#and thank you pepsi man for always somehow being a part of my life and bringing my favorite gremlin to me
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danhausen I’m not strong enough for this
#still crazy that the guy I looked up to when I was younger ended up inspiring the guy who brought me back into wrestling#i love them immensely#and thank you pepsi man for always somehow being a part of my life and bringing my favorite gremlin to me#danhausen#cm punk
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Drafted: Chapter 2 Preview
I know it’s been months since I’ve posted anything on any story, but I wanted to let you know I’ve got almost-ready drafts of Engines, Between and Drafted. As an apology for my absence, here’s a gratuitous portion of the beginning of chapter 2 of Drafted for you to read until I finish things. (A reminder: Drafted takes place after the events of part 1 of Fray, and follows Logan’s life during the mutant-human war.)
Thanks, all. Especially for the readers who haven’t given up on me. ❤️
Chapter 2: To Lose
(Pinwheel Universe: Original Timeline, March 2017)
Logan knew what it meant to feel a heart stop beating. His own had, more times than he could count. He’d fucking survived without a heart at all, wiped down to just a fucking skeleton, and he had, only hours later, stood up a whole man and walked off without a mark on him. But while he’d felt his own heart shudder and still, that wasn’t the only heart he’d witnessed end. He’d felt many hearts cease, not only hearts he’d intentionally stopped, but others, too. He knew what it meant in that moment when somethin’, call it a soul, call it somethin’ else, left. The body settling. The will of life…just gone.
He had faint memories, ones that might make themselves more vivid in nightmares, of death being more familiar to other folks, too. Back when it happened more often. Famine, disease. His mind groggily pulled words forward like consumption and scarlet fever. You saw death. Children died. Families lessened. You’d wrap a black band on your arm, women would drape themselves in the color. Back then, there was a certain respect, Logan understood, about grief. A knowing. A recognition. A moment people took to pause.
But then, his memories had revealed the obvious. Vaccinations for Polio. Smallpox. Shit got easier. People lived longer. Children died far less often, to the point where families started having less of them. Death, in a temporary sense, evaded. And it stopped appearing in the streets. It stopped being in the homes. He watched, as folks began seein’ death for what it wasn’t instead of what it was; in one word: commonplace.
What did it mean, anyway, to be alive? Was a sense of self, a consciousness, enough to constitute a life? He’d seen men without souls walk and talk and command the deaths of thousands. He’d killed Nazis, after all. But he’d also seen the last breath leave the lungs of kind and gentle souls to the point where the body wouldn’t quite stop, confused somehow, pining, maybe, for why it had been abandoned.
To die. To sleep.
He’d read Shakespeare. He’d read everything. It’s what you did, back then. You wanted entertainment outside of a woman’s thighs and the bottom of a booze bottle? You read. And he’d read them all. Faulkner. Joyce. Walker. Hemingway. Woolf. Fitzgerald. Tolstoy. The ancients, too. Aristotle. Plato. Odysseus.
But Shakespeare, that sonofabitch sometimes would stick with him. He’d forgotten it all, after Alkali, but in the months of the waning year of 2015, the year he’d found her and lost her all over again, his memories, along with memories of all the stories he’d read, came back to him. To die, to sleep. No more—and by a sleep to say we end the heartache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to—‘tis a consummation devoutly to be wished.
To die, to sleep.
Jesus fucking Christ, how many times had he wished for it.
Death had a way of coming ‘round though. Another year after her death. Then another. In the field he’d witnessed slaughter after slaughter. The jet would take him to places like Mongolia, Russia, Brazil, but everywhere it was the same. Mutants bein’ rounded up. Internment camps more common. Torture. Greif. The face of death, returning. You never stopped the fuckin’ wars for long. Humans were always keen on killin’ one another.
To die. To sleep.
Another life, sugar. A better one.
North Point though, it remained, and the temporary shelter the X-Men had taken up became more permanent. As Logan’s grief steadied, as he shoved down the fucking torment and heartache of it all, he’d been reestablished as lead of all team missions, but, more imporantly, Storm and Logan had made it a monthly resonisbility to oversee the rations and wellbeing of North Point. It was something, from that fateful windy day he’d escaped from the bowels of the place, he’d relearned. Sustainability, too, had found its way into the commune. Working sanitation systems. Plastic partitions instead of tents and lean-tos. Furniture in places, a community area to live and work. In the summer, community gardens and a small farm on the edge of the property, shielded by tech that had been put in place. In a sense, a semblance of a life. Storm served on the board of community members dealing with grievances, but Logan, he’d stayed in the shadows, much more apt to stalk about the place, checking in on the people he’d grown fond of, the people that had helped him get through the worst.
A warm hand on his naked shoulder, for one. He shot upright, after a short, quaking nightmare of his mother with a shotgun pointed at her temple, one of his oldest memories he suspected and feared was real, when he felt her warm naked body move closer even as he reached for his clothes.
“Already?” she asked simply. He jerked his head back to her face, the bright white of her hair partially covering the angry dark green lines of scarred skin mimicking the “M” that had been carved along her purple eyes years ago. Her thin arm of paler green skin that graced her entire body slung around his body that he gently moved aside. She had been one of the most abused at Two Rivers long before he had met her, beaten and tortured mostly, for having a complexion so different. A damn shame, because she was so fucking beautiful.
“Sorry, sweetheart. Been here too long as it is. Didn’t mean to fall asleep after,” he murmured, but upon sensing her grief, he turned to her once more, murmuring a “hey,” briefly running a sturdy, heavy hand along her delicate jawline, which she leaned into and closed her eyes in response. It was a somewhat false intimacy, they both knew it, but it was the respect they felt they both owed one another after the sex they both so desperately craved, but rarely received, except for in these stolen moments slipped between plastic partitions of the mutant compound in the middle of the night.
“Ok,” she whispered, pulling her naked form more into itself. “Ida will be up soon anyway,” she said, running a hand through her long thick hair, throwing her purple irises across the room to another plastic partitioned space, where her daughter, also brutally maimed across her right eye with the same green skin slept.
“You get the extra provisions I sent you, baby?” He asked, even as he pulled on his military grade cargo pants, and she looked up to him meekly on the mattress on the floor and military grade blankets, offering him a small smile.
“Yes,” she said quietly. “But the Pepsi was too much.”
Logan only smirked oddly at her, and winked.
“Kid’s gotta have some luxuries. I nearly lost my neck on that raid,” he said as he finished pulling on his boots, sitting in the one chair at the card table of the dwelling.
“She was bouncing off the walls because of the sugar,” the woman said, rolling her eyes and clutching her blankets tightly. Then, her smile fell as she knowingly looked up to him again.
“How long this time?” she asked through a quiet grimace. Logan immediately frowned, even as he shrugged on his jacket.
“Months, kid. They’re sending me to Antarctica,” he muttered, walking back to the mattress and the woman on the floor.
“Why there?” she asked hesitantly.
“There’s a mutant compound that’s thrivin’. Chuck’s gonna have us try to form an alliance. If we do, it could mean a lot better life for you all here,” he muttered, kneeling once more on the mattress to lay a hand on her thin shoulder.
“You, always running off to save the world,” she smiled coyly, but he only snorted in jest.
“Just tryin’ to survive, baby. You know that,” he responded, now glancing at the other partition where he knew the little girl slept with a soft brown teddy bear Logan had managed to procure for her, who she had deftly named “Fable.”
“You and Ida gonna be alright?” he asked carefully, sullen hazel eyes looking to the woman, even if he already knew the answer.
“You know we will,” she murmured knowingly, and then he leaned into kiss her simply, delicately, like the relationship they shared with one another. After that, he stood back up, eyes on the door. But he could still feel her watching him.
“Don’t die,” she said simply.
He turned back to her for the last time, an odd smirk on his face.
“Not possible for me, kid. Take care, alright?” She only nodded, once more accepting his absence and the immense loneliness that would most likely accompany it. And then he was gone, along the winding row of the compound, one hand in a tight fist at his side, his eyes on the exit, on the next thing to keep surviving.
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NEW DIRECTION Louis Tomlinson on why he’s not ready to make up with Zayn Malik and how fatherhood made him grow-up fast
Beth Neil 2 Feb 2020, 0:01 Updated: 2 Feb 2020, 3:06
Back then he didn’t appear to be a natural frontman. He wasn’t one to hog the spotlight, nor did he seem remotely interested in competing with the magnetism of Harry or the vocal range of Zayn.
“There were times I struggled to find my place in the band,” Louis admits today.
But it’s often the quiet ones you’ve got to look out for.
Behind the scenes he was very much centre stage: Louis was the mouthpiece, constantly fighting the boys’ corner and acting as chief negotiator between band and management.
“Being from Doncaster,” he says, “I’ve never had a problem with telling anyone ‘no’.”
On top of this (and perhaps most significantly), in the six years that the band were together after finishing third on The X Factor in 2010, Louis diligently racked up more songwriting credits than any of the others, hinting that a hard-working and ambitious young artist lurked beneath the surface.
Indeed, while he might be the last of the band to release a solo album (four years after they announced their hiatus, breaking several million hearts in the process), the result suggests that Louis, having held his nerve and bided his time, might just prove to be the dark horse.
“There was a while when I was worried I was getting left behind – some of the boys are on to their second album now,” he says, taking a draw onthe first of several cigarettes. “At times, I’ve been swimming against the tide, working out who I am. I was trying to find a way back into the industry, thinking of it mathematically rather than going off feeling and emotion.”
He’s referring to collaborations with Bebe Rexha and Steve Aoki in 2016 and 2017 respectively, which, although successful, weren’t where his heart lay. With Kill My Mind – the exhilarating ’90s-inspired opening track of the album Walls – he sets his stall out with a clear departure from anything he’s done before.
Walls is about regret, reflection and ultimately, hope, and feels like Louis, who sings in his still-broad Doncaster accent, has finally found his voice.
“I’ve always wanted to be autobiographical and honest. And in the last six months the songs I’ve written and recorded are of a better standard because there’s an honesty there,” he says.
Honesty certainly characterises the album, sometimes devastatingly so. There’s no escaping the fact that Louis, 28, has faced unimaginable pain over the last few years.
