#IDK maybe the fandom should stop giving me reasons to be exasperated??? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

apenapaperandadoofus · 3 years

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LISTEN WHY HAS NO ONE IN THE HMC FANDOM TALKED ABOUT THIS??

HMC X PRINCESS AND THE FROG?!

DO I EVEN NEED TO EXPLAIN?!

SOPHIE AS TIANA OH MY GOSH AND HOWL AS NAVEEN?! THEY'RE SO PERFECT?!

Like, oh my gosh you can't tell me this isn't them!!! (Note I'm writing all this from memory so it might not be that accurate lol)

*Party-pooper eHEM" Howl muttered in his arm while he 'coughed.'

Sophie rolled her eyes and kept trying to make her way through the thick woods, moving branches from her way. The sooner she got to this...Mrs. Pentstemmon (i had a seizure and a half writing this and honestly at this point I'm just gonna leave it like that JAJSJSBS) the sooner they could get rid of the curse and Sophie could go back and save her sister from....whoever that was she danced with at Mrs. Fairfax's ball.

"aH stickinthemud" Howl said once again.

Alright, now she's had it. Sophie quickly turned around and pointed her stick at him, making Howl raise both is hands and give her a dazzling smirk.

"Alright now listen here, this 'stick in the mud' has been stuck working in the same place selling hats for her whole life while making sure her sisters are able to fulfill their destinies without any problem, so please forgive me for not weeping at your tale, because while I was working myself to death you were 'busy' in your- your ivory castle chasing poor girls who's hearts you would later eat!"

"....it was polished marble actually..." Howl murmured, making a now very annoyed Sophie grunt in rage and quickly walk as far away from him as she could.

...

OR OR!!!

(IMAGINE WHEN THEY'RE DOING THE WHOLE EVANGELINE SCENE!!! I don't really know if it should be Calcifer singing it tho since y'know, he's a star, Evangeline's a star, so it kinda makes sense??? And then while he's singing Howl tries to grab Sophie's hand for them to dance, but she quickly pulls away.

"I don't know how to dance... I've never done it before..."

Howl thinks she looks like the first time he met her, cowering against that small shop entrance. This time though, he wasn't going to let her slip away so easily. He slowly grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him, making her yelp in surprise. He places her hands on his shoulders and smirks.

"If I can cook, you can dance." He gently pulls her towards him and they start dancing, Sophie letting out small gasps and almost falling every second.

"It'd be more enjoyable if you didn't step on my foot so much Mrs. Two-Left-Feet." He joked, and Sophie grunted, a blush tinting her cheeks.

"I told you I couldn't dance! If your feet end up suffering then it's your fault, and your fault alone, you knew I wasn't good at this."

"Yes, blame me for this! It's always my fault isn't it?" He glared at her, but then softened up again. "Besides, you aren't doing that bad of a job. You're a quick learner, and you know the steps, you just have to learn how to stop being more clumsy, even if that is part of your charm for some strange reason." He teased her once more, and he let out a cry as he felt his poor foot get stomped on again.

"Alright now that one was on purpose." He winced, and was about to have a dig at her once more, before he looked at her face.

She was smiling.

He felt his knees buckle, almost falling to the ground and into the lake besides them.

What in the world had this woman done to him?

He felt his body lean all his weight on Sophie, almost as if he was a puppet who's strings just got cut off.

Sophie was definitely taken aback by that, but she only rolled her eyes and sighed, trying to ack exasperated.

"Oh you silly, silly man." She smiled and bravely hugged him and pulled him closer, although she was sure it was as if another force had gently pushed him towards him. She was only helping him not fall off to the lake....right?

It was a bit strange though, how her cheeks were flushing and her stomach doing spins round and around inside her body.

It must be because it's chilly tonight and I left my shawl with Michael....and my stomach must be acting weird from all this spinning and dancing about, yes that must be it, she thought.

....

AND IMMA JUST LEAVE IT HERE BC I AM ACTUALLY REALLY TIRED AND TOMORROW I GOTTA STUDY SOOO

BUT I MEAN ITS CUTE RIGHT?? RIGHT?? I tried to write a bit more in DWJs style but I'm not a FRIGGEN genius like her so I probably butchered it ajsjsjs this also is super raw and in like...the early stages maybe? Idk if I should write a small fan fic about it, who knows.

I also don't know what the curse should be...

I'm between the original curses or them both being frogs ajsjsjs (wouldn't that be a bit funny thoo, just Howl panicking because OH GOD IM ALL S L I M Y AND GROSS!! NOT ONLY THAT, I AM GREEN, CALCIFER, GREEN! SOMEONE PLEASE END MY SUFFERING, I SEE NO POINT IN LIVING ANYMORE!!!"

#hmc book #howls moving castle #howp pendragon #sophie hatter #howl jenkins #howl x sophie #snapdragon #?#isn't thah their ship name? bc i love it so much ajsjsjsjs #howls moving castle book #book howl #book sophie

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ardett · 3 years

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all dead hearts to you

Description: George and Dream have never met in person. It isn’t a problem until Dream calls George to tell him he’s going to kill himself.

check this out on Ao3 if you wanna be cool!

Author’s Note: Not me crashing recklessly into another fandom (also this is assuming sapnap went home to Texas after living with dream idk let me live)

title from Dead Hearts by Stars

also I'm new here, anyone wanna give me a welcome to the boys?

warnings: suicide warning (obviously) but no actual suicide, general anxiety and panic attacks

It’s 3am when George gets Dream’s call.

Late, but only really for him. It’s still before midnight in Florida, right around 10pm. He’d like to say that he’s so practiced with converting time zones that he doesn’t even have to think about it but he still has to count backwards on his fingers, thinking on the jump between late late nights and early mornings.

He’s still awake but the leds in his room have been turned to red, set to the dimmest mode. He was streaming with Quackity up until about half an hour ago and his room has settled back into quiet again.

He feels the thrum of anxiety as he hears the ringtone. Dream usually only calls him when George is about to sleep through something important or if he’s on the road. George wonders if he forgot something today or maybe he let something slip on his call with Quackity.

Now that it’s on his mind, he realizes that he hasn’t heard from Dream all day. Or yesterday?

They’ve both been busy, though George has been busy with the usual things and Dream said something about needing to put his affairs in order or whatever that meant. They usually text at least but even that has been quieter.

George grabs his phone off his desk and picks up the call.

“Dream. What’s up?” he asks. George runs a quick hand through his hair, checking his screen quickly. It’s a real phone call, not even a discord call. “Hey, I’m putting you on speaker. I’m gonna put on my pajamas.”

He’s about to set the phone on his dresser when Dream says, “Oh, I probably shouldn’t be on speaker.”

There’s something off in his tone. Something flat. It sets George’s nerves on edge.

“Yeah? Okay.” George tucks the phone back by his ear, slumping back on his bed. “Did you have something you had to tell me?”

“Yeah. George, I’m going to kill myself.”

Everything in George stills.

And then starts to spin.

“What?”

“I’m going to—”

“You’re not serious.” George jerks upright, ignoring the lightheaded feeling sinking its fingers into his skull. “Dream, this isn’t funny.”

“I don’t think it is. It’s just going to happen.”

There’s not even a tremor in Dream’s voice. George can’t feel anything past the bone deep shock in his system.

All he can think of is Dream, wrists bloody and split open. Dream, fingertips dusted white with the residue of unnamed pills. Dream, rope burns fracturing the long line of his neck.

Dream, dead.

How is he even going to do it? Is he actually going to do it? George wants to ask but then he realizes he doesn’t want to know.

He imagines the first time he sees Dream in person is when he attends his funeral.

He imagines all the words he’s held in for so long, waiting and waiting for the moment he could say them to Dream face to face, finally being said to dead air.

But George can’t say that so all he manages is an obstinate, “No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Stop disagreeing with me.”

“George,” Dream laughs. Laughs.

George feels dizzy with the disbelief swirling inside him. Surely this can’t be happening. What reason would Dream have to make this up though? Dream would never joke about something like this. Why is he laughing?

How can Dream be so casual when George’s world is shattering?

He doesn’t know what a future without Dream looks like.

They’ve always lived miles apart but Dream has never felt so far away. George has never felt like this. Like he couldn’t reach him.

“Dream.” Dream’s laugh cuts off as soon as he hears the plea in George’s voice. “Is something wrong? Are you— I can come there. I can be with you tomorrow. Sapnap can stay with you again. You don’t have to do this—”

“I know. But I want to. So I’m going to.” Any trace of mirth is gone. Dream sounds the same way he did when he decided he was going to break a world record or make YouTube work for him.

Determined. Steadfast. His voice has the steely confidence of knowing he won’t fail.

Usually it’s inspiring but now the familiarity of it just makes George sick. He’s never known Dream to be someone content with failure.

George's phone digs into his palm as his grip spasms. He tastes blood.

And he doesn’t even know why yet.

“What happened? Whatever it is, we can fix it.”

Dream sighs. “Nothing’s wrong, George.”

“There has to be something wrong. You can tell me,” George insists. Then he changes tactics and lies through his teeth. “I swear I won’t tell anyone else. We can work this out together, just the two of us. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“I already told you nothing’s wrong,” Dream repeats.

“Then why would you… do that?” George trips over the word, rephrases it instead.

And then Dream rips that tiny defense to shreds.

“You can say it you know,” Dream says. “I’m going to kill myself. You should probably get used to it actually. People are going to ask you about it. I’m sorry about that,” he adds as an afterthought.

The harsh, blunt words sting against George’s skin.

“Don’t apologize,” he strangles out. “Don’t apologize for that out of everything. Just don’t do it.”

“George,” Dream breathes, exasperated.

“I just don’t understand,” George begs. For the first time, his voice wavers.

Dream, cold gun in his cold hands. Dream, long limbs hanging over the railing of a bridge as he stares down. Dream, slumped over his table with a bottle of vodka nestled near his feet.

Dream, dead.

Dead.

“Don’t cry, okay?” Dream’s voice softens. George forgot how gentle Dream could be with him when he wanted.

