the coffee table. The door slammed as she left. You crossed your arms and tried to look everywhere but at Steve who still faced away from you.

“Sorry,” you mumbled. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. I just… I have to be there at, like, six—”

“It’s fine.” His shoulders and back flexed; you gulped when he turned around and studied your face. “She shouldn’t have said that.” God those blue eyes. He took a step forward and another when you didn’t back away. Finally, he grinned. “I think you made her jealous. I mean, who wouldn’t be jealous of you? You get to see America’s ass in person every day.” You rolled your eyes. Steve having access to the internet was all at once the worst and best thing. He was fascinated by memes and when it came to memes of himself… well, he could make you sit for hours showing you memes. “Play hooky with me tomorrow, let me make up for how she treated you.” You crossed your arms again and pursed your lips, shook your head.

“No-can-do, Steve. I’m one of the openers. I wouldn’t do that on such short notice.”

“I figured as much. I’ve never seen you call out. I mean, except that one time you were puking your guts out.” Steve smirked, you shuddered.

“Ugh, that was awful. I was so sick! Thank god you didn’t bring anyone here those nights.” You returned his smirk as Steve gave you an expression of mock surprise, throwing his hands up in surrender.

“I don’t bring that many girls home, okay? Besides, I have to drown out the bad memories somewhere.” There was an uncomfortable moment of silence.

“Steve—"

“Plus, you were so miserable. I didn’t want to bother you. I tried to stay scarce those days.” He’d crossed his arms again, and you had to force yourself to keep your eyes on his face instead of how good he looked in that worn white t-shirt of his. His words jarred a memory in you though from the last time you remembered being that sick.

You were fifteen. Your mom had to work the night shift at the hospital. She wasn’t particularly caring anyway. Y/Sister’s name was the one who found you in the bathroom in the middle of the night, laying on the cold tile floor holding your stomach. She had rubbed your back and held your hair back from your face and made sure you drank little bits of water to wash away the gross aftertaste.

“Ssshh,” she had whispered. “It’s all right, you’re okay.” She had helped you back to bed, tucked you in with a bucket on the floor. She had stayed there all night, waiting it out with you. It was the best feeling just knowing someone was there. She was always there for you, even when no one else was…

Tears sprang unbidden to your eyes and you bit your lip. Shit. Shit shit shit.

“I, uh, I gotta go to bed, okay? Um, sorry about tonight. Didn’t mean for it to go that way,” you said again. That quick he closed the space between you; he was so close you could smell the subtle aroma of his cologne, see the way his eyes searched yours. He reached up and brushed a thumb across your cheek, wiping away a tear you hadn’t even noticed falling.

“Please don’t apologize. Can I take you out after you get off?” You looked up at him (you definitely had to look up) and studied his face. He looked so tired. His eyes looked sad. How had you never noticed before? Maybe it was time you paid attention. A small nod.

“Yeah,” you whispered, even though you didn’t even know why you had to whisper. “I get off at 1. Should I meet you?” Steve smiled then. Golden boy. Apollo. The sun.

“Nah, I got this. I’ll pick you up.” Was he always a gentleman like this? A quick hitch of your breath as he leaned forward and spoke close to your ear “Good night, Y/N.” He stood up and slowly brushed passed you heading to the room at the other side of the hall where he saluted you with a grin as he went in and closed his door. He knew. He knew the effect he suddenly was having on you and he was loving it. If you were being honest, you didn’t mind that you were finally acknowledging it.

And now, somehow, you were going to hang out with Steve Rogers tomorrow. You slapped a hand over your mouth to stifle your disbelieving giggle. It felt good.

#inthorantine writes #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers trope #txt #inthorantine #and they were roommates

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lihikainanea · 5 years

Text

The Dangerous Forest Excursion Part 2

Author’s note: I kept very, very quiet about this. I didn’t mention to anyone that I was working on it--I was sneaky, sneaky, sneaky.

Partly because I really was completely fucking devastated when Tumblr deleted the original and I stupidly didn’t have a back up copy, and partly because it was such a daunting task for me--I really, really did think that the original was perfect. And the more I thought about attempting to re-write it, the more I broke out into a cold sweat.

Eventually, though, I decided that I just...couldn’t leave this part unwritten. It’s too important of a juncture in their relationship--it’s the first time tiger realizes what she needs from Bill and asks for it, it’s the first time they incorporate punishment into their dynamic, and it’s the first time Bill starts to understand tiger much better. It was too pivotal to not have still around.

Ultimately, though--I also decided that it was too difficult for me to re-write it as it once was. Because in my brain, my tiresome little perfectionist brain, it would never be on par with the first version--I really do think it was probably my most favourite thing I have written, ever.

The original was posted back in August, and 3 days later--when I was just editing a stupid tag for it--Tumblr just up and deleted the entire thing without a trace. If you were lucky enough to read it while it existed, then I’m glad. It was my peak. But for everyone else, I hope this slightly different version lives up to all of the hype you might have heard about it.

You can read part one of the dangerous forest excursion here. If you have trouble with it, or if you need some hindsight as to where my mind was at, you can read my director’s (author’s?) commentary.

I love you guys. Thank you for your enthusiasm for this two-parter, and your very kind demands that I take another stab at this piece. ***

You hadn’t meant to run, to leave. You hadn’t meant to do the very same thing that had gotten the both of you into this mess to begin with. But it was too much, all of it was too much and it was more than you could handle. It had been days since you had gotten lost in the minefield that was that forest, days since the first promise you ever broke to Bill, days since you were on the receiving end of his fury—fury that was still too fresh in your mind, still weighing on your psyche, still ripping you apart. You didn’t know what was happening, how to make sense of what you were feeling, why his anger was still crushing your chest. Why the guilt you felt from it burned like acid through your veins, why you couldn’t reel your emotions in.

Bill, for as passionate as he was, never carried things for long. He would feel an emotion intensely, let it ruin him for the moment, but when it was done…it was done. He had been furious with you that night, enraged enough to ignore your need for his help. His own emotions had exploded, clawed their way out of him until he was yelling at you… until you used your safe word. He had paused, horrified, stepping outside to regain his composure before coming back in. It was the maddest you had ever seen him, but within a few minutes—after exchanged apologies, softer words—it was done. You were forgiven, and the chapter was closed.

For him.

You still needed more. It weighed too heavily on your mind—his anger, his disappointment in you. You couldn’t put words to it, this feeling of dread still nagging in the back of your mind, this lack of closure over it all. The lack of feeling forgiven.

And maybe that was it, maybe that’s what this ache burning into your mind was. A lack of feeling forgiven. You had done something wrong, put yourself in danger, broken a promise to him, and after a few exchanged words…it was done. You were forgiven. It lacked the depth that you needed, it lacked all of the components that you didn’t know you needed in order to feel forgiven. It lacked…consequence. Your actions had only merited his anger, his disappointment with you, and just as suddenly as they appeared, they had vanished. Without a single consequence.

It felt fake. And even though he told you that he forgave you, even though he made sure you understood, it still somehow lacked the validity you needed. Consequence, you realized, was what you were after. Wrong doings and punishment. Action and consequence. It was the balance that had lacked, and what had played on your mind to make you believe that you still didn’t have his total forgiveness.

You struggled with it, wrestled with the idea. You wanted to bring it up to him, you wanted to ask for his help, but you didn’t know how.You still couldn’t articulate the feeling properly, or tell him what you needed that would help. You wanted consequence, wanted a little absolution, but you didn’t know what that looked like. His words weren’t enough, you needed something a little more…concrete. Physical.

Punishment, you realized, but in that exact form: physical. He had spanked you before but it was strictly under the guise of pleasure, as part of something you both enjoyed, and you didn’t know how he would react to your request to use it as a form of exoneration.You struggled with it, struggled with how to ask for what you needed, and the more the days wore on, the more you withdrew. The more your mind got away on you. And it culminated one night as you were both reading on the couch, when Bill suddenly shut his book and turned to you, taking yours from your hand and placing both on the coffee table.

“Tiger, what is it?” He asked with a heavy sigh, “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” You feigned confusion, but it didn’t work. He rested his hand on top of yours in your lap.

“You know what I mean,” he coaxed, “Something still isn’t right with you. And I need you to be honest with me, so that we can fix it.”

You squirmed, avoiding his gaze and fidgeting. Taking both of your hands in his, he ducked his gaze until he caught your eye.

“Please kid,” he pleaded, “Whatever it is, we can fix it.”

You let out a long sigh, meeting his eyes when he brought your hands to his mouth and kissed them.

“I don’t feel forgiven,” you whispered.

“What?”

“What happened between us. I don’t feel forgiven,” you said, “Bill, I can’t even explain it. I don’t know how. But there is just this….this weight on me, this nagging in my brain. This nagging that needs closure. Somehow. I need something that will just…something that will confirm to me, beyond shadow of a doubt that I’m forgiven. Because right now, I still feel like you’re mad at me. I still feel your disappointment, your anger, I feel everything except your forgiveness and it’s just very…heavy.”

There was a long pause, a lingering silence as he took in your words.

“Tiger,” he started gently, “I’ve forgiven you. It’s done for me. You’re forgiven. You need to know that.”

“I do know that,” you interjected, and he grabbed your face in his hands.

“Say it then,” he ordered. You sighed.

“I’m forgiven,” you mumbled.

“Not just that,” he implored.

“You forgive me,” you clarified, “You forgive me. Bill, I can say it as much as I want. For whatever reason, I don’t feel it. And I need to feel it, for me to be able to put this behind me. I need something to help me feel forgiven. Some form of absolution.”

“And do you know what that is?” He asked. You bit your lip and tried to take back your hands from his, but he held on, “Kid, it’s me. You can ask me for anything, I’ll give it to you.”

“I need you to spank me,” you whispered.

“Okay….is that it? Because tiger, we do that already. If you want more of it, just—”

“Punishment,” you interrupted, “I need you to punish me.”

He went still, releasing your hands from his.

“What?” He asked.

“I need you to punish me,” you repeated, “Action, and consequence. I let you down. I disappointed you, I broke a promise to you. And even though you’ve told me a million times that I’m forgiven, I don’t feel forgiven— because there hasn’t been a consequence. And I need you to give me some proof or confirmation, some kind of consequence to my actions, that cuts through this mess in my head. So that I can move on from it.”

The silence was deafening, and you glanced up from your lap to see his eyes boring into yours.

“No,” he said definitively, “Tiger, no.”

Your chest constricted, your lungs tightening as he stood abruptly from the couch. He paced the living room, raking his hands through his hair as you fought the urge to cry.

“No?” You whispered, and swallowed hard, “Why no?”

“Because,” he spat, “Because just no, tiger. You’re forgiven. I’m not going to hurt you just to prove that to you.”

“You spank me anyway, what’s the big difference? It’s the same thing,” you argued.

“I spank you because you enjoy it, because it gives you pleasure. What’s you’re after is not pleasure kid, it’s pain.”

“I thought I could ask you for anything,” you murmured, and the sob in your throat was threatening to break. You felt humiliated, embarrassed, and foolish for even asking.

“You can,” he stopped his pacing, turning his attention on you as he rubbed his hands over his face,”You can ask me for anything. But this— this isn’t anything. You’re asking me to hurt you because you think you deserve it, all to get confirmation on something you already have. Tiger, you have my forgiveness.”

“I’m asking for absolution,” you tried.

“No, you’re asking for penance. You’re asking for pain,” his voice was thick with barely controlled emotion.

“It’s not pain, Bill,” you tried again, “At least not more than what I can handle. And it would help.”

“No,” he shook his head definitively, “It’s no, tiger. Find some other way to repent, some other way to get the penance you think you need.”

You sniffled, nodding your head as fat tears rolled down your cheeks. The hot flash of embarrassment crept up your chest, burning its way into your mind to join all the other feelings of shame and disappointment you had felt crushing you for days.

You heard him take a deep breath, felt the couch dip under his weight as he sat down beside you and took your hand in his.

“Tiger,” he said softly, “Hurting you is a hard limit for me. I can’t.”

You nodded, swiping at your cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he continued. You shrugged and tried for a half hearted smile, but you knew he saw through it.

“Limits are limits,” you told him, “We both have them. I won’t push yours.”

He nodded, still looking a little unsure, but leaned forward and pressed his lips softly to yours.

And that’s where you had left it. But when the next day felt even heavier, and the one after that was worse, you shut down. You needed…distance. You needed to clear your head, to forget the conversation, to get over your humiliation, try and deal with the mess in your head by yourself. So you sought solace the only way you knew how.

By running.

And so, you fled. You waited until he stepped out for groceries, knowing it was at least an hour there and back each way, giving you enough time to pack up the few things your had taken with you, and be on your way. Not wanting Bill to panic when he couldn’t find you, you took a second to scrawl a note on a torn piece of paper, leaving it on the kitchen table for him to find.

Gone in search of penance. Need space.

I love you,

Tiger

And you grabbed the duffel bag you had packed, and left. The area was remote, no cabs available, but over the course of a few days you had become friendly with some of the fishermen by the harbour. They left in the early afternoon to ride back into town with their haul for the markets, and you planned to hitch a ride with one of them. The wharf was 2 miles from the house, a slightly winding road, but one that was impossible to get lost on. You heaved the bag over your shoulder, and set out.

It took two hours for the calls to start coming in, his name popping up on your screen. You ignored them every time, but the texts followed soon after.

Tiger, where are you?

Are you okay?

Come back, kid. We need to talk about this.

You ignored those too. And once back on the mainland you headed to his apartment for the rest of your things, before getting a cab to the airport to change your flight home for the soonest one available. The texts continued and you ignored them as best you could, but a last desperate plea came in before your plane took off.

I love you, kid. But you can’t keep running.

With a heavy sigh, you shut off your phone.