First losing his mum Johannah Deakin, known as Jay, in December 2016 to leukaemia, and then his sister Félicité, who died last year aged 18 following an accidental drug overdose.
The lyrics to Two Of Us, written about his mum, include intimate details about Louis’ experience with grief.
“It wasn’t until after I’d written it that I realised how much vulnerability I’d put in there,” he says. “When I first performed it… I had fans coming up to me in tears telling me their stories, and that’s not something I’ve ever had before. And to do it on that level about something so delicate… It was really cool to take something so dark and make people feel like that.
“I had to get a song like that off my chest. It was difficult writing about things that felt trivial compared to what was going on in my life. There was, I think, a necessity to write that song before I could move on creatively.”
Understandably, Louis won’t talk specifically about Félicité. But when asked about how grief has shaped him both as a man and an artist, he pays tribute to Jay.
“I think it’s a credit to how my mum brought me up that I have a resilience,” he says. “There’s nothing I want less than to have people feel sorry for me, so having that mentality has helped me through the hardest of times.
"I’ve also felt a real support system through my fans. I’d always felt it on a lower level, but when it’s something so impactful and life-defining, I really did feel it from them.”
Days after Jay’s death, Louis appeared live on The X Factor to perform Just Hold On with Aoki.
He was clearly in pieces and it was hard enough just watching, but somehow he held it together, presumably thanks again to that resilience.
“Sometimes it’s fight or flight,” Louis explains. “And the way I was brought up and because of where I’m from, I only see one option in that situation. I also wanted to put myself second and do it for my mum.
"That moment was bigger than me and it was actually incredibly liberating. It used every bit of strength and power and I look back on that performance as one of the proudest moments of my career.”
He says he tends not to suppress emotion and is able to share his darkest points with those he’s closest to.
But as the eldest of Jay’s seven children (five girls and two boys), he also feels a huge weight of responsibility towards his younger siblings and hasn’t had any professional therapy himself.
“No, no, nothing like that. That might be down to a bit of Northern pride, but I have a lot of responsibility on my shoulders and that drives me. I’ve got siblings who look up to me and I’ve got my grandparents as well. So all those things keep my head screwed on.
“My mum had a massive influence on me and I lived with a lot of sisters in the house, so I do find it easier to speak about my emotions. But I’m also from Doncaster, where to be a guy is to be tough and traditional and I feel like [there are] times where pride kicks in and I just say I’m all right.
"I’m lucky that I’ve got good people around me who I can trust and who I can be completely vulnerable with and say how I feel. Nine times out of 10, I don’t bottle things up. I wear my heart on my sleeve.”
[below the cut is the rest of the unedited article - including Eleanor, Freddie, 1D]
His model, blogger and politics graduate girlfriend Eleanor Calder, 27, who Louis first got together with back in 2010 during the last week of The X Factor (“before it got manic”) has been a crucial part of the stability he’s needed through such sadness.
“She’s been amazing. With any monumental time in your life you need people who understand and love you. She makes my life easier.”
In 2015 they split up for nearly two years during which time Louis became a dad to Freddie, now four, following a brief fling with LA stylist Briana Jungwirth.
The track Too Young is almost an apology to Eleanor for that period (“I’m sorry I hurt you, darling… I cut you off cos I didn’t know no better”), but Louis says the time apart taught him some tough lessons and has made them stronger.
“I think we both agree that we needed [that break]. I was too immature for a relationship of that seriousness. But I had to learn that and be an idiot first.
“A lot of young men won’t understand until they have hindsight. The responsibility of meeting someone you could spend the rest of your life with at 18 is too much for most immature men. I was very immature at that → age and didn’t understand the feelings or importance.”
He and Eleanor guard their privacy ferociously and very deliberately haven’t made themselves a public couple. They don’t go to places where they’ll get papped or post pictures of each other on social media.
“Me and Eleanor have been together ages and I don’t have a lot of private photos for myself,” he says. “Even on a night out there’ll be some f**ker taking my picture and it goes everywhere.
"So those moments to ourselves are special. It’s the same way I look at Freddie. Do I wanna show him off and tell the world how amazing he is? Yes, of course I do! But I know he’s amazing and he knows that and that’s what matters.”
He dotes on Freddie (“I cherish my time with my boy”) but admits the unplanned pregnancy was a wake-up call.
“Yeah, it was unexpected and I had to grow up very quickly. It was another one of them moments – being faced with the reality of a situation and having to step up. It was a very maturing time in my life.
“And, again, I’ve kind of got between two headspaces. I’m the responsible dad and brother some days and other days I’m still the reckless idiot chav I used to be. I’m still trying to work out a happy medium.”
Absolutely no one could have predicted the global phenomenon that 1D became, least of all Louis, Liam, Zayn, Niall and Harry themselves.
They sold 20 million albums worldwide, earning over £40million each, but the pressures of fame were, at times, intolerable. Louis says they were only able to keep their heads screwed on because they had each other.
“You can never be prepared for that. It was such a head f**k. But we grounded each other so the minute one of us acted like a d**khead one of the others would say: ‘Stop being a d**khead’. I see people in this job surrounding themselves with superiority and they lose the concept of the real world.”
He remembers doing a shoot with the band for Pepsi over in the States with American footballer Drew Brees.
“This guy was like a god and we were insignificant when he was around, which we understood. But I’ve never seen anything like it. Every sentence that came out of his mouth he’d have an audience of hangers-on in hysterics.
"These people were so far up his arse and he didn’t have one good joke. He had no banter! I still hang around with my boys from Doncaster and I hear real stories all the time, which helps me understand the world that unfortunately I don’t get to see. Having empathy with people and a connection with the world is imperative for any songwriter.”
Harry Styles recently said that he never touched drugs during his time in the band (although he’s made up for that since), because he didn’t want to “mess it up”. Louis smiles as he confides that he can’t say the same.
“All I’ll say is that I did my fair share and enjoyed my time in the band. It’s right what Harry said and it was smart of him, but I definitely had a lot of fun in the band. I was always aware of how amazing the opportunity was, but also enjoying the moment for what it was. I lived like anyone else my age – the difference was that I was in One Direction.”
He’s in touch with Harry, Niall and Liam “sporadically” (we’ll come to Zayn shortly), but they’re all on very different paths for now.
“If we all went to a pub tomorrow it’d be like we’d never left. The enormity of what happened in One Direction creates a massive bond and we’ll always have that.
"There have been times when we’ve done each other’s heads in. There might be something I say in an interview that bugs Liam or vice versa, but we all know what each other is like and we can call each other up and say sorry for being a d**k. We’re like brothers.”
But that’s not necessarily the case with Zayn, who quit in 2015 and with whom Louis has had a turbulent relationship since. He was hurt when Zayn was the only one not to turn up at the X Factor studio to support him through his performance after Jay’s death, despite promising to be there.
Then there’s Zayn’s apparent repeated digs. In one interview he branded 1D’s music “generic as f**k”. There’s a difference between making a break from the past and dismissing it completely, and it’s a line Zayn perhaps hasn’t always managed to walk.
“Hmm,” agrees Louis, cautiously. “Other than maybe Niall, there is no one who is prouder of the band and the songs we created than me. But while what I did with One Direction is relevant, it doesn’t define who I am and I don’t struggle to make that dissociation.”
Does he think some of what Zayn has said has been disrespectful?
“Yeah, I do. But I can understand it. We have a lot of situations where we’re sat in interviews and if you’re in a certain mood you might run your mouth. The older you get the more you can tell if these things actually carry any malice or if they’re just a prod in the back. That’s life, innit? Sometimes people chat s**t and that’s the reality.”
He’s not ruling out resolving their differences in the future, but there’s no olive branch on the horizon.
“No, but I’ve not actively tried. We’ve all got a lot on our plates and there might be a day where I wake up and think: ‘OK, I want to right that wrong’, but not yet.”
After being in his company for a while, it’s not hard to see why Louis was 1D’s driving force backstage. He’s thoughtful, articulate, open and self-aware, but there’s a steeliness to him and the requisite pop-star swagger, which doesn’t seem to spill over into arrogance.
He’s based in LA these days, to stay close to Freddie, but “Donny” will always be home. He says comparing the two places is “literally chalk and cheese” and it’s taken him time to “come round” to living in the States.
“It’s taken a while to get used to spending so much time there. I feel like I’m very British at heart.”
And that is reflected in his music, which is heavily influenced by the Arctic Monkeys, The Smiths and Oasis. In fact, the title track and latest single Walls sounds so similar to Oasis B-side and fans’ favourite Acquiesce that Louis’ manager flagged it as a potential issue.
“These kinds of things happen. There are only so many melodies you can write and if you listen to a band all the time like I do with Oasis…”
Anyway, says Louis. He had to make a choice.
“I was ready to risk it, but everyone said we should get in touch with Noel [Gallagher] so we did. Often the industry, and especially Noel’s world, can be a bit snobby and say: ‘F**k you you’re not using this song’. But he was really cool about it, signed it off no problem and although I’m sure he’s not happy about this, I f**king am, I’ve got a writing credit from Noel Gallagher on my album. That is some sick s**t so I’m buzzing.”
Is he nervous about going it alone? “I think I’ve got a good record so I’m confident. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t little bit nervous – there’s three and half years work gone into it so there’s a level of anticipation.”
The most overwhelming emotion though, is relief.
“Because it’s taken such a long time. I’m excited to go on to the next phase of my career.”
Louis Tomlinson’s new album Walls is out now.
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Ice Cream (Lee Chan)
Hello! Quick Dino post today! (I’m sorry it’s not that great I’m between jobs right now and wanted to post something I’m sorry)
Hi, Erin’s been really busy and lowkey stressed with work and her vacation planning so she let add on to this so I hope it’s okay with y’all!! i may have added a few extra prompts. Okay, back to my stuff!! Enjoy!!! -Bee
Requested
You used to be extremely close to your older brother. You and Chan did almost everything together, and he took his job as your big brother extremely. If someone teased you at school, he always backed you up, then took you for ice cream to make you feel better. Even when he wanted to hang out with his own friends, he’d still let you tag along, keeping an eye on you so you didn’t get lost. He was your best friend for most of your childhood.