“I didn’t want to make you cry. Look, it’s just…” Dream trails off. Eventually, he continues even quieter. “This is it, you know? This is the top, this is the peak. It can’t go on like this forever, crazy numbers on videos and trending on twitter and all that shit. I’d rather go out like this than wait to hit the bottom. Doesn’t that make sense?” Dream persuades.

“No,” George insists, all the air leaving his lungs at once.

“Come on, George. Can you even picture yourself growing old? What happens when we’re 30, 40, and all of this is gone. Do you want that?”

The sick part of it all is that George has imagined the future. He imagines it lovingly, not viciously. Not like this.

He imagined a future with Sapnap and Bad and Karl and Quackity but most of all with Dream. He wants so badly to be with him. Sapnap talked about living together, how great parts of it had been, how he would have stayed if he hadn’t had to return home for family, and George so selfishly wants that for himself.

And he’s always known that’s not what Dream pictured. Dream doesn’t want what he wants. Dream doesn’t want to grow old with someone, much less George.

Can you even picture yourself growing old?

It hurts because George can and he always wanted it to be with Dream.

“What are you even saying? Do you want me to kill myself too?” George bites. He scrubs viciously at his eyes and stabs at the power button of his computer, teeth piercing into his lip as he waits for it to turn on.

“No, no, of course not. I would never— Come on, that’s obviously not what I’m saying.”

George fumbles with his keyboard, pulling up his discord messages with Sapnap.

He just needs someone else to help him, someone else to know. Someone who can do what he can’t. Someone who isn’t as fucking helpless as him, who doesn’t live an ocean away and who has never seen Dream in person and has never touched Dream, not once, has never known what the sun feels like in Florida.

Of course he was lying when he said this was going to stay between the two of them.

This isn’t the kind of thing he can do alone.

George: Sapnap dream says hes going

George: to kill himself

George: you have to get someone to him

George: call 999

George: 911

Sapnap: what

George: please now sap Im on the phone with him

Sapnap: are you joking

George: no

George: do it

George: please fast now

“Are you typing?” Dream questions, a note of warning in his tone.

George jerks. “No, I—”

He’s cut off by a beeping from his phone.

His heart stops.

“What’s that sound?” Dream asks.

Sapnap is calling him.

George can picture him, knee jumping as he clutches his phone, hoping against hope that George is joking. He can practically hear the adrenaline trembling in Sapnap’s voice, can see the way Sapnap stands and paces.

He can’t answer though. He can’t leave Dream.

George declines the call, hand shaking.

“Who was that?” The question is flat.

“No one,” George says too quickly.

“No one?” Dream repeats. Only a second or two passes before George hears the same beep through his phone speaker, this time coming from Dream’s end. “Wow look who’s calling me. Sapnap. Wonder if he changed his name to No One,” Dream says without emotion.

Sapnap: fck are you serious

George bites his tongue, wincing.

“Dream—”

George: y

George can’t manage to type anything more before Dream snarls, “You’re such a fucking snitch, you know that? It’s fine though, I thought this might happen. I was gonna call him after you, for the record.” It almost sounds like Dream is smiling. George’s heart twists. Why is he smiling? “I know you have to try as a friend to save me, or whatever you want to call it, but you really don’t have to. I want to do this. I’m going to.

“It’s not like you could really stop me anyway,” Dream continues. “You don’t even know where I live. You barely know what I look like. What, are you going to ask the police to search the entire state of Florida?”

“Sapnap knows,” George whispers.

He tries to shake off the savagery seeping into Dream’s voice. He tells himself Dream is defensive, Dream is nervous, Dream is scared. Dream isn’t thinking about what he’s really saying.

Though things have never mattered before, the fact George has never been to Florida, that George has never seen Dream in person. But now Dream is weaponizing them against him, forcing George to acknowledge that for everything their relationship is, it can never replace an in person friendship. And Dream has always been a better fighter than George.

“No, he doesn’t. Me and Sap rented a house, remember? We never went to my house. I never sent him my actual address, I checked.” And Dream sounds so smug. Like he won.

George’s gaze darts back to his computer.

But he already knows Dream isn’t a liar.

Sapnap: I dont know his address

Sapnap: fuck

Sapnap: Im calling bad

Sapnap: dont let him hang up

“People are so dumb about it, you know? They tell all their friends and then they get caught before actually doing it,” Dream goes on, not paying attention to George’s disconsolate silence.

“But you’re telling me,” George mutters. Hopelessness strings through him.

Sapnap isn’t writing anything else. George can only hope Bad picked up.

“Yeah but you’re literally in another country. What are you going to do about it?”

George can’t manage any words. He doesn’t even know if he remembers how to breathe.

Dream is right, he always seems to be right. George just wishes it wasn’t about this. Anything but this. He has to believe that Sapnap and Bad will figure something out. He has to trust them.

“Just think about how many people are found before they actually do it,” Dream goes on in George’s quiet. “Because they can’t commit. Most people are cowards. It’s dumb honestly. Just do it or don’t.”

“Don’t then,” George whispers.

His eyes burn with unshed tears. His fingers spasm on his bedsheets.

He doesn’t know what Dream wants. Does he want George to beg? To get on his knees and plead with him to save his own life? Because he would in a heartbeat but he doubts it would make a difference.

Dream sighs. “I feel like you’re not listening to me, George.”

“No, I am.” George’s voice rises with his wrath. Suddenly all his terror and frustration comes to a bursting point. “I’m listening. I’m listening to you talk about killing yourself. I just think you’re wrong. I think it would be a lot fucking braver to stay alive even if your views go down, even if you’re not fucking famous, Dream. What the fuck? You’re a fucking coward for trying to leave!” George’s breaths heave through the staticy phone microphone. His fear and anger wind him.

There’s a moment of emptiness.

Then, lip curling, Dream says, “Trying to leave you?”

George chokes.

“What?”

“Don’t try and pull this card, George. That’s what you’re trying to say, isn’t it? I’m a coward for leaving everyone behind? For leaving you?”

Dream’s voice drowns out George’s. George flinches, though Dream can’t see it.

“Don’t be so fucking selfish. I hate that, you know that?” Dream growls. “Everyone thinks they’re enough to save someone all by themselves. Wow, the sheer force of your love just fucking yanked me back from the edge of a cliff, give me a fucking break,” Dream scoffs. George’s ribs feel tight. “You can’t just reverse psychology or guilt me out of this.”

“Jesus, Dream, is it so hard to believe that maybe I care about you and I don’t want you to fucking die?” George grits out.

The room swims before him. He can’t remember how to uncurl his fingers.

“Well it’s not up to you, is it?” Dream practically smirks.

And that’s it, isn’t it? The winning phrase. Because Dream’s right.

It’s not up to George.

George can only listen helplessly as Dream considers his own grave. He’s a constant witness to the storm that is Dream. He was always grateful to be dragged along in Dream’s hurricane winds and now he dreads the day they calm.

“You’re being cruel,” George murmurs. His aggression leaves him as soon as it came.

“I’m being honest,” Dream contends.

George sinks his head into his hands. “Why did you even call me then? To— to gloat?”

Dream’s voice goes low and quiet, vulnerable. George’s insides twist and melt and contort. “No, no, I just… I don’t know. I just wanted to talk to you one more time.”

“Don’t say that,” George hisses. The words are half muffled into his palms.

“Don’t say what?” Dream asks defensively.

“Don’t say one more time. You can’t— you can’t—'' It all hits George at once. He’s going to lose him.

He’s going to lose Dream.

Before he knows it, he’s sobbing into the phone, loud ugly heaving sobs. “Don’t do it, Dream. I’m serious. Please— Just wait for one of us to get there. We can be with you. We can help.”

Dream’s voice hardens again. “You mean you can stop me.”

“Dream—” George starts to beg, trying to figure out how to lie without Dream catching him.

But Dream beats him to it.

“I’m gonna hang up now—”

Panic rips through George. The shock of it physically hurts in his veins, in his heart.

“No!” he almost screams. “Dream, Dream, don’t hang up—”

“Oh my god, relax. I’m calling Sapnap. I’m not doing anything yet.” He can almost hear Dream rolling his eyes. It’s not comforting.

George sniffles. He knows it sounds pathetic. He’s not one for pity but if it gets Dream to keep talking with him, he’s willing to stoop to any low. He just doesn’t know if he can believe Dream.

“Can’t you just… stay on the phone with me?”

“What, forever? Is that your plan? Just keep me on the line until someone inevitably finds me somehow?” Dream mocks.

Yes.

“No,” George says instead because he thinks it’s what Dream wants to hear.

Dream switches tactics. George recognizes the persuasion in his tone.

“Don’t you want me to call Sapnap? Shouldn’t he also get the chance to talk with me?” Dream questions.

Guilts rests against George’s ribs.

Of course he wants Sapnap to get the chance to talk to Dream. What if this is their last chance to talk? But George is too selfish to think about it much.

“That’s not what you’re asking me. Don’t try and pull that shit. You’re asking me to hang up. You’re asking for me to say goodbye and I’m…” George’s voice drops, almost inaudible. “I’m not ready.”

“George…” Dream’s voice trails off. His next words are nearly silent, something bitter and mournful about them. “You know I love you, right?”

“I know,” George mumbles.

“Are you gonna say it back to me?” Dream demands. George doesn’t know what holds him back now but something does.

“You know I do, Dream, why—”

The dial tone rings in George’s ears.

Dream hung up.

Not even 30 seconds pass, not nearly enough for the abrupt end of their call to sink in, when George’s phone is ringing again. He fumbles with his screen but manages to pick up.

“George?”

George’s heart sinks. It’s not the voice he wants to hear. That he needs to hear.

“Bad?”

“Yeah,” Bad affirms. “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay? Am I—” George scoffs and it feels like it rips his throat. He feels like he wants to scream. Like he wants to punch a wall. Like he would give anything to be somewhere warmer right now. “No, I’m obviously not okay, Bad. He’s going to— to—”

“I know. Sapnap told me.”

Bad’s voice is collected, even. It just makes George more frustrated. How can everyone be so fucking calm about this?

“George, just try to take some deep breaths, okay?” George ignores the suggestion. “Sapnap is on the phone with Dream. He just hung up on me to talk to him. I’m driving there right now, okay?”