You only let yourself break when you unlocked the door to your apartment, inside the comfort of your own home it all came crashing down onto you and you let it. You cried as you started a hot shower, kept crying as you brushed your hair out, and cried just that much harder when you pulled one of his shirts on over your head and curled up to try and get some much needed sleep. You hesitated when you reached for your phone, wondering if you should turn it back on and worried at what you might see, but with a deep sigh you caved. The messages were no surprise.

Please kid, come back.

I love you tiger, and I’m sorry.

Sniffling, you shoved the phone under your pillow and tried to sleep. It was in vain and you had a feeling it would be, the night dragging on as you held onto your pillow, your eyes barely closing for longer than a blink. It was too much, it was still too much, and now the added weight of Bill’s refusal to give you what you told him you needed just drove you further into your head. You couldn’t escape it anymore.

You tried to get comfortable, tried to relax enough to just get an ounce of the rest you needed, but it was completely futile. So when the first hints of dawn broke on a sleepless night, you rubbed at your eyes in frustration, wincing as they burned. Resigned to your fate, you threw back the sheets and stood. You eyed your phone as it dinged with a new message, but you left it there on the bed as you went to get a pot of coffee on.

You heard it ping with a message—then again a second later, and on the third one, you sighed and gave up. Reaching for it, the message tugged at something in you.

Tiger, please. I’ll give you space. Just please, kid—send me something to let me know you’re safe. It doesn’t even have to be a word. Just something. I need to know you’re safe.

You knew he meant it, and you knew that he was probably still going out of his mind with worry even though you left a note. You started typing out your response—a brief, curt sentence of just barely two words—but a noise from the front porch stopped you dead in your tracks.

A key. In the lock. The door opening. There was only one other person in the world who had a key to your apartment.

“Tiger!” You heard him bellow, and your blood ran cold. His footsteps thundered up your stairs, taking two and three at a time, and you raced to the front door just in time to slam the deadbolt across. He jammed his key in the lock, turning it and throwing your door open—only to have it come to an abrupt halt when the chain for the bolt caught.

“Tiger, open the fucking door,” he growled, squeezing his hand through to try and undo the chain.

“No, I’m not ready to see you,” you said meekly.

“I don’t give a fuck what you’re ready for kid, we’re going to talk,” he pulled the door forward before pushing it again, trying to jimmy the chain loose.

“No,” you said sternly, but he wasn’t having it.

“We tried it your way kid, now we’re going to do it my way,” he snarled, “Open the fucking door.”

“Go away, Bill,” you pleaded.

You heard his deep breath, followed by the sound of his footsteps retreating down the stairs and the front door slamming. You thought—just for a brief moment—that maybe it worked. Maybe you had convinced him.

Until you heard a commotion from the kitchen.

He had taken a running leap up the side of your apartment, balancing his foot on a drainage pipe for just a second to gain enough height to latch onto the stone ledge beneath your kitchen window. Tossing your screen open, in a feat of incredible strength—God, you forgot how strong he was sometimes—he pulled himself up. You ran to the kitchen just in time to see half of his upper body coming through the window, a leg following close behind and landing in your sink as he folded himself in half, squeezing through the frame. His limbs tangled and he couldn’t get a good angle so you watched, eyes wide, as his other leg came jutting through and he tumbled to the floor in your kitchen.

You stood there, stunned.

He looked up at you from the floor, his eyes blazing, as he slowly pushed himself upright. He didn’t break your gaze, didn’t even blink as he slowly advanced on you. His shoulders square, stretched up to his full height, he towered as he took slow strides towards you. You took one back for every one of his forward.

“Why do you run?” he growled, “Why do you. Always. Run.”

You were powerless, and as if to emphasize his point— because your mind was on survival mode–you turned and bolted. Tried to make it down the hallway but you barely got two steps away before his hand closed on your arm and he hauled you back with a force, slamming your back into the wall. He leaned down to be in your eyesight, placing his palms flat on the wall on either side and glowering at you.

His jaw ticked, and you gulped.

“Tiger, enough,” he growled, “Look at me.”

When you kept your eyes downcast, he took your chin in one of his hands and tilted your head up roughly.

“Look at me, and tell me why you ran,” he said, and it was that tone of voice—that authoritative, commanding tone of voice that even thick with emotion, had your knees almost giving out. The knot, that pit of fire that had been burning in your stomach for over a week, was starting to uncoil. Just barely.

“Because I was scared,” you mumbled, “I was embarrassed.”

“Why?” He demanded, and you looked down for a second before he was wrenching your chin up again “Look at me.”

“Because I asked you for something,” your voice shook and your lip quivered, “Something that I needed, and you told me no.”

“Why did I tell you no?” His eyes bore into yours.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled pathetically, a few tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Tiger.”

“Because you didn’t want to hurt me,” you sniffled. And for the first time, you saw him soften. You felt his warm breath fan over your face as he sighed, releasing the vice grip on your chin to cup your face instead.

“Tiger, do you understand that?” He asked gently, “Why I said no? Why I didn’t want to hurt you?”

“I guess,” you shrugged, “Even though it wouldn’t hurt me. You spank me anyway, and I—”

He placed a finger over your mouth, and you stopped.

“Punishment is different. Punishment implies that I’m inflicting pain on purpose, hurting you on purpose. And I didn’t want to do that,” he said. You huffed, trying to push him away but he didn’t move.

“We had this conversation two days ago Bill,” you snapped, “I’m not having it again.”

“I’m not done,” he put his knee between your legs, placing a flat hand on your chest and keeping you pinned to the wall, “I didn’t want to hurt you. I still don’t. But I…I looked into it a bit more. And I understand a little better now, why you might need this. Some kind of punishment to set your mind back right again. I understand you a little better now.”

“What?”

“Tiger, I don’t need this. I forgave you a long time ago. But I understand why maybe it’s more…complicated, in your mind. Why you’re having more trouble with it. And if you still need what you asked me for, then I’ll give it to you.”

You swallowed hard, meeting his gaze as you struggled to find words.

“You will?” You asked.

“Yes,” he said, and he took your cheek in his hand, “Do you still need it? Will it help?”

“Yes,” you answered without an ounce of hesitation, “Please, Bill. It’ll help.”

He nodded once, bending to press his lips to yours in a lingering kiss.

“Go wait for me on the bed, then. Clothes off,” he took a slow step back, “I’ll be there in a minute.”

It took you a second to realize that he was serious, but then you got your feet under you and pushed off from the wall. You stopped on your way out the kitchen, turning around and walking back to him to pull him in for another kiss.

“Thank you, bud,” you whispered. He nodded again, jutting his chin down the hallway to get you moving again before he lost his nerve.

Once you were out of his sight, he took a few calming breaths—deep and steadying, before heading to the cabinet where you kept your liquor. Finding the Swedish one you never drank, he popped the cap off and downed a gulp right from the bottle before shaking his head to clear the fog. Swiping his thumb across his lip, he headed to your bedroom.

You were sitting cross legged on the bed, waiting for further instructions.

“Come here,” he called you over as he stood at the foot of the bed, “Get on all fours, kid.”

You did as you were told, and his hand stroked up your back. Knowing he’d ask for it, you turned to meet his eyes before the request left his lips.

“Tiger, this is for you. I don’t need this but I understand why you do, and I want to give you what you need.”

You nodded.

“But once it’s done—it’s done. You’re forgiven, and we’ll both put this behind us, okay? Promise me.” He continued.

“Yes,” you agreed, “I promise.”

“You’re going to get 5 kid,” he explained, “Count them out loud. What do you say if you want me to stop?”

“Pineapple,” you said, and your heart was already tripling in beats. You could feel it there—the absolution you needed, the one you craved, right at your fingertips.

“Or?”

“Red,” you replied obediently. He nodded, pushing your top half further into the mattress before reaching for a pillow, placing the corner near your mouth. You looked back at him in confusion.

“To bite down on, if you need to,” he explained, “Ready?”

You nodded. Gritting your teeth, you waited—and when the first strike hit you, your mind went blank. It hurt, it stung a lot more than when he would do it for pleasure, but all you felt was….relief.

“One,” you counted out. The weight, that devastating weight that had been crushing you for days was suddenly….dissolving. Disappearing. His hand pulled back, landing another hard strike on the fleshy part of your ass and you inhaled sharply, melting more into the mattress. You felt all of it—the guilt, the disappointment, the heaviness of the last few days just dissipating, replaced with the sweet resolution that punishment brought. The absence of thought. The quietness of it all, and the lightness of finally feeling forgiven.

“Two,” you squeaked out through gritted teeth. He pulled back, landing another hard one and you gasped, biting into the pillow that he had put for you. The absence of that guilt was giving way to something else, something you hadn’t felt since before you wandered into that forest alone—it was giving way to arousal. To the thrill, the feeling of finally getting what you need from the person you needed it from, the freedom of it all.

“Count, tiger,” his loud order broke through your thoughts, when you failed to call out the following strike.

“Three,” it was a deep groan, pain mixed in with pleasure as you wound your hands in the sheets. It was building, deep in your gut. Coiling tightly as every bad feeling, every bit of anxiety you had struggled with gave way to something much more intense, much more pleasurable.

His hand retracted, landing the hardest one yet as you tensed. Your entire mind was blank, pulsating with nothing but the absolute absence of everything that had been crushing you for so long, the thrumming of pleasure building. He knew, and he marvelled at it—he could smell your arousal, see the sheen of it between your legs as he brought his hand down hard. He saw the blush creep down your back, felt your muscles tense as you writhed slightly before him, saw the way you inched your legs closer together.

“Four,” you mumbled. Somewhere in the midst of it all, you had started to cry. It wasn’t out of pain, but out of just…relief. Tears soaked the pillow and you winced, but the pain brought the peace that you knew it would. The peace that you needed, the pleasure you craved, the relief.

He pulled his hand back a final time, landing it with a resounding slap as your back arched.

“Five,” you breathed out, and then you were being gathered in his arms.

“Good girl,” he murmured, “We’re done kid, we’re done.”

Wrapping you up in his embrace, he gently flipped you onto your back as you cried openly. He waited for your move, tried to see if you would reach for him or if you needed distance, but your hands immediately sought him out—grabbing at him until you had enough traction to pull him forward onto you.

“Bill,” you pleaded, grasping onto him as hard as you could, “Please…”

He knew what you needed, what you were asking for. He watched you as he glided his hand up your inner thigh, taking his time to gauge your reaction to make sure it was what you wanted, what you needed. You inhaled sharply when his fingers passed over you, stifling a moan as he ran them through your wetness, spreading you wide.

“Tiger, look at me,” he whispered as he kissed a few of your tears away. He ran his hand gently over your slit, pushing two fingers into you as you groaned. You opened your eyes to his.

“It’s done kid,” he pumped his fingers gently, “You’re forgiven.”

He crooked his fingers and you stifled a cry as he pressed them to the front of your walls, rubbing gentle circles. You were so wet, your arousal soaking his hand as he ground his palm into you. You were overwhelmed, every sense on fire—you could feel his fingers, long and slender, moving inside you. You could hear the obscene sound, wet and warm, as he moved his hand against you. You could smell him, feel his lips on your face, his warm breath on your cheek. You felt everything good, everything that had nothing to do with the emotions that had crushed you before.

“Bill…” you croaked, and he shushed you lightly.

“I know, sweet girl,” he praised. You cried out as his thumb found your clit, pressing down softly as his fingers continued to work you over.

“You did so well for me kid,” he purred, “You took it so well. And it’s done now. I forgive you.”

You sobbed as his fingers quickened just barely, hitting all the spots deep in you as you writhed. But you wanted more—you wanted to be greedy, ask for just a little bit more, to throw you over the edge.

“You can come for me, tiger,” he murmured as he kissed you, “Any time you need to.”

But you grit your teeth, tried to stave it off as you grabbed his hand between your legs to stay it.

“With you,” you begged, your voice cracking, “Please Bill, I want to come with you.”

His eyes flicked over you, his gaze intense and searching—but then he kissed you again, all tongue and teeth and passion, before gently removing his hand. You whimpered as he brought it to his lips, sucking both fingers into his mouth as he groaned at your taste. He raised up on his haunches, undoing his pants and shoving them to his knees before he made a move for you again, but you rested your hands on his chest.

“All of it, bud,” you pleaded, “Please, I need to feel as much of you as I can.”

You didn’t have to ask twice, he kicked his pants the rest of the way off and lifted a bit to pull his shirt over his head before he was reaching for you again. You kissed him hard, grabbing hold of his length and lining him up at your entrance as he pushed in slowly. Moaning, he grabbed your hand as he rested his forehead against yours.

“Tiger,” he moaned against your lips, “You’re forgiven.”

Your other hand raked down his back and he jerked forward, as your abdomen tightened in impending release.

“Yes,” you sighed against his mouth, keeping his gaze.

“Do you feel it now?” He whispered, “Is it more clear now?”

He kept his pace, his hips slowly rolling into you before dragging back in delicious friction, then pushing forward again.

“Yes,” you whimpered, closing your eyes for a brief second to capture his lips in a searing kiss.

“Say it,” he urged, sucking his breath in through his teeth when you clenched around him, “God you feel so good. Say it for me, kid.”

“You forgive me,” you cried, bringing a hand up to rake through his hair. His eyes stayed on you the entire time, green orbs bore into you as your muscles started to tighten, your breath started to hitch.

“Good girl,” he praised. He rolled his hips with a bit more force, burying himself deep inside you as you gasped. You tilted your chin up, shutting your eyes briefly as the pleasure slammed into you.

“Keep looking at me, tiger,” he pleaded, and with a gentle hand he brought your face back to his, “I want to see it, when you come for me.”

You whined, a pathetic whimper as you felt everything start to clench. You were so wet, so warm around him, and every time he pushed forward he rubbed further down on your clit. The pressure was building, your stomach tense and tight as everything started to go blank.