As you got older, you kept that closeness, but still had to grow apart a bit. Started to make your own friends, have your own lives, do your own things. He still tried to keep an eye on you though, just to make sure that you were doing okay. If he felt like something was wrong, he’d randomly toss your shoes at you and tell you to follow him. He’d take you for ice cream again, just to see if you’d talk to him about it or even just smile a little bit.
Things started to change when he went to be a trainee. At first it was extremely difficult, not seeing him every day, not being able to talk to him or hang out with him. You missed him so much. Part of you worried that this would all be for nothing, and he would never debut and come home heartbroken. But, you knew better.
You were a proud sibling when he debuted, showing everyone you could your big brother and his group. You admired him so much and everything he was able to accomplish and wanted the rest of the world to see him like you did.
Of course, as time went on, he kept working with his group, and you kept living your life from home. While his schedule got crazier, it got so much harder to be in contact with him. He’d still send you updates, especially from tour. You always got excited when he would send you things on tour, knowing it was some cool or bazaar photo of him or one of his members.
You tried to visit him a lot, but it was difficult to find good days for it. Between your two schedules, it rarely seemed to work out. But it always made you smile when it worked out. You’d get to hear dumb stories about him from his members (who all adopted you as their little sibling as well), and even had them all try to teach your their dances (and laughed when you failed).
While you tried to make these visits, it only became harder still to see him. His free time seemed to always be filled with something he could do for his group or his career. You couldn’t blame him, this was his dream and you knew he had to go for it. You were usually able to let things go, knowing that he never wanted to miss things or forget things, it just happened.
The first time it really hurt was when he missed your birthday. You had spent the day celebrating with your friends and parents, but you still found yourself checking your phone all day for that message from him. Some years he sent a video just from himself, some years with some members screaming in the back, sometimes he actually called you. But this year... Nothing. You didn’t want to ask him about it, but you also wanted to hear from him.
Your parents were confused when you went to bed upset, not wanting to make them feel like they didn’t celebrate your day enough. You knew Chan was busy, but he always, always remembered your birthday.
You were even more confused when your dad knocked on your door, telling you there was someone at the door for you. Thinking it was Chan, you quickly ran to the door, heart falling when it was some random delivery dude. You took the package, walking into your kitchen.
You were started to pout again when you looked at the box, seeing it was sent from Pledis Entertainment. Your eyes widened, knowing that was Chan’s company. You quickly opened it, pulling out a smaller box and a card. You opened the card, quickly reading.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
I’m so sorry I couldn’t celebrate with you today. We had an unexpected travel day today and I couldn’t find a chance to call you. I hope you did everything amazing you could today and didn’t suffer too much without your big brother.
I just wanted you to know that I appreciate you, and miss you the most (don’t tell mom and dad). Love you. x Chan
PS, I know you’re probably upset at not hearing from me today, so I gotta make it up somehow.
You grinned to yourself, opening the box, seeing an ice cream cone charm along with a coupon for a free cone at your local ice cream shop. You shook your head, of course he would get you ice cream. You snapped a picture of yourself that night, imagining he was there with you and it made you feel a little better.
The second time was around Christmas when he pinky promised you he’d be there at home, waiting by the tree so you could open one gift before the clock struck midnight. So you had brought all the blankets you owned and made a makeshift bed a couple of days before his flight landed and slept there every night in hopes you’d wake up to the familiar face. Christmas Eve came and with the most devastated expression you’d ever seen on a human, he apologized on the other end of the video call, explaining the latest thing that had come up and promised to make it up to you.
“I’m trying to cheer you up,” he said when you shook your head, as if telling it’s okay. “I will fight you, and I’m not hanging up until you either smile.”
“Chan, you’re busy and I’m not gonna take up more of your time. Go, be a choreographer for your friends. I have to go to sleep now.” You had felt the energy leave your body with the bad news and all you wanted was to curl up into a ball and sleep the sadness away.
“Can you at least open my gift to you? I wanna see your reaction.”
“Chan, they’re waiting for you. I’ll open it and, stop doing that face! I’ll open it if you stop. Is it this one?” You held up a gift wrapped with little elves you saw he labelled after his members, which made you smile involuntarily. It had your name on it, so you assumed it was. You shook it, surprised by the rattling noises it made.
“Yeah! Open it! It isn’t much, but it was the best I could do.”
It ended up being a puzzle of a picture you had taken once upon a time where he had taken one of your toys, making you cry and him smiling evilly. (Just because he was also your best friend didn’t mean he didn’t play the his role of the older brother tormenting the younger sibling and inside the box you had found another coupon for the ice cream place. There was no explanation but you also didn’t have the heart to use it this time, so you let it expire.
The more time passed after that, the more empty promises he made, each time making it up with a coupon as if it solved everything. Sometimes you used them, but you’d only take a few licks and then throw it away. Ice cream, you realized, didn’t taste as good when it was bought under the pretense of a guilty conscience.You hated the distance, despised the consequences of Chan being an idol, resented Chan for not being here like he used to be. All you got were “I’m sorry,”s and lousy pieces of paper for ice cream and even after awhile, those stopped too which hurt more than anything. And suddenly, Iksan frustrated you and you knew you had to get out soon, so after begging your parents day and night, you snuck out and took bus by bus until you landed in Seoul City.
It brought a strange sense of comfort to you, despite being here a handful of times. The streets were always different but it always smelled the same: fried rice and steamed vegetables mixed with smog and dog shit. It wasn’t a long trip so you weren’t exactly tired, but you needed food before you became irritated. You settled for a ramen place that you’ve been to a handful of times just because you could already taste it in your mouth.
It took a particularly long time to get food, especially with the staff running and forth with takeout plates and writing on the Styrofoam with markers what each little box contained and how it was customized but you forgot about it once someone acknowledged you and apologized for the delay, explaining that is was a common order for a big party of people, though two or three only showed up, despite it all. You smiled and shook your head, placing your own order and patiently waiting for your number to be called, thankful that yours came out relatively quickly. You watched the employees throwing whatever they found on the counter that contained the meals, packets of sauces, extra chopsticks, and the drinks. You counted 13 of them. It did seem like a coincidence, but then again small gatherings with caffeine addicts was a common practice nowadays. You texted your parents who you knew were gonna ground you when you got home, but that’d be a problem for later, and scrolled through social media, seeing the antics and lifestyles of everyone you followed.
A moment later a little bell sounded, signaling a customer followed by a pair arguing over which brand had the better soda...in Chinese.You looked up at them curiously, eyes widening you recognized Junhui (arguing Pepsi) and Minghao (defending Coke). They broke their squabble long enough to tell the cashier they were there for an order and resume it, this time in Korean.
“Coke is a classic. Coke has been around longer than Pepsi and you can go just about anywhere to eat and they serve it.”
“Coke also has a disgusting aftertaste to it. And you can taste the cheapness of it. I figured a refined man such as yourself would know that by now.
”Minghao stared at him, debating whether to stay quiet or to fire back; he chose the latter. “Bold words coming from someone who wanted to buy a Rubik’s cube from a street vendor for the price of three.”
“That is not relevant. You know what...Y/N, please come here. Yeah, don’t think we couldn’t see you. Let me ask you this. Thank you. Have a nice day.” They waited for the shock to wear off your face and cupping the bowl in your hands, followed them out to hear Junhui’s question. “Is Coke or Pepsi better? Say Pepsi because I’m trying to prove a point here.” You slid into the backseat, Hao driving and Jun turning around to keep pestering you.
“I still say Coke.You will never go to a store that doesn’t sell it. By the way, brace yourself when we go inside Pledis. Your parents called Chan earlier and he’s been freaking out all morning. I told him not to worry because you’re smart enough to know what to do by now, but what can you do? Jun, be careful! You’re tilting the plates. Never mind, I’m calling Wonwoo. He’ll help us.”
“Beat you to it,” Junhui smiled broadly. “He’s already waiting for us outside. We just have to show up. Okay answer me Y/N! This is life or death. Your answer determines the fate of the universe.”
You saw Mingaho staring at you in the rearview mirror. “What brought this on?”
“I wish I knew. He’s been asking everyone since we woke up. Jihoon hyung is the one who refuses to answer because he thinks it’s all the same. So I guess you’re the tie breaker.”
“It’s soda. You’re gonna drink it either way.”
“But what if you’re at a party that offers both? Which are you gonna take?”
“The first one I pull out.” Your eyes narrowed at the driver who snickered. “What’s so funny?”
“You said ‘pull out’.”
“And I’m the child.” Junhui snorted.
*
“What were you thinking?” Chan ran his hand several times through his hair, waiting for you to respond to his questions.“I got tired and wanted to do something different.”
“By running away?” He put his chopsticks down, trying to make the pieces connect in his head. “That’s not like you.”
“You left Iksan too, remember? And no one said anything about it.”
“I left because I have a job. I can’t just come and go as I please, you dummy.” He stopped, nodding slowly and letting the biggest smile you hadn’t seen he got the news he’d be debuting in Seventeen. “I get it now.”
“What?”
“You miss me, don’t you Y/N?”
“...Among other things,” you confessed after a moment. “It’s not the easiest thing to forget I had an older brother that was always there.”
“This is hard for me too. I have to constantly remind myself that Jisoo hyung is in the room next door, not you.” He remembered something that made him smile. “The other day I jumped on Jihoon hyung while he was asleep because I thought it was you. Apparently you’re not the only one who covers yourself with blankets. He locked me out until Mingyu hyung came home but I’d do it again.”
“You look like you have so much fun.”
“I do but that doesn’t mean I don’t miss you either.” He stacked his your plastic bowl on top of his takeout box, getting ready to dispose of them. “You know, if you didn’t want ice cream anymore, you could’ve just said so.”
“How’d you…”
“Dad.”
“Figures. It’s not that I was tired of it; it just seemed that they always showed up when you couldn’t and I hated that. It was never a random day when the rain was falling and watering the plants or when the sun was out, making it too hot to go outside.”
“Come on then. Let’s go have ice cream, just you and me and then I’ll take you home.”