George pauses. Something cold washes over him. He doesn’t know yet if it’s relief.

“You’re— you’re driving to Dream?”

“Yes,” Bad affirms. “We just have to keep him talking to someone for the next hour—”

“Hour? Are you serious? That’s too long!” George knows he’s screaming now. He doesn’t care.

“George—”

“We have to call an ambulance, the police. There has to be someone we can call.”

George squeezes his eyes shut, trying to think of other ways they could possibly get there in time. He comes up blank. He can’t accept it. He can’t.

Dream, alone. Dream, bereft. Dream, dead.

“I know but I can’t— I was trying to tell you.” Bad’s words are muffled. It sounds like he’s biting the inside of his cheek. He confesses, “I don’t know his exact address. Sapnap is going to try and get it while he talks to him. I’m driving to Orlando and hopefully Sap knows it by the time I get there but we’re just—”

“No, no, no—”

George thinks of Bad arriving just in time to find Dream’s body still warm. He’s going to be sick. His chest hurts. His lungs burn.

“Try and take some deep breaths—” Bad placates as George speaks over him.

“I’m never going to talk to him again. He’s going to kill himself.” George is spiraling. He can’t stop himself.

“George, I’m going to get there in time.” But Bad doesn’t sound sure of himself. George zeros in on the weakness.

“You don’t know that,” George hisses.

“This is hard for all of us, George!” George startles at Bad’s yell. He’s heard Bad raise his voice before but never at him, never seriously. “I’m sorry,” Bad apologizes, words quieting again. George hears a sniffle through the phone.

Bad’s crying.

God, George is a terrible person. He didn’t even think to check in on Bad. Bad’s the one who might find Dream halfway there or already committed. He’s the only one who’s even close to being able to do something and maybe that’s the worst position to be in.

To be so close and lose a friend anyway.

“You don’t have to apologize. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t… I know it’s hard for all of us. I know you’re doing everything you can. You’re doing more than me.” George tries to laugh but it gets stuck in his throat. It’s not funny anyway.

“It’s going to be okay,” but it doesn’t even sound like Bad believes himself.

“I don’t think I can talk about this anymore,” George murmurs. He feels exhausted. There’s so much adrenaline coursing through him that it hurts. “Can we just talk about something else just… just for a little?” he begs. Like anything could distract him from this.

“Yeah George.” George can hear the sympathy in Bad’s voice. He’s too far gone for the pity to bother him. “Let me— Let me tell you about what I did this weekend on the SMP.”

George sucks in a sharp inhale. “Not— not the SMP. Can you talk about something else?”

“Of course,” Bad agrees easily. “So last Friday I went to visit my family…”

George lets Bad talk in the background. Every once in a while, one of them will sniffle or sob or take a breath that’s too shaky to be normal. Neither of them mentions it.

George listens to people walk past his window, their voices carrying up into the stars.

The noises of the highway drone on through his phone.

Bad drives.

George thinks about what it would be like to go on without Dream.

He’ll never be the same, he already knows. It will haunt him for years. For the rest of his life. The thought of being so close to someone and then losing them.

Death is natural. He knows that. But it’s the intentionality of it that aches the most. The idea that Dream would leave behind everything for something so painful and unknown.

And George just knows… part of him will die with Dream and never come back.

George doesn’t know who he’ll be with that part missing.

part 1/3, though the next update won’t really be an update but it will be soon

#dreamnotfound #dnf #just gotta get those tags out of the way #dream smp #fanfiction #dream smp fanfiction #dnf fanfic #tw suicide #mcyt #mcyt fanfiction #thewar #dream team #pls just go to Ao3 I'm begging you

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our-smooty · 4 years

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Flowerbeds and Fertile Soil: Chapter 5

Fandom: Good Omens

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens, )Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer

Tags: Kidfic, Mpreg kind of, they can choose to present however so idk, Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has A Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has A Vulva (Good Omens), OCs Galor, parenting, using your snake form to avoid confrontation, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pregnancy, if I missed a tag lemme know

Summary: They could do anything, go anywhere, all without the worry of Above or Bellow making a fuss. Even so, they mostly kept to their little patch of Eden, their cottage and garden and the simple life they’d carved out among the locals. Aziraphale opened a book shop in town, where he only occasionally sold any books (and the ones he did sell, were all modern and stocked specifically for that purpose). Crowley focused his attentions on the garden, and if he occasionally helped their elderly neighbour with her disobedient willow tree, then that was a secret no one needed to know. Lately, however, they had both been feeling rather restless, unbeknownst to each other. Aziraphale tried reorganizing his store, changing the way he tied his bowtie and even ate pizza –something he considered to be far too messy for him personally. Crowley had branched out into birdwatching, and then car maintenance (the human way), and even reading. Nothing scratched the itch for either of them.

Ao3 Link

My Ko-Fi

3 days later, they finally wore each other out. By the end of the last day Crowley was practically incapable of speaking and Aziraphale was a jittering mass of sensation. They stopped when the mutual shaking of their bodies made it nearly impossible to continue. Shortly thereafter, they both fell asleep after a very half-hearted miracle from the demon to clean things up. Crowley couldn’t have cared less himself but knew the angel would be very uncomfortable and upset when the woke up if they didn’t get clean. It was the least he could do, after innumerable orgasms.

Crowley’s sleep was deep and dreamless which was rare for him. Even all those times when he napped away months and decades there had been frequent strange--sometimes upsetting--dreams that forced him awake. It was probably one of the reasons those naps lasted so long; it was hard to feel rested if you can’t actually rest. But this time Crowley was out like one of Aziraphale’s Heavenly lights for just two days, practically a catnap, and when he woke he felt hazy, but rejuvenated.

With a satisfied sigh and a great big stretch, Crowley burrowed under to covers, a stupid smile on his face. He felt fantastic, especially since his sleep had let him skip any muscle soreness. All that was left was the pleasant buzzing of a very satisfied libido. Again he reached down to touch his lower belly, something akin to giddy nervousness. Would he know right away? Or would he have to wait like any old human? It wasn’t like there was a president.

In the end he didn’t spend too much time luxuriating in their bed. Mostly because he could hear Aziraphale downstairs and the idea of getting some morning snuggles--even if it was nearly noon--appealed to him greatly. The getting up and getting dressed part was only a little tricky; even after three days his legs still felt a little wobbly, but in the end he managed it without using a miracle. Comfy clothes in place Crowley made a quick pit stop in the bathroom to brush his teeth, then meandered down the stairs into the living room where he knew Aziraphale would be curled up with a book and a cuppa.

“Hello dearest,” Aziraphale greeted, setting his book aside to pat the couch beside him. Crowley folded himself into the space and over the angel’s lap. “Did you have a good rest?”

Crowley nodded making a grabbing gesture for Aziraphale’s cup of tea, which he was passed very without complaint. Contrary to his taste in coffee, Crowley liked his tea very sweet and milky, which luckily lined up with his lover’s tastes exactly. He handed the cup back to Aziraphale and nuzzled further into the angel’s shoulder. “Lunch?”

Aziraphale wiggled happily, setting the tea aside with his book and drawing Crowley in closer. “I heard that the pub in town has been getting very fresh produce this summer and have been using it to make the most delicious tea sandwiches.”

“Sounds good angel, they have that cider too, yeah? The kind with ginger in it?” The sandwiches he could take or leave, and usually he’d give his portion to Aziraphale just to watch him enjoy them. Alcohol though was always something he enjoyed.

“Yes, but I think we should be avoiding that now, shouldn't we?” Crowley frowned in confusion for a few seconds before he groaned.

“Aziraphale… We don’t even know if its--If I’m--” He was really going to have to get over this inability to talk about it.

“Still, it’s good to get into the habit, and I’m sure they have some lovely non-alcoholic drinks we can enjoy.”

“We? S’not like you can’t drink,” he groused, fiddling with the buttons on Aziraphale’s waistcoat, thoroughly prepared to throw himself into an epic sulk.

Aziraphale made a considering noise. “It wouldn’t be fair though, would it? I don’t think I’d feel right, indulging while you can’t.” That made him feel… something. Grateful maybe? Or embarrassed. Either way it calmed him down enough to avert a really moody disaster. Curse Aziraphale for being so attentive and sweet and not giving Crowley any reason to have a really good brood.

“Fine. But I’m ordering the most expensive, most complicated drink they have. And I might even send it back,” Crowley grumped. Aziraphale giggled and pressed a kiss to the demon’s sleep-mussed hair, which was entirely too pleasant for the simple gesture it was. It made Crowley want to turn into a snake and curl up in the angel’s lap and forget about going for lunch.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else, my dear. Shall we get ready to go? I’m sure you don’t want to go out in your loungewear.” It was Crowley’s turn to laugh and plant a kiss on the angel’s cheek with an exasperated eye-roll.

“They’re trackies angel, not loungewear. You’re such an old man.” He still didn’t get off the sofa though. “No idea why I want to have your k-kid, to be honest.”

“Love probably has something to do with it,” Aziraphale teased lightly. Crowley grumbled but didn’t deny anything. Not like he could have, with how badly he was blushing. Damn these human corporations and their vascular systems.

“Shut up,” he groused, snuggling further into the warmth and softness of his lover’s well-worn jacket. “When do you want to leave?” Crowley knew it was best to let the angel set the pace, lest Aziraphale get himself into a tizzy.

Aziraphale considered briefly before nodding decisively. “I think I’d like to remain here for a little while, if that’s alright. I’m enjoying just sitting here with you.”

“Mmm, fine with me. You’re warm.” His snakey nature shone through in moments like this, and Crowley had the secret suspicion that Aziraphale had been gradually increasing his natural body temperature since they had begun living together to cater to his reptilian side. He couldn’t find the will to complain about it.

“Splendid. We’ll head out in a little bit.” Aziraphale used the hand not around Crowley’s shoulders to reclaim his tea and they took turns sipping. If the tea lasted longer than it really should have between them, Crowley was willing to let it slide because it gave him more time to cuddle up to his angel. Miraculously, the pub would have a large number of tea sandwiches still ready and fresh when they got there, despite the fact they regularly sold out.