“Let go, sweet girl,” he coaxed, “Give it to me.”

And with your chin in his hand, his forehead on yours and your eyes locked with his, you let it slam into you. The white, hot flash of extreme pleasure, building for a few days and culminating in an intense release. It was emotions, it was physical, it was everything you had held way too deep inside for a few days. You cried out, clenching your teeth and eventually closing your eyes as you spasmed around him, surging forward. You bit into his shoulder to hold back a scream, your hand squeezing his as you let out a guttural groan when all of your muscles released. His own resonated in your ear soon after as he pitched forward, driving you hard into the mattress as his hips worked against yours. He moaned, his breath coming in rasps as he held onto your hand, the other one gripping the sheets. A few more thrusts, slow and lazy but deep enough to still have you pleasure drunk, and he collapsed breathless on top of you.

You laid there for a long moment, all of your limbs wrapped around him as tears flowed freely down your face. It was silent except for your cries, small sniffles and whimpers that you couldn’t control, as you buried your face in his chest.

“I love you, kid,” he murmured in your ear, “It’s done now. Yes?”

“Yes,” you nodded emphatically, kissing any part of him you could reach, “It’s done.”

He raised slightly, kissing first your ear, then peppering them along your jaw eventually resting his lips on yours for a soft kiss.

“You feel forgiven?” He asked.

“Yes,” you sighed, tilting up to kiss him again, “Yes.”

“Good,” he rested his forehead lightly against yours, stroking your cheek with his thumb. You reached your mouth for it, kissing it lightly and nipping the pad of it playfully. He laughed, pulling you into his chest as he rolled over onto his side. But then you remembered something, something you had wanted to ask him about, and your brow creased with confusion.

“Bill,” you started, his thumb still resting on your mouth and warbling your speech, “Before, you said that you…looked into this more. And that you understood it better now. What did you mean?”

His lips pursed thoughtfully as he contemplated his response.

“I just read up on some stuff,” he murmured.

“What stuff?” You prodded. He sighed.

“I just read up on…subs. Submissive dynamics,” he explained cautiously, “And what they need. How guilt and punishment comes into play, and why it’s sometimes necessary. For them to feel better.”

“Oh.”

He eyed you carefully, tapping his thumb against your lips and you opened for it readily. You took a second, sucking on the pad of it and looking up at him.

“But…I’m not a sub,” you said, your words muffled as you sucked on it. A wry smile quirked up the tips of his mouth.

“Okay,” he acquiesced. You adjusted his thumb in your mouth, using your tongue to push it into your cheek as you glared at him.

“Bill, I’m not a sub,” you insisted. He nodded, his lips twitching as he fought to conceal a smile.

“Right,” he said, “You’re not a sub.”

Satisfied with his response even though it was slightly insincere, you moved forward to tuck your head under his chin as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Thank you, bud,” you mumbled. He kissed your head, stroking your back.

“I need to check you over kid,” he murmured, “Make sure you’re okay.”

“We have a lot of time,” you mumbled, your eyes getting heavy, “Right now, just keep holding me.”

His arms tightened around you, a hand weaving its way into your hair, as you finally exhaled for the first time in days.

#BFF!Bill #sub tiger #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard fic #bill skarsgard drabble

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neopuff · 4 years

Note

hello, i hope you're having a good day!! i was wondering, do you have any tips for making amvs? like, what programmes you use, how you handle the timing, etc. thank you for all the fun edits you make!!

hi!! sorry for the delay in answering this, i just wanted to take the time to answer it thoroughly and i kept forgetting lol & thank you! i already typed this once and tumblr made it disappear so i apologize if anything i say comes out short ‘cause i’m just trying to remember all that i typed before lol

ok so ill just go through my general editing process in Vegas, i dont know any other program well enough to talk about it at length:

(disclaimer: this is just how i do it, i dont watch tutorials and my editing friends and i don’t watch each other edit often so i would assume that my way is very different from other ways you’ve probably seen! i might even do something in a very stupidly hard way, please feel free to tell me if theres an easier way to do anything lol)

1. Song: So skipping past the “choosing song and ship/character/show” theme, I’ll dive straight into CUTTING THE SONG! I’m not about that Editing The Entire Song life, and neither is most of the editing community anymore, so I cut it up into a shorter thing that I’m better equipped to edit to. I’m just using a random example but here I’ve taken this long ass song and turned it into this:

(the next step just kind of depends on my mood, or ill do both, doesnt matter)

2-A. Subclips: if im making a shorter video or a video where i’m not 100% super familiar with the footage, i will immediately start making subclips using the episodes ive already pulled into the project. if it’s a ship/character that i’ve edited before, i’ll just go to Import->Media from Project and import the subclips i made previously. either way, subclips are there!

2-B. Sheets: for ships that i know very well/have a lot of footage/im concerned about potentially repeating something, i will go to Google Sheets/Excel and take the lyrics im editing to and put them in column A, separating by pauses in the singing. then i put corresponding footage i think will go well in column B! im often not super specific because i know the beats are gonna be different than i remember, so i usually stick to referencing whole scenes instead of specifics moments. here’s an example:

3. Clip placement: Then I start placing clips down! Below is how I organize my timeline tho I know a lot of editors who put the music on top, this is just how I like it. I also keep a single muted audio layer in between for the video footage’s audio and then I’ll delete that layer when I’m done (or sometimes I don’t, it doesn’t really matter)

I think it’s good to hit the beats as much as possible, it makes for a more dynamic audio-visual experience! In general I try to make my videos so that, if I didn’t add any zooms or typography or coloring, it would still be a good amv. And don’t limit yourself to just one layer, you can have as many layers as you’d like and put clips on top of each other (cookie cutter/changing the layer to dodge or add or screen or whatever) is a good way to mix things up

when I zoom in you can see I’ve got some variety already in my transitions, I know I use that motion-blur-zoom a lot these days but I still try to mix it up and keep my brain invested

4. Typography: After all the clips have been placed (or most of the clips, ofc sometimes I’ll want to add more later) I move on to typography! I’m lazy so the first thing I’ll do it just put down unedited text where I think I’ll want it to go. It just helps me organize myself. Then I’ll pretty up the text afterwards.

Typography isn’t necessary for a good AMV, but really nice typography can really spruce things up. I’ve only very recently gotten confident in my text editing skills, and I just kept watching typography done by editors I really like until I figured out what they were doing. My recommendation is to just KEEP ADDING EFFECTS! Convolution kernel, gaussian blur, mask the text so it appears from angles that the transitions wouldn’t be able to do - of course there’s gotta be a limit for taste, but just add stuff until you like how it looks. Also changing the blending style of the text layer is good, dodge and difference are my go-tos for typography layers.

5. Transitions: I don’t go crazy with transitions, but it’s fun to mess around with them. You don’t want too many crazy/different transitions, you want them to match the mood of the song and the type of beat you’re hitting. I usually ensure that all similar beats in the song have the same transition type on them, bbbbbbut that’s cuz I’m overly obsessed with parallel structure. There’s plenty of fantastic AMVs where they just go ham and do whatever types of transitions they want to in each part of the song and they make it work just fine

(next step, once again, kind of depends on my mood lol)

6-A. Zooms: Time for zooms! I usually just use the pan/crop for zooming, but often I’ll incorporate Sapphire FX BlurMoCurves or NewBlue AutoPan, especially if I’m trying to zoom typography with the footage at the same rate. I try to keep my zooms short and slower, I mean obv it just depends on the song but yeah. There’s a lot of different ways to do zooms so I recommend experimenting and just playing around with different effects

6-B. Zooms...but different: Another way that I’ll do zooms which is definitely pretty different (but this is what I do for crossovers like 95% of the time because I am laaaaaaaaaaazy) is I’ll drag the project into a new project timeline and start editing it there. It’s similar to how After Effects works and it makes it easier to put effects overtop of multiple layers without having to pre-render anything.

So you can see I’ve just pulled in the .VEG file and popped it in the timeline! So this way I can add zooms and transitions without worrying about layers. And if I see a mistake I need to fix, I can just go back into the original .VEG file and edit it, and it’ll be edited when I come back here. So it’s much easier than pre-rendering or trying to do zooms on a lot of layers. To be clear tho, this doesn’t work well if you have a lot of fade transitions, it’s best for sharp transitions and it’s great when you’re using Sapphire FX BlurMoCurves a lot.

7. Overlays: After that I’ll add more typography (or if you didn’t add any earlier, you can add some here overtop of the new project file) that kind of goes on top of everything. And then I’ll add any overlays or objects or whatever else I wanna add! I’m not someone who uses a lot of backgrounds cuz I don’t have a background-creative-brain so I stick to simple overlays at the most.

8. Coloring!!! This is very sad but I only JUST learned a few weeks ago that you can add coloring/effects to your entire video with this button here, so in case anyone else hates watching tutorials as much as I do here’s where I’m talking about:

This shit would’ve made my life so much easier throughout the years lol But alas. Anyway so for coloring there are some effects that are popular for any colorings you’ll find on YT (but you can certainly just download some, Riverdale editors in particular share a lot of really great colorings but you’ll find them anywhere in the live action editing community):

Channel Blend, Color Curves, Color Blend, Color Balance, Convolution Kernel (best for live action footage or footage that isnt very crisp), Color Corrector Secondary

These are all just fun to mess with. Channel Blend in particular is something of a mystery for me, I haven’t studied it fully to understand what I’m doing so I mostly just mess with it randomly until I like what I see lol

9. Render time! First render, anyway. Usually there’ll be some random problem in the footage or something and I’ll have to either go back into the project and fix it OR if I’m feeling particularly sour (or maybe if I’ve rendered like 3-4 times already) I will just take the finished render and manually remove any errors, stretching out the good footage to cover my tracks. You’d be surprised how often I end up doing that lol

And then it’s good to post! I primarily render as .WMV but I also go for .MP4s every once in a while. If I want to upload it to Twitter I’ll do an .MP4 but it’s a new thing for me so I’m still stuck on .WMV mostly.

Anyway I hope this answered your question at least a little bit, I can go into more detail about certain parts of this if you’d like!

#anon asks #carro answers #sony vegas #magix vegas #editing #long post

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lydia-bell · 5 years

Text

4200 words of headcanon for Strand and Charlie, because I am not a reasonable human being

Inspired by @coffeesuperhero's great post about Strand’s timeline and raising Charlie, I decided to post this. I wrote it as background for a huge AU I’ve been working on where The Black Tapes was cancelled after Season 2 because after Coralee’s return and Strand learning of all the ways he’d been manipulated, he decided he needed to concentrate on putting his life back together and just couldn’t do the show anymore. I have no idea if that story will ever see the light of day, but I’ve developed a LOT of headcanon in the process of kinda sorta writing it, so I might as well share some of it. :)

Strand would have guessed that he'd feel relief when the podcast was over. And he did, in the sense that he would no longer be having details of his personal life put on the Internet for all to hear. He was dreading what would happen when this episode was done being edited and uploaded. He could imagine all of those paranormal charlatans getting a kick out of it; Richard Strand is so closed off to anything he doesn't understand, so arrogant to those who believe, that he drove his own wife away!

Fortunately, he'd had a great deal of practice not caring about what those people thought of him. Though he did cringe to imagine Tannis Braun making a great show of being caring and concerned. Oh, he would mean it in his way, but—well, that was his brand, wasn't it? People who are trying to sell something can easily cultivate an air of gentleness and empathy. After all, they never have to tell any hard truths.

But Tannis Braun didn't matter. None of them mattered. The only ones who mattered were Thomas Warren and the rest of his cult, who had sent him a spy as a wife and then taken her away. Who had been monitoring him his entire adult life, manipulating him into a marriage and jobs to do it.

He hadn’t intended to hurt Alex’s feelings, but yes, he was relieved to be finished with the podcast. But he had to admit that doing it had provided him with a certain structure, and, if he was very honest with himself, some forward momentum that he might have had trouble sustaining on his own. They’d learned more in the past two years than he had in the previous 15, and there was a reason for that.

He supposed he should have said something to her while she was here. Well. Perhaps they’d meet up for lunch sometime, as she’d mentioned. In his experience, these promises were typically hollow, but it was possible.

He took off his jacket and tie and cleared away their teacups. He considered having another cup but decided on a drink instead. After pouring himself a generous whiskey, he turned off the lights on the main floor and went down to the basement. He was going to have to provide all of the organization and momentum for his inquiries now, and he should get to it. And since Alex wasn't going to be coming by anymore, he had a few more items to put up on the wall.

Like the cases Coralee had brought to his attention after leading him to the Empress Hotel. The information on Thomas Warren's background, his family history tracing back to eastern Ohio. The history of the Howland family, also from eastern Ohio. The next thing he needed to do was talk to Cheryl, and he was grateful that he wouldn't have an audience for that. As it was, he was relying on Cheryl extending him some residual goodwill out of guilt for having once believed he might have killed Coralee, but that wouldn't last. He'd put out feelers with some of those genealogy services, inquiring into both sides of his own family and into Warren's, and the results were...well. He was glad he wouldn't have Alex jumping to conclusions about how just because their families founded towns 20 miles apart in the early 19th century, this must be the key to everything.

That willingness to follow what you claimed were meaningless coincidences is what got you here today, part of his brain argued, but he ignored it. He could be open to possibilities without being willing to accept anything and everything that seemed to offer an explanation.

He was also glad Alex wouldn't be around to air his eventual talk with Charlie.

He knew he needed to call her. But what could he say? "I didn't drive your mother away after all"? But in a real way, he had. "I'm sorry I wasted time with some stupid idea that I could find her with psychic abilities instead of doing something useful and taking care of you?" That might help. He had apologized, after he'd given up looking, after Charlie had left, but it was too late then; how could it matter now, 18 years later? But maybe. He could say it again, if she needed it. At least maybe she could understand a little better what had driven him.