“That’s a two hour commute though! You don’t have to do that.”
“You should’ve thought of that before you came all the way here. Now let’s go. We have an overdue bonding session waiting for us.” His phone went off and he read the text message and rolled his eyes, the corner of his lip quirking up.
“What?”
“It’s just Jun hyung.”“What’d he say?”
“He wants to know if you’re team coke or pepsi.”
“Just tell him Coke.”
You managed to hear a “Nooooooooo,” echo through the wing as you walked out, you and Chan laughing as you passed by. You hadn’t expected to see your brother today, but you were glad you did.
#seventeen#seventeen au#seventeen fluff#seventeen fic#seventeen drabbles#seventeen imagine#lee chan#dino#chan au#dino au#chan fluff#dino fluff#chan fic#dino fic#chan drabbles#dino drabbles#chan imagine#dino imagine#sibling au
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Rocking the Trickster
Prompt:
Summary: Gabriel had learned, lifetimes ago, that the quickest, easiest way to weed out over-pompous asses making people’s lives miserable was to work at the most menial, low-ranked jobs possible. He just had to be there, minding his own business, and let the assholes come to him like bees to honey. And this job is no different than the others.
He just need to remember to keep a low profile.
Pairing: Gen
Word Count: 2763
Warnings: None
A/N: This is my first time taking part of the @gabriel-monthly-challenge and my first SPN fic in about forever!! (Yes, it took this archangel being brought back from the dead...) I had a lot of fun writing it and I hope you guys will enjoy it.
Huge thanks and kudos to @chattydm for stabbing having a go at it with the Red Pen of Doom and helping me make it all much better :p
Mention of American Gods plot, I kept it vague on purpose because 1) Gabriel is not aware of it 2) I didn’t to go full AU mode (yet)
Tags: @archangelsanonymous @lacqueluster @archangel-with-a-shotgun and @revwinchester
AO3 Link or read below :)
Gabriel had learned, lifetimes ago, that the quickest, easiest way to weed out over-pompous asses making people’s lives miserable was to work at the most menial, low-ranked jobs possible. He just had to be there, minding his own business, and let the assholes come to him like bees to honey.
Over the countless years since he left Heaven, he had worked a vast array of such jobs. Camel driver, serf, body-snatcher, lector in a manufactory... He actually liked that one! He got to entertain the factories’ workers, and telling stories was his thing. Plus, he got a high seat. A perfect way to keep an eye on everyone, especially those he decided to target for his “little life lessons”.
Heck! He even drove a truck for PEPSI for a while, delivering one of his favorite drinks all over the US. If his brothers saw what he had become… The mighty Gabriel, a truck delivery driver… Well, to be honest, Lucifer would probably bust a feather laughing.
That was ages ago. He shook his head, smiling a little as he returned his mind to the present. He took the pad the production coordinator handed him, quickly pushing all thoughts of his brothers away. It was a simple job, as they all were. He just had to to be a little more careful than usual to keep a low profile. He was in Iowa, not too far from Ohio, where he did his last job as a janitor for Ohio State. The last thing he needed was over-zealous hunters figuring out he had tricked them and follow through with their plan to kill him. Besides, if he remembered correctly, there was also a hunter congregation point, right in the next state. Another reason not to rock the boat.
“Gabe…?” He smirked, rather proud of his idea to hide in plain sight. He rarely gave in to the temptation though, preferring made-up names or generic ones. Thankfully, naming their child “Gabriel” was still popular among parents, considering how often he heard it. But the voice calling for his attention was not the voice of his long-lost brother or sister, it was the voice of the one of the musicians he was supposed to be attached to.
Right. Focus on the job: Production Assistant, or PA as they called it, to this budding indie music group. And keep a low profile. Simple. “Sorry for that! I just… spaced out for a moment.” He made sure to sound extra cheerful as he handed the pad back to the producer. The lead guitar just smiled at him but the lead singer scoffed. Great! A Diva! Oh… He was SO on Gabriel’s naughty list.
The music group he was working with wasn’t so bad. He learned that they had become friends in high school, and the lead singer and guitarist were brothers. They kept an easy feeling of camaraderie around them, curbing most of Keith’s, the lead singer, asshole tendencies.
He did a pretty good job at keeping it under the radar. It wasn’t *his* fault if the strings from Keith’s guitar suddenly snapped off, breaking the instrument’s neck in the process, just as he was about to start his solo. Clearly it was a sign of abuse, despite the singer’s claim and bewilderment. Of course, Gabriel had dashed off, only to come back just as quickly with a suitable replacement. That happened to be bright pink. With My Little Pony stickers all over its body and bright neon pink strings. Gabriel thought it did wonders bringing out the red in the singer’s bloodshot eyes.
Neither was he responsible if, somehow, Keith’s shampoo bottle ended up filled with hair removal product, forcing the man to completely shave the long hair he was so proud of. He kept complaining about it throughout the day and to whoever was willing to listen (or look like they cared), until the drummer told to shove it and keep his breath for singing. Besides, it was well-known that “chicks dig bald head after all”. Gabriel didn’t know if it was because of the “chick” comment or just the fact the usually silent drummer spoke, but Keith finally shut up and the rehearsal finished without any more hitch.
Granted, sending homophobic Keith to a bar hosting one of RuPaul’s Drag Race Main Challenge that specific night, may have been his doing. But heh! They played Classic Rock all the time! And you never mess with the classics. Not to mention that Keith appeared to be quite the connoisseur, judging by how often he commented and complained about his fellow musicians.
(It still didn’t beat the slow-dancing aliens Gabriel willed out of thin air, but this one was in his personal top 5.)
All in all, the Trickster was quite proud of himself. Knocking the ever-pompous ass down a peg, but subtly, every time he acted out, was kind of fun. Reminded him of the time he took the mantle of “Loki”. Gabriel chuckled, singing softly as he finished cleaning up the record studio.
“I didn’t know you sang.”
Gabriel yelped, nearly dropping his broom. Few people could sneak up on him. He turned around to see Keith’s brother, Joey, standing in the doorway.
“Ah…” Gabriel looked away, a little embarrassed. He didn’t thought the kid had heard him. “I used to… About a few centuries ago…” It wasn’t technically a lie; the last time he truly sang, he was with his brothers in the Silver City. He glanced again at Joey when he heard him make some non-committal sound.
The kid was an enigma. Gabriel had learned, from the first day he started working with them, that he was Keith’s older brother and that the music group was their dream. Joey mainly worked on the songs and musical arrangements, while Keith, making good use of his outgoing personality and ambition, took care of the fans, dealt with the production people, and made sure to get their names out there. Still, Joey never gave into pride the way Keith did.
He was polite, gracious even, thanking the people hovering around them both and making sure his requests were never obnoxious. That didn’t mean he was a push-over either. One time, when the producer, tired and annoyed that Keith had stormed off of rehearsal for the nth time, suggested Joey took over as lead vocals, the musician had flat out refused. And stood his ground until the producer backed down when he realised it would be foolish to continue pushing the issue.
It wasn’t as if Keith couldn’t sing. The man had talent, there was no denying it. But he was so difficult to work with. Gabriel suspected the only reason people stayed and helped was because they liked Joey more than they hated Keith. Yet, there had been times when Gabriel had caught Keith glancing at this brother, as if looking for his approval.
Still, Gabriel wondered why Joey would reject the producer’s proposal so violently. Joey merely shrugged when he asked him about it and insisted to stay behind that evening to help Gabriel finish his chores. Despite Gabriel’s protests. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t get the work done with a snap of his fingers, after all.
“He’s not the first to suggest it.” Joey finally answered after a time. “Nor will he be the last… But… see, Keith… He’s made for this. He’s… He can shine under the spotlights like… like I never could. And I’m not jealous! I’m happy to write the songs when he works on getting our names out there. I’m happy to be there for him, so he can shine.” And he just smiled and got back to work.
It sounded like total bullshit, in Gabriel’s opinion. He had never met anyone who wouldn’t enjoy being in the spotlight. Maybe Joey just needed a little incentive…
The next time Keith was being an ass, Gabriel got the opportunity to hit two birds with one stone. It was last day after all, despite the production team not being aware of it yet, and he had always prided himself leaving on a high note. Pun not intended.
Gabriel made a discreet rippling gesture with the fingers of his right hand. One minute, Keith was yelling and growling and ranting and being a general pain in the butt, and the next, nothing. Just… Silence. Pure. Sweet. Silence. And there was nothing to be done to change the situation.
That threw the production out for a loop. They were in the middle of recording a very important session. It was one of the rare duets sang by the brothers. And this one that had the potential to change everything and getting the group recognized. Gabriel only hoped Joey was ready to go at it, solo. He did feel a little bit guilty when he saw the fear and panic written all over the kid’s face. Best make a quick exit.
“Gabe? Gabe?! GABRIEL?!!! WAIT!!!”
Dammit. Joey had managed to catch up just as he was about to step outside. A few more steps and… Gabriel sighed and turned around, unable to resist the fear and worry and hope in the guy’s voice. He knew he should have flown out of there but didn’t want to risk it.
“Gabriel… You have to help…” Joey panted. “You have to sing Keith’s part…”
“Come again?”
“You have to sing. It’s the only way we can get the sing out in time.”
“You’re joking right? Why don’t you do it solo?” Maybe the kid really needed to be pointed the obvious.
But Joey just shook his head. “Can’t… not the right voice… doesn’t carry well… would ruin the song… But, yours… Yours could work… Just…”
“Joey, that’s ridi- “
“Listen, if you don’t want to do it, it’s fine… But -”
“Gabe is right… You have to sing.” A raspy voice, barely above a whisper interrupted them.
They turned around to see Keith standing beside them. Gabriel could have hit himself. He truly was getting old. And he couldn’t just zap out there, he was really committed to see this through as low-profile as he could.
“You know it won’t work! It’s a duet! It needs to be sung by two people!” Joey protested, getting angry. “My voice is way too clear and high for your parts! I’ll end up sounding like a bad mash up of Alvin and Chipmunks, with a head-cold!!!”
“Then, we forget this, we wait for another opportunity and use this to work on new material.”