The next 2 months were a flurry of sex, cuddling, and preparation for Pulcifer-Device child number three. They were eventually forced to stop their near-constant state of being in bed or recovering from being in bed to watch Lottie and Annabella while Anathema and Newt made final preparations--and got as much sleep as possible before--their newest addition. Luckily their South Downs cottage was already equipped with a room specially made for the girls and they were both more than prepared to watch them for at least a week at a time. Though they still paniced occasionally becuause raising the Anti-Christ was one thing, especially since they really hadn’t been raising him so much as influence. Taking care of and watching over two little girls who they were invested in was entirely another.

In the final week before Anathema was due Aziraphale had offered to have Lottie and Bella stay over at the cottage until the baby arrived. Anathema had readily agreed--probably desperate to get some rest before the big day--and Newt had brought them and all of their supplies over. As far as they knew, this was just another fun trip to spend some time with their uncles, and not a brief respite for their parents. Crowley did not envy Anathema and Newt having to deal with two children under 5 all the time.

“Crowley, why are the girls eating ice cream for breakfast?” Aziraphale asked as he strolled into the kitchen on the second day. Both Annabella and Charlotte had heaping servings of chocolate ice cream in front of them, and on them, and on the table. It was an impressive mess. Crowley glanced up from where he’d been scrolling through his phone and shrugged.

“They asked for it. Figured after the tummy aches set in they’ll never ask again, or this’ll be one of those “fantastic childhood memories” humans like so much.” Aziraphale tutted and snapped, changing the bowls of ice cream to whole wheat pancakes and fruit. Lottie sighed dramatically but didn’t complain too much because the angel had made sure to stack her plate high with strawberries, which were her favourite. Bella on the other hand was only three and did not appreciate her sugary feast being replaced. Crowley saw the subtle chin wobble and furrowing of her tiny brow and immediately glared at Aziraphale.

“Big mistake angel,” he drawled just as she took in a deep breath. Aziraphale gave him a confused look before the situation seemed to strike him all at once. It was too late though, because in the next second she let out an ear-piercing screech that could have rivalled Beezlebub on a bad day. “At least the ice cream was keeping them quiet.”

“You can't give children pure sugar for breakfast, Crowley! It’s not good for them and I would expect you to know better!” Aziraphale near-shouted, wringing his hands this way and that as he hovered around his youngest god-daughter. Lottie was still calmly eating her strawberries and making a mess out the pancakes by squishing them up and pushing them off the plate. It was a far cry from the peace Crowley had created with the ice cream.

“You think I didn’t miracle away most of the sugar and other gunk before giving it to them? I’m not an amateur Aziraphale.” Crowley rolled his eyes and stood, procuring a can of whipped cream from thin air and dolloping a fair-sized amount on each girl's portion. Almost immediately Bella began to quiet, but Crowley wasn’t finished. “Use your words, Bella. What do you say to Uncle Aziraphale and your sister?”

She squirmed and pouted before relenting. “Sorry for yelling.”

“Good, now finish your breakfast and then we can go to the park yeah?” She nodded happily and began to dig into her food. “And Charlotte for Somebody's sake stop making a mess and just eat your food. You aren’t a baby and you don’t need to mush it up, do you?”

Aziraphale watched with wide eyes as Crowley completely diffuse the situation he had created. The demon could feel his nervous, unsure energy from across the room. He vanished the whipped cream--because he knew his god-daughters well enough not to trust them around it without close supervision--and gave the angel a pat on the shoulder. “S’not good to spring stuff on them like that angel. Besides, it’s gonna be confusing enough for them when the baby shows up, might as well let them have some fun.”

“I didn’t think--I’m sorry dear.” Aziraphale physically deflated. “I’m rubbish with children, aren’t I?”

Crowley sighed and pulled Aziraphale into his side, not trapping him in a hug just in case Bella’s screaming earlier had been too overwhelming. “You just need some practise angel. We can work on it.”

“No more sugary stuff for breakfast though, alright dear? Even if you do make it healthier, I don’t want them going back homing and demanding sweets.” Crowley supposed that was fair, though he might still sneak the girls a little something when Aziraphale wasn’t looking. It was only right, especially with how busy Anathema and Newt would be with the new baby over the next few months.

“Sure. Are you coming to the park with us?” Crowley asked, nuzzling into Aziraphale’s jawline and taking in a big whiff of that familiar sunlight and book glue smell. Normally Crowley could do this for hours, basking in the fact that he was allowed to do something as absurd as sniff his angel now, but this time there was something wrong. Aziraphale smelled off and bad and Crowley jerked back, automatically throwing a hand over his mouth while sprinting to the sink.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale asked, voice dripping with concern. “Crowley, what’s wrong?”

At the table, Charlotte and Annabella looked up from their breakfasts with wide eyes. “Uncle Azi is Uncle Crowley alrigh--ahh!” Bella screamed as Crowley heaved over the kitchen sink and threw up the coffee he’d had for breakfast. And then the remnants of the chips he’d stolen from Aziraphale’s plate the night before. And then, when there was nothing left, he kept retching and retching until he could taste the bitter-poison taste of bile coat his tongue.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale said again, rushing over and holding back the demon’s hair to prevent any more sick getting stuck in it. “Oh goodness, what happened? Are you ill; can demons even get sick? Tell me what to do!”

“Ngk--shhhh” Crowley hissed, spitting the last of the sick in his mouth out into the sink and gagging at the smell. “M’fine, need water.” Immediately there was a glass of ice cold water being thrust into his hand and fluttering hands combing through his hair. The water helped with the bad taste and with the strange, unexpected nausea, but I didn't do anything for the sudden dizziness he felt. “Think I’m… I’m gonna pass out..”

The edges of his vision began to fade out as his ears began to ring. Faintly he could hear Bella and Lottie’s upset little voices talking over Aziraphale’s equally panicked one, followed by a firm grip keeping him mostly upright and the shattering of glass. Angel’s could be strong, when they needed to be. Crowley sagged into Aziraphale’s arms bonelessly and completely out of it. He wasn’t sure if seconds or minutes had passed but eventually things began to calm down and right themselves. His vision came back--when everything had gone fully black and reddish he wasn’t sure--and he could distinctly hear the sound of Aziraphale asking Lottie to get him Crowley’s cell phone from the table. It sounded like the angel was about to call someone, but who? 999 wasn’t exactly equipped to deal with occult beings passing out in their kitchens.

“Zzzzira?” he slurred, wondering when they had gotten on the floor. “Wha’happened?”

“I’m not sure dear,” Aziraphale’s voice was shaking, clearly terrified. “You were throwing up and then you just… you just fainted. How are you feeling now?”

It was still difficult to string thoughts together, but Crowley knew he needed to for Aziraphale and the girls. “Hot, kinda sick. You smelled… wrong. Who’re you calling?”

“I-I’m not sure. I thought maybe one of our friends, Madame Tracy is a bit of a Jack of All Trades, she might know what to do…”

“Absolutely not. She’ll bring Shadwell and I don’t think I can deal with him right now,” he groaned, wiggling into a sitting position. “I’m already feeling better angel, I’m OK.”

“Uncle Crowley?” a tiny voice to his left called out. Both girls stood back a few feet, clutching at each other and looking entirely too worried. If Crowley thought worrying Aziraphale was bad, he was entirely unprepared for the way those scared faces made him feel.

“Come’ere,” he said, opening his arms so they could each bury themselves in one of his shoulders. Aziraphale leaned in too, wrapping his arms around Crowley’s waist and pulling him close to his chest. “I’m alright, sorry I scared you.”

“You threw up and passed out Crowley, I wouldn’t call that alright in any sense of the word,” Aziraphale murmured into his hair. “Can you tell me what happened, at least?”

Crowley thought for a bit, idly twisting and playing with the girls’ hair. “I was OK and then I smelled you and it made me feel sick, and then I was on the floor,” he explained, starting a more complicated braid in Lottie’s hair. “You didn’t smell any different than normal but it was just… not good.”

Behind him Aziraphale hummed. “I still think we should call someone.” Crowley grunted and refused to respond, hoping that if he didn’t acknowledge it that Aziraphale would drop the idea. Besides, he felt fine now, maybe a little weak, but in general ok. In front of him Bella squirmed out of his grip, wrinkling her nose at the smell from the sink.

“It’s like mummy,” she said, pinching her nose. Both Crowley and Aziraphale’s head snapped towards her.

“What do you mean, sweety?”

Bella made a face and stuck her tongue out in disgust. “Mummy got sick, when the baby was starting to grow in her tummy.” Suddenly, everything clicked into place and Crowley’s stomach dropped and fluttered at the same time. Aziraphale went inhumanly still at his back; no breathing, no heartbeat.

“Morning sickness…” Crowley wheezed, the plait he was working on slipping from his fingers. “Makes sense, the sensitivity to smells, the sick, the dizziness.”

“Does it?” Aziraphale squeaked. Crowley laughed a little, surprised at how out-of-depth the angel sounded.

“Didn’t you watch over Eve in the Garden?”

“Yes but--!” Aziraphale blustered. “I didn’t ask about those things Crowley, that would have been rude!”

“Oh of course,” Crowley intoned. The only reason he didn’t roll his eyes was because he was worried it might make him dizzy again. “Wouldn’t want to ask anything inappropriate.”

“Quite.” They fell silent again outside of Bella’s continued complaints about the smell. “Wait does this mean you’re--?”

“Yup,” Crowley answered his voice wobbling up and down in a distinctly freaked-out way. “Also, I need you to get a bucket, cause I’m pretty sure I’m about to get sick everywhere again in about 10 seconds.”

#fanfic #good omens #gomens #ineffable husbands #aziraphale/crowley #azirapahel #crowley #crowziraphale #mpre

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dcarhcarts · 5 years

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This.....is the 1000th post on this blog, and I definitely waited until that could be true to post it, and that’s honestly? Very fitting. Seriously, you guys are a m a z i n g and I have literally never done a milestone before so I can’t tell you what it’s supposed to look like?? But we’ve somehow Miraculously (tm) managed to reach 100 followers and - anyway, this is going to be me very unprofessionally gushing about everyone because....I love you all and you’re all amazing aaaaaa. I’m??? Literally so blessed to have made friends and write with all of you. Y’all with multiple blogs, I’m only tagging once so I don’t spam your feed ok? And - as usual, this is going to get Long, because everything I do gets Long apparently. I tried to do it chronologically but IDK how well it worked oops.