He didn't know what time zone she was in right now, so no, he wouldn't call. Or text, even—he didn't want to wake her in the middle of the night; he didn't want to do anything to upset her at all. Email, then. She'd allowed June to give him the address and even answered as long as he didn't use it too often. He went back upstairs and opened up his laptop.

Charlie,

I didn't want to call or text because I don't know what time it is where you are, but I need to talk to you. I have news

.... what could he say? "I have news about your mother?" "about Coralee?" "Coralee's alive."

The podcast was going to air soon; there was no need to keep it a secret, even if his communications were being monitored (and Coralee was right, it was possible). The straightforward way, then. He deleted the last three words and went on:

I saw Coralee today.

She came to me. She said it was because I was in danger and she was trying to keep me safe. I don't know if you've ever listened to the Black Tapes, but this organization we've been investigating, this cult... she's part of it, or she was. She was part of it when she met me. Over time, she came to realize that they were doing things she couldn't support. So when we fought that day on the drive to Big Sur, when she walked off and we couldn't find each other, she took it as an opportunity to get away from them. To disappear. She thought she would be able to come back when she found the evidence she needed to stop them, but the more time passed, the harder it was to come back.

I know this all seems insane, and there's no particular reason you should believe me, except that you have to know I've never lied to you. Whatever my other failings as a parent were, I never lied to you, not once. And I'm not asking you for anything, but I thought you should know. She's alive, she left by her own choice, and she wanted to come back but she never felt that she could.

And she told me to tell you that she loved you. For what it's worth, I think that's true too.

Call me any time, if you'd like. I know this is a lot to take in. Believe me, I know. But at least we can stop wondering. That has to be worth something.

He struggled with signing it, as he always had. "Love," she didn't want. "Sincerely," though true, was something you'd say to a stranger. What was it that he really wanted to say to her? So many things, but this would do.

I hope you're well.

Take care,

Richard

He didn't give himself even a second to hesitate before hitting "Send" and pushing the laptop away. It was the right thing. Charlie deserved to know; she had every right to know. He was sure she'd have questions, and he doubted he'd have any satisfactory answers, but he was willing to try.

He refilled his whiskey. He wished he had someone to talk to about all this. He thought for a moment about calling Alex, but he'd been the one who ended that association. He'd just taken her show away from her. He could hardly expect to lean on her after that.

Maybe he just needed to take his mind off of everything for a while. He could watch a movie, read a book...nothing sounded satisfying, though. He thought about calling the Jacobsons, but no—they could find out from Charlie. He wasn't proud of himself--they were Coralee's parents, and they had a right to know their daughter was alive—but after all these years, when they'd never accepted him even before Coralee's disappearance, never treated him with more than a distant cordiality (and often with less), never considered him part of their family, he'd finally had enough. Their daughter was alive, they didn't need to look for her anymore, and with that, his last tie to them was gone. You'd have thought that finding her alive would make them more connected, not less, but missing her, wondering about her, had been the only thing they'd had in common. They still didn't have her, any of them. So there was nothing between them. They could find out from Charlie.

But that still left him with nothing to do. The research materials for his book were still stacked on his desk, but he could no more imagine going back to that book than he could becoming a monk. He needed to speak with Jenna about pushing the deadline back.

He also had to decide if he was going to stay in Seattle. The house still wasn't anywhere near ready to be sold, but given that he'd finished his lecturing position (it seemed only fair to the students, even if he'd never take a job there again now that he knew who was behind it) and ended the podcast, there didn't seem to be much reason to stay.

Except that it was still his father's house, and his father had worked at the university for two decades before he died, and he still had so many questions about his father's role in all of the cult nonsense that had taken over his life. He didn't like the coincidence of his family having connections to the Pacific Northwest and Alex happening, independently of that, to include him in her podcast, but as far as he could tell it had in fact been a coincidence. She'd explained how she'd ended up calling him, and they both agreed that they couldn't see any way for Warren or anyone else to have manipulated events toward that end. She and Nic had brainstormed professions one day, and Alex had been the one to bring up "ghost hunter" because she'd seen a show on TV a few nights before. And from there, it was logical that his name would come up, as he was roundly despised in the charlatan community.

No, it really had been a coincidence. He didn't actually like coincidences any more than anyone else; he was just able to accept, unlike most people, that in a world with so many possibilities, low-probability events will happen sometimes.

Of course, he'd thought meeting Coralee was a coincidence, or at least, happy chance. But he was damned if he was going to let this cult nonsense turn him into the kind of person who ascribed patterns and meanings and intent to everything he couldn't explain. That way lay madness and religion.

Still, if he meant to start his life over on his own terms, it might be best to leave this place he'd never really chosen. But not yet. There were more answers to be found here first. About his father, and about Thomas Warren.

____________________________________________________________

Charlie called him at 7 the next morning. She traveled a lot, so she always remembered to take time zones into account, but she clearly wasn't willing to wait one more second than necessary for her answers.

"Hello?"

"Yeah, It's Charlie."

There was a brief pause as neither one of them knew quite how to start before Charlie burst out, "Just.... what the hell?"

He sighed. "It's a lot to take in, I know."

"But she's really alive?"

"Yes."

"And she just...left?"

"It was more complicated than that, but, yes. Ultimately, she made the decision to remain missing."

"I don't... why? Why would she do that?" she sounded so young that he could almost imagine putting his arms around her and letting her cry into his shirt like she did when she was small. When he was still her dad. Before everything fell apart.

But he couldn't do that, so he gave her the only comfort he had to offer. He told her the truth, all of it, everything Coralee had told him, everything he had told Alex. When he finished, and she spoke again, it was with tears choking her voice. "So all of it, the marriage, her being my mom, it was all a lie."

"I don't know. I'm still trying to understand how much was the cult, and Coralee doing what she thought was her duty, and how much she genuinely felt." He almost said "I really do think she loved you" but stopped himself, because what kind of loving parent walks away from a child? But Marie had. She'd been ill, and she might well have made the right choice, but it was still a choice. And for that to have happened to Charlie not once, but twice, was so unfair that his chest burned with it. And if he was honest, it had really been three. He'd told himself that leaving had been Charlie's decision, and it had, but she'd been fifteen. He should have tried harder. He should have insisted. He should have shown her that she was wrong, that she did have a father. Instead, he'd proven her right.

"I don't know how much I really give a shit," Charlie said. She sounded drained.

"That's understandable," he agreed.

"So, what happens now? She left again? Is she coming back? Is she—are you still married?"

"Legally, yes, as far as I know we are. But I don't think she's coming back."

"Because she has to fight this cult. The one that thinks you have some kind of special gene that they need. Do I have it? I mean, whatever it is, are they going to be coming after me too? Or Aunt Cheryl?"

"Coralee didn't think so. She had some idea that it might be sex-linked in some way, but regardless, they don't seem to be after you."

"Great." She took a deep breath and sighed. "Well, I guess the good news is, this can't make the family reunions any more awkward."

He chuckled, despite everything. "How have you been?"

"I'm fine. You?"

"There's been a lot happening."

"Yeah, no shit. So is all this going to be on the podcast?"

"Yes. There's one more episode, and then it's done. I decided not to continue."

"Good. I hated that, having all those people in our business."

"I did, too. But without the podcast, I don't know if I ever would have heard from Coralee."

"I guess." She paused. "Look, I need to go. I've got a conference call in about five minutes. Maybe... I don't know. I'll try calling back later on, or emailing, or something."

"I understand," he said, because what else could he say?

____________________________________________________________

To his surprise—he hadn't let himself get his hopes up—she did email him a few days later. As with all of her emails to him, it bore no salutation. Perhaps she didn't know how to address him, or maybe it was just her style.

So I said I'd email, so here I am, but I'm not sure what else I really have to say. Thanks, I guess, for telling me personally. Finding out on Facebook or whatever would have been...well, I would have hated it. And I guess you're right, that knowing is better than not knowing.

If you're hoping that I'll stop being angry with you now that I know what really happened...I guess? It wasn't your fault, I get that. But I've been thinking about what might have been different if I had known then. And I think I still would have left. Because, I don't know, I didn't feel like we were really a family.

I don't have a lot of clear memories of back when it was just you and me. But when you met Coralee, I guess I expected us to be one of those happy TV families, you know? We'd play Monopoly and go to Disney World and whatever, I don't know. Go camping, make S'mores? Stuff families do together.

And you seemed so happy with her, but it felt like, once she was there, you kind of had permission to check out. To spend more time at work, less time talking with me or asking about what I was doing or playing silly games or any of it. You weren't bad, you made sure I had everything I needed and you met with my teachers and you did everything that was your duty, and I know that's more than a lot of people get. And I know it was hard to raise me on your own and maybe you'd just...had enough. But I felt more like your ward than your daughter. Like you loved me but in this abstract way, the way people love their country or something.

So I went to live with grandma and granddad, and at least they were happy to have me around, and having me around seemed to help them even though they were grieving too, you know? And I didn't feel that way with you. And after a while I just stayed. That was my home, I enrolled in school, and you hadn't exactly moved heaven and earth to get me back. I found out from Alex that granddad told you I'd asked to be emancipated. I didn't. I guess he figured he needed to keep me away from you because you were maybe a murderer (and definitely an atheist). But that was a shitty way to do it, and I've told him that.

Still...I listened to the last episode, and you told Alex that when Coralee disappeared, it threatened to take away everything that was good in your life. Like I didn't exist! Or just didn't really matter to your life, except that you'd gotten some woman pregnant and felt like you had to take responsibility for your mistake.

I don't know why I'm saying all this. I guess it's just that for all this time, I've let my anger over Coralee's disappearance be how I avoided thinking about the stuff I was unhappy about before then. And none of that's changed. But yeah, I can let go of being angry with you about what happened with her, about the fights and the days after she disappeared and all of that. I just don't know what that means about what comes next. If anything. I don't think you're a bad person. I really don't. I just wish things had been different when I was a kid. But I'm not 15 years old any more either, you know? So maybe I can work on it. Or we can go on the way we are. I'm fine. I'm happy. I have a good life.

Anyway. That's where I'm at. Just so you know, I'm going to be in Europe for most of the next three weeks, so there's an eight-hour time difference. Also it's a work trip, so I'm not sure how much time I'll have. I'm not bailing, just letting you know why I might not be all that communicative.

Charlie

He'd never thought that he could ever again cry as hard as he had when Coralee disappeared—or when she returned. He'd been wrong.

____________________________________________________________

Charlie,

I appreciate your honesty in your last email. I know it can't have been easy to write that. And I know that I have had my failings as a father. It's not an excuse, but I hope you'll allow me to explain some of why that is.

You mentioned that it must have been difficult raising you on my own. And it was, but not because I didn't love you. I just didn't know what I was doing, and I had very little guidance. My mother was dead, I still hated my father for not being there when she died, and certainly my friends had no more more idea than I had. Men weren't expected to be single parents then—I suppose it's unusual even now—so I never really felt comfortable with the mothers watching their children at the playground and that sort of thing. I didn't belong there. Marie's parents—well, let's just say they never softened toward you even after you were born. So it was just the two of us. And when all you needed were the basics of life, I could make that work. But as you got older and I realized I was going to have to not just keep you fed and dressed but navigate discipline, making friends, and basically raising a full-fledged human being, I didn't have confidence in my ability to do all that successfully. I loved my mother, and she was good to us, so I tried to follow her example. But so much of what she did was influenced by the times—and by my father, and he was someone I didn't want to emulate.

When I met Coralee, I was relieved because even though her own upbringing was obviously less than ideal, she was warm and patient and kind and seemed to know exactly the right thing to do or say when you had a problem. I think that even if I had felt less strongly about her, I might have considered marrying her just because you deserved to have a parent like that. And you adored her. It wasn't long before it felt like you were more her child than mine. She understood you better, she was more affectionate...and you were thriving. She was the one you turned to, more often than not, when you needed something or had something exciting to share.

When I write it out like that, it sounds as if I pulled away from you because I was jealous of your relationship with Coralee, but that wasn't it at all. I was thrilled for you. I think that I just didn't feel quite so necessary anymore. And nurturing isn't something that comes naturally to me. I took care of my mother when she was ill, and I always felt awkward and out of place and like I was doing something wrong. That ability to understand how someone is feeling, and to know what they need—I tried, I really did. And I tried with you too, but I got it wrong so often. So when you had a mother who could give you that, I reverted to doing the parts of parenting that I felt more capable of: I supported you, I helped you with school, I set rules. I though it was a partnership that worked. You seemed happy, in general.

I can't plead complete ignorance, though. I knew that you wanted more of my time (at least, until you didn't want any of it, which I thought was a normal teenage phase but perhaps not). I don't have a good excuse. I got caught up in my work. It was fascinating and I was committed to it, and in academia, devoting all your time to your work was how you showed you were committed to it. It still is. I'm sorry that I let my career get in the way of giving you what you needed. As I said, I don't have an excuse. It was wrong, and it wasn't fair to you.

I do want to clear one thing up. What I said to Alex about losing everything good in my life—I wasn't just talking about Coralee. I was talking about our family. I was afraid that without her, there would be no center. I didn't see how I could hold the two of us together. And part of it, yes, is that I felt I didn't really know you well enough anymore. I think to some extent that's a fairly common phenomenon among teenagers and parents, but certainly I contributed to it as well. It was never that you didn't matter to me, Charlie. That could never be true. I sit here trying to imagine it, and it's incomprehensible. You're my daughter. You will always matter. I'm sorry that I didn't try harder to keep you with me after Coralee left. I told myself that I was doing what you wanted, that you were happier with your grandparents. I thought maybe it was just as well that I was alone, because I'd driven away the most important people in my life. But if I let you think that I didn't want you to stay, I can only apologize, because nothing could be further from the truth. No matter what Lawrence told me, I should have tried harder to show you that.