The brothers stared at each other. Meanwhile, Gabriel couldn’t believe what was happening. Aside for the Alvin thingie part, that he could. Joey’s voice had reached a surprising high note in his distress. No, what surprised him was that Keith, Pompous-Asshole-Keith, was calmly trying to calm his brother down. Keith who was not even furious at the step back his nearly muteness was causing but who was in fact trying to find a solution. Gabriel was truly confused. Either this session must mean a lot more to them than he first thought, or he accidentally causes Opposite Day.
A heavy hand landing on his shoulder brought him back to the situation at hand. “Can you sing my part?”
Gabriel looked up to see Keith staring at him. The brothers appeared to have reach some kind of agreement while he was busy puzzling over what was happening. “Look… I know I’ve been an ass… and I have no right to ask you this.” Keith was saying. “But, it’ll help us greatly if you helped us out.”
“You… You can’t be serious.”
“Joey says you’re good. And that’s good enough for me.” By now, Keith was nearly growling, his voice giving out.
Gabriel scoffed, looking at each brother in turn.
The naked hope in their eyes tugged at something he buried a long time ago. “But I can’t play!” It was a cop-out, one last desperate attempt to get out.
And a poor one. Keith gave a lopsided small smile, as if he knew it. “I think I can help with that…”
Gabriel sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly.
Bloody Hell.
The recording session was surprisingly easy. It took only one rehearsal to see how everyone worked together before they started recording. Gabriel’s presence raised a few eyebrows, but the Joey/Keith tandem quickly shut everyone up. It was impressive to see how efficiently they worked together. The other musicians just shrugged, happy a solution had been found. And Gabriel really got lost in the experience. It was surprising how easy and familiar it was to just be a part of something once again.
When the producer called out “And… it’s a wrap!” and everyone just… jumped around, nearly bursting with joy. Gabriel just stood there, unable to move, feeling the pats on his back and shoulders, the one-arm hugs. He was staring at the brothers, hugging and thumping each other’s back. They let go and just… stared at each other, before the rhythmic guitar player sauntered over, saying something that made Keith roar with laughter. Or he would have, if he still had a voice.
Gabriel was suddenly hit by a wave of homesickness. It was too much to take in. Too hard to breathe. He didn’t think.
He flew away, landing a few cities away, to try and get his bearings and calm the sudden hammering of his Grace. He usually managed to keep it at peace by entertaining himself with mortal ladies (and some goddesses), but… Nothing could have prepared him for the impact the sheer force of the tangled emotions he just witnessed, and caused.
“Well… You are not the one I had expected to find here.”
The voice came from behind him and Gabriel turned around to see a man emerged from the shadows. He was adjusting the cuffs of his tailored purple silk suit, his face hidden by the shadow cast by his hat.
“Hello Anansi.” Gabriel shoved his hands his pockets, mimicking the other’s relaxed pose. "Fancy meeting you here."
The cordial tone was a trick and they both knew it as they kept a respectful (and prudent) distance from one another.
Gabriel’s eyes narrowed as he watched the African Trickster, half-wondering if he may or may not have been responsible for the sudden change of situation at the recording studio. Distances meant nothing for supernatural beings, and Anansi was known to work from afar. “I thought we both agreed to stay within our territories.” He said after a time. “Are you making a move?”
“Not at all.” Anansi said a little too smoothly, raising a hand, as if to indicate his peaceful intentions, his voice was singing, soothing, a mix of both Caribbean and African accents. “I am merely on my way to the House of Rock, to meet with the All-Father. Surely, you must be aware of this.”
Gabriel frowned slightly. No, he didn't know the Old Gods were meeting. Truth be told, he wasn’t really close to his alleged fellows, not wanting to risk the off-chance of revealing his true nature. This had caused Odin to make numerous complains, and thin-veiled insults, about his lack of “investment in their plight.” Not that Gabriel really cared. “I have been travelling a lot lately.” He shrugged. “Perhaps my invitation got lost in the mail.”
“Perhaps…” Anansi said though he did not push the issue.
Gabriel was the first to break the ensuing silence. “In any case, I shall let you be on your way.” He stepped aside to let the man pass. “While we both know Odin loves his theatrics, I won’t begrudge you your grand entrance.”
“Indeed.” Anansi tipped his hat as thanks, to which Gabriel responded with a nod.
They kept an eye on each other as the African Trickster walked past him. Just in case.
“By the way, Loki,” Anansi said, his back now to Gabriel, judging he was at a safe enough distance, “I have heard stories.”
“What kind of stories?”
“Stories of wars. Stories of hurt. Stories of betrayal. Stories of brother fighting brother. Of friend turning against friend.” He turned around to look over his shoulder. His eyes were dark and unreadable, and Gabriel wondered one more time how much he knew. And if it was a threat he needed to take care of. “You might want to be careful not to get caught in the crossfire.” He said evenly.
“I will. Thank you for the warning.”
Anansi nodded and disappeared, leaving the former archangel in the dark street, wondering about what was about to come next.
THE END
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Trixie and Katya's Excellent Playlist - Dancing on my Own - newqueenontheblock
A/N - Hello hello hello! I have returned from the war with a new series, thanks to be consistently inspired by @katyaapetrovna and @fleursverts who kindly share their playlists that correspond with their absolute masterpieces. I’ve been concocting my own playlist over the last couple of weeks to drum up some ideas, and it turns out that I’ve got so many that I can’t fit them all into one story. And so, behold - Trixie and Katya’s Excellent Playlist: a series of one shots in which each story will be based around each song.
This story is based on Dancing on my Own by Robyn, as every Scandinavian or European female pop singer makes me think of Katya, and this song is one of my all time favourites. Male pronouns and drag names on this occasion but this will never stay the same! Be prepared for a little bit of everything. It’s Willam’s birthday, Katya is in his feelings and Trixie has brought along an uninvited guest.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” His drawl carried the last syllable about 5 seconds longer than was necessary.
“I’d rather not. Thank you for averting my attentions, though.”
“Someone had to, you looked like you were about to vomit.” Alaska picked his drink up and let his tongue snake around the straw poking out of his cocktail, letting it settle on his pillowy lips. “So, is this it now? Do we pine in the corners of expensive bars and feel sorry for ourselves instead of enjoying the samples of life?”
Katya turned his neck away from where he had been staring for what he could imagine had been over ten minutes to face his friend. “I’m not pining. I’m just… surprised. I’m surprised, that’s all. Intrigued. My interest is, uh, piqued. Enquiring minds want to know.”
“Oh? And what do they want to know, Kat-ee-yaaaah?” Alaska was getting on the fuzzy side of tipsy now, his drawl becoming more growl-like with each sip of his bright blue drink. He kicked his leg up in the air and lost his balance ever so slightly, falling onto his side on the leather booth seats they had taken up residence on. Katya would have found it endearing if he wasn’t so wound up.
“I wanna know what the fuck he sees in this one.”
Trixie was on the other side of the bar, talking to a guy. A new guy. The new guy. Trixie had propped up against the bar on a stool and was facing Katya’s direction whilst New Guy stood with his back towards him. Katya didn’t mind not being able to see him properly at all. He’d seen a glimpse of his face when he walked in and saw him burrowing into Trixie’s fucking neck and whispering into his ear, so he didn’t need to see any more of him. The other man, however, he couldn’t tear his gaze from. But what was new?
“Oh come on, he’s kind of cute. I would definitely let him suck my dick.”
“That’s not a high standard, you would let anyone suck your dick.” Alaska feigned outrage and threw a straw from his cocktail in Katya’s direction. It hit the floor, obviously. “Besides, he looks like he thinks he’s too masc to suck on some weenies. He’s looking at Trix like he’s a rag doll he wants to throw around.” Katya’s jaw clenched and he grit his teeth, acid seeping its way into his veins. His head turned back into it’s now natural line of sight, catching Trixie fiddling with the bottom of his flannel with one hand and swirling his Whiskey Sour with the other, eyes fixated on New Douche. Restless hands made for a horny Trixie. He remembered that well. “Clearly he must wanna fuck him too if he’s brought him here after two dates. Why did he bring him?”
“Relaaaaaaax, kitty. It’s Willam’s birthday, we’re meant to be letting our hair loose. Besides, this is Trixie we’re talking about. They won’t even hold hands until the sixth date. There’s no way Trixie would sleep with him this early in the game.”
Katya scoffed into his soda.
“Not the Trixie I know.” He winced down his drink as he realised what he had let slip. In the corner of his eye, he could see Alaska’s jaw swung open, off the hinges with shock.
“You’re joking. You’re joking with me!” Katya’s silence answered him. “You didn’t..?”
Katya glanced over and raised his eyebrows, downing the last mouthful of his watered down Pepsi.
“Escandalo.”
“I don’t believe this. I do not. When? Where? HOW?”
“In that order? Okay let’s see, uh - there’s been about ten…ish instances, all with varying circumstances and locations, and I think your mom has a pop-up book that will tell you all the basics of the act of lovemaking so I don’t have to.”
His left ear caught the sound of Trixie using the laugh he usually reserved for people he didn’t find funny but didn’t want to make feel bad and he smirked. He looked back up and his eyes met Alaska’s, which were currently bulging out of his skull.
“You just used the term love-making. And you were only slightly joking. I don’t understand what is happening.”
Katya laughed to himself. Oh well, he’d already said too much. Might as well have some poor fucker to vent to.
“I thought you knew I only bottom if there’s a scented candle or if it’s part of some sweet and nasty love?”
Alaska shot up onto his feet. The generic pop song that had been playing in the bar quietly faded away.
“HE TOPPED YOU?!”
Katya’s stomach dropped as he swung around to see if somehow, everyone had managed to miss the shrill shout that had escaped from Alaska’s plumped up mouth. They hadn’t. There were about twenty people all peeking into their corner of the bar - including Trixie. His eyes scanned through the dim lighting and he saw Katya for the first time that night; he’d been so engrossed in Prick of the Year that the only person he said hello to when he came in fifteen minutes ago was Willam.
Their eyes met and Katya swore he saw Trixie grip his stool to jump off and walk over to him, but he changed his mind before he could blink. All he gave instead was a feeble wave and an unsure smile as Captain Cunt diverted his attention once more with a brand new drink. Katya rolled his eyes to himself before turning his back on the happy couple to face Alaska once more.