THE LOVES OF MY LIFE, THE SUN IN MY EYES, MY MOON AND STARS

@ccrrupticn / D!!!! you are?? literally the reason I made this blog?? Without you, this thing would n o t mcfreaking exist omg!! You’re such an amazing writer (seriously, you manage so many muses and you give them all such distinct voices??? witchcraft???) and also so ???ridiculously kind! I love gushing to you about our Kids and you’re honestly A Saint (tm) for dealing with all of my blog construction/life related breakdowns, my crazy crossover headcanons and crashing into your inbox rambling about musicals <3 I miss talking to you so hmu whenever you come back if you want!!

@personnages / Lynna!! You’re like an Actual Angel. I think you were the first person!! who talked to me?? And You were So Nice and Welcoming that you literally soothed half of my fears coming into rpc like immediately?? You basically helped me figure out how diminutives work and you’re responsible for me adding at least 3 of my muses and I cannot tell you how much I love you and every time you pop onto my dash/feed/discord/etc, it just makes me happy inside <3 Definitely 100000% will follow you to every blog (if you’ll have me lmao) regardless of fandom!! i’m super excited about all of our ship/friendship roulettes and you’re just an absolute joy to talk to.

@nikolacvnas / LYDIA goodness you are a W O N D E R. Probably the best? Historically based blog I’ve ever encountered, and definitely one of my favorite parts of the Anastasia rpc!! The care and research and attention to detail that goes into your portrayals are a s t o n i s h i n g? Your Tatya is divine, your Maria is So Lovely and I Cry For Joy that you write Dima honestly. I’d been eyeing your blog for a little bit before I made my own - and I was honestly a little scared of you when we started cause you are a GODDESS and I am a potato, but then we talked??? and you’re hilarious and a ridiculously kind person and I love you? And of course, I love your dog (the cutest in the universe).

@mythostold / LESLIE~ Different blog, same story~ Man, I’ve been following you since maybe day two of this blog being active? No matter which fandom you end up in and which muse you write, you have such!! good!!! takes!!! For one, I love reading your meta posts??? Like you’re just so incredibly passionate about your muses?? And your writing style is so good aaaaaaa it’s so atmospheric. And on top of all of that - you’re??? such a sweet and incredible??? person??? And I love talking to you boo <3

@lifeawoke / NAT BBYSWEET <3 <3 <3 I have told the story of how I did a victory dance when you followed me to d e a t h probably but it’s t r u e your writing is amazing and your blog is amazing and y o u are amazing! You are the Natasha to my Sonya, and literally every time you send me a musing I’m like immediate-goofy-grin-heart-eyes???? It’s honestly a crime we don’t have more threads but like you’re an absolute joy to talk to and meme with and I adore you/your portrayal of beautiful bratty Natasha even if she drives my Sonya up the wall <3 You are Definitely the Funny Mutual lololol I crack up so much talking to you <3

@valianceearned / CARP you’re an amazing person/writer and holy h e c k am I impressed by your OCs!! They’re all so well thought out and developed? Your bios are so detailed and so much love and care is put into all of your characters. And your writing is so Lovely and it’s also very aesthetically lovely like holy heck the amount of work you put into both the content and the formatting? I am agog, I am aghast!!

@gearsandlevers / Callie!!!!! YOU ROUND ALL THE CORNERS I STRAIGHTEN THE CURVES!! love your kids so much. Your Violet is a delightfully clever and likeable kid, your Evan might have literally walked off the stage two seconds ago, and you’ve put so much thought into your cinnabon stoner Henry. Your dialogue is amazing and I love our headcanon sessions lobbing ideas back and forth with you!!

@spareisms / HEY MAGGIE GUESS WHAT YOU’RE WORTH MELTING FOR!! You’re like the sweetest person alive??? How are you an Actual Real Life Disney Princess?? Your Anna is so well characterized and multi layered and I love how she an be so flawed but so brave and just how human she is. I’m very excited for your Anne Shirley too!! You’re a great writer (and a super sweet person aaaa) and I love you!!

@gcneralvaganov / Deanna, I have just one question: How? Have we only known each other for like 2 months???? It feels like my dash would literally be incomplete without you?? You play such deeply complex and incredibly flawed muses with such a great depth of respect and humanity. I love all of our AUs (we.....probably have a dozen by now), our long fix-canon tangents, and....look the inevitable conclusion to this whole thing is that we should....basically just write Anastasia tbh??? You’re incredibly funny and kind and talented and I’m so glad I yeeted myself into your IMs that first time 2 months ago! I love you, I love your muses, (Dima and Anya love their Dumb Boyfriend), and I love writing with you!

@ncvaflows / ALEXA YOU ABSOLUTE LEGEND YOU. You??? Unlocked Ultimate AU Mode Ro and it’s like I c a n ‘ t stop?? First off, I cannot believe we literally own the same books and like the same barbie movies. How are we not literally the same person?? (Maybe w e ’ r e Anneliese and Erika lmao). Honestly from day 1 you’ve been so welcoming and lovely and I’m so glad we crashed into each other’s IMs yelling at top volume about random ya lit/movies/aus!! I adore literally all of your OCs (is everyone a b s o l u t e l y sure they’re not canon??? hmmmmm a Mystery)???? In the words of Li Shang, “You WRITE GOOD????” Anyway you’re amazing and I love you <3

WHILE IT’S DEFINITELY MY FAULT FOR BEING AN ANXIOUS BEAN WE REALLY NEED TO TALK MORE OFTEN CAUSE I LOVE YOU

@curtainrisen / Rebekah, dude, you’re a wonder. Your muses??? So diverse, and your voices for them? Super on the nose and amazing. I love your Helene and how human she is, and I really gotta toss more of my kids at you (Super excited for Duke!!). You’re real chill to meme with and I love talking/writing with you!!

@heartlosttravelers / Tor!! I love that you stan Raoul de Chagny So Hard ( the pure cinnamon roll boy deserves it honestly) and you’re super cool and great to talk to! All your muses are a m a z i n g and I always love the read when you pop up on my dash!

@damerusse / Marie!! You’re hella chill. Your memes???? 10000000% actually legendary. Meming with you cracks me The Heck Up. Lily is forever the puppy dealer, that is all, thank you, gnight. Ok for real though - your Lily is pretty Legendary too and you really got all that Spark and Fire right down. You’re amazing, and I love stalking your threads on my dash!

@lionhvrted / Fortune, my buddy my pal, we really be Out Here making Jane Austen plots even m o r e rom-com. Like. How did we manage that??? We might be literally magical lmao. We don’t have a ton of stuff going on at the moment but I love our dumb pining kids and I love the justice and humanity you give to your Caroline, and Fitzy loves his (future) wife.

@guvernantka / P R U E I already love our Exasperated Big Sis / Annoying Lil Sis / LITERALLY WHO EVEN ARE YOU YOU SMELLY DUMBASS LIL BRO IN LAW dynamic. You have the Best Sense of Humor (tm) and I’m always catching you when it’s like 12 in the morning here so I’m always cracking up silently in bed trying not to wake my roommies up.

@anastcsie / I LOVE OUR ANGRY SMOL AND DIRTY TOL YOUNG-BUT-OLD MARRIED COUPLE AND THEIR OLDEST DAUGHTER NAMED MARIA ALREADY. I love your Anya and how feisty and fiery she is (Dima, needless to say, loves his wife) and I love how chill (and hilarious!!) you are as a person. We do have a tendency to turn into angst monsters 24/7 but honestly that’s half the fun!!

@asundrop / Polly!!!! ok so I know we haven’t really done anything w/ Raps (yet muahaha) BUT b o y was I hella excited when I found someone willing to yell about CDrama with me??? Thank you for being the Eternally Stoic/Always Annoyed Ancient God to my Tiny Dumb Fox Princess?? I love them and I love you (you’re hella cool) so there!

@moretreasurewithin / KAAAATE goodness it’s only been a couple of days but I’m So Comfortable talking to you already? You’re just honestly really amazingly kind and I love screaming about Anastasia with you. We gotta get more going but I love your Dima and Maria Already (tm) and I love your sense of humor (here’s to torturing Dima with ties!!) and I can’t wait to get to know you better!

@annastrxng / AAAA somehow I managed to chat with you and then?? We never got anything going and it’s definitely mostly my fault cause of that High Anxiety (and also the fact that I got Immediately Busy) but you are literally So Nice and The Most Understanding and super great to talk to!! I hope we get something going in the future!!

@soulcrossed / ROSE we have the same name I keep forgetting this lmao BUT ANYWAY. All your muses?? Amazing. You gotta throw more of them at me. Your Sophie?? Are you Actually Diana Wynn Jones in disguise?? I love our crazy au/headcanon sessions and I love/hate that you’re The Worst Enabler and I’m inevitably going to end up with the other two Hatter sisters on this blog lmao.

I HAVEN’T TALKED TO YOU TON YET BUT HI!!! YOU SEEM CHILL!!

@alonecour / @steeledstark / @professor-of-predators / @sclskinn / @dulcettc / @volaticoux / @frxncaise / @argelfrasterr / @i-wrote-myway / @zharptiitsa / @villainsfall / @anyaromanovarp / @agoodandloyalrussian / @aliquisinter

AND EVERY ONE OF Y’ALL AMAZING PEOPLE OUT THERE I’M ADMIRING SILENTLY FROM AFAR EVEN NOW BECAUSE I CHICKENED OUT OF TAGGING YOU LAST MINUTE CAUSE WHAT IF YOU’RE LIKE “LMAO WHO IS THIS WEIRDO TAGGING ME??” (p.s. this is 100000% permission to slide into my IMs/like a plotting call/etc. I honestly think y’all are hella cool and probably love you already)

#follow forever #( milestone )#( ooc ) ✵ ~ CHANDELIERS AND CAVIAR ~ /#((................you know i made more friends than i thought i would coming into rpc as an anxious smol))#((I LOVE YOU ALL YOU'RE ALL AMAZING))#((thanks for putting up w/ me & my Super Anxious Self))#((ok i'm just gonna post this before i forget and reblog something and miss the 1000th post))

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ilovechristopheralexandershaw · 5 years

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What would your ideal drarry fic be? Like, how would they get together, what tropes would be involved, what would be your ideal story line? Any squicks or triggers or things you aren't interested in? Any HC's with the two of them? :D

THIS IS THREE THOUSAND TWO HUNDRED AND SIXTY SEVEN WORDS OR SOMETHING HELP ME

Whoo boi, honey, lemme tell you, this answer gave me some s t r e s s. Tumblr, can you just...idk, have a save drafts option for asks? No?

