saw a thing recently about how callin ppl “y’all” and “folks” is becoming cringe. buddy you can pry those terms of address from my cold dead hands, they’re the only thing keeping me from calling everyone “honeybee”
at least if i die on this hill i’ll go to y’allhalla
Oh Hi, I’m here again!! Hope you’re all having a wonderful weekend. I tried to mentally prepare myself for sharing today way back on Wed night when I had a marvelous meltdown…and it appears to have worked bc here I am! Hooray!
Also, I wrote this morning…words appear to still be pouring out of this brain into this new fic so *shrugs* let’s keep going…
**I AM POSTING QUICKLY WHILE MY BRAIN APPEARS TO BE COOPERATING, I WILL RESPOND TO ALL OF YOUR AMAZING POSTS LATER TONIGHT!**
So I mentioned I always write with music (I always *everything* all day long with music) so I’m going to share the song I’m writing this scene to…it feels like cheating! Bc I’m kinda telling you what vibes you should be getting from this piece of writing when ideally the writing should speak for itself…but well, you can skip it if you want .
So this is from the same fic I shared on Wed, (sad Baz back in London)…but this scene is…sexier? This is literally from this morning so…obvs, very WIP.
******
BAZ
I can hear his footsteps behind me. “Hey!” he shouts, and it’s a demand.
I turn slowly to him, steeling my face, hands in my pockets.
“Snow.”
I take him in for a moment before he shakes his head at me. “You’re scared.” It’s accusatory. His jaw is locked, eyes bright.
“Scared?” I attempt a look of sneering indifference.
“Scared.” He lets the word fall, heavy from his lips as he takes a step toward me. “Do I frighten you, Baz?”
That goddamned jaw. I want to grab him there. Hold him in place, bite him, taste him (I still know the way he tastes), keep him.
“Do you…frighten me?” I take a slow predatory step toward him.
“It’s ok to admit it, Baz.” He’s not being soft, he’s challenging me.
I take another step. I can meet a challenge.
“I’m scared of nothing.” Can he feel the lie? I step closer still. The air between us is thick, heady.
I watch the muscles in his neck, the bob of his throat as he swallows. The twisting of tendons in his forearms. He’s a taut line…can I make him snap? Explode? Come undone? He’s so beautiful when he comes undone.
“Do you really want to do this right now, Simon? Hmm? You want to keep pushing me to do bad things to you?”
“Bad things?” His eyes are on my mouth as he steps closer.
“Horrible,” I whisper, and he’s close enough to feel my breath on his lips. I’m vibrating with the tension.
tbh the worst thing about being a self aware mentally ill person is that people assume that because you understand your illness you’re automatically able to actually apply your knowledge to your life and cure yourself
sorry to the Americans that want to watch him singing in a car but us Brits will be requiring James Corden take an extended break from late late shenanigans to film a season 4 of Gavin and Stacey because if he thinks he can just cliffhanger us like he did on this fine Christmas Day and then disappear off to wear suits and look pretty then I am going to have to go full Pam Shipman
been thinking about how tim lost two parents in separate, violent rogue attacks before, at the age of seventeen, abruptly staging a takeover of a major corporation from a third parent under highly suspicious circumstances. do you think there are conspiracy theories about this. do you think people think tim bumped his parents off. do you think people think tim killed bruce wayne and had him replaced with a body double
The soul suck is so real and I wish more people were honest about the fact that most of our depression and mental illness isn’t an individual ailment but a collective stare down of a future that seems increasingly pointless… Like actually it is very hard to live without family traditions and a purpose/Gods/something greater/collective vision and to design your life around individual accomplishment. For some reason we aren’t allowed to say this… the only acceptable causation is personal trauma and a “chemical imbalance”.