“Well gee, Beatrice, thank you for sharing your testimony with the parish. Any other sins you would like to rebuke so publicly?”
“I’m sorry, when I’m in a state of shock I tend to get very loud.”
“I can see that. And for the record, we’ve switched it around quite a lot. I know he always says he’s vers but oh mama does he mean it.”
“I’m literally lost for words. How did I not pick up on that?!”
Katya shrugged.
“Honestly? I guess… we’ve just always been like this with each other just without the actual sex part of it. But now it’s there… I dunno, it’s crazy.” Katya could feel himself on the edge of a ramble, and he couldn’t stop it now. He hadn’t spoken to anyone about this, not even himself. “I’ve never had anything like it. Biggest high I’ve ever had, and I’ve had some fucking highs. And we haven’t even needed to have “The Talk,” it’s just sort of been what it is and that’s that. Back to normal literally ten seconds after. It’s been like eighteen months, I’m surprised no one has found yet. Especially you, he sucked my dick in your dressing room once.”
Alaska screamed, half disgust half amusement. Katya gave a half-hearted laugh back, brain starting to go into overdrive. Alaska saw the smile fade quickly from his face and sat back down next to him, scanning Katya’s eyes. He saw something, and whatever is was made his face turn down with… pity?
“Oh no.”
“What, Brenda, you so shocked that your anus has finally prolapsed?”
“No, luckily that still has a couple more years left before it falls. I can’t say the same for you though.”
Katya’s eyes shot to the floor, his empty soda can, the dance floor. Anywhere other than Alaska’s knowing gaze.
“You’ve lost me now bitch, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Alaska brushed his hand against Katya’s knee, trying to find some way to rein his friend back in and open up a little bit more. Katya fidgeted on his seat, fingers twitching for the feel of a cigarette around them.
“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
Katya motioned to the waiter to bring him another drink, pretending that she hadn’t heard him twice until Alaska coughed to regain his attention. He turned back to look to the left of Alaska’s face - it’s always easier to bare your vagina when you’re not looking someone directly in the eye. He sucked in a breath through his teeth.
“I would say there is a definite possibility that I have been in love with that man since the day I met him and I will continue to be in love with him until the day my rotted, ravaged body gives up and disintegrates.”
Alaska groaned, head leaning down to rest in his hands. He stayed there for a minute or two, head slowly shaking, leaving Katya alone with his thoughts. He picked the straw out of his drink and started absentmindedly chewing on it. Alaska glanced up at him, face screwed up in confusion.
“If you knew that you were really in love with him, like for real, why did you get yourself into this situation?”
Katya exhaled roughly, and realised he must have been holding his breath since he last spoke.
“I guess… I thought maybe if I just did it, my obsession would die down. You know what I’m like, I wanna fuck someone so bad for so long and then the second I take my dick out of them I’m repulsed.” He glanced back over to the other side of the bar, where Trixie was now introducing New Dick to Tatianna and Adore. He felt a lead boot kick him in the gut. “But not this one. This one had the opposite effect.” He kept his gaze on Trixie, the sight in front of him both calming his breathing and boiling his blood.
“Have you stopped sleeping with other people?”
“Yeah.”
“Fuck, Kat.”
“Yeah.”
“You told him?”
“No.”
“You asked him if he feels the same way?”
“No.”
“You think you should?”
Katya turned back to face Alaska. He could see the glassy look in Katya’s eyes, his pupils singing stories he could never say out loud, and he knew he was fucked.
Katya’s voice came out in a strangled whisper.
“I’m scared that I would lose him.”
Alaska’s shoulders deflated, oozing sympathy towards the blonde. He scooted over to Katya and threw his arm over his shoulder, bringing him into what he hoped was a comforting hug, and sighed.
“Yeah, I know that feeling sweetie.”
They sat in silence for a song or two, Alaska’s arm still around Katya, his thumb slowly swiping along his bicep. After a while, their peaceful reflection time was interrupted by a blizzard of blonde crimped hair and a foghorn voice.
“Heeeeeeeeey cunts!”
Willam was very, very drunk. And he was also the only one there in drag tonight, under his own orders. He slumped down on the seat next to them, dropping his beer bottle as he sat and smashing it all over his stilettoed feet. Completely oblivious to the shards of glass now making their way into his shoes, he grabbed onto the top of his wig and jostled it about, getting it back into formation, raising one perfectly covered eyebrow at the sight in front of him.
“What, we killing ourselves tonight or something?” He stuck a finger out and waggled it towards them. “This shit looks depressing.”
“Don’t worry, Barbra, no blood shall be spilt tonight unless it is for sexual purposes. Sweet Justin here was merely consoling Grandma over her recent menopause.”
Willam dug into his bag and pulled out his compact and lipstick.
“Mazel. Now, you fags need to get the fuck outta my birthday booth. I’m about to suck some dick.”
He started slicking colour over his lips and glanced back over when he realised they hadn’t moved.
“Let me phrase that differently. I’m about to suck some dick, whether you’re sat there or not.”
Katya jumped up.
“Yep, that’ll do it. Come on, let’s go and dance. Mother needs to knock her knees.”
The pair made their way onto the dance floor, saying brief hellos to friends on the way. Tatianna and Adore were in the middle of the floor, doing some kind of pre-choreographed routine to Holler by Spice Girls.
“Lasky, Kitty, over here dudes!” Adore beckoned them over with one hand whilst adjusting their invisible headset with another. They waddled their way through the thickening crowd and all embraced each other in a four way hug. Mel B’s vocals quieted quickly as the DJ pressed his microphone too close to his lips.
“Looky what we have here, ladies and gays - the rightful top four of All Stars 2!”
All four of them laughed, Tatianna giggling as Alaska threw his hand up and clicked towards the DJ booth shouting “See me with them croooowwwns!” Right on cue, Read U Wrote U came blaring out of the speakers, the now packed bar erupting into cheers and squeals. Katya groaned and looked at Alaska, begging her to take pity and let her go outside for just one fucking cigarette.
“Come on Kat, dance. Forget about him just for a moment and have some fun. Lose yourself in the
bop, Grandma.”
Katya nodded. He was right, he needed to let his rapidly thinning hair down and enjoy his night with his friends, and try not to think about the big black sky above him threatening to pour down any second.
His arms started to sway softly, muscle memory refusing to let him stand still. His body knew this game too well, and performance mode was kicking in fast. His hip muscles twitched, knowing they would be needed in a few minutes if he decided to pound his untucked pussy into the floor. For Katya, there was nothing like the release of performing, the way you could pour your entire soul out and only put the bits back in that you wanted to. It was therapy in its most extravagant form, and Katya got paid for it every night. It almost made up for the fact that he needed it every night.
The songs all merged into one as Katya flew free from the tension that had riddled his muscles all night. He imagined himself on a stage; not just a tiny box in an overpacked bar filled with twinks and dollar bills, but a theatre, the Opera House, Madison Square Gardens. He was Roxy Hart on her opening night in Broadway, a beautiful witch of a woman who lured every man with the sway of her hips and the wiggle of her shoulders, and killed them if they broke her heart. He span around in circles, faster and faster, trying to turn his rags into a gown with glass slippers, ready to go to the Ball and be whisked away by Prince Charming.
The clock struck twelve and the lights came up, the signal for everyone to migrate from the swanky bar to the club just across the road. Katya blinked, out of his trance. Alaska was making his way towards the cloak room, shouting back at Katya - “leather jacket, right?” Adore and Tatianna were grafting hard on two Hispanic men they had been grinding on five minutes ago, begging them to join them in the club.
Katya looked around like he had just woken up from the most incredible nap. He had taken himself to another world, and god only knows there were probably twenty people filming his questionable moves as he transported onto another plane, one where he was dancing towards Trixie.
Trixie.
He spun around once more, finding his stool for the night unoccupied. He couldn’t have gone without saying goodbye, right? He walked towards Alaska, who had finally pushed his way into the cloakroom queue and had retrieved their jackets.
“Thanks. Hey, you wanna go next door and carry on the party or dya think-”
He glanced over Alaska’s shoulder at just the wrong time. Maybe the right time. Trixie was five feet away from him; up against the wall, lids fluttered shut over rolling eyes, New Guy’s hands learning the curves of his body quicker than Katya liked. Trixie was sloppy drunk, licking the douchebag’s teeth before he slipped his tongue back inside his mouth. Bile crept up his throat. He couldn’t look away.
Alaska carried on talking, drunk and clueless, Katya nodding slowly to make him think he was listening. Trixie’s eyes stayed shut as The Leech was sucking on his neck, one half of his mouth curling slowly into the lopsided grin that always made Katya’s knees buckle. Trixie was pulling on his earlobe as Hannibal fucking Lecter was working on his neck. Trixie always did that to him, he asked him to do it the first time they were together. His now opened eyes fell on to Katya’s and they could have been laser beams for how Trixie jolted, pushing the bloodsucker away and telling him to get their jackets. His hand came up to his neck, trying to hide the newly forming bruises. They looked each other dead in the eye for a minute, Katya forcing his face to stay calm and resolute. Trixie looked like a four year old who was about to be told off for stealing a cookie by his mom and swear his dad said he could have it. The bar had almost cleared out now, the only sound coming from the muffled din of the people around them.
“I think I’m gonna go home, Alaska. I know when my presence is no longer needed.”
Trixie took a ragged breath in through his nose and opened his mouth. Katya raised an eyebrow, waiting. Trixie clamped his lips shut again as New Guy returned, slinging his jacket over his shoulder with one hand and slapping Trixie’s ass with the other. Trixie kept his gaze on Katya, pleading eyes asking him for more time.
“You ready babe?”
God, he even sounded like a total fucking asshole.
Trixie finally tore his eyes away from Katya, looking at the door instead of looking up at Prick of the Year. He nodded and let him lead him out of the bar, staring at his feet the whole time.
Katya turned to apologise to Alaska, but he was gone. Probably stumbled over to the club, he thought. He put his coat on, adjusting the stiff collar. Behind him, he heard Willam in his sex booth coming up for air.