Anyways, back to the point. Snuggle down into your blankets y’all, ‘cause this is gonna be one long post.

What would my ideal drarry fic be? Okay, siriusly, legit anything with angst. Copious amounts of angst. Drown me in the angst. I’m always willing to read an angsty fic, almost always as willing to read a fluffy fic and occasionally have an urge for smut but that’s like…every three months or so lmao. I prefer a story that isn’t based on the size of one’s cock. (Sorry if that’s a little crude). I’m fine with any length of fic, as long as it has a good story behind it and if it hopefully has some heart-wrenching moments that make me feel like I might have a soul after all. I love fics that keep their character – not too much, though – and have them arguing with each other all the time – its more real to me, and makes me laugh. I love drarry because of that, because it’s that ship that will keep their relationship, unlike idk shrek and Fiona who fall for each other and lose their old self completely. Drarry is that ship that stays intact and old and new at the same time, and that’s why I love it.

How would they get together? I have this vision of the two getting together slowly. First it’s banter, insults, hexing, all the while having miscommunication and some serious pining because I’m an absolute sucker for that shit. As I said, angst. Hate turns to like and death threats to exasperated, witty little replies, private jokes between the two of them – a Malfoy Stinks embroidered on his robes in place of Healer Malfoy.

I love fics where there’s just that one, final leap of – I have to do it, otherwise I’ll never get another chance, I don’t care about the consequences. If it’s a kiss that gets them together, in that ‘final chance’ way, I love it when the other is too shocked, and the first person just loses all hope (I mean until like two seconds later when they’re snogging the life out of each other lmao). Basically just a slow build and all the sass 😊

Tropes? Okay, I’m gonna admit that even though I’ve been in the fandom for a few months, I still can’t define so much, but I hope most of what I write here is legible.

I love coffeeshop Aus, I find them really cute and sweet, and a blushing Malfoy is always a bonus. Eighth year is my absolute jam, unless it’s a drinking fic in which case no thanks. I love friends to lovers or enemies to lovers – the slow build, especially if the author has timed it perfectly, is just argh, I love it. Pining has been mentioned like a hundred times already but I’m going to say it again just because. Roommates are okay, I guess, but not exactly my go-to. I do like muggle Aus, and even though I think Potter should be a teacher, I enjoy the action in an Auror Partners fic, too. Also uh..oops? This was supposed to be tropes that were involved not the tropes you like you dumb butt. That’s not what Nonny asked.

My ideal storyline for a drarry fic? Not sure if this is what you’re asking but I’m gonna go with it and if I’m wrong then I’m wrong y’know?

As I said, I like fics with pining. I love a number of storylines, but I’m just gonna choose one for this thing since it’s already almost if not over two thousand words (is anyone even reading this? Who cares, I’m having fun) okay I checked its like over 2600 help me. Also this turned out into a fic not an ideal storyline hhhhhhhh

I guess I like fics with slow-building pining, going from meeting together at work or having to work together for some reason in eighth year, or just seeing each other in eighth year. PTSD gets them together, but so does the (admittedly weaker) banter, since nobody understands either of them – the Saviour and the Ex Death Eater. The press is still going off about the war, and everyone has their own ways of coping. Soon enough, they’re friends – (ok let’s pretend this is eight year) and helping each other through the bad days. And soon enough, the insults that hit closer to home for others but not them, the inside jokes, the love of Quidditch, the homework assistance – all this time around each other turns to pining. Malf-Draco, with his white-blond hair and black turtlenecks that he kept even though that was what he wore as a Death Eater. With his now self-deprecating jokes instead of hurtful insults. With his smile, that shows his sneer lines of the past. With his blue-gray eyes. With his knowing smirk when they’ve done one of their own eighth year pranks. Even with his wonky Charms and obsession with stroking the Dark Mark and the way he stops in front of the Room of Requirement every time they pass. And Harry, with his mop of untidy hair and glasses that have had Reparo used on them who knows how many times by now? With his bright green eyes, with his surprisingly pale skin, with the way he disappears into the forest every now and then, staring at the clearing where Voldemort once thought him dead. They pine, they’re oblivious, and finally, Pansy spills it to draco, an exasperated ‘will you kiss him or not’ just as Harry rounds the corner in his invisibility cloak. ‘are you stupid. Pans? We’re just friends.’ (wow ideal storyline this is a mini fic by now what am I doing with life my math sheet is like right in front of me I should be doing that). The questions, that night, in their respective beds. And the finale, with Harry rethinking ‘we’re just friends’ in his head in the final Seeker-to-seeker game, Draco leaning in.

Finally.

Okay, squicks. Here we go. First of all, I don’t really like fics where they speak really…I don’t know, childishly? To each other eg. too many cheesy pet names (‘Hi hun,’ he giggled, taking the offered plate), since my idea of drarry is a couple that banters all the time, not one that sits around squealing at each other. That’s the main reason I ship them, after all.

Another squick, although this just annoys me more than makes me uncomfortable, is when there’s a fic involving children where the author makes their speech like that of a baby. Five year olds and younger can make legible sentences, so it’s sometimes irritating when eight-year-old Scorpius is saying ‘dada give h-h-hoog’ if you get my drift.

Daddy kink is another thing. If you like it, good for you but personally, I- *shudders* no thanks. It’s just – okay, my dad’s like over fifty, and that’s what I imagine if I think of that. Sex with my dad? I’ll pass. Calling your boyfriend your ‘daddy’? I- no no no just no I’m sorry but no.

Okay, I’ll rephrase. Most, if not all kinks make me uncomfortable – I’ve said daddy already, Parseltongue (just any other language) is just weird to me (it’s not disgusting, I just find it kind of dubious I guess.), any sort of pet play is similar if not worse than daddy kink, choking or breath play sounds more like rape (I’m crude, handle it), lingerie is just hella weird and I don’t even want to know what tentacles are, thank you very much. I’ll stick to my vanilla sex.

Any sort of sex toy/tool use is also a squick (including painful BDSM stuff), but I’m not sure if that’s kink so I’ll just add it here.

I don’t mind OOC fics, but, again, if they’re too soft (unless it’s some sort of caring angsty oneshot e.g. most of @rose-grangerweasleyisbae ‘s ones) then they most likely don’t work with me either.

Triggers? No, I haven’t read any fics that have triggered me in any way and I’m not sure if I have any. Most are squicks.

Fics, or tropes, I guess, that I’m not interested in would include either one being some sort of Magical Creature (although there are some exceptions – some writers make really good fics with these tropes), and by that I mean any humanoid creature such as a werewolf, vampire etc. Veela especially. Also, anything with mates. (Fun fact, in my first answer that got deleted, I wrote a headcanon fic thing with draco as a bowtruckle since I said I don’t know if that’s a squick bc I’ve never read it and decided to do it for fun)

Dunno what this is, but I’m gonna include it as well – I also don’t like fics where their entire supposedly ‘loving’ relationship is completely based on sex. I’m okay with it if they’re supposed to be fuckbuddies at that point in the relationship, but if this is what the author is calling their ‘established relationship’, I don’t really like it.

Any fic that loses the banter after their getting together, where their world and source of happiness is completely revolving around the other – that is also one of my disinterests. As I said, I ship drarry for the sass and banter (and angst). Not the sappy love.

I don’t really like unhealthy relationships – I read a fic where the whole reason Draco allowed Potter to date him was because he complimented his flying skills, not because he liked him. That’s a really minor example, but basically any fic without actually liking each other or as I said, an unhealthy relationship, doesn’t take my fancy. Unless, of course, they’re fixing it.

A fic that starts somewhere in the books, eg. third year or something, don’t normally take my fancy, but, again, there is the occasional exception that I turn out to love.

Not exactly Drarry but any poly relationships with the two of them are also a disinterest – I feel like they’re the ones for each other. Dunno if this sounds polyphobic or whatever it’s called, and it probably does, but that’s not it. I just personally don’t think Drarry need another person. Other ships, maybe. Drarry? Not for me.

Eighth year fics that are based on drinking and drinking games also aren’t my thing (omg there’s like eight million alsos here what am i doing don’t shoot me please (ok i fixed it)). I just don’t like them.

And fics with any sort of bonding lose my interest pretty quickly, especially sexual magic bonds. Mpreg, as well, again, I’ll read the occasional fic but most of the time I don’t really like it.

Age difference, again, are something I find strange, and I can go on for hours but this is now around three thousand words and I should stop so y’all can go read your fics lmao.

And um I’ll give you two headcanons as my way of apologising for the unbelievably late reply

Harry, lying on the ground, blood dripping from a massive slash in his stomach, chest barely moving, lips slightly parted, tinged red with drying blood

Malfoy, now just a colleague, they’ve lost the schoolboy animosity, hovering over him, wand casting diagnostic spells even though he knows they’re no use – he knows the curse but he doesn’t know the exact variation – and the wrong healing spell will kill the Saviour – he can’t take that chance.

‘Scared, Malfoy?’

His head jerks up, pale eyes widening at the old question thrown back at him. Shoulders slump, his lungs heaving from all he spells he’s cast

‘Yes’

Idk just the idea of that final admittance – yes. Idk, just, my heart, man.