I hope you have a safe trip. Call or email me if you'd like, but if it doesn't work out, I'll understand.

Yours, Richard

And in this way, they took the first tentative steps toward having a relationship again. Nothing could change the past 20 years, but they didn't have to be bound by them for the next 20, and remembering that allowed them to move forward.

#tbtp #the black tapes podcast #fic #sort of #I just have a lot of thoughts about Strand's history OK?

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andrcs · 5 years

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hey friends waddup ! i’m jen , just turned 23 ( n am already feelin it ) , from the gmt-2 tmz , n i go by she/her pronouns . i had about , like , half an hour of sleep today n i’m actually redoing this entire intro because as i was editing the finished version to post it , i accidentally deleted the whole thing n tumblr wouldnt let me have it back ! it’s fine i’m fine :-) anywho i’m gonna let yall go n learn a lil more about our friend andre ! hopefully u like him but if u don’t thats ok bc sometimes i don’t either !!

𝐈. 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐒 :

𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 : andre harris solomon .

𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 : n/a .

𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 : august fourth , 1991 .

𝐳𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐜 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧 : leo .

𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 : cco of solo conglomerate .

𝐈𝐈. 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 :

during the solomon’s dynasty , the family had its fair share of tumbles and quite a few scandals . great uncle abel being arrested after trying to steal half his brother’s fortune was one was a big example . may god bless the traitous bastard’s soul . also cousin denzel , declaring in the middle of thanksgiving dinner he wanted to be a opera singer , of all fucking things , and giving grandpa harrison an almost stroke , could be counted . no matter what , though , nothing prepared the family to watch the solomon fortune’s heiress coming home on her christmas break during her freshman year in college with a baby bump and no father to claim the child she carried .

in the following years , with the slightly judgemental help of all of her closest relatives , but most of all , the never ending support of her parents , gaia solomon managed not only to get her college diploma , enter the family business and help solo grow into the biggest media conglomerate of the western hemisphere , one that had a solid hand over pretty much all aspects of media and entertainment . chances are if you wanted to publish or sign a record label deal or be on a tv show , sooner or later you would encounter someone from solo . but she had also manage to raise with the utmost love and care , no lack of sacrifices , and a healthy amount of ear-pulling , a man she can’t help to be most proud of .

andre solomon never knew who his father was , or cared to . and as far as his mother was concerned , he didn’t have a father . as a child , he never felt like he was missing anything in life , there was no angry void aching to be filled , no painful moments to remember his childhood by . he had been happy . no matter how busy his mom was , she was always loving and attentive whenever she was around , played baseball and football and soccer with him whenever he asked her to , and grandpa harrison was always available if the boy ever needed a guy figure in his life . of course , there were some bumps and bruises along the way , and a pinky finger he never fully got the feeling back , but it was a beautiful , fulfilling childhood .

as a teenager , recently acquainted with a never seen before freedom , and just out of puberty , andre grew more acquainted with getting in trouble . thankfully , nothing like cousin gina , who had to cut off a part of her ear after piercing it by herself with her tenth grade friends . while rambunctious and mischievous , he was always to smart to get caught doing something that could get him in any kind of real trouble , and by then , the family knew that they could trust andre to not be too irresponsible , and even if they didn’t , at least he had both ears intact .

a full grown adult , after getting his marketing degree in northwestern university , andre followed his mother’s footsteps and worked hard to climb the organizational ladder and reach the cco position , becoming one of his grandfather’s valued advisors along the way . these days , he works hard to keep his image clean and his professional life very well separated from his private one , being very succesful at it thus far .

𝐈𝐈𝐈. 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 :

andre can definitely be considered a little bit too cocky in his confidence . he knows his strengths and doesn’t believe in fake humility , always eager to be praised by whatever actions . also very focused , he feels as if he knows exactly what he deserves in all aspects of his life , and doesn’t hesitate to work for it until he’s satisfied .

he is also , however , a very fun loving individual . andre believes in the motto work hard , play hard . and you can definitely find him going on expensive trips to exotic locations or some rich person adventure more often that he’d like to admit . is constantly surrounded by a-list celebrities or clout chasers who attach to him due to his connections into the industry . and as being the center of attention is one of his favorite things , he absolutely adores it .

very , extremely sarcastic and definitely not the most outwardly affectionate person , it takes a lot to get him to soften up , but andre’s also extremely loyal to those he knows are his real friends , and always makes sure that they are with him no matter where he goes and what he gets .

is known to be quite the ladies’ man , and often lives up to the reputation , even though he’s settled down quite happily a few times during his adulthood . he’s not averse to relationships , per say , but also doesnt want to jump in carelessly , specially when he’s not felling the situation . is frequently engaged in some sort of drama with the girls in his life and even though he claims to dislike it , he loves all the attention he gets from them ( ew , i hate him , he’s gross )

𝐈𝐕. 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 :

childhood best friend / chicago native ( 1 / 2 ) : people who’ve known him since before he hit puberty and became cool and who are with him til this very day . they might not be best friends for whatever reason but still are closer than most friendships out there . ( pearl , )

flings / could be past or present : could also range from the silliest to the most angsty stuff , andre definitely has the repertoire for it .

ride or dies ( 2 / 6 ) : truly ride or dies , his closest group of friends , the ppl that are with him no matter where he is and the only people outside his family he’d do whatever for . ( devin , watson )

exes / chicago native ( 2 / 2 ) : i have some ideas about them but lets just say one would have ended in decently good terms and one would not . ( vera , aurora )

friend with interests ( 0 / 2 ) : andre has a lot of ins with the media industry , and this person would definitely have an ulterior motive to hang around him , whether he’s realised it yet or no .

flirtationship ( 1 / 1 ) : first of all i hate that word my GOD but also , would be a kind of thing where they’d both be feeling each other but for some reason things just wouldn’t progress ? ( elissa )

there is a lot more but i’ve just written this thing twice in a row n my brain is currently just 2 neurons barely communicating so i should probably quit while i’m ahead ? but pls message me bc if u want to know some more about andre or come up w plots or just talk about how hot mbj is n how unfair it is that the rpc doesnt gif him nearly enough ? or we could also talk abt something i might be delusional rn so i have a bunch of interesting topics ok bye thanks for sticking around i love uuuu

#░ ▹ 𝙊𝙐𝙏 𝙊𝙁 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙍𝘼𝘾𝙏𝙀𝙍 / / oh jenny !#wealthyhq:intro #oof this has been a ride ladies n gents #and am i glad to be done with it #also raise ur hand if u have a cousin gina in ur life

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kmp78 · 5 years

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DISCLAIMER AND RULES

These are the UPDATED directions/guidelines for all who want to participate/contribute to this blog. Our topics of conversation revolve mostly around 30 Seconds to Mars/the Leto Bros, but we have been known to also discuss various other current events around the world.

By reading, and especially by contributing, on what goes on around this blog, you are willingly agreeing with all guidelines and directions I have mentioned below - no exceptions.

I am willing to give a space to those who wish to discuss Mars (or other topics), and I am washing my hands from any and all fuckery that may ensue from other people´s opinions.

Also worth mentioning: I am fully aware that some people who publicly and very vocally denounce any interest in either this blog or Mars gossip lurk around this blog and then spread shit elsewhere on the internet.

By doing that, you are essentially outing yourself as a quiet kmp78 admirer, so to speak.

Or a fangirl, if that suits better. 🤗

Alright then... READ.

1. This blog is laced with sarcasm, jokes, stupid and often very dark humor and PERSONAL OPINIONS - both mine and the people who participate in our conversations. This is not CNN, BBC or even Fox News - this is a personal blog run by a (sort of) fan. Not someone with inside information, and not someone whose opinions and views should be taken too seriously, and definitely not as gospel. I have no direct access to anyone in the Mars organization, and I do not work for them.

2. Nor do I work for YOU. This may be a blog which is mainly used for discussions about all things Mars and all opinions and topics are welcome, but the only one in charge is ME. I decide if a message gets published, if a message gets edited, if a message gets deleted - and if the sender gets blocked.

And not that it really needs to be said, but here goes anyway: I do not work for any Leto troll either.

3. And speaking of blocking:

those who send threats or offensive messages will be blocked, as will anyone who I deem block-worthy. Rest assured, I never block anyone without a reason, so if you should discover that you have been blocked, that means I had a reason. I may or may not inform publicly when a person has been blocked, depends on my mood.

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In any case, as I said: I will not take responsibility for anyone else´s words other than mine, and screaming at me over here or elsewhere online regarding comments someone else made and I posted...

Well, that´s just infantile. 🙄

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Readers to this blog should be adult enough to handle both sides.

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You also need to be able to tell the difference between calling a woman a whore and calling a Leto a whore. If you can´t understand the difference, then get out immediately.

SPECIAL CLAUSE:

the term “YACHT GIRL” when used in connection with an actually legit model who YOU ARE JEALOUS OF BECAUSE SHE GETS TO BONE A MAN YOUR FLABBY LOINS BURN FOR, actually is the equivalent of you calling her a whore, so kindly DO NOT.

Use whatever brain cells your parents genes bestowed upon you and make them at least somewhat proud. That should hopefully partially make up for the disappointment they most probably are already feeling knowing you actually read and participate in this shit.

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Think of it this way:

when typing your message, if at any point you think that what you are writing might come across differently or more seriously to the person reading it than to you while writing it - then do not write it. Any innuendo about people´s potential “social diseases” is not welcome either, and neither are accusations of “obsessions” and people “stalking” the men this blog is focused on. Be VERY careful when using these terms.

YOU are responsible for your own words. I cannot stress that enough.📣

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Do not use people´s real names in messages.

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To make this very clear: we don´t make news here, we discuss them.

10. When sending submits, if you are unsure of others potentially seeing your “ID”, please mention in your message that you want to remain anon and I will post it anon. Also please remember tho that there is no such thing as complete anonymity - so be careful when writing down your thoughts. Censor yourself if necessary - don´t make problems for me or others, or yourself.

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Don´t give me reasons if you want to remain in the shadows.

(And same goes for chat messages btw: don´t pretend to be my friend in private, but then turn your back and stab me in it in public. More often than not I WILL find out, and if I choose to then out your bullshit by posting private messages, THAT´S ALL YOUR OWN DOING, KIDDOS.

Play nice with me and you have nothing to worry about.

Start kicking dirt in my face and...🤷‍♀️

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I´m beyoooooooond bored answering the same questions over and over again, sometimes in the space of just a few hours! The archives and search option are available on my blog for a reason! USE THEM. 😠

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21. If I feel that a message offers no relevant or needed content, I won´t post it. For example, a message such as “JL & XX in Japan bang bang” is unnecessary and pointless and not worth posting. I only have 250 allowed posts per day, and on busy days I have to make judgments on what is worthy of posting and what is not. I apologize if I therefore have to skip some messages.

When I run out of allowed posts here, I will let everyone know that I am switching over to use the secondary blog which can be found at @kmp78secondaryblog

(PLEASE NOTE: That blog is ONLY used when we run out of room here, and I never go there unless I have to so please don´t send any messages to that blog unless I inform we have to move there!)

AND FINALLY PLEASE REMEMBER:

THIS IS A FANDOM FOR A BAND. NOT A MATTER OF LIFE AND DEATH. ACT ACCORDINGLY.

Creating hater accounts dedicated to POSTING PICTURES OF MY BLOODY EYEBALL (that btw actually happened because of course it did! This is the echeLOOOOOON after all! 👍) won´t make me quit this blog, so...

Yeah.

Anyway, for further information, please contact me via private message here, on my IGs, or at [email protected].

Thank you. 🙏

PS: In case you run into accounts/comments made under my tumblr “identity”, or otherwise unauthorized “kmp78″ activity outside of tumblr which you recognize as being linked to this blog in any way (such as my posts being tagged with JL´s tags etc.), please report them immediately, both to the admins of the sites you found these accounts on, and to me directly so I can take appropriate action, thanks.

Any of my personal pics taken from this blog have been taken without permission and I have never and will never give permission to post them anywhere. And when I say I “appropriate action”, I mean just that. If need be, I will be contacting the authorities, like I did when I received public death threats.

Be very aware that my tolerance for that is less than zero - and also be aware that these guidelines and my rules may change whenever I feel the need to change them.

#DEAL ✌️

#updated rules #updated regulations #read and learn #think you can?#i don´t have high hopes #dumbfuckchelon

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justmysicklypride · 6 years

Text

P-P-P-Play that shit: ptv analysis - Part 2

Hi what’s up everyone and welcome to this week’s pew news. This is a continuation of my last post where I pretty much summed up Pierce The Veil’s career from the beginning to present and gave an overview of their rise and downfall. You can check it out here, but if you already know about everything or have read it already then feel free to ignore it. In any case, I was originally gonna make these two posts as one but ran out of room bc who the hell would read that much text in a blog post (me) so here you go - part two of this fucking conspiracy theory because I didn’t even get to share any of my thoughts in the last one. (I also forgot to put headers with each new topic smh apologies to the English language)

Edit: it’s been fucking eons since I wrote the last one/started writing this one like legit I even changed my user. The reason why this has been put off for so long will be explained later but yh smh

Gigantic obligatory disclaimer: Everything that I will discuss whether it be in this post or my last, or any future posts that relate to this subject IS NOT going to touch on the subject of the “sexual relations with a minor” incident in itself. I will not go into detail about my own views on this specific matter as there is literally no way to win because whatever I say could be taken out of context by literally anyone. That being said, I do not condone pedophilia, I do not condone sexual harassment or rape, and I do not undermine the importance of consent. I respect the laws of different states, as I know they vary with time and place, and I understand that everyone has their own opinions and I do not wish to impose my own onto others.