“Ketchup! Has everyone gone? Good, I don’t like any of those fuckers anyway. Wanna come join?”
Katya laughed, for real this time. A few months ago, he would have been lubing himself up before Willam had even finished his sentence. Now all he could think about was someone else tracing over marks he had created over and over, taking journeys over curves that Trixie had sworn belonged to him in hushed moans in between his stupid pink bed sheets. He wondered if Trixie was picturing him when he closed his eyes. And he wondered what the fuck he was gonna do about it.
“Happy Birthday, you cunt. I’ll see you later, I’ve just realised I forgot to say goodnight to someone.”
#trixie mattel#katya zamolodchikova#willam belli#adore delano#tatianna#angst#nqotb#rpdr fanfiction#canon compliant#trixya
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Buffyversary
Well. Holy crap. 20 years of Buffy. 20. YEARS.
Let me talk to you about what Buffy means to me.
I'm a "first wave" millennial. I was born in 1985. My formative years were spent on the internet before that was a normal thing to do. It was the great unknown.
I didn't get into Buffy at the start. When it started airing on BBC2, I didn't pay much attention. I watched one episode (I think The Witch) after some urging by a friend. I'd always been into the supernatural. I played VTM (predominantly online, in Yahoo chat - "The Vampyres Tavern", under the "Romance" chat rooms). I read predominantly fantasy. I think it was mostly my friends that ended up influencing me to start watching just as season 2 kicked off.
By the end of that season, I was hooked.
I'm not sure what it was the spoke to me. The fighting? Yes, i love people kicking ass. The language? Buffyisms stay with me until this day. The characters? None of them were what you'd expect. They played against stereotype. It was awesome.
I remember being aggressively pissed off that my boyfriend at the time booked this wonderful valentines date... because it was the day Once More With Feeling first aired. Luckily for him, he also recorded it for me.
I was a totally Bangel shipper, but i never heard the term "bangel" until about 5 years after the show ended. It was just "Buffy/Angel". It was a miraculous love.
I had a bit of a ritual. Friday nights. All lights in the living room off. Me, a bottle of pepsi, and a box of jaffa cakes. I demanded silence. I got SO MAD when my parents or brothers interrupted. That was MY TIME. Dork.
I will never forget when I realised spoilers were bad for me. I devoured Buffy spoilers, but for some reason didn't do the same for Angel. Then "The Trial" aired. At the end of that episode, Drusilla makes a shock return, siring Darla. I was jumping up and down. I was PSYCHED. And then I realised that if i'd know that was coming, i'd have not experienced the same feeling. I swore off spoilers from that day, and never returned.
Buffy was also my first Internet Fandom. I'd been around nerdy spaces on the net for years by this point - at 14 i was a chat room/forum vet, already moderating a bunch - but all about role playing. I tried to get into The Bronze forum a few times. I never really felt welcome. It seemed mostly americans, so spoileriffic. Somehow i found this Buffy fansite, "Anywhere But Here", and on that board i found my people. It was a good mix of people from the UK and America. It was pretty queer centric, being run by a straight woman and a gay man, and i found my confidence to talk openly with those people about being bisexual before i was ready to talk to my real life peers. I had 3 amazing friends, all females from the UK, and we formed "The Wiccan Watchers". Yeah, we were a bit of a clique, but i dont think in a nasty way. We just liked having our own special thing. We wrote fanfic together. I met my first "internet strangers" in a trip to Devon, where all of us teenage girls finally got to meet.
My mum had to phone the other girls mum before she let me go. So embarrassing.
I'll always remember drinking tequila with nectarines instead of lemon, because thats what we had, and it was yummy.
I'll also always remember beeing deeply suspicious that the BTVS writers were lurking on ABH. Particularly after things we wrote started appearing in the show. I screamed at my TV when Giles and Willow discussed the wiccan coven in Devon.
We had awards ceremonies for board members. I hosted. I wrote a song for one. It was based on the Sarah Michelle Gellar/ Jack Black 2002 MTV movie awards intro.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Okcp0AVsPD0
We were the coolest.
We all went off to university, me last of all, in 2003 (i was the baby). We grew away from ABH. A few people moved on to become Browncoats, myself included. I got care packages from my Buffy friends. I sent care packages to my Buffy friends. They were more than "internet friends".
Buffy was still airing. Angel was still airing. But not for long.
Being a cusp millennial - let me tell you about my internet. At home, i had broadband. In my halls of residence, i had dial up. That you had to pay for, on TOP of the charge you had to pay to use your phone line to begin with - oh yes, i paid for my landline phone like with a pre-paid card. Now, i cant even imagine it. Luckily, being a nerd and having nerdy roommates, i found a dealer. A guy from the computer studies class who would download eps of Buffy and Angel on the lab broadband and burn them off for me. Excellent. I still had my backup though... Box sets. 6 seasons of BTVS on VHS. 4 season of Angel. That was about... 57 VHS tapes. They were my security blanket. They went with me wherever i went. Absolute NIGHTMARE for my parents who had to ferry me up and down the country during breaks.
Thank god for DVD’s. Then Digital Downloads. SO MUCH EASIER.
My Buffy friends also set my dating criteria. I'd had a couple of bad ones. They told me i wasn't allowed to date anyone until they met specific criteria, including loving StrongBad from Homestar Runner, and of course, Buffy.
That night i had a "one night stand" with the hot goth nerd i'd been sporadically flirting with. We joked around about strongbad. The next day we spent the whole day in bed watching Buffy, until i kicked him out without even a phone number to go on.
13 years later, we have a mortgage. He's still a hot nerd. We still make each other cry laughing, and still lie around watching cult TV. Funny how life works out.
My Buffy Friends have done well by me.
While my life drew me away from internet fandom, Buffy was ever a presence in my life. Once i was on MTV as a selected group of Whedon nerds. The producer tried to give us "kooky" facts like "I've watched Buffy 5 times!". 5 times? Laughable. 50 maybe. We all sort of cut in and gave true facts - mine being that i was writing my dissertation on intertextuality in the works of Joss Whedon. She gave us the startled blink that only non nerdy people can when faced with SHEER GEEK and was like "... oh, Okay. Wow they are better than what we came up with."
That is the one time i met Joss. I got a hug. I'm terrible at meeting people i admire. Its just an impossibly huge task to be faced with someone who changed your life but doesn't even know you. I always say something fucking stupid. This time, i just got a hug. It was good.
I try not to regret anything, but there is one thing in my life i do regret. At the Serenity premiere in London, i had a ticket for the after party. My partner was with me. We had to catch a train. I couldn't justify abandoning him and going. Luckily... one of my Buffy Friends was there. One of my original ABHers. I gave him my ticket.
He danced with Joss. I am full of raging jealousy. I'm also full of joy that if i couldn't go, another life long Buffy friend could.
I haven't even mentioned Anya yet. Oh, how i love Anya. Anya was the first TV character i ever encountered that i felt was speaking my language. I mean, she's an ex vengeance demon, so i'm not sure what it says about me...
But... seriously. Video below. My everlasting spirit animal.
It gives me ridiculous nerdy joy that my nieces both have an accidental Anya link... 1) Born on the 4th July, 2) Called... Anya.
I like to think that Buffy made me who i am today. And who i am is a kick ass woman.
We can all live by the wisdom of the Buffyverse, and it will make the world a better place.
"Bottom line is, even if you see 'em coming, you're not ready for the big moments. No one asks for their life to change, not really. But it does. So what are we, helpless? Puppets? No. The big moments are gonna come. You can't help that. It's what you do afterwards that counts. That's when you find out who you are." - Whistler in "Becoming (Part 1)" - Buffy the Vampire Slayer
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Fuckstrology: Pisces Play
Helios– Is it wet in here or is it just me? Oh, wait no- It’s Pisces. Sign of dreams, delusions, and fantasy, Pisces is always chasing some ephemeral love and is completely unsatisfied with anything less than a transcendent experience. An orgasm that doesn’t shake them to their very soul just won’t do. Then again, sex to Pisces is almost… not worth it? No, your typical Pisces is far more about the connection that they have with you. While with Geminis you have to bed their mind first, Pisces you have to win their heart before you get anywhere else.
With Pisces, it’s always best to be sort of simple. Pisces love direct people, they shine out to them like a lighthouse guiding them in off the chaotic seas of this confusing world. The more that they can understand you and feel like they know you, the better. The best example of Pisces that I know comes from the movie 500 Days of Summer. The titular character is Zoey Deschanel, and she plays a dreamier, more manipulative version of herself. There is this whole bit about her having this big, secret world that only she resides in, and it keeps her safe from the world. All Pisces have this. If they feel like they can find a refuge in you than you will be their one person in the world that they trust, and share everything with. Obviously that can go very wrong very quickly if it is not mutual.
In fact, Pisces gets used and abused more than any other sign (except maybe Cancer), but truth be told it happens so much that they start to enjoy it. Pisces has all the fun kinks (don’t tell Scorpio!) like the B and M parts of BDSM, Slutty Nurse and sexy doctor, Pirates… any kind of roleplay, really! Pisces also rules porn in general, and they LOVE making sex tapes. Strippers and any other fantasy work is squarely Pisces, and boy howdy do they love making your dreams come true!
Now, I have never actually had a significant relationship with a Pisces, so I can’t quite call this sign a failure yet. I have, however, had more than my fair share of almost-loves with Pisces; Situations that came close but never actually became more than sparks. If that’s not Pisces in and of itself, I don’t know what is. There’s the makeup artist gamer guy who timing and distance didn’t really allow me to be much more than fuck buddies with (even though I wanted more), the stunningly gorgeous work wife who very nearly became something awesome before the Aqua ex (#3) ended up getting me fired (thanks homophobia and lack of federal protections!), and the beach bum from my high school days who washed up into my DMs randomly and we were flirting without me even realizing he was into me…. I could go on. None of them truly became more than a dream though, to varying degrees of unfortunate.