Okay headcanon 2 which is more of a fic by this point (someone help me im so bad at headcanons. Like this is all fleshed out in my head but ugh)

Eighth year holidays, Draco is sitting alone at the blazing fire in the common-room, strangely enough knitting, as he talks, friendly but quiet to a surprisingly happy Moaning Myrtle (the common room is where the old bathroom was)

Hermione Jean Granger sits down next to him and he flinches, almost expecting a slap like third year – he’s had hexes from Muggleborns who had nothing to do with the war, and here’s the Saviour’s friend – of course she’s gonna –

She pulls out a massive textbook, quill, inkpot, blotting paper and three rolls of parchmment from her bag, tucks her bushy hair behind one ear, and starts scratching away

He’s surprised, but still too nervous to ask why

It becomes a habit, her sitting there there, him as well, talking to Myrtle, doing Potions work, knitting as well

They start talking to each other, he finds out she Obliviated her parents and doesn’t want to come back just yet, even though she knows the Dark Lord’s gone

She finds out he’s too scared to go home, with all the memories

They become friends of sorts, helping each other when they can

When the holidays end, there are a few double takes, but nobody really questions it. After all, it’s Hermione, she never was too against Malfoy (nobody really saw that slap) and she’s always been a rule-follower. They assume its part of Mcgonagall’s asking for peace between Slytherins and Gryffindors

I mean, Ron does complain about her hanging about the ferret nowadays and not around her boyfriend, but he gets it. Besides, their ‘sessions’, if you will, are always when there’s Quidditch practice for Harry and Ron (they help train the younger years)

So yeah, it’s not too bad (and this isn’t Dramione I promise although I do ship it occasionally)

One day, though, she brings out a bundle of knitting herself. To his surprise, she knits a single sock and puts it in a box

He asks her why

‘For Dobby’

And he remembers. He remembers the strange little house elf, the one he loved as a kid but had no way of showing it. He remembers his father’s hatred of that elf in particular He remembers scowling at the poor thing, ranting to it – it was a way of venting, but in true Malfoy-raised fashion, he’d been so cruel to it as well, laughing as it jammed its fingers in doors, encouraging its pain.

He leaves the common room early that night

Next day, the Golden Trio isn’t there. Hermione (no longer Granger) isn’t there

He knitted a single sock that morning himself. He’d heard the story from their talks. He wanted to contribute. A way of apology, if you will. If it even counted. Today’s the day the elf passed away, and Hermione had said she put a sock in there for everyone

It’s pretty obvious where they’ve gone. He Apparates there after class, and finds the grave easily. It’s got a bundle of Conjured flowers, stems wrapped around the rock that serves as a headstone, and the box of socks is right there too. (what am I doing this is meant to be a short drarry hc and I haven’t even brought potter in yet help)

He starts crying

He spent last night remembering. Remembering how even through all the pain he caused that elf, a single smile, a single ‘thanks for listening, Dobby’ would make the elf bow and weep at his feet. He remembers how cruel he was, how the elf just…took it in his stride. He remembers losing the house elf, realising Potter had stolen something else of his. He remembers

And he lets it go. He spills all of it to a gravestone, apologies and ‘I know it won’t mean anything’ and ‘I didn’t know but that’s no excuse’ and ‘you always listened, how did you always listen?’ and ‘thank you’ and most of all ‘I’m so so sorry’ stumbling over each other as he tries to explain, to finally let it out

He’s crying and sniffling and that’s making it even harder to speak but he needs to say this, even though Dobby is dead, even though he’s apologised to so many people – this is one of the few that listened to him, and he’s treated the elf like garbage.

Tears drip onto the single sock in his hands

It’s hours later when he finishes. Well, not exactly finished, but he’s said enough that he thinks he’s explained himself and said sorry – even though it’ll never be enough. He’s cast a Light Charm (not a lumos ok it’s bigger don’t correct me) and he leans over to put the now-damp sock into the box too. A final ‘I’m so sorry’ and he stands up, turns around

And comes face to face with the Golden Trio

Hermione stares at him, then grabs him in a massive hug

Ron looks at him, slightly awkwardly but at her glare, he offers a tight smile

And Harry? (wow how long has it taken for me to get here god) is just staring. Openmouthed. Who knew Malfoy had felt this much about a house elf?

And yeah that’s the point where he realises Malfoy isn’t that bad and then they go back to Bill and Fleur’s (Hermione explains along the way that they went back to the grave bc they saw the Charm and were in shock – was Dobby back?)

‘did you hear all of it?’

‘we heard enough, Draco’

And when they get back to Hogwarts, well, it’s slow building at first. Potions help when Hermione’s out on a date with Ron, a butterbeer in the school kitchens on a Hogsmeade weekend when they want to hide from the public but enjoy the drink

But over time, the pining and the miscommunication and Draco getting back to his (albeit weak) banter with Potter leads to one thing. You know what it is.

Drarry

You know what I’m having fun writing trashy hcs so here’s a third (although it ain’t drarry. It ain’t any ship)

Alright so there is no hairdresser at Hogwarts or Hogsmeade or anywhere near the castle (I mean it was never mentioned in the books was it so this is possibly canon)

Therefore, most kids have to use spells

But we all know that each of us probably has a haircut that is somehow slightly different to one another, and there aren’t that many hair care spells in the world let alone known by a few teachers in Hogwarts

While some kids know exact spells, others, for example, Muggleborns, just use Diffindio

I mean, it gets their hair cut, yeah? That’s pretty much all they need

Of course, Hermione knows each and every spell but let’s not get to that

And Malfoy uses his own spell and a litre of Sleekeazy every morning

But since everyone else cuts their own hair, it looks as bad as each other

And that’s why Harry wasn’t teased too much about his hair (yes, also bc he’s the Saviour bUT STILL)

That’s why Sirius had long hair and etc.

Basically none of the kids at Hogwarts really had good hair and they all looked like Halt from Ranger’s apprentice (also this one is long as heck I could’ve just said everyone uses diffindio and there’s no hairdresser why am I like this)

#oof yay i got an ask #what am i doing look at the length of this thing #nonny i am so sorry for doing this

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plumoh · 6 years

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2017 writing round-up

I posted this on my dreamwidth but I figured I’d also do it here!

1. Total year-long word count Total: 55 891 English: 44 405 French: 11 486

2. Word count by fandom Kuroko no Basket: 16 963 Haikyuu!!: 23 760 Fire Emblem: 7 650 Boku no Hero Academia: 7 518

3. Fics completed Without counting SASO’s drabbles and MRs, 13

4. Works-in-progress If I’m counting every single crap I want to finish, 12. They’re all one-shots except for one, which is a long fic I just started writing with art collaboration.

5. This year I wrote and posted 2 collaborations (SASO’s MRs) 2 drabble collections (one for Knb, one for HQ!!), 30 drabbles 13 one-shots

6. Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you'd predicted? Less than predicted, in the sense that I wanted to write down much more ideas I had. But SASO made me write quite a lot of short drabbles!

7. What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January? Considering I got into a new fandom halfway through 2017 (BNHA), I guess the answer is obvious lol But from the fandoms I was already writing for, I’d say HimuKise. I had wanted to write for that pairing in the past but never had the chance/inspiration/motivation to do it.

8. What's your own favorite story of the year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you happiest? Connect, Fire Emblem Heroes ft mainly Roy and Ninian. Do you know how many y e a r s I had waited for an opportunity to make this family reunite?? While it can definitely be improved, I like the atmosphere I managed to set up and exploring the characters’ feelings in such an odd situation.

9. Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them? Participating in SASO was kind of a risk in itself haha I’ve never participated in any kind of long-term events or done collaborations before so I wasn’t sure I’d have been able to keep up. It further proved I can’t write as much as before in one sitting. But the event was great, I don’t regret signing up! Other than that, I don’t think I’ve taken other risks… I did try to be more explicit in my non-explicit sexual content but that failed lmao

10. Your best story of this year Thousands of feathery kisses, KnB, ft KagaHimu. It’s only a retelling of their relationship but I loved writing it and exploring their emotions, especially since I’ve never written them with so much depth before (the previous kagahimu was more on the humorous side so). Looking back on it, the sentences flow smoothly and I don’t know how I did that haha

11. Your most popular story of this year Connect! It has the most comments, kudos, hits, favs, and seems to have resonated with a lot of people, probably for the same reason as me, aka being happy to make the three of them meet lol

12. Story of yours most under-appreciated by the universe, in your opinion Granted it’s a drabble and buried in the collection, but this HaiKise in FE Awakening setting was particularly fun for me to write because of all the hints I dropped about their relationship. Who doesn’t like a bit of tension with unresolved conflict…….

13. Most fun story to write This drabble about the Miya twins. Banter between siblings is something I really like to write, and making Osamu feel a violent urge to destroy his brother was great.

14. Story with the single sexiest moment Uh. This one? There are like, 4 lines lmao I’m Bad at writing sexy times “Tobio sucks in a breath, Yuutarou's hands on his hips while Akira is nipping at his neck. He reaches out to cup Yuutarou's face in his hands, and slowly closes the distance between them, chapped lips meeting and brushing. Yuutarou tightens his grip and makes his lips part as an invitation, soft as always. Akira stops his nipping but Tobio can feel his eyes following their every move, and somehow it spurs in him a stronger desire to give his all. He always gives his all for them.”

15. Most "Holy crap, that's wrong, even for you" story That one drabble where Kindaichi and Kageyama break up, I guess? I had difficulty writing it because it’s already hard to make them hook up, so separating them is worse fnjsdk

16. Story that shifted your own perceptions of the characters For you, my brother, Haikyuu!!, ft Miya twins. It was the second time I was writing the twins and it made me understand them better, I think, especially Osamu who had been introduced in the manga not too long ago.

17. Hardest story to write muffled screaming there is a French LeoKumi wip I’m writing and it’s giving me headaches because it’s a modern setting, it has to be soft and familiar, with beautiful scenery, which are my three strongest points (sarcasm).

18. Biggest disappointment Like That, KnB, pre-HaiKise. It should have been more on the bonding/familiarity aspect through a situation that exasperated them both.