In regards to this, however, I do have to acknowledge that I, first and foremost, do not think that Mike Fuentes is innocent, and I strongly believe that how the band handled this situation was just plain terrible, but I do also have to acknowledge the fact that this situation is to stay between the accuser and the victim, as well as their respective legal teams and that I should not go nosedive headfirst into anything like this when it does not directly affect or require my judgement as a necessity, lest I face any legalities or blacklash as a result. Furthermore, everything that I will be talking about are conspiracies only and I do not in any way assume or imply that any of this is true.

In other words, I don’t mean to offend anyone but if you end up getting offended then that’s on you, not me. Let’s begin.

Introduction

The points that I am trying to highlight in this essay post is, in simple words, that Pierce The Veil’s... well, everything, comes off as kind of a conspiracy, almost, to me. I have had these thoughts for a long-ish time, and so this post is basically me finally making a post that covers all things that I have been thinking of in the past. Unlike my previous post, this one is a lot less fact-based and a lot more opinionated, so if you’re not into that, then that’s fair. Otherwise, I will be discussing the following things (in this order): the topic of kellic, Misadventures, and the accusation + response.

When Life Gives You Lemons, You Ship Them Together And Call It Lemonade

I refer to my last post and assume that everyone understands how “kellic” came to be and what it means. To summarise to the bare minimum best of my abilities, it’s the ship name of Vic Fuentes and Kellin Quinn, aka what people call it when someone wants or is keen on the idea of these two frontmen having an affair with each other in a (typically) fictional setting. It happens all the time, especially in this day and age where you can easily just find someone with the same obsession as you with a click of a button. That’s why King For A Day, and inadvertently Collide With The Sky, became such a huge success. It appealed to the right demographic of teenagers and tweens who were ecstatic at the prospect of shipping, and went on to achieve even more impressive feats following that. How you ask? Well, by going on a tour around the world of course. Together. Playing shows every night that ends with one of them literally carrying the other off the stage. Gotta give the people what they want, hey?

I have a strong belief that the key to success is through beating the system at its own game. In this case, the game is simple - get fans, get money. Unfortunately, as we all know, getting fame isn’t as easy as simply earning it through grit and determination. To achieve fame, one must find a way to do something at the right time in the right way so that people will notice. If one person does, and your fire doesn’t die out right away, then you’ve got yourself a forest fire. Then later on, all you gotta do is keep this forrest fire going, but assuming that there isn’t someone standing on the other side with the whole fire department’s resources in tow, then the only thing stopping this fire is itself, because with all things in life, fire dies out, and fame stops accumulating after a while if nothing is done about it. Humans need entertainment. If something starts to fail to pique their interests, then they move on. That’s why YouTubers are required to change up their content every now and again in order to try and relight that spark they once had, and even then there’s a good chance that they won’t.

I was originally going to write another blog essay about this whole YouTube analogy thing but quickly realised that for one, I don’t have time bc I’m getting my ass fucked by university on a daily basis; and that for another, there’s most likely a billion other videos or essays about this topic as is, so I’ll just link one or two of them here. I haven’t watched them all yet or I don’t remember much of them, but all they do is pretty much summarise up stuff like how YouTubers become successful and their downfalls and all that, and even though they kinda focus on a specific person or group of people, I feel like it could be generalised.

Even without the YouTube metaphor, we know shipping works. It is evident in multiple works across various media that giving the fans what they want is often what gives these people their continued success, such as Dan Howell and Phil Lester, who have all but stopped trying to create their own individual branding (save for their separate merch stores that are probably there just to get more people to buy their overpriced clothing), and who at this point have become such an overused example that I actually hesitated writing that. Why do you think movies and shows and cartoons mostly have a romantic subplot? Romance is an essential trope in literature and easily one of the most popular genre out there for various reasons. According to a Bustle article written in 2016, romance often gives the readers a sense of hope or gives them a way to live out their fantasies in the easiest way possible, and while this may not apply to everyone, (personally I’m not a romance fan much at all but I can appreciate good literature), it’s hard to deny the phrase “sex sells”.

Given that, you’d think that any company with half a brain would learn to exploit it, but for some reason this wasn’t the case in Pierce The Veil’s management, and no matter how I look at it, I can’t really see the reason why. It’s not like the band members are uncomfortable with the ship - Jaime Preciado has been seen kissing Vic Fuentes on stage (not on the lips guys chill) (I had forgotten how fucking difficult it takes to find this one specific clip so here’s a couple different fuenciado pictures instead to make up for it smfh), and Vic Fuentes has mentioned kellic in a live stream once jokingly - and Kellin Quinn is notoriously known for being completely okay with it (so long as he doesn’t have to look at it), so just what is the reason?

This Ain’t A Hiatus, It’s A Goddamned Arms Race

I’d be lying if I didn’t miss all the memes that all stemmed from the Pierce The Veil boys not being able to release an album when they’d promised, before postponing said album yet again and disappearing off of the face of the earth digitally for another year or two, giving them a total of four years as their unofficial, unannounced hiatus. For this, I have several questions.

We all know Vic Fuentes loves taking his sweet ass time releasing music - he’s admitted to remaking his first album a second time before releasing it, as stated an interview a couple years back - but you can’t honestly tell me their management just let them get away with it. Sure, through this time they’ve been pushing out new merch to no end, but something tells me that this giant gap they’ve wedged between the new album and Collide With The Sky isn’t gonna be good publicity, despite all the memes that’ve sprouted from it. There’s been fans who stopped taking interest in this band because of it, as well as fans who have just gotten fed up with having to wait so long. They scrapped a whole completed album in the process of creating Misadventures too, and while it’s not uncommon for bands to throw away near-completed ideas at whim, it’s also not unlikely for there to be some external factors or reasoning behind why they did it. Could it be that the album they threw away stayed too close to their roots and management or some other person told the band to start again, so that they can create something more appealing to this day and age? Or could it be something else that is hard to see at face-value?

You’ll Never Get Ahold Of Me Now

Finally, I’m gonna address the overdue elephant in the room. If you want to read the full thing, here it is because I’m tired of having to reiterate what happened. Mike Fuentes received a sexual allegation by some girl(s) and the band released a shitty statement that has since gotten deleted - that’s the general gist of it.

Like I said, it’s been literal months (or weeks idk my perception of time is severely fucked) since I actually started making this post so literally no one cares anymore, but regardless of what past me has promised or written down, I’m not going to be discussing the allegation in itself, but rather what and/or how the band and their subsequent management has handled it, in that they handled it so bad that I honestly can’t believe they did it like that.

Edit: I wasn’t gonna bother finding another copy of the statement bc no one’s gonna give a shit but then I’d be doing some baseless shit and I honestly can’t stand people who half ass these things, despite my growing urge to do the same thing, so here’s the statement.

For starters, who the hell waits one whole month before releasing a statement? From what I can remember, their excuse was allegedly that pretty much management forbade them to talk or make a statement about it earlier for... reasons? (Just realised I don’t actually have the source for this so idk take it with a grain of salt I guess because I was sure I had read this somewhere but I can’t back it up.)

That’s not even the worst part, either. The statement itself gave zero closure to literally everything. Yes, they acknowledged the allegation, but that’s just about as far as they went. The whole point of a statement is to clear things up, whether the accuser was right or wrong, and what steps will be taken from there, whether an apology is to be issued or not. No shit you know about the incident, who in the fandom wouldn’t? Instead pointing out the straight up obvious, what they should’ve done was 1) not waited an entire fucking month before talking about it, most likely hoping the whole thing to blow over by then and 2) actually talked about the incident in their statement instead of tiptoeing around the subject like some sort of time bomb ready to go off. There is no right or wrong answer, because literally all they had to do was tell the truth - as in write down a statement from Mike (not the whole fucking band mind you) about his take on the whole thing or get him to say what had happened from his point of view. Then resolve it privately with your legal team and whatnot if they really feel the need. Hell, all he needed to do was apologise. Whether something like that classifies as assault or rape or whatever is up to you but the fact of the matter is that she’s underaged at that point in time. Even if she was fully aware of the risks and whatnot and gave legitimate consent, under the eyes of the law and pretty much 80% of the people reacting to this incident, it will be deemed illegal and inappropriate behaviour. All these people had to do was literally just be open and honest about it regardless of whatever the hell happened, because this is all happening on a public platform where everyone can see/read it to their hearts’ content. Viewers can’t judge or make a decision to support or not support you if you don’t tell them your side of the story, so for the love of god, why the hell didn’t they?

The statement was filled with bullshit about how they love the fans and all that shit, and honestly my thoughts can be accurately summed up in this video right here. So much backlash could have potentially been avoided had they just told it as it is, because now all we have is a vague ass response that gives no closure and tell us nothing as to whether Mike actually did it or not, because in the statement he manage to spout some bullshit about how he’s “never intentionally manipulated or abused anyone in [his] life” and that he’s just a ball of empathy which at first glance could suggest he at least thinks he’s innocent, but then they go on to say how Mike’s taking a temporary leave from the band for, you guessed it, absolutely no reason. At least, no reason that they’ve given us (what else is new) (I’m becoming more petty as the night drags on it’s literally 1am). Honestly, .@piercetheveil, please tell me why the honest to god fuck did you have him leave just after suggesting that he might be innocent? I know the world isn’t black and white but when you’re making a stance and defending yourself or admitting to something, it really is - black and white that is. Either you’re innocent or believe that you’re innocent and stand your ground by not leaving the band, or you admit that you are guilty, in which case your leaving of the band would actually feel justified, because now it’s like you’re gonna come back as well, so what does that even mean? Mike isn’t gone indefinitely, he hasn’t pleaded guilty or innocent, and now the band is telling us they love us? Fuck out of here with that bullshit.

Yes, I support the band’s decision to pull out of the All Time Low tour and to not have Mike out there in case fans feel threatened or unsafe or whatnot, but if you’re pleading innocent, then honestly the whole band should’ve just said “hey we’re gonna go on hiatus for a while until our legal team’s finished with taking care of everything”, and not just said hey guys we’re gonna kick him out because he may or may not have done something that we’re not gonna tell you because we’re shady fuckers like that. I know they are on hiatus right now, but at the “start”, they only said that Mike would be withdrawing temporarily or whatever so it’s kind of like, okay? Sure? It’s a right mess I assure you. Honestly, throughout this whole incident, it was this statement part that made me really fed up with this band. My interest in them had died down significantly from since I hit fifteen all those three years ago, and right now when I dug up an old iPod shuffle to bring with me to university to save my phone battery throughout the day, I can honestly say that I won’t be adding any Pierce The Veil songs onto it anytime soon unless I get peer pressured to. Personally, I feel like that’s kind of the mentality of a lot of had-been Pierce The Veil fans, too.

That’s Great And All But What’s Your Point?

Pierce The Veil’s management sucks ass.

There’s no easy, lawsuit-prone way for me to say it but, and this is just a conspiracy theory I swear to god if I get the fucking ASIS kicking down my door in the middle of the night you better read the fucking disclaimer, there’s obviously some shady shit going on in there no matter what way you slice it. Either they’re sabotaging Pierce The Veil’s success or whether it’s all some big confusion or misunderstanding, or if they’re just plain dumb, we can all agree that this whole thing - the kellic fan service, album making, allegations and subsequent statements - should’ve and could’ve been handled a hell of a lot more gracefully and professionally. Believe it or not, waiting until things blow over is frankly just childish and solves literally nothing, so either they can pull their act together quickly with this next “special secret” album to redeem what little quality/dignity they have left, or they can just fade away into irrelevancy and become a band that no one cares about anymore.

History repeats itself. This band is quickly becoming just another Leafyishere, and as ominous as that sounds, it’s honestly not unlikely at this point. I am intrigued as to where they go from here, because if they manage to breakthrough again, then I would be very surprised given their current situation. I want to know how they choose to handle this - whether it’ll be the same or not, we’ll just have to wait and see.

Thank you so much if you read through this honestly like I am beyond happy that this is fucking over because I have a bunch of non-band related post essays I’ve been meaning to post but this one’s been nagging at the back of my mind for the past few months or however long it’s been. I’ve clocked in at around past 3k words for this one, and none of this is edited because I’m honestly so done with this you don’t understand. Like I said before, this took ages because I was gonna make another post talking about other shit that relates to this before realising that there’s way too many people that’ve addressed the whole YouTube thing so me doing it would literally be pointless, and even though no one really reads this shit, as big of a nerd as I am, I do enjoy writing bullshit because maybe then I’ll stop ranting to my friends and family about topics they don’t care about.

Regardless, that’s it for this two parter thing, and until next time or whatever.

Catch’ya x

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mittensmorgul · 7 years

Note

The mixtape thing is hard for me to see as a romantic gesture only- In Stranger Shings, Jonathan Bayers gave a Mixtape to his little brother, In Guardians of the Galaxy, Peter Quill got his Mixtape from his mother-So it seems that can be a family thing too?And we and the show, claim that Castiel is family- I would love it to be pure romantic love thing,but with many mixtapes showing up as a family affair it is hard

Hi there! First of all, my intent behind this reply is one part mild exasperation, one part humorous jibing, and maybe two or three parts coffee (It took a lot of coffee to drown out the part that just wanted to delete this in a fit of less-than-mild exasperation, but I just want to assure you that this reply is in no way intended to be mean-spirited or condescending, and I hope you don’t take it that way).

For my second disclaimer, I’d like to make it known that I have seen neither of these things-- GotG or Stranger Things-- but because I don’t live under a rock, I at least know what they are. So if I say something about them that people who are actually familiar with these things would take issue with, just know that I am not prepared for a meta debate on either GotG or Stranger Things, but that no ill is intended in referencing them here.

(for my third disclaimer, I’d like to again state how sad I am that meta writers need to paste these sorts of disclaimers on everything, but such is the way things go...)