Artemis- Oh Phucking Pisces, this is going to be easier than shooting fish in a barrel. Pisces, ruled by the king of illusions (that would be Neptune), is quite the magical sign. One could even say so magical they are “charming.” They make you feel special, like you are the only one in the world and you are somehow living in a strange and seductive fairy tale (similar in some ways to Libra). You meet them and you instantly feel enchanted, and even the shy Pisces exude a sexual energy that they may not be aware of. There is no imagination like a Pisces imagination, and they will construct a world so real between the two of you that you will begin to wonder if in fact it really does exist… or they really do exist?
There are two types of Pisces – the bullshit believers and the bullshit artists. Either way, there is a lot of bullshit involved. Here’s the thing – all Pisces begin to believe their own bullshit at some point, but a good majority of Pisces will believe your bullshit, too (unless they have something in their chart negating this – like a Mercury in Capricorn). Unlike their fellow water sign, Scorpio, who wont let you in without vetting the fuck out of you first, Pisces is extremely likely to fall in love with someone new every single day. Love is just so fucking exciting for them, and every Pisces – whether they admit it or not – is an extreme hopeless romantic. And each new love encounter is like their very first, bringing love songs and glittery eyes for days to come. They are also notorious for having chronic whip lash – I mean, dat ass, amirite? More than anything, Pisces wants to live in a state of awe and constant seduction. The Bullshit Artist Pisces are one of the prime seducers of the Zodiac. No one can lay game like a Pisces. They will be able to intuitively pick up on your personal fantasy, and they will act it out to perfection. This can be quite fun (if you are into an element of fantasy), or it could be extremely off putting for people who are looking for extreme genuineness. But, then again, Pisces is extremely genuine about not believing in an objective reality! So, if you aren’t a story teller or fantasy oriented, Pisces may not be your game.
Do you want to seduce a Pisces? Tell them what a tortured individual you are! They will eat that fucking shit up. Pisces have a habit of taking in the wounded. They want to heal their lovers (they like to play nurse like Virgo), so the damaged are usually their first choice for relationships. But Pisces, being a mutable sign, also has a problem with losing themselves in their lover’s problems and descending further into their depressive behavior. So strong boundaries with a Pisces are necessary not just for you, but for them too. All of that incredible emotion that allows Pisces to be the intuitive, passionate artists that they are also brings them into the darkest layers of the void. You will have to be able to deal with the immense amounts of emotional purging that is necessary for Pisces in order for them to continuously transform. If you can keep up the pace, and give them a beautiful enough story to create with you, you will feel like gods crafting your own universe – growing stronger and more volatile as the days pass. If you can’t keep up with them, prepare to become a major part of their depression. You need to push your Pisces lover to create – both in their artistic life plus in the bedroom. If you aren’t exploring each other like an astronaut exploring a universe, and if you aren’t constantly seeking new ways to open emotional depth, Pisces will grow bored, depressed, and restless. They don’t find commitment and loyalty sexy like Taurus/ Scorpio/ Capricorn/ Cancer. They find romance sexy – so keep it alive. If not, Pisces are notorious cheaters (unless they have heavy earth in their charts). They get swept up in romantic situations so fully they may forget where they are and who they are, so of course they aren’t going to remember you! But when their emotions aren’t getting the better of them, Pisces can be tremendously thoughtful and sensitive to your needs. This dual nature makes them extremely frustrating, unless they can find a lover that can help them gain control over their emotional currents. They must learn to surf their emotions instead of constantly drowning in them – holding their breath as each new wave topples them over into a brand new world – cutting ties with where they had just once been.
Pisces’ love a good use of imagination in bed. They want to play games, they love to roleplay (like their opposite, Virgo), and they are extremely open to trying new things (very much like Aqua). Pisces have an ethereal way about them. They can command a magnetic personality, or they can slide into the background completely unnoticed – this is a part of their mutable nature. This also makes it easy for them to ghost the fuck out of your life (yay mutables! this is why I drink, because of mutables). But if a Pisces has had a considerable love relationship with you, they will never be able to forget you. They aren’t like Aquarius who can say “you are fucking dead to me,” when the relationship is over and really fucking mean it. A Pisces heart is like a haunted house with ghosts of ex’s past, which can be extremely annoying for lovers in their present. They will reminisce and will hold their lovers on a pedestal even if they were brutal toward them; all because they struck that deep, romantic cord with Pisces (and were probably a tortured individual Pisces tried to save).
But once Pisces realizes that there are plenty of fish in the sea, they become “Playful Pisces” or “Player Pisces” instead of “crying about my ex’s into an empty carton of Ben and Jerry’s Pisces.” We all know “Player Pisces.” Yeah, that shitbag who will romance the fuck out of multiple women/men, go to a party where all of them are present and make out with someone new. There is literally no room you have ever been in with this Pisces where a woman or a man doesn’t end up storming out balling their eyes out. These are the Pisces who don’t realize that love is not a game, and professing false feelings is called “lying” not, “I was just having fun!”
“Playful Pisces” realizes the true potential of their intuitive powers. I once knew a fully sexually realized Pisces who could command a room like a celebrity had just walked in it. She had men shoving bottles of Pepsi up their ass just to be in her presence (did I mention she was a dominatrix?), and she would write the most amazing erotica I have ever had the honor to read. She had a bit of an obsession with “obsession,” showing me how deep and far (haha) and all prevailing love could be. She was truly a romantic at heart. With her moon in Leo, she had a glorious red mane and eyes that were like pools of water lit on fucking fire. She infused me with a sense of self esteem and enough confidence to leave a very sexually unfulfilling relationship. Essentially, she knighted me into the kingdom of being both emotionally and sexually fulfilled and how important that is for an artist. She taught me that a romantic relationship can also be heavily sexually charged, and that I didn’t need to take shit from anyone about who I was. This Pisces knew how important the “story” was for lovers to surrender enough to ecstatic sexual states, and she constructed that story like a god damn orchestral production.
Speaking of orchestra, both of the Pisces I have been with have been musicians – and both have been singers (good lord, the irony). Let’s call them “Pisces A” and “Pisces B.” Both seemed to intuitively know exactly what I was looking for at the time (hookups as I had just ended serious relationships before each one of them). Both had a dreamy quality to them that I could never quite figure out the source of. One minute I would be conversing normally with them, smoking a blunt with one of them or taking shot after shot with the other, and then I’d be under them furiously making out with their pants unzipped and their hands up my shirt with me thinking, “WHEN THE FUCK DID THIS HAPPEN?”
Which actually just triggered a memory for me. I have actually slept with 3 Pisces, one being the one and only dude I ever slept with. Let’s call him “Pisces C”. He was nice and sweet and considerate, and stopped when he knew it just wasn’t fucking working for me at all (I mean, I had my eyes glued shut and was literally fantasizing about women while it happened – I was probably cringing and he said he was turned off by how turned off I was LOL). We laughed, smoked a joint, and I told him he had to work on his giving head game. When he asked me why I slept with him, I told him I essentially wanted to put the question to rest in my mind once and for all and tell everyone who told me “just give it a try” to shove it, and I thanked him for not being a fucktard about it. When my friends asked me about the situation, I told them (to famously quote the lesbian super model Gia), “I could have done that with a German Shepard.” So, in a funny way, a Pisces taught me that I should follow my heart and actually fucking trust in it and my desires instead of succumbing to peer pressure.
Ironically, I slept with all 3 Pisces after huge breakups in my life, and I was either extremely wasted or high during the process (because, you know, Pisces rules over intoxication). Pisces A was extremely feminine and had a sort of Stevie Nicks vibe to her. She was a barista at this coffee shop I frequented in New York City and was essentially one of those uber spiritual festival going girls who hula hooped with fire and sang in an experimental electronica band. She would make it a point to make eyes and flirt very visibly with me every time I came in, but I never responded due to being in a committed relationship at the time. Once my girlfriend and I broke up though, I engaged one day and asked her out on a date. We ended up drinking a ton of martini’s one night and hooking up – though I barely remember much of it because of how many martini’s we both drank. We continued a flirtatious back and forth for over a year after that, but never really hooked up again. I guess I really enjoyed the idea of her, but I couldn’t stand the fact that I didn’t believe a god damn thing that came out of her mouth. I mean, I wanted to believe, but every element of her persona seemed contrived – like she was attempting to construct this perfect fantasy for me instead of ever truly giving me her raw, true self. So I dropped that shit.
Pisces B was an amazing musician with a deep spirituality that spoke to me on many levels. We would spend hours up on hours working on music, cracking each other up, and delving into philosophy and mysticism. She taught me how to construct music (something I was never taught by my musician father), and helped me get in tune with “past lives.” She built up my self esteem at a time when I desperately needed it, and supported my art like a true friend. We ended up hooking up after a long round of blunts, and although she was not necessarily the type of woman I go for (I am a sucker for the feminine women), she had a sexual energy that I could not deny and was in dire need of at the time. Jesus, that’s a trend isn’t it? Pisces being able to mutable their way around my usual type. Anyway, this Pisces could command an audience (very much like my dominatrix Pisces friend). She had women practically drooling in her presence, and my female friends were constantly asking me how they can find themselves in her bed. Which, you know, got me thinking, “WTF am I, chopped liver?” She had some of the most gorgeous, intelligent and talented women throwing themselves on her, and her music thrived off of this influx of sexual energy (she knows how to channel that shit). Like, she literally fucking had groupies and you best not bring her around your girlfriend (you don’t want to learn that lesson). Although Pisces B and I never found ourselves in a state where we ever would be in a relationship, a beautiful and strong friendship developed between us and we both shared our secrets of seduction and mysticism like two Queens in their own right. To this day I consider Pisces B a strong influence on building up my self esteem – with divine and selfless love (ah that actualized Pisces!).
So yeah, Pisces can be slippery fucking slime-balls that will make you rue the day you believed in romance, or they can also raise you to new levels and heal you like a divine healer sent from the gods themselves. It all depends on how they handle their own darkness and if they have found a sturdy enough anchor in their lives (like Pisces B and her music). But no matter what, they want to know what’s your f-f-fantasyyyyy!
Fuckstrology: Pisces Play was originally published on Heretical Oracles
#Fuckstrology#sex with pisces#what's your fantasy?#astrology#tarot#asteroid astrology#fuckstrology#bruja#brujeria
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