19. Biggest surprise Fahrenheit! It conveyed perfectly the feelings and the mood I wanted to write.

20. Most unintentionally telling story The stupid NijiHai + Kise from SASO,,, friend!HaiKise? Kise making fun of Zaki? Niji suffering because of Kubota and Sekiguchi?? Banter?? Shitty humorous situation??? points that’s me

21. Favorite opening line(s) [They should stop meeting in the middle of the night, after everyone’s eyes are turned away from them. The moonlight can offer only that much light and warmth, after all, though neither of them truly gets cold.] -fahrenheit, himukise

22. Favorite closing line(s) [He takes Kunimi's hand, squeezes a bit too hard, like it would make the act more real. Kunimi snickers at this and that's the closest to enjoyment Kageyama has made him feel in forever. Hopefully the first to many others.] -kunikage

23. Favorite 5 line(s) from anywhere [And then Osamu's lips tug upwards, his eyes slightly widen, and his throat is opening to let out an awful laugh, scratching and prickling and grating. He falls on his knees at the foot of the bed and crumples the shirt in his hands, fingers digging into the fabric just as needles are piercing his hollow (healthy) heart.] -the donor song, miya twins

[He thinks he hears a metallic noise above him, so he looks up. A second later Kagami dashes past him, as if drawn to it, and the scream filling the air sounds horrifyingly like his, or Kagami's, or anybody's, and the bright red springs back, dotting the ground and Kagami's body and Kuroko's face, just as a black cat crosses the street, as if it was taunting him.] -kagerou days kagakuro

[Kise rubs his head, seriously considering telling Haizaki that hitting a model anywhere on the upper part of the body is prohibited, because hello, he needs to be perfect?] -nijihai + kise

[The man faces him, features not fully drawn, a sketch made of memories and what-ifs, but it’s the beginning of something greater. Tatsuya hasn’t found a cure; he can bring back the person whom it was destined to. Tatsuya risked everything, after all.] -pharmakon, nijihimu

[Katsuki ne lui accorda pas un moment de répit et saisit son visage entre ses deux mains non sans le malmener quelque peu, ses doigts effleurant des mèches bicolores qui tombaient sur une peau tordue par la frustration et une pure agonie, encadrant des yeux trop humides pour laisser au hasard la signification de cette expression complètement dévastée.] -en comptant sur toi, “écoeuré”, todobaku

24. Top 5 scenes from anywhere you would choose to have illustrated Roy and Ninian hugging (Connect) KinKuniKage arguing after they burn down the village (Yours to take) Kise and Haizaki in the tent (There again) Possessed Kageyama against Hinata (Bright sun) Osamu holding Atsumu in a headlock (The laws of this land)

25. Fic-writing goals for next year Finishing half of my wips (one-shots), and most importantly the long fic with art collaboration!! Also continue a French Kingdom Hearts fic I haven’t touched since 2015 fdkfn And maybe writing things I’m not used to? idk if I can finish my wips it’d already be great haha

#2017 #fic year in review #2017 writing

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violetemerald · 7 years

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So my queerplatonic partner just broke up with me as I was trying to go to bed at 10pm and now I’m still awake… typing on my phone and posting this near midnight EST… I can’t tell if me still being awake is necessarily his fault but I think it is. When he broke up with me the first time (in June last year) I was a crying mess. This time I’m just… I’m not crying. I’m upset but it’s more anger and frustration. I hate that I kinda saw this coming but was afraid to let myself go here. I hate that I made up countless thoughts in my head about what my future with him would look like and now it’s all a ridiculous waste of mental energy and I hate how much I was counting on us working out. I really hate that he tricked me into at least thinking he was invested in us lasting through August given the specific events he planned to go to with me and bought tickets for and this and that. Like why did he do all this and now… are we going to do any of it? Am I gonna have to do the walk for suicide prevention next month ALONE because I didn’t sign up for that and ugh should I immediately be looking for a team to join?? That might be better anyway, I might have a better experience overall, but like…why is he torturing me like this?

Why get back together with me while he was in Afghanistan, only one month in to a 6 month deployment, and insist he regretted breaking up with me, and insist he did want the same future I wanted fostering and probably later adopting kids and all of the rest of it… and so many other little things in these 5 months… and then he saw me again for the first time since he’s back and his deployment ended. Both Saturday and Sunday. And then… he avoided responding to my texts Monday asking him how the end of Sunday went since I had to leave early because I injured my eye and… telling him I was taking a sick day and not going in to work because of it. And when he finally gets back to me. It’s JUST like when he broke up with me before. We have plans to go camping soon AND and to do something next month (last time it was yes, camping then too, and also his sister’s wedding, this time it’s the Overnight Out of the Darkness Walk) and I’m talking about those plans (last time it was buying a new dress for it probably that coming weekend, this time it was making sure to get my medical waiver turned in before the May 19th deadline) and he just… he’s… he’s not who I was convinced he was. I don’t even know. He’s. He’s “I can’t do this relationship anymore” and it’s not like there’s a good reason for it that he can pinpoint, but he insists it’s nothing we can fix even though this time I’m… I’m more confused than ever how he can be right back where he was breaking up with me before, because he explicitly changed his mind and regretted that and stuff??? And like…

I really kinda saw it coming, like way more than last time, although I was uneasy last time too.

I love him. I hate this. I don’t love him that much right this moment but…

I really wish this wasn’t happening. Yeah now I’m finally kinda crying a little.

I hugged him when I first saw him. He’s taller than I remembered, kind of. My face was in his chest. For a second. Too brief a time really. It was really nice. For one second. And I felt like he was pulling away too quickly even then. We’ve never been much for physical touch as qpp’s but still.

I should’ve known – i did know, honestly, i really did know – that he wasn’t as committed to this relationship as me when he started shopping for houses with his parents as soon as he got back from Afghanistan. He wasn’t… including me. He wasn’t really acting like I’d you know… live there one day. He was telling me everything but he… it was weird and I knew it and I didn’t want to admit it to myself. He wanted me to be happy for him. I want to be happy for him. But it’s hard when he’s… he’s shattering all my plans for my own future I was so clearly imagining for myself, and now I have to start from scratch all over again. I’m an asexual person who wants to foster and adopt kids with a co-parent I click with and I’ve never met anyone I click with the way I click with him, at least not who also wants children in the way I do. I don’t know how to begin looking for someone who wants to coparent foster kids and who will jive with me as an atheist (and this is actually kind of a big thing in some ways), me who doesn’t want to even so much as kiss anyone and is definitely not having sex in the future… me who has a fine job that is a bit too low paying and which just isn’t the career I want long term because it’s not nearly challenging/stimulating enough… and if I do decide to adopt or foster on my own, I can’t quite picture how it would work. I kinda feel like I *need* a partner.

And it’s just… I want to be DONE with him AND YET I want to try to convince him to go back to his thought process while he was on that civilian contractor deployment. I want him to be back to imagining a future with me the way I was with him. I want him to be happy when he’s around me and it was killing me this past weekend because I could tell that he just… wasn’t. And when I tried to talk to him he was so… closed. Quiet.

I want to move on but I don’t know how to begin. I want to be able to be friends with him but that is painful to think about, like real friends who hang out and have all our mutual friends in common still and still could potentially do some of our planned things together?? Like in some ways it’s easier to imagine never seeing him again.

And yet I wasn’t even done talking to him when I said goodnight and went to bed. I know we’ll text more about… everything. I’m sure we will. We might even see each other again soon. Idk what he’s fully thinking.

I really really am upset. I’m in my twenties, there’s still a lot of my life left, but I feel too old to be this lost with no prospects for finding a new qpp, on top of everything else. When I was with him I felt like everything was going right but near the end of his deployment, maybe even the whole last month, or two?? … It stopped feeling that way. But idk 3 months of it feeling perfect was still cruel to tease me with while none of it was real, not really, because we were so long distance and… why did he get back together with me?? That’s the part I really can’t believe. Why did he do this. I’m… now it actually is midnight, great. I need to go to sleep or at least do something to distract myself from these feelings. This isn’t productive. I’m waking up in 6 hours to go to work.

I just needed to get all this off my chest and maybe someone here would be sympathetic. (I think I crave validation that it’s fair to be this upset. Because my stupid EX queerplatonic partner… he’s basically acting like it’s not going to hurt me this much which is the absolute worst part of it all. How can he not GET this at this point, how huge of a deal this is, that telling me this right AFTER I say I have to go to bed is… like beyond… I want to say cavalier! I don’t want to forgive him for *this*, especially, which is petty probably and stupid but like I was resenting him for a long time for what he did deciding he wanted to get back together the day of my probably most extreme grief of my life when I was convinced he knew I was grieving… I only was able to mainly forgive him by realizing I didn’t want to be a person that expects people to read her mind and maybe I was overly confident in how well I’d conveyed my emotions, after all it was all only in text form and even my family I live with kind of missed how much I was a complete wreck… But yeah I’m back to resenting him I think. I can’t help it. It’s so hard. I feel so frustrated and exasperated and overwhelmed and disappointed and not in the mood. My grandmother is coming to town Friday. I need to be in a better state of mind for this.

If I am so lucky to enter a new qpr one day, or maybe even a romantic relationship idk… I’m not gonna let these things build the way I did this time. I’m not gonna worry about the state of my relationship or what the other person is thinking but keep all those things to myself. I… I’m kinda hoping I can have a queerplatonic relationship with a woman or nonbinary person next time actually. If there even is a next time. I really don’t see that as… well as a given. I imagine it’s like 50/50 whether I’ll have to give up on that dream. I could do it with someone of any gender but there’s something about the past 6 months… or more… that’s really got me latching onto femslash when it comes to fandom and the like and idk… I hate so much passing as straight?? Not as much as I hate not being in a relationship with my queerplatonic partner anymore of course but I think I’d rather be falsely assumed to be gay than straight at this point in my very asexual life…

The past… almost two years, like 22 months since I’ve known him, have been a little bit of a roller coaster, mostly happiness, and I have a lot of good memories and he’s… if not “the” love of my life, (which of course is a lame thing for someone on the aromantic spectrum to say… I’m sorry) he’s been “a” love of my life for sure. He’s been such a hugely life changing relationship and it’s…

I don’t know.

I’m gonna tag some people. Sorry this is long and super personal and I’m such a mess. It’s 12:30 AM and you all mean so much to me and know parts of this part of my life already.

@purrplelace @bookgirlfan @notrocketsurgery @quarticmoose @peppersandcats @supsi85 @aceadmiral @only-fragments

Tell me, please, if you read this? Thanks.

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