Righto! I think we can get down to business now. :)

There has already been a very well-written defense of the mixtape as romantic as used in GotG and GotG 2, and how it even STRENGTHENS the romantic reading of the mixtape scene in 12.19. But being me, the post somehow didn’t make it into the proper tag on my blog, and despite trying to search for it multiple different ways, I can’t seem to find it anywhere... >.>

(additional disclaimer that I’m in the middle of a Death Migraine, so apologies for any lack of due diligence in linking relevant references... searching for things hurts my brain right now)

The gist of it was that the mixtape contained songs that Peter Quill’s parents listened to together, so the tape’s ORIGINS were without question romantically coded. Despite the fact that the movie opens with Peter’s dying mother giving him the tape (this was what happened, right? I’m not mistaken here?) as a gift of love from mother to son, from what I understand about the sequel, PETER TURNS RIGHT AROUND AND USES THE TAPE TO WOO GAMORA. Restoring the “romantic” associations the tape began with, imbuing the mixtape with a sort of “legacy of love.”

Did I get all that right?

This is EXACTLY what I was referring to in my post yesterday as the show’s history of using Led Zeppelin songs in explicitly romantic situations.

In the OPENING SCENE of 12.01, as Dean’s establishing his identity for a very confused and suddenly-alive-after-33-years Mary, this is what he tells her:

Dean: Listen to me. Your name - your name is Mary Sandra Campbell, you were born December 5, 1954 to Samuel and Deanna Campbell. Your father, he bounced around a lot for work, and you bounced right along with him and you ended up in Lawrence, Kansas.Mary: How do you know all that?Dean: Dad told me. March 23, 1972 you walked out of a movie theater, Slaughterhouse-Five, you loved it. And you bumped into a big marine and knocked him on his ass. You were embarrassed and he laughed it off, said you could make it up to him with a cup of coffee. So you went to, uh, Mulroni's, and you talked and he was cute, and he knew the words to every Zeppelin song, so when he asked you for your number you gave it to him even though you knew your dad would be pissed. That was the night that you met-Mary: John Winchester.Dean: August 19, 1975 you were married, in Reno, your idea. Few years later I came along, then Sammy.Mary: Then I burned. How long have I been gone?Dean: Thirty-three years.

SHE GAVE JOHN WINCHESTER HER NUMBER BECAUSE HE KNEW ALL THE WORDS TO EVERY LED ZEPPELIN SONG. IT WAS A FLIRTATION. IT WAS THE FOUNDING STONE IN THEIR RELATIONSHIP.

LED ZEPPELIN LYRICS.

EXPLICITLY ROMANTIC.

Not only that, but we know that Dean has known this story his whole life. As if Mary (who had died long ago when he was a child, just like Peter Quill’s mother) had given him a reason to love these songs, too. For Dean they weren’t just ///romantic/// coded, but a link to that happier and more innocent time from his childhood, where his life was normal and his mom cut the crusts off his PBJ and gave him pie. From a time when Dean thought life could even be normal at all.

So, not solely romantic, but absolutely romanticized. Or idealized, at least. These were memories he clung to like a koala as his life fell to pieces after Mary died. He remembered that old life as only a child could, through rose-tinted soft-focus, reinforced by John’s vague and infrequent recounting of his memories of Mary.

(remember in 3.09, how 9-year-old Sam complained that they NEVER talked about mom? and how upset Dean became when Sam probed him for more information? And even in the pilot episode Sam said something about never being able to get mom back, and Dean threw him against the bridge pillar and told him to NEVER say stuff like that about Mary... I mean, it’s HEAVILY implied that talking about her AT ALL was something that just didn’t happen, but when it did, it was the sort of memory Dean referenced in his speech in 12.01... those were the “important details” he’d memorized... and maybe that entire description of their first meeting hadn’t even been John’s words at all, but things Dean had been carrying in his own mind since he was a child-- something Mary might’ve told him herself before she died, since that bit of Dean’s story is related back to Mary in Mary’s own pov.)

The show has also lampshaded the use of Led Zeppelin as a sexual overture, in 2.02:

Jo: You know, I thought you were gonna toss me some cheap pickup line. Most hunters come through that door think they can get in my pants with some... pizza, a six pack, and side one of Zeppelin IV.

Jo had been expecting Dean to hit on her, and it’s implied all the way up through her appearance as a ghost in 7.04 that she’d WANTED him to hit on her, that she’d had a crush on him or was attracted to him... and the only reason she turned him down in 5.10 was because she didn’t just want the “last night on earth” fling with him... This was 100% a come-on.

And Dean’s two favorite songs? Ramble On (which yes, on the surface is a LotR reference, but the deeper message is the search for a lover), and Traveling Riverside Blues (which is 100% about sex... I mean... It’s just pure lust). Put together, they’re like the peak of Love and Lust. And being Dean’s two top favorite songs? I’d bet both of them are on that mixtape.

So back to the point with the GotG reference. It not only does not invalidate Dean’s gift of the tape to Cas as a romantic gesture, but REINFORCES the romantic nature of the gift.

These songs that united Peter’s parents, which his mom left to him after she died, and eventually he uses to romance someone he’s in love with...

If Peter had turned around and given the mixtape to another relative, or to a friend he had no romantic interest in, then I would’ve given you this example. But that is explicitly NOT what happened. Sorry. When taken in the larger context of the entire story around it, saying the mixtape there was only about a mother’s love for her son is being deliberately obtuse. Context matters, and taking that one link in Peter’s mixtape chain out of the larger interconnected story is cherry picking.

So that leaves us with ONE SINGLE EXAMPLE (which I won’t argue with because I have not seen Stranger Things and therefore have zero context with which to debate what you stated about it) OUT OF THE ENTIRE CANON OF HUMAN STORYTELLING in which a mixtape is used as a platonic or familial gift with no romantic coding whatsoever.

I’m going to go ahead and call the use of the mixtape in Stranger Things THE EXCEPTION TO THE RULE. This was the subversion of the standard trope.

I asked Mr. Mittens and kidperson (who HAVE watched Stranger Things) what the context of the mixtape was, just so I could have a general idea. Apparently it was given to a younger brother by an older brother as a sort of “This is important music that you need to know to be cool” sort of gift. Or maybe “music that is important to me.” Apparently the older brother was hospitalized for something at some point? So there was also this generalized feeling of “taking care of my little brother” aspect to it? I’m just spitballing on the like three things I know about ST, so no actual meta value is being ascribed to these statements.

But this is what really bothers me about your question, because this is something that’s been discussed since 12.19 aired, and I would like to put forth this argument:

The VAST MAJORITY of references to the gift of a mixtape in popular culture ARE EXPLICITLY ROMANTICALLY OR SEXUALLY CODED. The OVERWHELMING number of references over DECADES of storytelling simply cannot be invalidated by a SINGLE use of the mixtape in a non-romantic way.

PLUS: CONTEXT MATTERS. You can’t just say, “Dean gave Cas a mixtape, but because one time on one show someone gave a mixtape to his brother, so therefore these situations could be identical, and it could be a gesture of brotherly camaraderie and not specifically romantic.” THAT IS NOT A VALID ARGUMENT WHEN TAKEN IN CONTEXT.

The entire scene in 12.19 was framed, shot, and edited with multiple other romantically coded tropes. The absolute QUIET that settled over the scene (no background music, the only sounds those of their voices, speaking earnestly and emotionally to one another), the fact that we didn’t see Dean GIVE the tape TO CAS, but only Cas attempting to return the tape to Dean because his recent actions HURT DEAN. Dean was ANGRY that Cas had gone missing for a time and had ignored his calls, and had stormed off to his room in a huff. Cas’s response to this was to offer to RETURN the tape to Dean (now explicitly coded as a gift of love, because he worried that Dean may have withdrawn whatever feelings that had inspired the gift in the first place).

The fact that Dean can’t even LOOK at Cas because of his hurt, and yet picks up the tape and hands it back to Cas (in a shot that frames JUST THEIR HANDS PASSING THE TAPE like THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT PLS PAY ATTENTION PLS), and tells him, “It’s a gift. You keep those.”

I can’t believe people need me to spell out all the subtext in that one line, but here it is:

At this moment, the fact that the gift object itself is a mixtape is practically irrelevant, because THAT LINE ITSELF carries about nine miles of romantic subtext. In this context, the mixtape takes on the same narrative weight as Arwen’s necklace in Lord of the Rings. It’s a symbol of her immortality as an elf, AND a symbol for her heart. AND SHE OFFERS IT TO ARAGORN, AND THEN HE TRIES TO GIVE IT BACK BECAUSE HE FEELS HE DOES NOT DESERVE IT, BECAUSE HE’S ABOUT TO LEAVE HER TO GO ON HIS MISSION TO SAVE THE WORLD.

Sound familiar?

This familiarity IS NOT AN ACCIDENT. IT IS A VERY LONG-LIVED ROMANTIC TROPE.

The fact that the Macguffin in this case happens to be a Led Zeppelin mixtape in 12.19 only ADDS to the inherently romantically coded GESTURE of what happened in that whole entire scene, compounded by A DECADE of other romantically coded subtext between Dean and Cas.

*screams into the void and the apologizes to the void and tucks it back under its blanket*

There’s also the fact that we have no idea when, or under what circumstances, Dean gave that tape to Cas in the first place. We can only speculate that it may have happened after the events of 12.12, but honestly it could’ve been any time in the preceding ten years. For argument’s sake, let’s suppose it was a relatively recent gift, considering the circumstances under which Cas attempted to return it-- immediately after being confronted with his unexplained absence and Dean’s anger over it, and immediately PRIOR to his PLANNED BETRAYAL, his theft of the Colt, and his abandonment of Dean yet again... The circumstances under which Cas felt he might not ///deserve/// this specific token of Dean’s feelings for him involved betrayal of those feelings by virtue of his absence and abandonment of Dean (at least, he understood this much of what that tape seemed to represent to Dean).

*another disclaimer: I’ve been writing this for like four hours now, and my Death Migraine has progressed to the point where I need to not look at things for a while. I could keep going here, but I’m failing at basic human things like “being able to sit upright” and “not throwing up every time I open my eyes” so I’m gonna stop typing now*

*no wait, one more thing because I can type with my eyes closed*

Isn’t it amazing that we’ve now evolved to the point where instead of combing through the subtext to find romantically coded things in their interactions, folks are now actively scrambling to find ways to explain away the blatantly in-your-face romantically coded text? I mean... what have we come to here? When the more OBVIOUS and far more defensible read of the scene is the romantic read? And yet still there’s this scramble to suggest it could be non-romantic...

And do you know how these sorts of arguments all sound to me? I’ll let the Simpsons explain it for me:

youtube

#top 13 zepp traxx #the scheherazade of supernatural #apologies that this sort of goes incoherent at points #imma go lie down in a dark room for a while now and pray for death #Anonymous

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np254 · 7 years

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No, it’s not a click bait. I quit social media and am in rehab.

Let me explain:

What

I deactivated my Instagram account.

I deleted the Facebook app on my phone. I cannot completely deactivate my account, because I am administrating a page (hence the responsibilities). I only access FB from my phone in case of emergencies. Everyday, I check my notifications once or twice from my laptop.

I logged out of Tumblr on my phone and deleted the app. Visits reduced to 2-3 times a week.

The only social-networking app I am still using on a daily basis is Messenger, which is more like a messaging app.

When

From October 13th. Undecided end date.

Why

1. My clean history with social media

I have been socially active all my life and been using my social accounts very consciously for years. Ever since my childhood, my parents have taught me about the importance of moderation when it comes to social media. Even though I have had 2 emails (not one, but two!) for 11 years (and I am 20), my parents have given me guidance on managing these from the very beginning. It was the same with Facebook (which I’ve also been having for about 10 years) – during the first few years, I never went online without parental controls. And for that I was thankful.

Even when I gained full control of my socials, which was about 7 years ago, everything was still going well. Although I have a lot of friends in school and from my social activities, social networks have always been there for its initial purpose – to help me stay in touch with people.

Even when I took charge of my social media accounts, I still used them with caution and consideration. On Facebook, I only connect with people whom I have actually met in real life or whom I have heard about/talked to or with whom I have many mutual friends. My Instagram account has been private from the beginning and I have my own “rules” when accepting new followers. It explains why my social circle is not massive but the interaction rate is remarkable.

At once I could confidently state: “I am a Digital Native, I know my way around social networks”.

2. The addiction

In the beginning it was very subtle. The addiction.

The addiction is young. It started since I went to Germany to study abroad 2 years ago. At the time, I wouldn’t say that it was an addiction. However, it was definitely slight overuse. As I started my “adult life” on my own in a country far away from home, away from any kind of supervision whatsoever, I allowed myself to do whatever I want as long as it’s justifiable.

Somehow I felt the need to update my life online constantly, mainly because: – of the distance. Being so far from each other, I wanted to keep my family informed about my new life – of the time-zone difference. Being online constantly helped me stay informed about family and friends at home. – Germany is beautiful, I had a good life and I wanted to brag about it So I ended up being online a lot. Luckily, I had a group of five girlfriends and we spent a lot of time together cooking, chatting, baking and studying, so I was distracted from my phone and laptop.

After the first year, I moved to Hamburg. Around this time, I started my hobby with analog photography and this blog. I also started my course at the HAW. Here we learned about the importance of our online presence – whether it is necessary and what are the risks. I decided that an online presence is inevitably necessary, since I am a hobby photographer and later on want to work in the media.

I think I did a good job maintaining my online image. I am on every social networks and my profile on each network is carefully though-over and well-drafted. They coexist in harmony with the same username and together they portray different aspects of my personality exactly how I want them to.

It would be nice if I stopped there. But I didn’t.

I craved validation, but my craving was the worst type – I didn’t actually need validation, I just wanted to put myself and my life online, and for that I would feel satisfied enough. The thought that everyone knew how great/not great my life was fed my ego. In my head, I told myself that I am doing a great job sharing with people the often unnoticed moments in life (very noble, I know). Of course, I was ecstatic when someone responded, but that was not the main point.

Now, I will include another factor that played a role. But I also want to disclaim that I do not intend to put all the blame on it. It was only unfortunate that among many other reasons, a long-distance relationship also contributed to the growth of my addiction. Along with my own craving for validation, I had another justified reason to post about every little thing in my life.

From there, everything went downhill. I was online all the time, and I mean the literal meaning of the phrase. 24 hours a day. 7 days a week. The first thing I do every morning was checking my phone for messages from the night, notifications on every social networks, emails, Facebook newsfeed and Instagram feed. This ritual took at least 30 minutes every morning, often an hour. If I didn’t do this, I could not wake up. You can say that my brain delved into new notifications to wake myself up.

Then, during the course of the day, I was online constantly, even when there was nothing more to check. Social networks are programmed to be addictive, to this I agree. Even when I had something to do (e.g. am in a lecture), I would still occasionally pull out my phone, completely unawared, and aimlessly scroll through the feeds. When I had read everything, I would turn to the “Discover” tab, which both Facebook and Instagram have. The vicious cycle went on and on.

Besides from checking the feeds, I also posted content. I trust my taste and my aesthetics, so I invested a lot of time in choosing and editing the photos that I post. A little while ago, I reached the peak of my addiction, where I spent excessive time on content for my Instagram story. I would edit the photos in 1-2 apps then design the layout with beautiful text description in another app. Just to post to a virtual story that will only last for 24 hours. When I was bored, I would write quotes. To have nice hand-writing by smearing your finger on the touch screen is not the most efficient thing to do. I wrote and rewrote until the quotes looked decent and met my aesthetic standards. All that too, served the Instagram story that is only visible for 24 hours.

I agree that there are people who have to do this for the sake of their career. They could be professionals who do this for a living. Considering that I am neither a professional nor earn any cents from my social accounts, I was wasting so much time for nothing.

A few examples of my “creations” for my Instagram story:

Each of these took about 30 minutes.

The bad thing about the situation was that, I didn’t actually posted a lot on Facebook and Instagram. I only checked the feeds too frequently. Therefore, my addiction went unnoticed for a long time, since nobody, even myself, ever addressed my overuse.

It came to the point where I could not part with my phone or my laptop anymore. I would switch between my phone and laptop. Either one of them was always on, sometimes both. I would even check my phone while my laptop was booting or loading something. From time to time, I found myself in distress because I could never finish the book that I found interesting, or invest time in self-improvement as I did a year ago. Despite my distress, I never succeeded in cutting down my online time to spend time on other things. I just couldn’t.

3. The breakpoint

A month ago, something that happened had shaken me awake and rewired my way of thinking. My apologies for not explaining what this “something” was, for it is a personal matter.

I realised that I would waste my entire future if I didn’t make a change. I felt my mental capabilities deteriorated. I saw that I was not missing out on the virtual world, rather the actual world.

I did not want to live my life anymore, and I was the one who caused it all.

I have thought about seeking help, but I figured, maybe I could still cure myself, as long as there is a strong self-discipline. With this mindset, I started out on my personal rehab. It is still happening. If it goes wrong, here you can read in black and white, i promise that I will seek professional help.

How’s it been? What have I learned?

It has been difficult, of course.

Like every other addiction, the cravings are unbearable. It’s especially hard when I check my socials in the morning or before I go to bed. If I lose control, I can scroll on forever.

The most noticeable thing are random moments. Sometimes when I find something funny, or an interesting thought passes my mind, I feel a very strong urge to post something onto my Instagram story. Other times, I would open the “Social Networking” app folder on my phone, where I have remembered the positions of every app, and tapped intuitively, only to choose the wrong one (because I deleted some).

From this experience, I learn that the nice moments in life should be enjoyed in person. Even when there is no friend around to share with. I learn to find joy in them. Getting used to not instantaneously share everything online is hard, often times I find myself reaching for my phone, then put it away, then look around to find a familiar face, then look up to the sky and smile to myself. As if there is a sacred secret between me and an unknown Significant Power.

Solitude and happiness may seem like they will never go together, but happiness is actually in its purest form when you can share it with yourself and the universe. The happiness you feel is a whole, and you feel it with your entire heart and attention. Most often, we try to share our happiness, forgetting that it should be felt by us first, before it can be shared with others. Otherwise, the happiness would lose its purpose: to fulfil one’s soul.

Another thing I’ve learned, is that I do not need to prove my emotions. Honestly, people do not give much attention to what they see online, because the flow of information is endless, so they jump from this to that, quickly forgetting what they have seen. No one has noticed that I stopped using Instagram, even though I had been posting actively. As my account is deactivated, you can’t find me or tag me. From this I learn that life is not a stage and you don’t need an audience. Nobody will judge you if you are not happy, and the fact that you are happy and you show it does not do anything for anyone else, if they don’t truly care about you.

And people who care will go out of their way to make sure that you are fine. Even if you do not post anything on social networks, they will try to reach you. Such a short and simple message like “Hey, how are you doing? Haven’t heard from you in a while.” can light up my day brighter than 50 likes on a pic on Instagram.

Do I feel FOMO?

“Fear of missing out” has become a chronic disease. Funnily, I felt like I have always been having FOMO ever since I started using social media. No matter how often I check my feeds, I would still miss out on something.

To me, it doesn’t make any significance when I stop using social media in comparison to when I still used them in terms of FOMO. It’s not like I have stopped informing myself about the world. Quite the opposite, I read the newspaper regularly to know what is going on in real life.

The only problem that I currently still can’t solve is that I do not know what my friends abroad are doing. I have very good friends from school, with whom I do not talk very often but like to keep up with them via their social media accounts. Now that I am going completely sans Instagram, I don’t have a clue how they are doing, and simply hitting them up via Messenger just to ask if they are fine seems awkward and weird.

So far, this is my experience from one week with massively restricted social media usage. The struggle and the journey continue…

Deep down I wish that something good will come out of this.

I quit social media

#addiction #digital native #experience #facebook #insight #instagram #modern #np254 #overuse #problem #rehab #rehabilitation #social media #social networking #social networks #tumblr #Writing

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perpetually-jungshook · 7 years

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what is your writing process like? how long does it take you to develop the story-line and to actually sit down and write? i have some cute Namjoon fic ideas, but i don't want to start something and then fizzle out part way through....how do you maintain your motivation? ❤️the Ji to your Hope anon ❤️

This is going to be a really long answer, so I’m going to cut it with a “Keep Reading.” If you have any problem seeing the part below, please let me know and I can make other arrangements 😊

ALRIGHT. So first things first, I apologize in advance if I sound pretentious. At all. It’s definitely not my intention. The following comes from a place of my passion for writing and I hope that whatever meaning you derive from it can help in your own journey of literary exploration!

Now, as you probably know, I’m an English major working on an emphasis in creative writing. I’ve taken a few creative writing courses and have bumped elbows with a lot of brilliant writers. Below I will compile an answer based off of my experience in those classes mixed with my opinion. If you would like an elaboration on any part, please let me know and I will be more than happy to explain.

1) my writing process

Honestly? All of my life, I’ve kind of just started writing. This doesn’t seem like very helpful advice, so let me explain 😂 Once you find a source of inspiration, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant, don’t throw it away. You never know what kind of story it will blossom into. For example, it could be something as interesting as the night out that lead to my story “Deep Down, Inside” or something as simple as, say, frustration at how good a person looks when they’re a strawberry blond so gosh darn it now you’re writing a whole entire series about it and people seem to like it for whatever reason and what the HELL it’s now like the most popular thing on your blog- but yeah. Catalogue things that inspire you even if only in bullet points in a list on your phone 😄

STEP 2) after finding your inspiration. Start writing. It’s just that simple. You can always delete or edit an introduction later. If you’re interested in quick “getting started on a story” tips, just ask! And once you start writing, don’t stop. In the words of Ron Carlson, “don’t leave the room” literally or figuratively. You’ll want to look up names, definitions, get a cup of coffee, etc. DON’T DO IT! Those can be done later 😉 Often times our biggest weakness when it comes to writing is DISTRACTIONS. The more you leave, the less you’re writing. And the less time you spend writing, the harder it’ll be to remember your inventory (a word that will be elaborated upon later).

Now, this all stems from my belief that the writer should not force a narrative to go somewhere. Essentially, the author should have a conversation with their story, not guide or corral it. This allows for genuine character development and interesting, unexpected plot twists (ironic, I know, but you have to admit that in some stories, certain “plot twists” are completely expected). I will elaborate on this more momentarily.

Essentially, my writing process is: after finding something inspiring, I open up a document and start typing. Then keep typing. Don’t edit. You’re not there to be an editor. You’re there to write. Everything else comes later.

2) How long does it take me to develop the story line and to actually sit down and write?

Well... my life is kind of sad in such a way that I cannot live without writing. I go through literal withdrawals and depressions. I approach it like an art, like a part of myself. It may sound dramatic and it totally is, but words just burn me until they get out of my head. So it’s relatively, ridiculously easy in a way that’s really unfair when I’m giving advice for me to have ideas. It’s almost a detriment 😅 To answer the question directly, personally, I have two approaches to planning a story line.

1) I have no idea what the heck I’m doing and I write only what the story seems to want (see Goldilocks). This allows for more genuine characters as I let them speak instead of me speaking for them. Their dialogue, in my mind, becomes the words of a real person with real dreams and real aspirations and real motives (yes, I say this word addressing its negative connotations too). This option also makes writing a lot more fun for you as the author! 😄 why? Because every surprise for the reader is also a surprise for you~

2) The second option, my only other approach because I am a pendulum person, is elaborately planning out the plot (see Without You: Bloodstone). This can often be exhausting and intricate, obviously taking a lot of time and effort on your part to make sure every little detail matters. I do not recommend this for people who want to write casually/sensationally/shallowly for lack of better word. I’m not saying that these are any worse or less nor greater or better than deep, rhetorical writing 😊 it’s like different tastes in foods~ we each lean a certain way and it’s good to dabble in the other style every so often but let’s not kill ourselves over it, yeah?? (sensational vs. rhetorical readers/writers- a term I came up with- is a whole different conversation). ANYWAY! Bloodstone, as my primary example, took me a week in total to brainstorm. At least... the general lore stuff. The plot itself mostly stays true to my “making it up as I go along” motto, just with a few set plot points as guides. Essentially, I build the world my characters live in, give them a problem to solve, and then let them solve it on their own terms instead of mine.

Hopefully that makes sense? 😂 obviously, these are not the only two approaches and they are on a spectrum. I highly recom”mend you find a place on it that’s comfortable for you 💖

3) how do I maintain motivation?

Again, writing to me is an art. It’s something that I have to do in order to be a happy, functioning human being. So my answer might be a little unfair... and I apologize for that. I’ll thus try to approach the question objectively.

First, I’ll pull back what I said earlier, “Essentially, the author should have a conversation with their story, not guide or corral it...This option also makes writing a lot more fun for you as the author! 😄 why? Because every surprise for the reader is also a surprise for you~”

If you’re having fun while writing, it’s a lot easier to keep writing, no? If you know exactly what’s going on at all times, it gets boring. If it’s already panned out in your imagination, why write it at all? To get notes? I will always be an advocate of “write for yourself first and foremost.” This also makes the story more enjoyable for you.

Second, I’m going to address the dreaded writer’s block. A lot of people will say “set the story aside and come back to it later.” To that, I retort with, “No don’t you dare do that because you and I both know you’ll probably never pick it up again.” STAY IN THE ROOM (to quote Ron Carlson). I believe that one of the biggest causes of writer’s block is not knowing where to go. This is a fair observation, yes? Your brain basically says “yup. This story has reached a dead end” and “dead end” translates to “conclusion,” a rather frustrating imaginary/subconscious “the end” even if you feel like you still have more plot points to reach.

But Kay, what do I do to get myself out of this?

If you want to save your story, it’s time to do some editing! Well, okay, maybe not editing, but rereading. You need to take an inventory. Key word, remember it. INVENTORY. This is a literal list of physical objects, characters, and plot points/loose ends. If you write on the fly, there will sometimes be items that appear. You’ll have no idea why they’re there. A lanyard, a book, something as random as a spatula? Sure. If it appears in your story it might be useful later. These are physical objects that your brain can attach to and can move around in your story’s world. Maybe that lanyard thrown so haphazardly into a physical description of the love interest’s backpack becomes a telltale sign that it was them that left that anonymous love letter in your protagonist’s desk because it’s now wrapped up inside. Maybe that book you mentioned when describing the setting turns out to belong to your protagonist’s grandfather and helps them figure out the mysterious anagram that had been left in a dusty diary found in the attic. Maybe that spatula so casually used to make brownies during an interview turns out to be the murder weapon. YOU NEVER KNOW.

I’m going to lump characters and plot points/loose ends together simply because I feel like this is getting hella long (whoops). Personally, I’ve learned how to notice loose ends while I’m writing and will keep a bulleted list of questions or things to be resolved at the end of the document so that I can see it while I’m writing. This lengthy list will often have character names and important traits/facts as well (example: did you mention an age? a day of the week? a season? Did your character ever text back that one dude?). And if you feel like you’re missing something or running low, go back and reread. Your inventory can always increase.

This list will be a lifeline when stuck with writer’s block. You need to resolve SOME of these issues that are now (thank GOODNESS) explicitly listed right in front of you. Even if it doesn’t feel like you’re moving along to your next planned plot point, who cares? 😄 Maybe your story doesn’t want to go there!

And in the end, it is my belief that your story will sound more genuine, more real if you let it speak to you.

I hope this helped! And I look forward to being able to see your fic 😊 keep me posted on how it’s going and if you need any help brainstorming or just want to discuss creative writing in general, I am always down for that.

Much love ~🐰 xx

#personal #writing advice #the ji to my hope #that casual anon #Anonymous

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